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Advances In Enterprise Engineering Vi Second Enterprise Engineering Working Conference Eewc 2012 Delft The Netherlands May 78 2012 Proceedings 1st Edition Antonia Albani
Lecture Notes
in Business Information Processing 110
Series Editors
Wil van der Aalst
Eindhoven Technical University, The Netherlands
John Mylopoulos
University of Trento, Italy
Michael Rosemann
Queensland University of Technology, Brisbane, Qld, Australia
Michael J. Shaw
University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, IL, USA
Clemens Szyperski
Microsoft Research, Redmond, WA, USA
Antonia Albani
David Aveiro
Joseph Barjis (Eds.)
Advances in
EnterpriseEngineeringVI
Second Enterprise Engineering
Working Conference, EEWC 2012
Delft, The Netherlands, May 7-8, 2012
Proceedings
1 3
Volume Editors
Antonia Albani
University of St. Gallen
St. Gallen, Switzerland
E-mail: antonia.albani@unisg.ch
David Aveiro
University of Madeira
Funchal, Portugal
E-mail: daveiro@uma.pt
Joseph Barjis
Delft University of Technology
Delft, The Netherlands
E-mail: j.barjis@tudelft.nl
ISSN 1865-1348 e-ISSN 1865-1356
ISBN 978-3-642-29902-5 e-ISBN 978-3-642-29903-2
DOI 10.1007/978-3-642-29903-2
Springer Heidelberg Dordrecht London New York
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012936119
ACM Computing Classification (1998): J.1, H.3.5, H.4-5
© Springer-Verlag Berlin Heidelberg 2012
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Preface
Enterprise engineering is an emerging discipline that studies enterprises from
an engineering perspective. It means that enterprises are considered to be de-
signed and implemented systems, which consequently can be re-designed and
re-implemented if there is a need for change. Enterprise engineering is rooted in
both the organizational sciences and the information system sciences. The rigor-
ous integration of these traditionally disjoint scientific areas has become possible
after the recognition that communication is a form of action. The operating prin-
ciple of organizations is that actors enter into and comply with commitments,
and in doing so bring about the business services of the enterprise. This impor-
tant insight clarifies the view that enterprises belong to the category of social
systems, i.e., its active elements (actors) are social individuals (human beings).
The unifying role of human beings makes it possible to address problems in a
holistic way, to achieve unity and integration in bringing about any organiza-
tional change.
Also when regarding the implementation of organizations by means of modern
information and communication technology (ICT), enterprise engineering offers
innovative ideas. In a similar way as the ontological model of an organization is
based on atomic elements (namely, communicative acts), there is an ontological
model for ICT applications. Such a model is based on a small set of atomic
elements, such as data elements and action elements. By constructing software
in this way, the combinatorial effects (i.e., the increasing effort it takes in the
course of time to bring about a particular change) in software engineering can
be avoided.
The development of enterprise engineering requires the active involvement
of a variety of research institutes and a tight collaboration between them. This
is achieved by a continuously expanding network of universities and other insti-
tutes, called the CIAO! Network (www.ciaonetwork.org). Since 2005 this network
has organized the annual CIAO! Workshop, and since 2008 its proceedings have
been published as Advances in Enterprise Engineering in the Springer LNBIP
series. From 2011 on, this workshop was replaced by the Enterprise Engineering
Working Conference (EEWC). This book contains the proceedings of the second
EEWC, which was held in Delft, The Netherlands.
May 2012 Antonia Albani
David Aveiro
Joseph Barjis
Enterprise Engineering – The Manifesto
Introduction
This manifesto presents the focal topics and objectives of the emerging
discipline of enterprise engineering, as it is currently theorized and developed
within the CIAO! Network. There is close cooperation between the CIAO! Net-
work (www.ciaonetwork.org) and the Enterprise Engineering Institute (www.ee-
institute.com) for promoting the practical application of enterprise engineering.
The manifesto comprises seven postulates, which collectively constitute the en-
terprise engineering paradigm (EEP).
Motivation
The vast majority of strategic initiatives fail, meaning that enterprises are un-
able to gain success from their strategy. Abundant research indicates that the
key reason for strategic failures is the lack of coherence and consistency among
the various components of an enterprise. At the same time, the need to operate as
a unified and integrated whole is becoming increasingly important. These chal-
lenges are dominantly addressed from a functional or managerial perspective, as
advocated by management and organization science. Such knowledge is neces-
sary and sufficient for managing an enterprise, but it is inadequate for bringing
about changes. To do that, one needs to take a constructional or engineering
perspective. Both organizations and software systems are complex and prone
to entropy. This means that in the course of time, the costs of bringing about
similar changes increase in a way that is known as combinatorial explosion. Re-
garding (automated) information systems, this has been demonstrated; regard-
ing organizations, it is still a conjecture. Entropy can be reduced and managed
effectively through modular design based on atomic elements. The people in an
enterprise are collectively responsible for the operation (including management)
of the enterprise. In addition, they are collectively responsible for the evolution
of the enterprise (adapting to needs for change). These responsibilities can only
be borne if one has appropriate knowledge of the enterprise.
Mission
Addressing the challenges mentioned above requires a paradigm shift. It is the
mission of the discipline of enterprise engineering to develop new, appropriate
theories, models, methods, and other artifacts for the analysis, design, imple-
mentation, and governance of enterprises by combining (relevant parts of) man-
agement and organization science, information systems science, and computer
science. The ambition is to address (all) traditional topics in said disciplines
from the enterprise engineering paradigm. The result of our efforts should be
theoretically rigorous and practically relevant.
VIII Enterprise Engineering – The Manifesto
Postulates
Postulate 1
In order to perform optimally and to implement changes successfully, enterprises
must operate as a unified and integrated whole. Unity and integration can only
be achieved through deliberate enterprise development (comprising design, engi-
neering, and implementation) and governance.
Postulate 2
Enterprises are essentially social systems, of which the elements are human be-
ings in their role of social individuals, bestowed with appropriate authority and
bearing the corresponding responsibility. The operating principle of enterprises
is that these human beings enter into and comply with commitments regarding
the products (services) that they create (deliver). Commitments are the results
of coordination acts, which occur in universal patterns, called transactions.
Note. Human beings may be supported by technical artifacts of all kinds,
notably by ICT systems. Therefore, enterprises are often referred to as socio-
technical systems. However, only human beings are responsible and accountable
for what the supporting technical artifacts do.
Postulate 3
There are two distinct perspectives on enterprises (as on all systems): func-
tion and construction. All other perspectives are a subdivision of one of these.
Accordingly, there are two distinct kinds of models: black-box models and white-
box models. White-box models are objective; they regard the construction of a
system. Black-box models are subjective; they regard a function of a system.
Function is not a system property but a relationship between the system and
some stakeholder(s). Both perspectives are needed for developing enterprises.
Note. For convenience sake, we talk about the business of an enterprise when
taking the function perspective of the customer, and about its organization when
taking the construction perspective.
Postulate 4
In order to manage the complexity of a system (and to reduce and manage its
entropy), one must start the constructional design of the system with its ontolog-
ical model. This is a fully implementation-independent model of the construction
and the operation of the system. Moreover, an ontological model has a modular
structure and its elements are (ontologically) atomic. For enterprises the meta-
model of such models is called enterprise ontology. For information systems the
meta-model is called information system ontology.
Note. At any moment in the lifetime of a system, there is only one ontological
model, capturing its actual construction, though abstracted from its implemen-
tation. The ontological model of a system is comprehensive and concise, and
extremely stable.
Enterprise Engineering – The Manifesto IX
Postulate 5
It is an ethical necessity for bestowing authorities on the people in an enterprise,
and having them bear the corresponding responsibility, that these people are
able to internalize the (relevant parts of the) ontological model of the enterprise,
and to constantly validate the correspondence of the model with the operational
reality.
Note. It is a duty of enterprise engineers to provide the means to the people
in an enterprise to internalize its ontological model.
Postulate 6
To ensure that an enterprise operates in compliance with its strategic concerns,
these concerns must be transformed into generic functional and constructional
normative principles, which guide the (re-)development of the enterprise, in ad-
dition to the applicable specific requirements. A coherent, consistent, and hi-
erarchically ordered set of such principles for a particular class of systems is
called an architecture. The collective architectures of an enterprise are called its
enterprise architecture.
Note. The term “architecture” is often used (also) for a model that is the
outcome of a design process, during which some architecture is applied. We do
not recommend this homonymous use of the word.
Postulate 7
For achieving and maintaining unity and integration in the (re-)development and
operation of an enterprise, organizational measures are needed, collectively called
governance. The organizational competence to take and apply these measures on
a continuous basis is called enterprise governance.
May 2012 Jan L.G. Dietz
Organization
EEWC 2012 was the second Working Conference resulting from a series of suc-
cessful CIAO! Workshops over the years and EEWC 2011. These events aimed
at addressing the challenges that modern and complex enterprises are facing in
a rapidly changing world. The participants in these events share the belief that
dealing with these challenges requires rigorous and scientific solutions, focusing
on the design and engineering of enterprises.
This conviction led to the idea of annually organizing an international work-
ing conference on the topic of enterprise engineering, in order to bring together
all stakeholders interested in making enterprise engineering a reality. This means
that not only scientists are invited, but also practitioners. Next, it also means
that the conference is aimed at active participation, discussion, and exchange
of ideas in order to stimulate future cooperation among the participants. This
makes EEWC a working conference contributing to the further development of
enterprise engineering as a mature discipline.
The organization of EEWC 2012 and the peer review of the contributions
to EEWC 2012 were accomplished by an outstanding international team of ex-
perts in the fields of enterprise engineering. The following is the organizational
structure of EEWC 2012.
General Chair
Jan L.G. Dietz Delft University of Technology,
The Netherlands
Conference Chair
Antonia Albani University of St. Gallen, Switzerland
Program Chair
David Aveiro University of Madeira, Portugal
Organization Chair
Joseph Barjis Delft University of Technology,
The Netherlands
XII Organization
Program Commitee
Bernhard Bauer University of Augsburg, Germany
Christian Huemer Vienna University of Technology, Austria
Dai Senoo Tokyo Institute of Technology, Japan
Eduard Babkin Higher School of Economics, Nizhny Novgorod,
Russia
Emmanuel Hostria Rockwell Automation, USA
Eric Dubois Public Research Centre - Henri Tudor,
Luxembourg
Erik Proper Public Research Centre - Henri Tudor,
Luxembourg
Florian Matthes Technical University Munich, Germany
Gil Regev École Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne
(EPFL), Itecor, Switzerland
Graham McLeod University of Cape Town, South Africa
Hans Mulder University of Antwerp, Belgium
Jan Hoogervorst Sogeti Netherlands, The Netherlands
Jan Verelst University of Antwerp, Belgium
Joaquim Filipe School of Technology of Setúbal, Portugal
José Tribolet INESC and Technical University of Lisbon,
Portugal
Junichi Iijima Tokyo Institute of Technology, Japan
Marielba Zacarias University of Algarve, Portugal
Martin Op ’t Land Capgemini, The Netherlands
Natalia Aseeva Higher School of Economics, Nizhny Novgorod,
Russia
Olga Khvostova Higher School of Economics, Nizhny Novgorod,
Russia
Paul Johanesson Stockholm University, Sweden
Peter Loos University of Saarland, Germany
Pnina Soffer MIS department, Haifa University, Israel
Robert Lagerström KTH - Royal Institute of Technology, Sweden
Robert Winter University of St. Gallen, Switzerland
Rony Flatscher Vienna University of Economics and Business
Administration, Austria
Sanetake Nagayoshi Tokyo Institute of Technology, Japan
Stijn Hoppenbrouwers Radboud University Nijmegen,
The Netherlands
Table of Contents
Foundations of Enterprise Engineering
Strengthening the Foundations Underlying the Enterprise Engineering
Manifesto . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Martin Op ’t Land and João Pombinho
The Principles of Enterprise Engineering . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
Jan L.G. Dietz and Jan A.P. Hoogervorst
Towards Applying Normalized Systems Theory Implications to
Enterprise Process Reference Models . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
Peter De Bruyn, Dieter Van Nuffel, Jan Verelst, and
Herwig Mannaert
Enterprise Control, Flexibility and Governance
Enterprise Dynamic Systems Control Enforcement of Run-Time
Business Transactions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
Sérgio Guerreiro, André Vasconcelos, and José Tribolet
A Study of the Patterns for Reducing Exceptions and Improving
Business Process Flexibility . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
Sanetake Nagayoshi, Yang Liu, and Junichi Iijima
Benefits of Enterprise Ontology in Governing Complex Enterprise
Transformations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
Martin Op ’t Land and Jan L.G. Dietz
Specifying Value
Towards Objective Business Modeling in Enterprise Engineering –
Defining Function, Value and Purpose . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93
João Pombinho, David Aveiro, and José Tribolet
Monitoring Value Webs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108
Patrı́cio de Alencar Silva and Hans Weigand
Author Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125
A. Albani, D. Aveiro, and J. Barjis (Eds.): EEWC 2012, LNBIP 110, pp. 1–14, 2012.
© Springer-Verlag Berlin Heidelberg 2012
Strengthening the Foundations Underlying
the Enterprise Engineering Manifesto
Martin Op ’t Land1,2
and João Pombinho3,4
1
Capgemini Netherlands, P.O. Box 2575, 3500 GN Utrecht, The Netherlands
2
Delft University of Technology, Delft, The Netherlands
3
Instituto Superior Técnico, Technical University of Lisbon, Lisbon, Portugal
4
CODE - Center for Organizational Design & Engineering, INESC INOV,
Rua Alves Redol 9, Lisbon, Portugal
martin.optland@capgemini.com, jpombinho@acm.org
Abstract. The discipline of Enterprise Engineering aims for enterprises to oper-
ate as a unified and integrated whole. This discipline therefore adopts the mis-
sion to develop theories, models, methods and other artifacts for the analysis,
design, implementation and governance of enterprises in a theoretically rigor-
ous and practically relevant manner. The Enterprise Engineering Manifesto
postulates the dualities of concepts function/construction perspective, black-
box/white-box models and subjective/objective as being opposed to each other
in one-on-one relationships.
Illustrated by the Pizzeria case, it becomes clear (a) that functions can be de-
fined objectively, and (b) that a valuation perspective should be added that truly
focuses on the relationship between a system and its stakeholders. These
insights can support building stronger bridges between management and organ-
ization sciences – traditionally stronger in functional approaches – and
information systems science, and computer science – traditionally stronger in
constructional approaches.
Keywords: Enterprise Engineering, Enterprise Engineering Manifesto, Func-
tion perspective, Construction perspective, Black-box models, White-box
models.
1 Introduction
According to the Enterprise1
Engineering Manifesto (EEM)[1], Enterprise Engineer-
ing is an emerging discipline that deals with developing theories, models, methods
and other artifacts for the analysis, design, implementation and governance of enter-
prises in a theoretically rigorous and practically relevant manner. Since this goal
encompasses different domains of knowledge, enterprise engineering is itself a multi-
disciplinary discipline that combines concepts from management and organization
science, information systems science, and computer science. One of the challenges
1
We use the term “enterprise” for any goal-oriented cooperative of people.
2 M. Op ’t Land and J. Pombinho
that arise from this approach is being able to coherently and consistently combine the
various components of an enterprise, while coping with the adaption and change con-
cerns that inherently will arise over time. Indeed, the complexity of businesses and the
high change pace of their environments, coupled with increasing ICT support, turn the
gap between strategy and its implementation into a major challenge. Studies indicate
as much as 90 percent of organizations fail to succeed in applying their strategies [2].
The EEM [1] states that management and organization sciences address these is-
sues predominantly from a functional perspective. Conversely, information systems
science and computer science mainly make use of the constructional or engineering
perspective. The EEM then focuses on the contributions of constructional thinking to
the Enterprise Engineering (EE) discipline. Particularly, its Postulate 3 reads:
“There are two distinct perspectives on enterprises (as on all systems): function and
construction. All other perspectives are a subdivision of one of these. Accordingly,
there are two distinct kinds of models: black-box models and white-box models.
White-box models are objective; they regard the construction of a system. Black-
box models are subjective; they regard a function of a system. Function is not a
system property but a relationship between the system and some stakeholder(s).
Both perspectives are needed for developing enterprises.”
Three dualities of concepts are mentioned, and set in one-to-one relationships:
• Function and Construction perspectives;
• Black-box and White-box models;
• Subjectivity and Objectivity.
We agree with EEM that these concepts have a very important role as a referential for
the entire EE discipline. Therefore it would be beneficial to clarify their definitions
and relations, to not only distinguish these notions, but also be able to connect them.
Suppose, for instance, that it would be possible to define functions (more) objectively,
then it would be possible to simulate, test and maybe even prove coherence, sufficien-
cy, etc. of a certain construction and implementation to bring about certain functions.
This would contribute to a core value of Enterprise Engineering, namely unified and
holistic design, truly combining management and engineering disciplines.
The remainder of this paper is structured as follows. Section 2 begins with a brief
Problem Statement, and the introduction of the running Pizzeria example for our con-
ceptual exploration. Then Section 3 presents the three mentioned dualities of con-
cepts, instantiated with the Pizzeria example. Next, the three dualities are discussed
and compared in Section 4. The paper closes with conclusions and recommendations
regarding Enterprise Engineering in general, and regarding the EEM specifically.
2 Problem Statement
The main question we want to answer is:
“Looking at the three dualities of concepts – function versus construction perspec-
tive, black-box versus white box models, and subjectivity versus objectivity – are
these three dualities of concepts really one-on-one?”
Strengthening the Foundations Underlying the Enterprise Engineering Manifesto 3
As a first illustration, look at the work of a sluice operator. Without knowing his
work instructions (white-box), we can observe his behavior (black-box) and compare
that with expected behavior in parameters well known in product and reliability engi-
neering, such as service times, delivery times, Mean Time Between Failure and error
rates. Such Quality of Service (QoS) parameters can be expressed and also measured
quite objectively – which is a regular practice in Service Level Management, and also
the basis for Service Level Agreements (SLA’s). So there seems not necessarily to be
a problem to define functions objectively.
Comparable examples can be found in the Six Sigma, which uses black-box obser-
vations to systematically search for statistical correlations – which could point to
causality in (until now may be unknown) white boxes. Also here functional parame-
ters are defined and measured objectively.
Yet another example is given by Dietz [3], looking at the heart as a biological sys-
tem. The heart has the function of pumping blood, i.e. transporting blood from loca-
tion A to location B with a certain velocity range and a certain capacity for adapting
to fluctuations in viscosity. This function can be expressed objectively and measura-
bly. Dietz then continues to clearly distinguish between function and purpose, where
“purpose is a relationship of a system with its stakeholder”. May be that is more a
place where subjectivity could be expected, since the interests of me in my heart
could well differ from those of the heart surgeon, or those of the poor colleague pa-
tient waiting for a heart transplant.
We want to approach this –rather conceptual– question with the strategy “valida-
tion by instantiation”. To instantiate the three dualities of concepts in the next sec-
tions, we will use the following adapted version of the classic Pizzeria example from
[4], familiar to the EE community.
Pizzeria Case. The Pizzeria is a business organization that provides pizza to its cus-
tomers (1,000 pizzas of at least 95ºC a week with a Mean Time Between Failure of
one month). Besides the customers, there are many stakeholders: the investors, the
city who grants licenses in return for license fee and the employees working in the
pizzeria. It is noteworthy that the customers belong to two distinct segments: regular
end-customers and cafés located in luxurious terraces nearby, which complement the
offer to their customers with excellent fresh pizza.
In an earlier version of the Pizzeria organization, customers could just walk in and
make their wishes known at the counter or could order by telephone. In both cases
they had to take away the pizzas themselves. Later, an important new service was
introduced: one could have the pizzas delivered to an address. Both means of pizza
delivery to the customer co-exist today.
Customers announce themselves at the counter of the pizzeria or make a telephone
call. After making her selection from a menu, the customer is informed about the
price and the expected time that the order will be ready.
The order is then passed to the kitchen, where the baker prepares the pizzas. Once
ready, the pizzas that make up an order are boxed. Depending on the delivery selec-
tion, the boxes are then handed over to the customer against payment or delivered a
customer-specified address by a transporter, whom also collects the money on behalf
of the pizzeria.
4 M. Op ’t Land and J. Pombinho
Fig. 1. Detailed Actor Transaction Diagram (according to DEMO) from the Pizzeria [3]
3 Analysis of the Dualities of Concepts
First we will introduce the Enterprise Engineering concepts of system, model and
Generic System Development Process (GSDP). Then we will present each duality and
instantiate it with the Pizzeria example.
3.1 Base Theory: System, Model and GSDP
System and Model. Dietz [3] defines something as a system if and only if it has:
composition – a set of elements of some category (grey nodes in Fig. 2); environment
– a set of elements of the same category, disjoint from the composition (white nodes);
production – things produced by elements in the composition and delivered to the
environment; structure – a set of influence bonds among the elements in the composi-
tion, and between them and the elements in the environment (connections between
white and grey nodes). Together, these properties are called the construction of a
system.
Fig. 2. The construction of a System [3]
Apostel [5] defines the concept of model of a system is as a role as follows:
“Any subject using a system A that is neither directly nor indirectly interacting
with a system B, to obtain information about the system B, is using A as a model
for B.”
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conversation with the gentleman inside, whose drowsiness seemed
to have entirely forsaken him. “Old Swipes,” as he was irreverently
called (a nickname of which, as of most military sobriquets, the
origin had long been forgotten), was the senior captain of the
regiment, one of those gallant fellows who fight their way up
without purchase, serving in every climate under heaven, and
invariably becoming grey of head long ere they lose the greenness
and freshness of heart which in the Service alone outlive the cares
and disappointments that wait on middle age.
Now, Charlie had been sent to “Old Swipes” with dispatches from
head-quarters. One of the general’s aides-de-camp was wounded,
another sick, an extra already ordered on a particular service; and
Charlie, with the dash and gallantry which had distinguished him
from boyhood, volunteered to carry the important missives nearly a
hundred miles through a country not a yard of which he knew, and
threading whole hordes of the enemy with no arms but his sabre
and pistols, no guide but a little unintelligible Hottentot. From the
Kat River frontier to the defenceless portals of Fort Beaufort, the
whole district was covered with swarms of predatory savages; and
but that Fortune proverbially favours the brave, our young lancer
might have found himself in a very unpleasant predicament. Fifty
miles finished the lad’s charger, and he had accomplished the
remainder of his journey walking and riding turn-about with his
guide on the hardy little animal of the latter. No wonder our
dismounted dragoon was weary—no wonder the rations of tough
beef and muddy water which they gave him when he arrived elicited
the compliment we have already mentioned to the good cheer of
“The Fighting Light-Bobs,” as the regiment to which “Old Swipes”
and his detachment belonged was affectionately nicknamed in the
division. The great thing, however, was accomplished—wet, weary,
and exhausted, Charlie and his guide arrived at their destination by
daybreak of the second day. The young lancer delivered his
dispatches to the officer in command, was received like a brother
into a subaltern’s tent, already containing two inhabitants, and slept
soundly through the day, till awakened at sunset by a strong
appetite for supper, and the absolute necessity for slackening the
tent-ropes recorded above.
“Kettering, you must join our council of war,” said the cheery voice of
the old captain from within; “there’s no man better entitled than
yourself to know the contents of my dispatches. Come in, my boy; I
can give you a pipe, if nothing else.”
Charlie lifted the wet sailcloth and crept in—the conclave did not
look so very uncomfortable after all. Certainly there was but little
room, but no men pack so close as soldiers. The old captain was
sitting cross-legged on a folded blanket in the centre, clad in a
russet-coloured coat that had once been scarlet, with gold lace
tarnished down to the splendour of rusty copper. A pair of
regimental trousers, plentifully patched and strapped with leather,
adorned his lower man, and on his head he wore a once-burnished
shako, much gashed and damaged by a Kaffir’s assagai. He puffed
forth volumes of smoke from a short black pipe, and appeared in the
most exuberant spirits, notwithstanding the deficiencies of his
exterior; the real proprietor of the tent, a swarthy, handsome fellow,
with a lightning eye and huge black beard and whiskers, was leaning
against the centre support of his domicile, in a blue frock-coat and
buckskin trousers, looking very handsome and very like a gentleman
(indeed, he is a peer’s younger son), though no “old clothes man”
would have given him eighteenpence for the whole of his costume.
He had hospitably vacated his seat on a battered portmanteau,
“warranted solid leather,” with the maker’s name, in the Strand—it
seemed so odd to see it there—and was likewise smoking furiously,
as he listened to the orders of his commander. A small tin basin, a
canister of tobacco, nearly finished, a silver hunting-flask—alas!
quite empty—and a heap of cloaks, with an old blanket in the corner,
completed the furniture of this warlike palace. It was very like
Charlie’s own tent at head-quarters, save that his cavalry
accoutrements gave an air of finish to that dwelling, of which he was
justly proud. So he felt quite at home as he took his seat on the
portmanteau and filled his pipe. “Just the orders I wanted,” said the
old captain, between his whiffs; “we’ve been here long enough, and
to-morrow we are to advance at daybreak. I am directed to move
upon that ‘Kloof’ we have reconnoitred every day since we came,
and after forming a junction with the Rifles, we are to get
possession of the heights.”
“The river will be out after this rain,” interrupted the handsome
lieutenant; “but that’s no odds; our fellows can all swim—’gad, they
want washing!”
“Steady, my lad,” said the veteran, “we’ll have none of that; I’ve got
a Fingo at the quarter-guard here that’ll take us over dry-shod. I’ve
explained to him what I mean, and if he don’t understand it now he
will to-morrow morning. A ‘Light-Bob’ on each side, with his arms
sloped, directly the water comes in at the rent in these old boots,”
holding up at the same time a much-damaged pair of Wellingtons,
“down goes the Fingo, poor devil, and out go my skirmishers, till we
reach the cattle-ford at Vandryburgh.”
“I don’t think the beggar will throw us over,” replied the subaltern. “I
suppose I’d better get them under arms before daybreak; the nights
are infernally dark, though, in this beastly country, but my fellows all
turn out smartest now when they’ve no light.”
“Before daybreak, certainly,” replied “Old Swipes”; “no whist here,
Kettering, to keep us up very late. Well,” he added, resuming his
directions to his subaltern, “we’ll have the detachment under arms
by four. Take Sergeant Macintosh and the best of the ‘flankers’ to
form an advanced guard. Bid him make every yard of ground good,
particularly where there’s bush; but on no account to fire unless he’s
attacked. We’ll advance in column of sections—mind that—they’re
handier that way for the ground; and Harry—where’s Harry?” “Here,
sir!” said a voice, and a pale, sickly-looking boy, apparently about
seventeen years of age, emerged from under the cloaks and
blankets in the corner, where he had been lying half asleep, and
thoroughly exhausted with the hardships of a life which it requires
the constitution of manhood to undergo. Poor Harry! with what
sickening eagerness his mother, the clergyman’s widow, grasps at
the daily paper, when the African mail is due. How she shudders to
see the great black capitals, with “Important News from the Cape!”
What a hero his sisters think Harry! and how mamma alone turns
pale at the very name of war, and prays for him night and morning
on her knees till the pale face and wasted form of her darling stand
betwixt her and her Maker. And Harry, too, thinks sometimes of his
mother; but oh! how different is the child’s divided affection from the
all-engrossing tenderness of the mother’s love! The boy is fond of
“soldiering,” and his heart swells as “Old Swipes” gives him his
orders in a paternal tone of kindness. “Harry, I shall entrust you with
the rear-guard, and you must keep up your communications with the
sergeant’s guard I shall leave here. He will probably be relieved by
the Rifles, and you can then join us in the front. If they don’t show
before twelve o’clock, fall back here; pack up the baggage, right-
about-face, and join ‘the levies,’ they’re exactly five miles in our rear;
if you’re in difficulties, ask Sergeant File what is best to be done,
only don’t club ’em, my boy, as you did at Limerick.”
“Well, sir,” said the handsome lieutenant, “we’ve all got our orders
now, except Kettering; what are we to do with him?”
“Give him some supper first,” replied the jolly commandant; “but
how to get him back I don’t know; we’ve had a fine stud of oxen for
the last ten days, but as for a horse, I have not seen one since I left
Cape Town.”
“We’re doing nothing at head-quarters, sir,” exclaimed Charlie, with
flashing eyes; “will you allow me to join the attack to-morrow, with
your people?”
The three officers looked at him approvingly, and the ensign
muttered, “By gad, he’s a trump, and no mistake!” but “Old Swipes”
shook his grey head with a half-melancholy smile as he scanned the
boy’s handsome face and shapely figure, set off by his blue lancer
uniform, muddy and travel-stained as it was. “I’ve seen many a fine
fellow go down,” thought the veteran, “and I like it less and less—
this lad’s too good for the Kaffirs; d—n me, I shall never get used to
it;” however, he did not quite know how to refuse so soldier-like a
request, so he only coughed, and said, “Well—I don’t approve of
volunteering—we old soldiers go where we’re ordered, but we never
volunteer. Still, I suppose you won’t stay here, with fighting in the
front. ’Gad, you shall go—you’re a real good one, and I like you for
it.” So the fine old fellow seized Charlie’s hand and wrung it hard,
with the tears in his eyes.
And now our three friends prepared to make themselves
comfortable. The old captain’s tent was the largest, but it was not
water-tight, and consequently stood in a swamp. His supper,
therefore, was added to the joint stock, and the four gentlemen
who, at the best club in London, would have turned up their noses
at turtle because it was thick, or champagne because it was sweet,
sat down quite contentedly to half-raw lumps of stringy beef and a
tin mug only half filled with the muddiest of water, glad to get even
that.
How they laughed and chatted and joked about their fare! To have
heard them talk one would have supposed that they were at dinner
within a day’s march of Pall Mall, London—the opera, the turf, the
ring, each and all had their turn; and when the sergeant on duty
came to report the “lights out,” said lights consisting of two lanterns
for the whole detachment, Charlie had just proposed “fox-hunting”
as a toast with which to finish the last sip of brandy, and treated his
entertainers to a “view-holloa” in a whisper, that he might not alarm
the camp, which, save for the lowing of certain oxen in the rear, was
ere long hushed in the most profound repose.
Now, these oxen were a constant source of confusion and
annoyance to the “old captain” and his myrmidons, whose orderly,
soldier-like habits were continually broken through by their perverse
charge. Of all the contradictory, self-willed, hair-brained brutes on
the face of the earth, commend us to an ox in Kaffirland. He is
troublesome enough when first driven off by his black despoilers,
but when recaptured by British troops he is worse than ever, as
though he brought back with him, from his sojourn in the bush,
some of the devilry of his temporary owners, and was determined to
resent upon his preservers all the injuries he had undergone during
his unwilling peregrinations. Fortunately, those now remaining with
the detachment were but a small number, destined to become most
execrable beef, large herds retaken from the savages having already
been sent to the rear; but even this handful were perpetually
running riot, breaking out of their “kraal” on the most causeless and
imaginary alarms when in the camp, and on the march making a
point of “knocking up” invariably at the most critical moment.
Imagine the difficulties of a commander when, in addition to ground
of which he knows comparatively nothing, of an enemy
outnumbering him hundreds to one, lurking besides in an
impenetrable bush, where he can neither be reached nor seen—of
an extended line of operation in a country where the roads are
either impassable or there are none at all—and, above all, of a trying
climate, with a sad deficiency of water—he has to weaken his
already small force by furnishing a cattle-guard, and to prepare
himself for the contingency of some thousands of frantic animals
breaking loose (which they assuredly will should his position be
forced), and the inevitable confusion which must be the result of
such an untoward liberation. The Kaffirs have a knack of driving
these refractory brutes in a manner which seems unattainable to a
white man. It is an interesting sight to watch a couple of tall, dark
savages, almost naked, and with long staves in their hands,
manœuvring several hundred head of cattle with apparently but little
trouble. Even the Hottentots seem to have a certain mysterious
influence over the horned troop; but for an English soldier, although
goaded by his bayonet, they appear to entertain the most profound
contempt.
Charlie, however, cared little for ox or Kaffir; the lowing of the one
no more disturbed him than the proximity of the other. Was he not
at last in front of the enemy? Should he not to-morrow begin his
career of glory? The boy felt his very life-blood thrill in his veins as
the fighting propensity—the spirit of Cain, never quite dormant
within us—rose to his heart. There he lay in a corner of the dark
tent, dressed and ready for the morrow, with his sword and pistols
at his head, covered with a blanket and a large cloak, his
whereabout only discernible by the red glow from his last pipe
before going to sleep; the handsome lieutenant was already
wrapped in slumber and an enormous rough great-coat (not strictly
regulation); the ensign was far away in dreamland; and Charlie had
watched the light die out from their respective pipes with drowsy
eyes, while the regular step of the sentry outside smote less and less
distinctly on his ear. He had gone through two very severe days, and
had not been in a bed for weeks. Gradually his limbs relaxed and
tingled with delightful languor of rest after real fatigue. Once or
twice he woke up with a start as Fancy played her usual tricks with
the weary, then his head declined, his jaw dropped, the pipe fell to
the ground, and Charlie was fast asleep.
Far, far away on a mountain in Inverness the wild stag is belling to
the distant corries, and snuffing the keen north air as he stamps
ever and anon with lightning hoof that cuts the heather tendrils
asunder and flings them on the breeze. Is he not the great master-
hart of the parcel? and shall he not be circumvented and stretched
on the moor ere the fading twilight darkens into night? Verily, he
must be stalked warily, cautiously, for the wind has shifted and the
lake is already ruffling into pointed, white-crested waves, rising as in
anger, while their spray, hurried before the tempest, drifts in long-
continuous wreaths athwart the surface. Fitful gusts, the pent-up
sobs of rising fury, that must burst or be released, chase the filmy
scud across that pale moon, which is but veiled and not obscured;
while among the ferns and alders that skirt the water’s edge the
wind moans and shrieks like an imprisoned demon wailing for his
freedom. Mists are rising around the hazy forms of the deer; cold,
chilling vapours through which the mighty stag looms like some
gigantic phantom, and still he swells in defiance, and bells abroad
his trumpet-note of war. Charlie’s finger is on the trigger; Uncle
Baldwin, disguised as a Highlander, whispers in his ear the thrilling
caution, “Take time!” The wind howls hideously, and phantom
shapes, floating in the moonlight, mock and gibber and toss their
long, lean arms, and wave their silver hair. No, the rifle is not
cocked; that stubborn lock defies the force of human fingers—the
mist is thickening and the stag moves. Charlie implores Uncle
Baldwin to assist him, and drops upon his knees to cover the retiring
quarry with his useless weapon. The phantoms gather round; their
mist-wreaths turn to muslin dresses, and their silver hair to glossy
locks of mortal hues. The roaring tempest softens to an old familiar
strain. Mary Delaval is before him. Her pale, sweet face is bent upon
the kneeling boy with looks of unutterable love, and her white hand
passes over his brow with an almost imperceptible caress. Her face
sinks gradually to his—her breath is on his temples—his lips cling to
hers—and he starts with horror at the kiss of love, striking cold and
clammy from a grinning skull! Horror! the rifleman, whose skeleton
he shuddered to find beneath his horse’s feet not eight-and-forty
hours ago! What does he here in the drawing-room at home? Home
—yes, he is at home, at last. It must have been fancy—the
recollections of his African campaign! They are all gone to bed. He
hears the General’s well-known tramp dying away along the
passage; and he takes his candle to cross the spacious hall, dark and
gloomy in that flickering light. Ha! seated on the stairs as on a
throne frowns a presence that he dare not pass. A tall, dark figure,
in the shape of a man, yet with angel beauty—no angel form of
good—glorious in the grandeur of despair—magnificent in the pomp
and glare of hell—those lineaments awful in their very beauty—those
deep, unfathomable eyes, with their eternity of suffering, defiance,
remorse, all but repentance or submission! Could mortal look and
not quail? Could man front and not be blasted at the sight? On his
lofty forehead sits a diadem, and on the centre of his brow, burned
in and scorched, as it were, to the very bone, behold the seal of the
Destroyer—the single imprint of a finger.
The boy stands paralysed with affright. The Principle of Evil waves
him on and on, even to the very hem of his garment; but a prayer
rises to the sleeper’s lips; with a convulsive effort he speaks it forth
aloud, and the spell is broken. The mortal is engaged with a mortal
enemy. Those waving robes turn to a leopard-skin kaross, the
glorious figure to an athletic savage, and the immortal beauty to the
grinning, chattering lineaments of a hideous Kaffir. Charlie bounds at
him like a tiger—they fight—they close—and he is locked in the
desperate embrace of life or death with his ghastly foe. Charlie is
undermost! His enemy’s eyes are starting from their sockets—his
white teeth glare with cannibal-like ferocity—and his hand is on the
boy’s throat with a grip of iron. One fearful wrench to get free—one
last superhuman effort of despair, and.... Charlie wakes in the
struggle!—wakes to find it all a dream; and the cold air, the chilling
harbinger of dawn, stealing into the tent to refresh and invigorate
the half-suffocated sleepers. He felt little inclination to resume his
slumbers; his position had been a sufficiently uncomfortable one—
his head having slipped from the pistol-holsters on which it had
rested, and the clasp of his cloak-fastening at the throat having well-
nigh strangled him in his sleep. The handsome lieutenant’s matter-
of-fact yawn on waking would have dispelled more horrid dreams
than Charlie’s, and the real business of the coming day soon chased
from his mind all recollections of his imaginary struggle. Breakfast
was like the supper of the preceding night—half-raw beef, eaten
cold, and a whiff from a short pipe. Ere Charlie had finished his
ration, dark though it was, the men had fallen in; the advanced
guard had started; Ensign Harry had received his final instructions,
and “Old Swipes” gave the word of command in a low, guarded tone
—“Slope arms! By your left—Quick march!”
Day dawned on a spirit-stirring scene. With the swinging, easy step
of those accustomed to long and toilsome marches the detachment
moved rapidly forward, now lessening its front as it arrived at some
narrow defile, now “marking time” to allow of its rear coming up,
without effort, into the proper place. Bronzed, bold faces theirs, with
the bluff, good-humoured air of the English soldier, who takes
warfare as it comes, with an oath and a jest. Reckless of strategy as
of hardship, he neither knows nor cares what his enemy may be
about, nor what dispositions may be made by his own officers. If his
flank be turned he fights on with equal unconcern, “it is no business
of his”; if his ammunition be exhausted he betakes himself to the
bayonet, and swears “the beggars may take their change out of
that!”
The advanced guard, led by the handsome subaltern, was several
hundred paces in front. The Hottentots brought up the rear, and the
“Fighting Light-Bobs,” commanded by their grey-headed captain,
formed the column. With them marched Charlie, conspicuous in his
blue lancer uniform, now respectfully addressing his superior officer,
now jesting good-humouredly with his temporary comrades. The sun
rose on a jovial, light-hearted company; when next his beams shall
gild the same arid plains, the same twining mimosas, the same
glorious landscape, shut in by the jagged peaks of the Anatola
mountains, they will glance back from many a firelock lying
ownerless on the sand; they will deepen the clammy hue of death
on many a bold forehead; they will fail to warm many a gallant
heart, cold and motionless for ever. But the men go on all the same,
laughing and jesting merrily, as they “march at ease,” and beguile
the way with mirth and song.
“We’ll get a sup o’ brandy to-night, anyhow, won’t us, Bill?” says a
weather-beaten “Light-Bob” to his front-rank man, a thirsty old
soldier as was ever “confined to barracks.”
“Ay,” replies Bill, “them black beggars has got plenty of lush—more’s
the pity; and they doesn’t give none to their wives—more’s their
sense. Ax your pardon, sir,” he adds, turning to Charlie, “but we shall
advance right upon their centre, now, anyways, shan’t us?”
Ere Charlie could reply he was interrupted by Bill’s comrade, who
seemed to have rather a penchant for Kaffir ladies. “Likely young
women they be, too, Bill, those niggers’ wives; why, every Kaffir has
a dozen at least, and we’ve only three to a company; wouldn’t I like
to be a Kaffir?”
“Black!” replied Bill, in a tone of intense disgust.
“What’s the odds?” urged the matrimonial champion, “a black wife’s
a sight better than none at all;” and straightway he began to hum a
military ditty, of which fate only permitted him to complete the first
two stanzas:—
“They’re sounding the charge for a brush, my boys!
And we’ll carry their camp with a rush, my boys!
When we’ve driven them out, I make no doubt
We’ll find they’ve got plenty of lush, my boys!
For the beggars delight
To sit soaking all night,
Black although they be.
And when we get liquor so cheap, my boys!
We’ll do nothing but guzzle and sleep, my boys!
And sit on the grass with a Kaffir lass,
Though smutty the wench as a sweep, my boys!
For the Light Brigade
Are the lads for a maid,
Black although she may be.”
“Come, stow that!” interrupted Bill, as the ping of a ball whistled
over their heads, followed by the sharp report of a musket; “here’s
music for your singing, and dancing too, faith,” he added, as the rear
files of the advanced guard came running in; and “Old Swipes”
exclaimed, “By Jove! they’re engaged. Attention! steady, men!—
close up—close up”—and, throwing out a handful of skirmishers to
clear the bush immediately in his front and support his advanced
guard, he moved the column forward at “the double,” gained some
rising ground, behind which he halted them, and himself ran on to
reconnoitre. A sharp fire had by this time commenced on the right,
and Charlie’s heart beat painfully whilst he remained inactive,
covered by a position from which he could see nothing. It was not,
however, for long. The “Light-Bobs” were speedily ordered to
advance, and as they gained the crest of the hill a magnificent view
of the conflict opened at once upon their eyes.
The Rifles had been beforehand with them, and were already
engaged; their dark forms, hurrying to and fro as they ran from
covert to covert, were only to be distinguished from the savages by
the rapidity with which their thin white lines of smoke emerged from
bush and brake, and the regularity with which they forced position
after position, compared with the tumultuous gestures and desultory
movements of the enemy. Already the Kaffirs were forced across the
ford of which we have spoken, and, though they mustered in great
numbers on the opposite bank, swarming like bees along the rising
ground, they appeared to waver in their manœuvres, and to be
inclined to retire. A mounted officer gallops up, and says a few
words to the grey-headed captain. The “Light-Bobs” are formed into
column of sections, and plunge gallantly into the ford. Charlie’s right-
hand man falls pierced by an assagai, and as his head declines
beneath the bubbling water, and his blood mingles with the stream,
our volunteer feels “the devil” rising rapidly to his heart. Charlie’s
teeth are set tight, though he is scarce aware of his own sensations,
and the boy is dangerous, with his pale face and flashing eyes.
The “Light-Bobs” deploy into line on the opposite bank, covered by
an effective fire from the Rifles, and advance as if they were on
parade. “Old Swipes” feels his heart leap for joy. On they march like
one man, and the dark masses of the enemy fly before them. “Well
done, my lads!” says the old captain, as, from their flank, he marks
the regularity of their movement. They are his very children now,
and he is not thinking of the little blue-eyed girl far away at home. A
belt of mimosas is in their front, and it must be carried with the
bayonet! The “Light-Bobs” charge with a wild hurrah; and a
withering volley, very creditable to the savages, well-nigh staggers
them as they approach. “Old Swipes” runs forward, waving them on,
his shako off, and his grey locks streaming in the breeze—down he
goes! with a musket-ball crashing through his forehead. Charlie
could yell with rage, and a fierce longing for blood. There is a calm,
matronly woman tending flowers, some thousand miles off, in a
small garden in the north of England, and a little girl sitting wistfully
at her lessons by her mother’s side. They are a widow and an
orphan—but the handsome lieutenant will get his promotion without
purchase; death-vacancies invariably go in the regiment, and even
now he takes the command.
“Kettering,” says he, cool and composed, as if he were but giving
orders at a common field-day, “take a sub-division and clear that
ravine; when you are once across you can turn his flank. Forward,
my lads! and if they’ve any nonsense give ’em the bayonet!”
Charlie now finds himself actually in command—ay, and in
something more than a skirmish—something that begins to look
uncommonly like a general action. Waving the men on with his
sword he dashes into the ravine, and in another instant is hand-to-
hand with the enemy. What a moment of noise, smoke, and
confusion it is! Crashing blows, fearful oaths, the Kaffir war-cry, and
the soldiers’ death-groan mingle in the very discord of hell. A
wounded Kaffir seizes Charlie by the legs, and a “Light-Bob” runs the
savage through the body, the ghastly weapon flashing out between
the Kaffir’s ribs.
“You’ve got it now, you black beggar!” says the soldier, as he coolly
wipes his dripping bayonet on a tuft of burnt-up grass. While yet he
speaks he is writhing in his death-pang, his jaws transfixed by a
quivering assagai. A Kaffir chief, of athletic frame and sinewy
proportions, distinguished by the grotesque character of his arms
and his tiger-skin kaross, springs at the young lancer like a wild-cat.
The boy’s sword gleams through that dusky body even in mid-air.
“Well done, blue ’un!” shout the men, and again there is a wild
hurrah! The young one never felt like this before.
Hand-to-hand the savages have been beaten from their defences,
and they are in full retreat. One little band has forced the ravine,
and gained the opposite bank. With a thrilling cheer they scale its
rugged surface, Charlie waving his sword and leading them gallantly
on. The old privates swear he is a good ’un. “Forward, lads! Hurrah!
for blue ’un!”
The boy has all but reached the brink; his hand is stretched to grasp
a bush that overhangs the steep, but his step totters, his limbs
collapse—down, down he goes, rolling over and over amongst the
brushwood, and the blue lancer uniform lies a tumbled heap at the
bottom of the ravine, whilst the cheer of the pursuing “Light-Bobs”
dies fainter and fainter on the sultry air as the chase rolls farther and
farther into the desert fastnesses of Kaffirland.
CHAPTER XII
CAMPAIGNING AT HOME
THE SOLDIER IN PEACE—THE LION AND THE LAMB—“THE
GIRLS WE LEAVE BEHIND US”—A PLAIN QUESTION—THE
STRONG MAN’S STRUGGLE—FATHERLY KINDNESS—THE
“PEACE AND PLENTY”—A LADY-KILLER’S PROJECTS—WAKING
THOUGHTS
In a neat, well-appointed barouche, with clever, high-stepping brown
horses and everything complete, a party of three well-dressed
persons are gliding easily out of town, sniffing by anticipation the
breezes of the country, and greeting every morsel of verdure with a
rapture only known to those who have been for several weeks in
London. Past the barracks at Knightsbridge, where the windows are
occupied by a race of giants in moustaches and shirt-sleeves, and
the officers in front of their quarters are educating a poodle; past
the gate at Kensington, with its smartest of light-dragoon sentries,
and the gardens with their fine old trees disguised in soot; past dead
walls overtopped with waving branches; on through a continuous
line of streets that will apparently reach to Bath; past public-houses
innumerable, and grocery-shops without end; past Hammersmith,
with its multiplicity of academies, and Turnham Green, and Chiswick,
and suburban terraces with almost fabulous names, and detached
houses with the scaffolding still up; past market-gardens and
rosaries, till Brentford is reached, where the disappointed traveller,
pining for the country, almost deems himself transported back again
east of Temple Bar. But Brentford is soon left behind, and a glimpse
of the “silver Thames” rejoices eyes that have been aching for
something farther afield than the Serpentine, and prepares them for
the unbounded views and free, fresh landscape afforded by
Hounslow Heath. “This is really the country,” says Blanche, inhaling
the pure air with a sigh of positive delight, while the General
exclaims, at the same instant, with his accustomed vigour, “Zounds!
the blockhead’s missed the turn to the barracks, after all.”
The ladies are very smart; and even Mary Delaval (the third
occupant of the carriage), albeit quieter and more dignified than
ever, has dressed in gaudier plumage than is her wont, as is the
practice of her sex when they are about to attend what they are
pleased to term “a breakfast.” As for Blanche, she is too charming—
such a little, gossamer bonnet stuck at the very back of that glossy
little head, so that the beholder knows not whether to be most
fascinated by the ethereal beauty of the fabric, or wonder-struck at
the dexterity with which it is kept on. Then the dresses of the pair
are like the hues of the morning, though of their texture, as of their
“trimmings,” it becomes us not to hazard an opinion. Talk of beauty
unadorned, and all that! Take the handsomest figure that ever
inspired a statuary—dress her, or rather undress her to the costume
of the Three Graces, or the Nine Muses, or any of those dowdies
immortalised by ancient art, and place her alongside of a moderately
good-looking Frenchwoman, with dark eyes and small feet, who has
been permitted to dress herself: why, the one is a mere corporeal
mass of shapely humanity, the other a sparkling emanation of light
and smiles and “tulle” (or whatever they call it) and coquetry and all
that is most irresistible. Blanche and Mary, with the assistance of
good taste and good milliners, were almost perfect types of their
different styles of feminine beauty. The General, too, was
wondrously attired. Retaining the predilections of his youth, he
shone in a variety of under-waistcoats, each more gorgeous than its
predecessor, surmounting the whole by a blue coat of unexampled
brilliancy and peculiar construction. Like most men who are not in
the habit of “getting themselves up” every day, he was always
irritable when thus clothed in “his best,” and was now peculiarly
fidgety as to the right turn by which his carriage should reach the
barracks where the “Loyal Hussars,” under the temporary command
of Major D’Orville, were about to give a breakfast of unspeakable
splendour and hospitality.
“That way—no—the other way, you blockhead!—straight on, and
short to the right!” vociferated the General to his bewildered
coachman, as they drew up at the barrack-gate; and Blanche timidly
suggested they should ask “that officer,” alluding to a dashing,
handsome individual guarding the entrance from behind an
enormous pair of dark moustaches.
“That’s only the sentry, Blanche,” remarked Mary Delaval, whose
early military experience made her more at home here than her
companion.
“Dear,” replied Blanche, colouring a little at her mistake, “I thought
he was a captain, at least—he’s very good-looking.”
But the barouche rolls on to the mess-room door, and although the
ladies are somewhat disappointed to find their entertainers in plain
clothes (a woman’s idea of a hussar being that he should live and
die en grande tenue), yet the said plain clothes are so well put on,
and the moustaches and whiskers so carefully arranged, and the fair
ones themselves received with such empressement, as to make full
amends for any deficiency of warlike costume. Besides, the
surrounding atmosphere is so thoroughly military. A rough-rider is
bringing a young horse from the school; a trumpet is sounding in the
barrack-yard; troopers lounging about in picturesque undress are
sedulously saluting their officers; all is suggestive of the show and
glitter which makes a soldier’s life so fascinating to woman.
Major D’Orville is ready to hand them out of the carriage. Lacquers is
stationed on the door steps. Captain Clank and Cornet Capon are in
attendance to receive their cloaks. Even Sir Ascot Uppercrust, who is
here as a guest, lays aside his usual nonchalance, and actually
“hopes Miss Kettering didn’t catch cold yesterday getting home from
Chiswick.” Clank whispers to Capon that he thinks “Uppy is making
strong running”; and Capon strokes his nascent moustaches, and
oracularly replies, “The divil doubt him.”
No wonder ladies like a military entertainment. It certainly is the
fashion among soldiers, as among their seafaring brethren, to
profess far greater devotion and exhibit more empressement in their
manner to the fair sex than is customary in this age with civilians.
The latter, more particularly that maligned class, “the young men of
the present day,” are not prone to put themselves much out of their
way for any one, and treat you, fair daughters of England, with a
mixture of patronage and carelessness which is far from
complimentary. How different you find it when you visit a barrack or
are shown over a man-of-war! Respectful deference waits on your
every expression, admiring eyes watch your charming movements,
and stalwart arms are proffered to assist your delicate steps.
Handsome, sunburnt countenances explain to you how the biscuit is
served out; or moustaches of incalculable volume wait your answer
as to “what polka you choose their band to perform.” You make
conquests all around you, and wherever you go your foot is on their
necks; but do not for this think that your image never can be effaced
from these warlike hearts. A good many of them, even the best-
looking ones, have got wives and children at home; and the others,
unencumbered though they be, save by their debts, are apt to
entertain highly anti-matrimonial sentiments, and to frame their
conduct on sundry aphorisms of a very faithless tendency,
purporting that “blue water is a certain cure for heart-ache”; that
judicious hussars are entitled “to love and to ride away”; with other
maxims of a like inconstant nature. Nay, in both services there is a
favourite air of inspiriting melody, the burden and title of which,
monstrous as it may appear, are these unfeeling words, “The girls
we leave behind us!” It is always played on marching out of a town.
But however ill our “captain bold” of the present day may behave to
“the girl he leaves behind him,” the lady in his front has small cause
to complain of remissness or inattention. The mess-room at
Hounslow is fitted up with an especial view to the approbation of the
fair sex. The band outside ravishes their ears with its enchanting
harmony; the officers and male guests dispose themselves in groups
with those whose society they most affect; and Blanche finds herself
the centre of attraction to sundry dashing warriors, not one of whom
would hesitate for an instant to abandon his visions of military
distinction, and link himself, his debts, and his moustaches, to the
fortunes of the pretty heiress.
Now, Sir Ascot Uppercrust has resolved this day to do or die—“to be
a man or a mouse,” as he calls it. Of this young gentleman we have
as yet said but little, inasmuch as he is one of that modern school
which, abounding in specimens through the higher ranks of society,
is best described by a series of negatives. He was not good-looking
—he was not clever—he was not well-educated; but, on the other
hand, he was not to be intimidated—not to be excited—and not to
be taken in. Coolness of mind and body were his principal
characteristics; no one ever saw “Uppy” in a hurry, or a dilemma, or
what is called “taken aback”; he would have gone into the ring and
laid the odds to an archbishop without a vestige of astonishment,
and with a carelessness of demeanour bordering upon contempt; or
he would have addressed the House of Commons, had he thought fit
to honour that formidable assemblage by his presence, with an
equanimity and insouciance but little removed from impertinence. A
quaint boy at Eton, cool hand at Oxford, a deep card in the
regiment, man or woman never yet had the best of “Uppy”; but to-
day he felt, for once, nervous and dispirited, and wished “the thing
was over,” and settled one way or the other. He was an only son, and
not used to be contradicted. His mother had confided to him her
own opinion of his attractions, and striven hard to persuade her
darling that he had but to see and conquer; nevertheless, the young
gentleman was not at all sanguine of success. Accustomed to view
things with an impartial and by no means a charitable eye, he
formed a dispassionate idea of his own attractions, and extended no
more indulgence to himself than to his friends. “Plain, but neat,” he
soliloquised that very morning, as he thought over his proceedings
whilst dressing; “not much of a talker, but a devil to think—good
position—certain rank—she’ll be a lady, though rather a Brummagem
one—house in Lowndes Street—place in the West—family diamonds
—and a fairish rent-roll (when the mortgages are paid)—that’s what
she would get. Now, what should I get? Nice girl—’gad, she is a nice
girl, with her ‘sun-bright hair’ as some fellow says—good temper—
good action—and three hundred thousand pounds. The exchange is
rather in my favour; but then all girls want to be married, and that
squares it, perhaps. If she says ‘Yes,’ sell out—give up hunting—
drive her about in a phaeton, and buy a yacht. If she says ‘No,’ get
second leave—go to Melton in November—and hang on with the
regiment, which ain’t a bad sort of life, after all. So it’s hedged both
ways. Six to one and half-a-dozen to the other. Very well; to-day
we’ll settle it.”
With these sentiments it is needless to remark that Sir Ascot was
none of your sighing, despairing, fire-eating adorers, whose violence
frightens a woman into a not unwilling consent; but a cautious, quiet
lover, on whom perhaps a civil refusal might be the greatest favour
she could confer. Nevertheless, he liked Blanche, too, in his own
way.
Well, the band played, and the luncheon was discussed, and the
room was cleared for an impromptu dance (meditated for a
fortnight); and some waltzed, and some flirted, and some walked
about and peeped into the troop-stables and inspected the riding-
school, and Blanche found herself, rather to her surprise, walking
tête-à-tête with Sir Ascot from the latter dusty emporium, lingering a
little behind the rest of the party, and separated altogether from the
General and Mary Delaval. Sir Ascot having skilfully detached
Lacquers, by informing him that he had made a fatal impression on
Miss Spanker, who was searching everywhere for the credulous
hussar; and having thus possessed himself of Blanche’s ear, now
stopped dead-short, looked the astonished girl full in the face, and
without moving a muscle of his own countenance, carelessly
remarked, “Miss Kettering, would you like to marry me?” Blanche
thought he was joking, and although it struck her as an ill-timed
piece of pleasantry, she strove to keep up the jest, and replied, with
a laugh and low curtsey, “Sir Ascot Uppercrust, you do me too much
honour.”
“No, but will you, Miss Kettering?” said Sir Ascot, getting quite warm
(for him). “Plain fellow—do what I can—make you happy—and all
that.”
“‘Sir Ascot Uppercrust, you do me too much
honour.’”
Page 182
Poor Blanche blushed crimson up to her eyes. Good heavens! then
the man was in earnest after all! What had she done—she, the pet
of “Cousin Charlie,” and the protégée of Frank Hardingstone—that
such a creature as this should presume to ask her such a question?
She hesitated—felt very angry—half inclined to laugh and half
inclined to cry; and Sir Ascot went on, “Silence gives consent, Miss
Kettering—’pon my soul, I’m immensely flattered—can’t express
what I feel—no poet, and that sort of thing—but I really am—eh!—
very—eh!” It was getting too absurd; if she did not take some
decisive step, here was a dandy quite prepared to affiance her
against her will, and what to say or how to say it, poor little Blanche,
who was totally unused to this sort of thing, and tormented,
moreover, with an invincible desire to laugh, knew no more than the
man in the moon.
“You misunderstand, Sir Ascot,” at last she stammered out; “I didn’t
mean—that is—I meant, or rather I intended—to—to—to—decline—
or, I should say—in short, I couldn’t for the world!” With which
unequivocal declaration Blanche blushed once more up to her eyes,
and to her inexpressible relief, put her arm within Major D’Orville’s,
that officer coming up opportunely at that moment; and seeing the
girl’s obvious confusion and annoyance, extricating her, as he
seemed always to do, from her unpleasant dilemma and her matter-
of-fact swain.
And this was Blanche’s first proposal. Nothing so alarming in it,
young ladies, after all. We fear you may be disappointed at the blunt
manner in which so momentous a question can be put. Here was no
language of flowers—no giving of roses and receiving of carnations
—no hoarding of locks of hair, or secreting of bracelets, or
kidnapping of gloves—none of the petty larceny of courtship—none
of the dubious, half-expressed, sentimental flummery which may
signify all that mortal heart can bestow, or may be the mere
coquetry of conventional gallantry. When he comes to the point, let
us hope his meaning may be equally plain, whether it is couched in a
wish that he might “be always helping you over stiles,” or a request
that you will “give him a right to walk with you by moonlight without
being scolded by mamma,” or an inquiry as to whether you “can live
in the country, and only come to London for three months during the
season,” or any other roundabout method of asking a
straightforward question. Let us hope, moreover, that the applicant
may be the right one, and that you may experience, to the extent of
actual impossibility, the proverbial difficulty of saying—No.
Now, it fell out that Major D’Orville arrived in the nick of time to save
Blanche from further embarrassment, in consequence of his inability,
in common with the rest of his fellow-creatures, “to know his own
mind.” The Major had got up the fête entirely, as he imagined, with
the idea of prosecuting his views against the heiress, and hardly
allowed to himself that, in his innermost soul, there lurked a hope
that Mrs. Delaval might accompany her former charge, and he might
see her just once more. Had D’Orville been thoroughly bad, he
would have been a successful man; as it was, there gleamed ever
and anon upon his worldly heart a ray of that higher nature, that
nobler instinct, which spoils the villain, while it makes the hero. Mary
had pierced the coat-of-mail in which the roué was encased;
probably her very indifference was her most fatal weapon. D’Orville
really loved her—yes, though he despised himself for the weakness
(since weakness it is deemed in creeds such as his), though he
would grind his teeth and stamp his foot in solitude, while he
muttered, “Fool! fool! to bow down before a woman!” yet the spell
was on him, and the chain was eating into his heart. In the watches
of the night her image sank into his brain and tortured him with its
calm, indifferent smile. In his dreams she bent over him, and her
drooping hair swept across his forehead, till the strong man woke,
and yearned like a child for a fellow-mortal’s love. But not for him
the childlike trust that can repose on human affection. Gaston had
eaten of the tree of knowledge, the knowledge of good and evil;
much did the evil predominate over the good, and still the galling
thought goaded him almost to madness. “Suppose I should gain this
woman’s affections—suppose I should sacrifice my every hope to
that sweet face, and find her, after all, like the rest of them! Suppose
I, too, should weary, as I have wearied before of faces well-nigh as
fair—hearts even far more kind—is there no green branch on earth?
Am I to wander for ever seeking rest and finding none? Am I to be
cursed, like a lost spirit, with longings for that happiness which my
very nature will not permit me to enjoy? Oh that I were wholly good,
or wholly bad! that I could loathe the false excitement and the
dazzling charms of vice, or steep my better feelings in the petrifying
waters of perdition! I will conquer my weakness. What should I care
for this stone-cold governess? I will be free, and this Mrs. Delaval
shall discover that I too can be as careless, and as faithless, and as
hard-hearted as—a woman!” With which laudable and manly
resolution our dashing Major proceeded to make the agreeable to his
guests, and to lose no opportunity of exchanging glances and mixing
in conversation with the very lady he had sworn so stoutly to avoid.
But with all his tactics, all his military proficiency in manœuvring, he
found it impossible to detach Mary from her party, or to engage her
in a tête-à-tête with himself. True-hearted and dignified, with her
pure affection fixed upon another, she was not a person to descend
to coquetry for the mere pleasure of a conquest, and she clung to
the General for the purpose of avoiding the Major, till old Bounce
became convinced that she was to add another name to the list of
victims who had already succumbed before his many fascinations.
The idea had been some time nascent in his mind, and as it now
grew and spread, and developed itself into a certainty, his old heart
warmed with a thrill he had not felt since the reign of the widow at
Cheltenham, and he made the agreeable in his own way by pointing
out to Mary all the peculiarities and arrangements of a barrack-yard,
interspersed with many abrupt exclamations and voluminous
personal anecdotes. Major D’Orville hovered round them the while,
and perhaps the very difficulty of addressing his former love
enhanced the charm of her presence and the fascination against
which he struggled. It is amusing to see a thorough man of the
world, one accustomed to conquer and enslave where he is himself
indifferent, awkward as the veriest schoolboy, timid and hesitating as
a girl, where he is really touched—though woman—
“Born to be controlled,
Stoop to the forward and the bold.”
She thereby gauges with a false measure the devotion for which she
pines. Would she know her real power, would she learn where she is
truly loved, let her take note of the averted eye, the haunting step,
ever hovering near, seldom daring to approach, the commonplace
remark that shrinks from the one cherished topic, and above all the
quivering voice, which, steady and commanding to the world beside,
fails only when it speaks to her. Mary Delaval might have noted this
had her heart not been in Kaffirland, or had the General allowed her
leisure to attend to anything but himself. “Look ye, my dear Mrs.
Delaval, our stables in India were ventilated quite differently.
Climate? how d’ye mean? climate makes no difference—why, I’ve
had the Kedjerees picketed in thousands round my tent. What?
D’Orville, you’ve been on the Sutlej—’gad, sir, your fellows would
have been astonished if I’d dropped among you there.”
“And justly so,” quietly remarked the Major; “if I remember right,
you were in cantonments more than three thousand miles off.”
“Well, at any rate, I taught those black fellows how to look after
their nags,” replied the General. “I left them the best-mounted corps
in the Presidency, and six weeks after my back was turned they
weren’t worth a row of pins. Zounds, don’t tell me! jobbing—jobbing
—nothing but jobbing! What? No sore backs whilst I commanded
them—at least among the horses,” added our disciplinarian,
reflectively; “can’t say as much with regard to the men. But there is
nothing like a big stick for a nigger—so let’s go and see the riding-
school.”
“I have still got the grey charger, Mrs. Delaval,” interposed the Major,
wishing old Bounce and his Kedjerees in a hotter climate than India;
“poor fellow, he’s quite white now, but as great a favourite still as he
was in ‘the merry days,’” and the Major’s voice shook a little. “Would
you like to see him?”
Mary understood the allusion, but her calm affirmative was as
indifferent as ever, and the trio were proceeding to the Major’s
stables, that officer going on before to find his groom, when he met
Blanche, as we have already said, and divining intuitively what had
taken place by her flushed countenance and embarrassed manner,
offered his arm to conduct her back to her party, thereby earning
her eternal gratitude, no less than that of Sir Ascot, who, as he
afterwards confided to an intimate friend, “was completely in the
hole, and didn’t the least know what the devil to do next.”
And now D’Orville practically demonstrated the advantage in the
game of flirtation possessed by an untouched heart. With the
governess he had been diffident, hesitating, almost awkward; with
the pupil he was eloquent and winning as usual. His good taste told
him it would be absurd to ignore Blanche’s obvious trepidation, and
his knowledge of the sex taught him that the “soothing system,” with
a mixture of lover-like respect and paternal kindness, might produce
important results. So he begged Blanche to lean on his arm and
compose her nerves, and talked kindly to her in his soft, deep voice.
“I can see you have been annoyed, Miss Kettering—you know the
interest I take in you, and I trust you will not consider me
presumptuous in wishing to extricate you from further
embarrassment. I am an old fellow now,” and the Major smiled his
own winning smile, “and therefore a fit chaperon for young ladies. I
have nobody to care for” (D’Orville, D’Orville! you would shoot a
man who called you a liar), “and I have watched you as if you were
a sister or a child of my own. Pray do not tell me more than if I can
be of any service to you; and if I can, my dear Miss Kettering,
command me to the utmost extent of my powers!” What could
Blanche do but thank him warmly? and who shall blame the girl for
feeling gratified by the interest of such a man, or for entertaining a
vague sort of satisfaction that after all she was neither his sister nor
his daughter. Had he been ten years older she would have thrown
her arms round his neck, and kissed him in childlike confidence; as it
was, she pressed closer to his side, and felt her heart warm to the
kind, considerate protector. The Major saw his advantage, and
proceeded—“I am alone in the world, you know, and seldom have
an opportunity of doing any one a kindness. We soldiers lead a sadly
unsatisfactory, desultory sort of life. Till you ‘came out’ this year, I
had no one to care for, no one to interest myself about; but since I
have seen you every day, and watched you enjoying yourself, and
admired and sought after, I have felt like a different man. I have a
great deal to thank you for, Miss Kettering; I was rapidly growing
into a selfish, heartless old gentleman, but you have renewed my
youthful feelings and freshened up my better nature, till I sometimes
think I am almost happy. How can I repay you but by watching over
your career, and should you ever require it, placing my whole
existence at your disposal? It would break my heart to see you
thrown away—no; believe me, Miss Kettering, you have no truer
friend than myself, none that admires or loves you better than your
old chaperon;” and as the Major spoke he looked so kindly and
sincerely into the girl’s face, that albeit his language might bear the
interpretation of actual love, and was, as Hairblower would have
said, “uncommon near the wind,” it seemed the most natural thing in
the world under the circumstances, and Blanche leaned on his arm,
and talked and laughed, and told him to get the carriage, and
otherwise ordered him about with a strangely-mixed feeling of
childlike confidence and gratified vanity. The party broke up at an
early hour, many of them having dinner-engagements in London;
and as D’Orville handed Blanche into her carriage, he felt that he
had to-day made a prodigious stride towards the great object in
view. He had gained the girl’s confidence, no injudicious movement
towards gaining her heart and her fortune. He pressed her hand as
she wished him good-bye; and while he did so, shuddered at the
consciousness of his meanness. Too well he knew he loved another
—a word, a look from Mary Delaval, would have saved him even
now; but her farewell was cold and short as common courtesy would
admit of, and he ground his teeth as he thought those feet would
spurn him, at which he would give his very life to fall. The worst
passions of his nature were aroused. He swore, some day, to humble
that proud heart in the dust, but the first step at all events must be
to win the heiress. This morning he could have given up all for Mary,
but now he was himself again, and the Major walked moodily back
to barracks, a wiser (as the world would opine), but certainly not a
better man.
Care, however, although, as Horace tells us, “she sits behind the
horseman,” is a guest whose visits are but little encouraged by the
light dragoon. Our gallant hussars were not inclined to mope down
at Hounslow after their guests had returned to town, and the last
carriage had scarcely driven off with its fair freight, ere phaeton,
buggy, riding-horse, and curricle were put in requisition, to take their
military owners back to the metropolis; that victim of discipline, the
orderly officer, being alone left to console himself in his solitude, as
he best might, with his own reflections and the society of a water-
spaniel. To-morrow morning they must be again on the road, to
reach head-quarters in time for parade; but to-morrow morning is a
long way off from gentlemen who live every hour of their lives; so
away they go, each on his own devices, but one and all resolved to
make the most of the present, and glitter, whilst they may, in the
sunshine of their too brief noon.
St. George’s clock tolls one, and Blanche has been asleep for hours
in her quiet room at the back of the house in Grosvenor Square.
Pure thoughts and pleasant dreams have hovered round the young
girl’s pillow, and the last image present to her eyes has been the
kind, handsome face of Major D’Orville—the hero who, commanding
to all besides, is so gentle, so considerate, so tender with her alone.
“Perhaps,” thought she, as the midnight rain beat against her
window-panes, “he is even now going his bleak rounds at Hounslow”
(Blanche had a vague idea that the hussars spent the night in
patrolling the heath), “wrapped in his cloak, on that dear white
horse, very likely thinking of me. How such a man is thrown away,
with his kindly feelings, and his noble mind, and his courageous
heart. ‘Nobody to care for,’ he said; ‘alone in the world’;” and little
Blanche sighed a sigh of that pity which is akin to a softer feeling,
and experienced for an instant that startling throb with which love
knocks at the door, like some unwelcome visitor, ere habit has
emboldened him to walk up-stairs, unbidden, and make himself at
home.
Let us see how right the maiden was in her conjectures, and follow
the Major through his bleak rounds, and his night of military
hardships.
As we perambulate London at our loitering leisure, and stare about
us in the desultory, wandering manner of those who have nothing to
do, now admiring an edifice, now peeping into a print-shop, we are
often brought up, “all standing,” in one of the great thoroughfares,
by the magnificent proportions, the architectural splendour, of a
building which our peaceful calling debars us from entering.
Nevertheless we may gaze and gape at the stately outside; we may
admire the lofty windows, with their florid ornaments, and marvel for
what purpose are intended the upper casements, which seem to us
like the bull’s-eyes let into the deck of a three-decker, magnified to a
gigantic uselessness; we may stare till the nape of our neck warns
us to desist, at the classic ornaments raised in high relief around the
roof, where strange mythological devices, unknown to Lemprière,
mystify alike the antiquarian and the naturalist,—centaurs,
terminating in salmon-trout, career around the cornices, more
grotesque than the mermaid, more inexplicable than the sphinx. In
vain we cudgel our brains to ask of what faith, what principle these
monsters may be the symbols. Can they represent the insignia of
that corps so strangely omitted in the Army List—known to a grateful
country as the horse marines? Are they a glorious emanation of
modern art? or are they, as the Irish gentleman suggested of our
martello towers, only intended to puzzle posterity? Splendid,
however, as may be the outward magnificence of this military
palace, it is nothing compared with the luxury that reigns within, and
the heroes of both services enjoy a delightful contrast to the
hardships of war, in the spacious saloons and exquisite repasts
provided for its members by the “Peace and Plenty Club.”
“Waiter—two large cigars and another sherry-cobbler,” lisps a voice
which, although somewhat thicker than usual, we have no difficulty
in recognising as the property of Captain Lacquers. That officer has
dined “severely,” as he calls it, and is slightly inebriated. He is
reclining on three chairs, in a large, lofty apartment, devoid of
furniture, and surrounded by ottomans. From its airy situation,
general appearance, and pervading odour, we have no difficulty in
identifying it as the smoking-room of the establishment. At our
friend’s elbow stands a small table, with empty glasses, and opposite
him, with his heels above the level of his head, and a cigar of
“sesquipedalian” length in his mouth, sits Sir Ascot Uppercrust.
Gaston D’Orville is by his side, veiling his handsome face in clouds of
smoke, and they are all three talking about the heiress. Yes; these
are the Major’s rounds, these are the hardships innocent Blanche
sighed to think of. It is lucky that ladies can neither hear nor see us
in our masculine retreats.
“So she refused you, Uppy; refused you point blank, did she? ’Gad, I
like her for it,” said Lacquers, the romance of whose disposition was
much enhanced by his potations.
“Deuced impertinent, I call it,” replied the repulsed; “won’t have
such a chance again. After all, she’s not half a nice girl.”
“Don’t say that,” vociferated Lacquers, “don’t say that. She’s perfect,
my dear boy; she’s enchanting—she’s got mind, and that—what’s a
woman without intellect?—without the what-d’ye-call-it spark?—a—a
—you recollect the quotation.”
“A pudding without plums,” said Sir Ascot, who was a bit of a wag in
a quiet way; and “A fiddle without strings,” suggested the Major at
the same moment.
“Exactly,” replied Lacquers, quite satisfied; “well, my dear fellow, I’m
a man that adores all that sort of thing. ’Gad, I can’t do without
talent, and music, and so on. Do I ever miss an opera? Didn’t I half
ruin myself for Pastorelli, because she could dance? Now, I’ll tell you
what”—and the speaker, lighting a fresh cigar, forgot what he was
going to say.
“Then you’re rather smitten with Miss Kettering, too,” observed
D’Orville, who, as usual, was determined not to throw a chance
away. “I thought a man of your many successes was blasé with that
sort of thing;” and the Major smiled at Sir Ascot, whilst Lacquers
went off again at score.
“To be sure, I’ve gone very deep into the thing, old fellow, as you
know; and I think I understand women. You may depend upon it
they like a fellow with brains. But I ought to settle; I ‘flushed’ a grey
hair yesterday in my whiskers, and this is just the girl to suit. It’s not
her money I care for; I’ve got plenty—at least I can get plenty at
seven per cent. No, it is her intellect, and her refusing Uppy, that I
like. What did you say, my boy? how did you begin?” he added,
thinking he might as well get a hint. “Did you tip her any poetry?
Tommy Moore, and that other fellow, little What’s-his-name?”
Lacquers was beginning to speak very thick, and did not wait for an
answer. “I’ll show you how to settle these matters to-morrow after
parade. First I’ll go to——Who’s that fellow just come in? ’Gad, it’s
Clank—good fellow, Clank. I say, Clank, will you come to my
wedding? Recollect I asked you to-night; be very particular about
the date. Let me see; to-morrow’s the second Sunday after Ascot. I’ll
lay any man three to two the match comes off before Goodwood.”
D’Orville smiles calmly. He hears the woman whom he intends to
make his wife talked of thus lightly, yet no feeling of bitterness rises
in his mind against the drunken dandy. Would he not resent such
mention of another name? But his finances will not admit of such a
chance as the present wager being neglected; so he draws out his
betting-book, and turning over its well-filled leaves for a clear place,
quietly observes, “I’ll take it—three to two, what in?”
“Pounds, ponies, or hundreds,” vociferates Lacquers, now decidedly
uproarious; “thousands if you like. Fortune favours the brave. Vogue
la thingumbob! Waiter! brandy-and-water! Clank, you’re a trump:
shake hands, Clank. We won’t go home till morning. Yonder he goes:
tally-ho!” And while the Major, who is a man of conscience, satisfies
himself with betting his friend’s bet in hundreds, Lacquers vainly
endeavours to make a corresponding memorandum; and finding his
fingers refuse their office, gives himself up to his fate, and with an
abortive attempt to embrace the astonished Clank, subsides into a
sitting posture on the floor.
The rest adjourn to whist in the drawing-room; and Gaston D’Orville
concludes his rounds by losing three hundred to Sir Ascot; “Uppy”
congratulating himself on not having made such a bad day’s work
after all.
As the Major walks home to his lodgings in the first pure flush of the
summer’s morning, how he loathes that man whose fresh unsullied
boyhood he remembers so well. What is he now? Nothing to rest on;
nothing to hope for—loving one—deceiving another. If he gain his
object, what is it but a bitter perjury? Gambler—traitor—profligate—
turn which way he will, there is nothing but ruin, misery, and sin.
CHAPTER XIII
THE WORLD
SELLING THE COPYRIGHT—THE POLITICIAN’S DAY-DREAMS—
TATTERSALL’S AT FLOOD—A DANDY’S DESTINY
“Can’t do it, my lord—your lordship must consider—overwritten
yourself sadly of late—your ‘Broadsides from the Baltic’ were
excellent—telling, clever, and eloquent; but you’ll excuse me—you
were incorrect in your statistics and mistaken in your facts. Then
your last novel, ‘Captain Flash; or, the Modern Grandison,’ was a
dead loss to us—lively work—well reviewed—but it didn’t sell. In
these days people don’t care to go behind the scenes for a peep at
aristocratic ruffians and chivalrous black-legs—no, what we want is
something original—hot and strong, my lord, and lots of nature.
Now, these translations”—and the publisher, for a publisher it was
who spoke, waved his sword of office, a huge ivory paper-cutter,
towards a bundle of manuscripts—“these translations from the
‘Medea’ are admirably done—elegant language—profound
scholarship—great merit—but the public won’t look at them; and
even with your lordship’s name to help them off, we cannot say
more than three hundred—in point of fact, I think we are hardly
justified in going as far as that;” and the publisher crossed his legs
and sat back in his arm-chair, like a man who had made up his mind.
We have almost lost sight of Lord Mount Helicon since the Guyville
ball, but he now turns up, attending to business, as he calls it, and is
sitting in Mr. Bracketts’ back-room, driving as hard a bargain as he
can for the barter of his intellectual produce, and conducting the
sale in his usual careless, good-humoured manner, although he has
a bill coming due to-morrow, and ready money is a most important
consideration. The little back-room is perfectly lined with
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Advances In Enterprise Engineering Vi Second Enterprise Engineering Working Conference Eewc 2012 Delft The Netherlands May 78 2012 Proceedings 1st Edition Antonia Albani

  • 1. Advances In Enterprise Engineering Vi Second Enterprise Engineering Working Conference Eewc 2012 Delft The Netherlands May 78 2012 Proceedings 1st Edition Antonia Albani download https://ebookbell.com/product/advances-in-enterprise-engineering- vi-second-enterprise-engineering-working-conference- eewc-2012-delft-the-netherlands-may-78-2012-proceedings-1st- edition-antonia-albani-4203192 Explore and download more ebooks at ebookbell.com
  • 2. Here are some recommended products that we believe you will be interested in. You can click the link to download. Advances In Enterprise Engineering Xvi 12th Enterprise Engineering Working Conference Eewc 2022 Leusden The Netherlands November 23 2022 Revised Selected Papers Cristine Griffo https://ebookbell.com/product/advances-in-enterprise-engineering- xvi-12th-enterprise-engineering-working-conference-eewc-2022-leusden- the-netherlands-november-23-2022-revised-selected-papers-cristine- griffo-50395074 Advances In Enterprise Engineering I 4th International Workshop Ciao And 4th International Workshop Eomas Held At Caise 2008 Montpellier France June Notes In Business Information Processing 1st Edition Jan Lg Dietz https://ebookbell.com/product/advances-in-enterprise- engineering-i-4th-international-workshop-ciao-and-4th-international- workshop-eomas-held-at-caise-2008-montpellier-france-june-notes-in- business-information-processing-1st-edition-jan-lg-dietz-2188210 Advances In Enterprise Engineering Iii 5th International Workshop Ciao 2009 And 5th International Workshop Eomas 2009 Held At Caise 2009 Amsterdam Notes In Business Information Processing 1st Edition Antonia Albani https://ebookbell.com/product/advances-in-enterprise-engineering- iii-5th-international-workshop-ciao-2009-and-5th-international- workshop-eomas-2009-held-at-caise-2009-amsterdam-notes-in-business- information-processing-1st-edition-antonia-albani-2200858 Advances In Enterprise Engineering V First Enterprise Engineering Working Conference Eewc 2011 Antwerp Belgium May 1617 2011 Proceedings 1st Edition Joop De Jong Auth https://ebookbell.com/product/advances-in-enterprise-engineering-v- first-enterprise-engineering-working-conference-eewc-2011-antwerp- belgium-may-1617-2011-proceedings-1st-edition-joop-de-jong- auth-2227084
  • 3. Advances In Enterprise Engineering Vii Third Enterprise Engineering Working Conference Eewc 2013 Luxembourg May 1314 2013 Proceedings 1st Edition Henderik A Proper https://ebookbell.com/product/advances-in-enterprise-engineering-vii- third-enterprise-engineering-working-conference-eewc-2013-luxembourg- may-1314-2013-proceedings-1st-edition-henderik-a-proper-4241040 Advances In Enterprise Engineering Ii First Naf Academy Working Conference On Practicedriven Research On Enterprise Transformation Pret 2009 Held At Caise 2009 Amsterdam The Netherlands June 11 2009 Proceedings 1st Edition Andrea Baumann https://ebookbell.com/product/advances-in-enterprise-engineering-ii- first-naf-academy-working-conference-on-practicedriven-research-on- enterprise-transformation-pret-2009-held-at-caise-2009-amsterdam-the- netherlands-june-11-2009-proceedings-1st-edition-andrea- baumann-4606308 Advances In Enterprise Engineering Viii 4th Enterprise Engineering Working Conference Eewc 2014 Funchal Madeira Island Portugal May 58 2014 Proceedings 1st Edition David Aveiro https://ebookbell.com/product/advances-in-enterprise-engineering- viii-4th-enterprise-engineering-working-conference-eewc-2014-funchal- madeira-island-portugal-may-58-2014-proceedings-1st-edition-david- aveiro-4697162 Advances In Enterprise Engineering Ix 5th Enterprise Engineering Working Conference Eewc 2015 Prague Czech Republic June 1519 2015 Proceedings 1st Edition David Aveiro https://ebookbell.com/product/advances-in-enterprise-engineering- ix-5th-enterprise-engineering-working-conference-eewc-2015-prague- czech-republic-june-1519-2015-proceedings-1st-edition-david- aveiro-5141630 Advances In Enterprise Engineering X 6th Enterprise Engineering Working Conference Eewc 2016 Funchal Madeira Island Portugal May 30june 3 2016 Proceedings 1st Edition David Aveiro https://ebookbell.com/product/advances-in-enterprise- engineering-x-6th-enterprise-engineering-working-conference- eewc-2016-funchal-madeira-island-portugal- may-30june-3-2016-proceedings-1st-edition-david-aveiro-5485098
  • 5. Lecture Notes in Business Information Processing 110 Series Editors Wil van der Aalst Eindhoven Technical University, The Netherlands John Mylopoulos University of Trento, Italy Michael Rosemann Queensland University of Technology, Brisbane, Qld, Australia Michael J. Shaw University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, IL, USA Clemens Szyperski Microsoft Research, Redmond, WA, USA
  • 6. Antonia Albani David Aveiro Joseph Barjis (Eds.) Advances in EnterpriseEngineeringVI Second Enterprise Engineering Working Conference, EEWC 2012 Delft, The Netherlands, May 7-8, 2012 Proceedings 1 3
  • 7. Volume Editors Antonia Albani University of St. Gallen St. Gallen, Switzerland E-mail: [email protected] David Aveiro University of Madeira Funchal, Portugal E-mail: [email protected] Joseph Barjis Delft University of Technology Delft, The Netherlands E-mail: [email protected] ISSN 1865-1348 e-ISSN 1865-1356 ISBN 978-3-642-29902-5 e-ISBN 978-3-642-29903-2 DOI 10.1007/978-3-642-29903-2 Springer Heidelberg Dordrecht London New York Library of Congress Control Number: 2012936119 ACM Computing Classification (1998): J.1, H.3.5, H.4-5 © Springer-Verlag Berlin Heidelberg 2012 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, re-use of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other way, and storage in data banks. Duplication of this publication or parts thereof is permitted only under the provisions of the German Copyright Law of September 9, 1965, in its current version, and permission for use must always be obtained from Springer. Violations are liable to prosecution under the German Copyright Law. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. Typesetting: Camera-ready by author, data conversion by Scientific Publishing Services, Chennai, India Printed on acid-free paper Springer is part of Springer Science+Business Media (www.springer.com)
  • 8. Preface Enterprise engineering is an emerging discipline that studies enterprises from an engineering perspective. It means that enterprises are considered to be de- signed and implemented systems, which consequently can be re-designed and re-implemented if there is a need for change. Enterprise engineering is rooted in both the organizational sciences and the information system sciences. The rigor- ous integration of these traditionally disjoint scientific areas has become possible after the recognition that communication is a form of action. The operating prin- ciple of organizations is that actors enter into and comply with commitments, and in doing so bring about the business services of the enterprise. This impor- tant insight clarifies the view that enterprises belong to the category of social systems, i.e., its active elements (actors) are social individuals (human beings). The unifying role of human beings makes it possible to address problems in a holistic way, to achieve unity and integration in bringing about any organiza- tional change. Also when regarding the implementation of organizations by means of modern information and communication technology (ICT), enterprise engineering offers innovative ideas. In a similar way as the ontological model of an organization is based on atomic elements (namely, communicative acts), there is an ontological model for ICT applications. Such a model is based on a small set of atomic elements, such as data elements and action elements. By constructing software in this way, the combinatorial effects (i.e., the increasing effort it takes in the course of time to bring about a particular change) in software engineering can be avoided. The development of enterprise engineering requires the active involvement of a variety of research institutes and a tight collaboration between them. This is achieved by a continuously expanding network of universities and other insti- tutes, called the CIAO! Network (www.ciaonetwork.org). Since 2005 this network has organized the annual CIAO! Workshop, and since 2008 its proceedings have been published as Advances in Enterprise Engineering in the Springer LNBIP series. From 2011 on, this workshop was replaced by the Enterprise Engineering Working Conference (EEWC). This book contains the proceedings of the second EEWC, which was held in Delft, The Netherlands. May 2012 Antonia Albani David Aveiro Joseph Barjis
  • 9. Enterprise Engineering – The Manifesto Introduction This manifesto presents the focal topics and objectives of the emerging discipline of enterprise engineering, as it is currently theorized and developed within the CIAO! Network. There is close cooperation between the CIAO! Net- work (www.ciaonetwork.org) and the Enterprise Engineering Institute (www.ee- institute.com) for promoting the practical application of enterprise engineering. The manifesto comprises seven postulates, which collectively constitute the en- terprise engineering paradigm (EEP). Motivation The vast majority of strategic initiatives fail, meaning that enterprises are un- able to gain success from their strategy. Abundant research indicates that the key reason for strategic failures is the lack of coherence and consistency among the various components of an enterprise. At the same time, the need to operate as a unified and integrated whole is becoming increasingly important. These chal- lenges are dominantly addressed from a functional or managerial perspective, as advocated by management and organization science. Such knowledge is neces- sary and sufficient for managing an enterprise, but it is inadequate for bringing about changes. To do that, one needs to take a constructional or engineering perspective. Both organizations and software systems are complex and prone to entropy. This means that in the course of time, the costs of bringing about similar changes increase in a way that is known as combinatorial explosion. Re- garding (automated) information systems, this has been demonstrated; regard- ing organizations, it is still a conjecture. Entropy can be reduced and managed effectively through modular design based on atomic elements. The people in an enterprise are collectively responsible for the operation (including management) of the enterprise. In addition, they are collectively responsible for the evolution of the enterprise (adapting to needs for change). These responsibilities can only be borne if one has appropriate knowledge of the enterprise. Mission Addressing the challenges mentioned above requires a paradigm shift. It is the mission of the discipline of enterprise engineering to develop new, appropriate theories, models, methods, and other artifacts for the analysis, design, imple- mentation, and governance of enterprises by combining (relevant parts of) man- agement and organization science, information systems science, and computer science. The ambition is to address (all) traditional topics in said disciplines from the enterprise engineering paradigm. The result of our efforts should be theoretically rigorous and practically relevant.
  • 10. VIII Enterprise Engineering – The Manifesto Postulates Postulate 1 In order to perform optimally and to implement changes successfully, enterprises must operate as a unified and integrated whole. Unity and integration can only be achieved through deliberate enterprise development (comprising design, engi- neering, and implementation) and governance. Postulate 2 Enterprises are essentially social systems, of which the elements are human be- ings in their role of social individuals, bestowed with appropriate authority and bearing the corresponding responsibility. The operating principle of enterprises is that these human beings enter into and comply with commitments regarding the products (services) that they create (deliver). Commitments are the results of coordination acts, which occur in universal patterns, called transactions. Note. Human beings may be supported by technical artifacts of all kinds, notably by ICT systems. Therefore, enterprises are often referred to as socio- technical systems. However, only human beings are responsible and accountable for what the supporting technical artifacts do. Postulate 3 There are two distinct perspectives on enterprises (as on all systems): func- tion and construction. All other perspectives are a subdivision of one of these. Accordingly, there are two distinct kinds of models: black-box models and white- box models. White-box models are objective; they regard the construction of a system. Black-box models are subjective; they regard a function of a system. Function is not a system property but a relationship between the system and some stakeholder(s). Both perspectives are needed for developing enterprises. Note. For convenience sake, we talk about the business of an enterprise when taking the function perspective of the customer, and about its organization when taking the construction perspective. Postulate 4 In order to manage the complexity of a system (and to reduce and manage its entropy), one must start the constructional design of the system with its ontolog- ical model. This is a fully implementation-independent model of the construction and the operation of the system. Moreover, an ontological model has a modular structure and its elements are (ontologically) atomic. For enterprises the meta- model of such models is called enterprise ontology. For information systems the meta-model is called information system ontology. Note. At any moment in the lifetime of a system, there is only one ontological model, capturing its actual construction, though abstracted from its implemen- tation. The ontological model of a system is comprehensive and concise, and extremely stable.
  • 11. Enterprise Engineering – The Manifesto IX Postulate 5 It is an ethical necessity for bestowing authorities on the people in an enterprise, and having them bear the corresponding responsibility, that these people are able to internalize the (relevant parts of the) ontological model of the enterprise, and to constantly validate the correspondence of the model with the operational reality. Note. It is a duty of enterprise engineers to provide the means to the people in an enterprise to internalize its ontological model. Postulate 6 To ensure that an enterprise operates in compliance with its strategic concerns, these concerns must be transformed into generic functional and constructional normative principles, which guide the (re-)development of the enterprise, in ad- dition to the applicable specific requirements. A coherent, consistent, and hi- erarchically ordered set of such principles for a particular class of systems is called an architecture. The collective architectures of an enterprise are called its enterprise architecture. Note. The term “architecture” is often used (also) for a model that is the outcome of a design process, during which some architecture is applied. We do not recommend this homonymous use of the word. Postulate 7 For achieving and maintaining unity and integration in the (re-)development and operation of an enterprise, organizational measures are needed, collectively called governance. The organizational competence to take and apply these measures on a continuous basis is called enterprise governance. May 2012 Jan L.G. Dietz
  • 12. Organization EEWC 2012 was the second Working Conference resulting from a series of suc- cessful CIAO! Workshops over the years and EEWC 2011. These events aimed at addressing the challenges that modern and complex enterprises are facing in a rapidly changing world. The participants in these events share the belief that dealing with these challenges requires rigorous and scientific solutions, focusing on the design and engineering of enterprises. This conviction led to the idea of annually organizing an international work- ing conference on the topic of enterprise engineering, in order to bring together all stakeholders interested in making enterprise engineering a reality. This means that not only scientists are invited, but also practitioners. Next, it also means that the conference is aimed at active participation, discussion, and exchange of ideas in order to stimulate future cooperation among the participants. This makes EEWC a working conference contributing to the further development of enterprise engineering as a mature discipline. The organization of EEWC 2012 and the peer review of the contributions to EEWC 2012 were accomplished by an outstanding international team of ex- perts in the fields of enterprise engineering. The following is the organizational structure of EEWC 2012. General Chair Jan L.G. Dietz Delft University of Technology, The Netherlands Conference Chair Antonia Albani University of St. Gallen, Switzerland Program Chair David Aveiro University of Madeira, Portugal Organization Chair Joseph Barjis Delft University of Technology, The Netherlands
  • 13. XII Organization Program Commitee Bernhard Bauer University of Augsburg, Germany Christian Huemer Vienna University of Technology, Austria Dai Senoo Tokyo Institute of Technology, Japan Eduard Babkin Higher School of Economics, Nizhny Novgorod, Russia Emmanuel Hostria Rockwell Automation, USA Eric Dubois Public Research Centre - Henri Tudor, Luxembourg Erik Proper Public Research Centre - Henri Tudor, Luxembourg Florian Matthes Technical University Munich, Germany Gil Regev École Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne (EPFL), Itecor, Switzerland Graham McLeod University of Cape Town, South Africa Hans Mulder University of Antwerp, Belgium Jan Hoogervorst Sogeti Netherlands, The Netherlands Jan Verelst University of Antwerp, Belgium Joaquim Filipe School of Technology of Setúbal, Portugal José Tribolet INESC and Technical University of Lisbon, Portugal Junichi Iijima Tokyo Institute of Technology, Japan Marielba Zacarias University of Algarve, Portugal Martin Op ’t Land Capgemini, The Netherlands Natalia Aseeva Higher School of Economics, Nizhny Novgorod, Russia Olga Khvostova Higher School of Economics, Nizhny Novgorod, Russia Paul Johanesson Stockholm University, Sweden Peter Loos University of Saarland, Germany Pnina Soffer MIS department, Haifa University, Israel Robert Lagerström KTH - Royal Institute of Technology, Sweden Robert Winter University of St. Gallen, Switzerland Rony Flatscher Vienna University of Economics and Business Administration, Austria Sanetake Nagayoshi Tokyo Institute of Technology, Japan Stijn Hoppenbrouwers Radboud University Nijmegen, The Netherlands
  • 14. Table of Contents Foundations of Enterprise Engineering Strengthening the Foundations Underlying the Enterprise Engineering Manifesto . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 Martin Op ’t Land and João Pombinho The Principles of Enterprise Engineering . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Jan L.G. Dietz and Jan A.P. Hoogervorst Towards Applying Normalized Systems Theory Implications to Enterprise Process Reference Models . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31 Peter De Bruyn, Dieter Van Nuffel, Jan Verelst, and Herwig Mannaert Enterprise Control, Flexibility and Governance Enterprise Dynamic Systems Control Enforcement of Run-Time Business Transactions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46 Sérgio Guerreiro, André Vasconcelos, and José Tribolet A Study of the Patterns for Reducing Exceptions and Improving Business Process Flexibility . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61 Sanetake Nagayoshi, Yang Liu, and Junichi Iijima Benefits of Enterprise Ontology in Governing Complex Enterprise Transformations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77 Martin Op ’t Land and Jan L.G. Dietz Specifying Value Towards Objective Business Modeling in Enterprise Engineering – Defining Function, Value and Purpose . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93 João Pombinho, David Aveiro, and José Tribolet Monitoring Value Webs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108 Patrı́cio de Alencar Silva and Hans Weigand Author Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125
  • 15. A. Albani, D. Aveiro, and J. Barjis (Eds.): EEWC 2012, LNBIP 110, pp. 1–14, 2012. © Springer-Verlag Berlin Heidelberg 2012 Strengthening the Foundations Underlying the Enterprise Engineering Manifesto Martin Op ’t Land1,2 and João Pombinho3,4 1 Capgemini Netherlands, P.O. Box 2575, 3500 GN Utrecht, The Netherlands 2 Delft University of Technology, Delft, The Netherlands 3 Instituto Superior Técnico, Technical University of Lisbon, Lisbon, Portugal 4 CODE - Center for Organizational Design & Engineering, INESC INOV, Rua Alves Redol 9, Lisbon, Portugal [email protected], [email protected] Abstract. The discipline of Enterprise Engineering aims for enterprises to oper- ate as a unified and integrated whole. This discipline therefore adopts the mis- sion to develop theories, models, methods and other artifacts for the analysis, design, implementation and governance of enterprises in a theoretically rigor- ous and practically relevant manner. The Enterprise Engineering Manifesto postulates the dualities of concepts function/construction perspective, black- box/white-box models and subjective/objective as being opposed to each other in one-on-one relationships. Illustrated by the Pizzeria case, it becomes clear (a) that functions can be de- fined objectively, and (b) that a valuation perspective should be added that truly focuses on the relationship between a system and its stakeholders. These insights can support building stronger bridges between management and organ- ization sciences – traditionally stronger in functional approaches – and information systems science, and computer science – traditionally stronger in constructional approaches. Keywords: Enterprise Engineering, Enterprise Engineering Manifesto, Func- tion perspective, Construction perspective, Black-box models, White-box models. 1 Introduction According to the Enterprise1 Engineering Manifesto (EEM)[1], Enterprise Engineer- ing is an emerging discipline that deals with developing theories, models, methods and other artifacts for the analysis, design, implementation and governance of enter- prises in a theoretically rigorous and practically relevant manner. Since this goal encompasses different domains of knowledge, enterprise engineering is itself a multi- disciplinary discipline that combines concepts from management and organization science, information systems science, and computer science. One of the challenges 1 We use the term “enterprise” for any goal-oriented cooperative of people.
  • 16. 2 M. Op ’t Land and J. Pombinho that arise from this approach is being able to coherently and consistently combine the various components of an enterprise, while coping with the adaption and change con- cerns that inherently will arise over time. Indeed, the complexity of businesses and the high change pace of their environments, coupled with increasing ICT support, turn the gap between strategy and its implementation into a major challenge. Studies indicate as much as 90 percent of organizations fail to succeed in applying their strategies [2]. The EEM [1] states that management and organization sciences address these is- sues predominantly from a functional perspective. Conversely, information systems science and computer science mainly make use of the constructional or engineering perspective. The EEM then focuses on the contributions of constructional thinking to the Enterprise Engineering (EE) discipline. Particularly, its Postulate 3 reads: “There are two distinct perspectives on enterprises (as on all systems): function and construction. All other perspectives are a subdivision of one of these. Accordingly, there are two distinct kinds of models: black-box models and white-box models. White-box models are objective; they regard the construction of a system. Black- box models are subjective; they regard a function of a system. Function is not a system property but a relationship between the system and some stakeholder(s). Both perspectives are needed for developing enterprises.” Three dualities of concepts are mentioned, and set in one-to-one relationships: • Function and Construction perspectives; • Black-box and White-box models; • Subjectivity and Objectivity. We agree with EEM that these concepts have a very important role as a referential for the entire EE discipline. Therefore it would be beneficial to clarify their definitions and relations, to not only distinguish these notions, but also be able to connect them. Suppose, for instance, that it would be possible to define functions (more) objectively, then it would be possible to simulate, test and maybe even prove coherence, sufficien- cy, etc. of a certain construction and implementation to bring about certain functions. This would contribute to a core value of Enterprise Engineering, namely unified and holistic design, truly combining management and engineering disciplines. The remainder of this paper is structured as follows. Section 2 begins with a brief Problem Statement, and the introduction of the running Pizzeria example for our con- ceptual exploration. Then Section 3 presents the three mentioned dualities of con- cepts, instantiated with the Pizzeria example. Next, the three dualities are discussed and compared in Section 4. The paper closes with conclusions and recommendations regarding Enterprise Engineering in general, and regarding the EEM specifically. 2 Problem Statement The main question we want to answer is: “Looking at the three dualities of concepts – function versus construction perspec- tive, black-box versus white box models, and subjectivity versus objectivity – are these three dualities of concepts really one-on-one?”
  • 17. Strengthening the Foundations Underlying the Enterprise Engineering Manifesto 3 As a first illustration, look at the work of a sluice operator. Without knowing his work instructions (white-box), we can observe his behavior (black-box) and compare that with expected behavior in parameters well known in product and reliability engi- neering, such as service times, delivery times, Mean Time Between Failure and error rates. Such Quality of Service (QoS) parameters can be expressed and also measured quite objectively – which is a regular practice in Service Level Management, and also the basis for Service Level Agreements (SLA’s). So there seems not necessarily to be a problem to define functions objectively. Comparable examples can be found in the Six Sigma, which uses black-box obser- vations to systematically search for statistical correlations – which could point to causality in (until now may be unknown) white boxes. Also here functional parame- ters are defined and measured objectively. Yet another example is given by Dietz [3], looking at the heart as a biological sys- tem. The heart has the function of pumping blood, i.e. transporting blood from loca- tion A to location B with a certain velocity range and a certain capacity for adapting to fluctuations in viscosity. This function can be expressed objectively and measura- bly. Dietz then continues to clearly distinguish between function and purpose, where “purpose is a relationship of a system with its stakeholder”. May be that is more a place where subjectivity could be expected, since the interests of me in my heart could well differ from those of the heart surgeon, or those of the poor colleague pa- tient waiting for a heart transplant. We want to approach this –rather conceptual– question with the strategy “valida- tion by instantiation”. To instantiate the three dualities of concepts in the next sec- tions, we will use the following adapted version of the classic Pizzeria example from [4], familiar to the EE community. Pizzeria Case. The Pizzeria is a business organization that provides pizza to its cus- tomers (1,000 pizzas of at least 95ºC a week with a Mean Time Between Failure of one month). Besides the customers, there are many stakeholders: the investors, the city who grants licenses in return for license fee and the employees working in the pizzeria. It is noteworthy that the customers belong to two distinct segments: regular end-customers and cafés located in luxurious terraces nearby, which complement the offer to their customers with excellent fresh pizza. In an earlier version of the Pizzeria organization, customers could just walk in and make their wishes known at the counter or could order by telephone. In both cases they had to take away the pizzas themselves. Later, an important new service was introduced: one could have the pizzas delivered to an address. Both means of pizza delivery to the customer co-exist today. Customers announce themselves at the counter of the pizzeria or make a telephone call. After making her selection from a menu, the customer is informed about the price and the expected time that the order will be ready. The order is then passed to the kitchen, where the baker prepares the pizzas. Once ready, the pizzas that make up an order are boxed. Depending on the delivery selec- tion, the boxes are then handed over to the customer against payment or delivered a customer-specified address by a transporter, whom also collects the money on behalf of the pizzeria.
  • 18. 4 M. Op ’t Land and J. Pombinho Fig. 1. Detailed Actor Transaction Diagram (according to DEMO) from the Pizzeria [3] 3 Analysis of the Dualities of Concepts First we will introduce the Enterprise Engineering concepts of system, model and Generic System Development Process (GSDP). Then we will present each duality and instantiate it with the Pizzeria example. 3.1 Base Theory: System, Model and GSDP System and Model. Dietz [3] defines something as a system if and only if it has: composition – a set of elements of some category (grey nodes in Fig. 2); environment – a set of elements of the same category, disjoint from the composition (white nodes); production – things produced by elements in the composition and delivered to the environment; structure – a set of influence bonds among the elements in the composi- tion, and between them and the elements in the environment (connections between white and grey nodes). Together, these properties are called the construction of a system. Fig. 2. The construction of a System [3] Apostel [5] defines the concept of model of a system is as a role as follows: “Any subject using a system A that is neither directly nor indirectly interacting with a system B, to obtain information about the system B, is using A as a model for B.”
  • 19. Another Random Document on Scribd Without Any Related Topics
  • 20. conversation with the gentleman inside, whose drowsiness seemed to have entirely forsaken him. “Old Swipes,” as he was irreverently called (a nickname of which, as of most military sobriquets, the origin had long been forgotten), was the senior captain of the regiment, one of those gallant fellows who fight their way up without purchase, serving in every climate under heaven, and invariably becoming grey of head long ere they lose the greenness and freshness of heart which in the Service alone outlive the cares and disappointments that wait on middle age. Now, Charlie had been sent to “Old Swipes” with dispatches from head-quarters. One of the general’s aides-de-camp was wounded, another sick, an extra already ordered on a particular service; and Charlie, with the dash and gallantry which had distinguished him from boyhood, volunteered to carry the important missives nearly a hundred miles through a country not a yard of which he knew, and threading whole hordes of the enemy with no arms but his sabre and pistols, no guide but a little unintelligible Hottentot. From the Kat River frontier to the defenceless portals of Fort Beaufort, the whole district was covered with swarms of predatory savages; and but that Fortune proverbially favours the brave, our young lancer might have found himself in a very unpleasant predicament. Fifty miles finished the lad’s charger, and he had accomplished the remainder of his journey walking and riding turn-about with his guide on the hardy little animal of the latter. No wonder our dismounted dragoon was weary—no wonder the rations of tough beef and muddy water which they gave him when he arrived elicited the compliment we have already mentioned to the good cheer of “The Fighting Light-Bobs,” as the regiment to which “Old Swipes” and his detachment belonged was affectionately nicknamed in the division. The great thing, however, was accomplished—wet, weary, and exhausted, Charlie and his guide arrived at their destination by daybreak of the second day. The young lancer delivered his dispatches to the officer in command, was received like a brother into a subaltern’s tent, already containing two inhabitants, and slept soundly through the day, till awakened at sunset by a strong
  • 21. appetite for supper, and the absolute necessity for slackening the tent-ropes recorded above. “Kettering, you must join our council of war,” said the cheery voice of the old captain from within; “there’s no man better entitled than yourself to know the contents of my dispatches. Come in, my boy; I can give you a pipe, if nothing else.” Charlie lifted the wet sailcloth and crept in—the conclave did not look so very uncomfortable after all. Certainly there was but little room, but no men pack so close as soldiers. The old captain was sitting cross-legged on a folded blanket in the centre, clad in a russet-coloured coat that had once been scarlet, with gold lace tarnished down to the splendour of rusty copper. A pair of regimental trousers, plentifully patched and strapped with leather, adorned his lower man, and on his head he wore a once-burnished shako, much gashed and damaged by a Kaffir’s assagai. He puffed forth volumes of smoke from a short black pipe, and appeared in the most exuberant spirits, notwithstanding the deficiencies of his exterior; the real proprietor of the tent, a swarthy, handsome fellow, with a lightning eye and huge black beard and whiskers, was leaning against the centre support of his domicile, in a blue frock-coat and buckskin trousers, looking very handsome and very like a gentleman (indeed, he is a peer’s younger son), though no “old clothes man” would have given him eighteenpence for the whole of his costume. He had hospitably vacated his seat on a battered portmanteau, “warranted solid leather,” with the maker’s name, in the Strand—it seemed so odd to see it there—and was likewise smoking furiously, as he listened to the orders of his commander. A small tin basin, a canister of tobacco, nearly finished, a silver hunting-flask—alas! quite empty—and a heap of cloaks, with an old blanket in the corner, completed the furniture of this warlike palace. It was very like Charlie’s own tent at head-quarters, save that his cavalry accoutrements gave an air of finish to that dwelling, of which he was justly proud. So he felt quite at home as he took his seat on the portmanteau and filled his pipe. “Just the orders I wanted,” said the
  • 22. old captain, between his whiffs; “we’ve been here long enough, and to-morrow we are to advance at daybreak. I am directed to move upon that ‘Kloof’ we have reconnoitred every day since we came, and after forming a junction with the Rifles, we are to get possession of the heights.” “The river will be out after this rain,” interrupted the handsome lieutenant; “but that’s no odds; our fellows can all swim—’gad, they want washing!” “Steady, my lad,” said the veteran, “we’ll have none of that; I’ve got a Fingo at the quarter-guard here that’ll take us over dry-shod. I’ve explained to him what I mean, and if he don’t understand it now he will to-morrow morning. A ‘Light-Bob’ on each side, with his arms sloped, directly the water comes in at the rent in these old boots,” holding up at the same time a much-damaged pair of Wellingtons, “down goes the Fingo, poor devil, and out go my skirmishers, till we reach the cattle-ford at Vandryburgh.” “I don’t think the beggar will throw us over,” replied the subaltern. “I suppose I’d better get them under arms before daybreak; the nights are infernally dark, though, in this beastly country, but my fellows all turn out smartest now when they’ve no light.” “Before daybreak, certainly,” replied “Old Swipes”; “no whist here, Kettering, to keep us up very late. Well,” he added, resuming his directions to his subaltern, “we’ll have the detachment under arms by four. Take Sergeant Macintosh and the best of the ‘flankers’ to form an advanced guard. Bid him make every yard of ground good, particularly where there’s bush; but on no account to fire unless he’s attacked. We’ll advance in column of sections—mind that—they’re handier that way for the ground; and Harry—where’s Harry?” “Here, sir!” said a voice, and a pale, sickly-looking boy, apparently about seventeen years of age, emerged from under the cloaks and blankets in the corner, where he had been lying half asleep, and thoroughly exhausted with the hardships of a life which it requires the constitution of manhood to undergo. Poor Harry! with what
  • 23. sickening eagerness his mother, the clergyman’s widow, grasps at the daily paper, when the African mail is due. How she shudders to see the great black capitals, with “Important News from the Cape!” What a hero his sisters think Harry! and how mamma alone turns pale at the very name of war, and prays for him night and morning on her knees till the pale face and wasted form of her darling stand betwixt her and her Maker. And Harry, too, thinks sometimes of his mother; but oh! how different is the child’s divided affection from the all-engrossing tenderness of the mother’s love! The boy is fond of “soldiering,” and his heart swells as “Old Swipes” gives him his orders in a paternal tone of kindness. “Harry, I shall entrust you with the rear-guard, and you must keep up your communications with the sergeant’s guard I shall leave here. He will probably be relieved by the Rifles, and you can then join us in the front. If they don’t show before twelve o’clock, fall back here; pack up the baggage, right- about-face, and join ‘the levies,’ they’re exactly five miles in our rear; if you’re in difficulties, ask Sergeant File what is best to be done, only don’t club ’em, my boy, as you did at Limerick.” “Well, sir,” said the handsome lieutenant, “we’ve all got our orders now, except Kettering; what are we to do with him?” “Give him some supper first,” replied the jolly commandant; “but how to get him back I don’t know; we’ve had a fine stud of oxen for the last ten days, but as for a horse, I have not seen one since I left Cape Town.” “We’re doing nothing at head-quarters, sir,” exclaimed Charlie, with flashing eyes; “will you allow me to join the attack to-morrow, with your people?” The three officers looked at him approvingly, and the ensign muttered, “By gad, he’s a trump, and no mistake!” but “Old Swipes” shook his grey head with a half-melancholy smile as he scanned the boy’s handsome face and shapely figure, set off by his blue lancer uniform, muddy and travel-stained as it was. “I’ve seen many a fine fellow go down,” thought the veteran, “and I like it less and less—
  • 24. this lad’s too good for the Kaffirs; d—n me, I shall never get used to it;” however, he did not quite know how to refuse so soldier-like a request, so he only coughed, and said, “Well—I don’t approve of volunteering—we old soldiers go where we’re ordered, but we never volunteer. Still, I suppose you won’t stay here, with fighting in the front. ’Gad, you shall go—you’re a real good one, and I like you for it.” So the fine old fellow seized Charlie’s hand and wrung it hard, with the tears in his eyes. And now our three friends prepared to make themselves comfortable. The old captain’s tent was the largest, but it was not water-tight, and consequently stood in a swamp. His supper, therefore, was added to the joint stock, and the four gentlemen who, at the best club in London, would have turned up their noses at turtle because it was thick, or champagne because it was sweet, sat down quite contentedly to half-raw lumps of stringy beef and a tin mug only half filled with the muddiest of water, glad to get even that. How they laughed and chatted and joked about their fare! To have heard them talk one would have supposed that they were at dinner within a day’s march of Pall Mall, London—the opera, the turf, the ring, each and all had their turn; and when the sergeant on duty came to report the “lights out,” said lights consisting of two lanterns for the whole detachment, Charlie had just proposed “fox-hunting” as a toast with which to finish the last sip of brandy, and treated his entertainers to a “view-holloa” in a whisper, that he might not alarm the camp, which, save for the lowing of certain oxen in the rear, was ere long hushed in the most profound repose. Now, these oxen were a constant source of confusion and annoyance to the “old captain” and his myrmidons, whose orderly, soldier-like habits were continually broken through by their perverse charge. Of all the contradictory, self-willed, hair-brained brutes on the face of the earth, commend us to an ox in Kaffirland. He is troublesome enough when first driven off by his black despoilers, but when recaptured by British troops he is worse than ever, as
  • 25. though he brought back with him, from his sojourn in the bush, some of the devilry of his temporary owners, and was determined to resent upon his preservers all the injuries he had undergone during his unwilling peregrinations. Fortunately, those now remaining with the detachment were but a small number, destined to become most execrable beef, large herds retaken from the savages having already been sent to the rear; but even this handful were perpetually running riot, breaking out of their “kraal” on the most causeless and imaginary alarms when in the camp, and on the march making a point of “knocking up” invariably at the most critical moment. Imagine the difficulties of a commander when, in addition to ground of which he knows comparatively nothing, of an enemy outnumbering him hundreds to one, lurking besides in an impenetrable bush, where he can neither be reached nor seen—of an extended line of operation in a country where the roads are either impassable or there are none at all—and, above all, of a trying climate, with a sad deficiency of water—he has to weaken his already small force by furnishing a cattle-guard, and to prepare himself for the contingency of some thousands of frantic animals breaking loose (which they assuredly will should his position be forced), and the inevitable confusion which must be the result of such an untoward liberation. The Kaffirs have a knack of driving these refractory brutes in a manner which seems unattainable to a white man. It is an interesting sight to watch a couple of tall, dark savages, almost naked, and with long staves in their hands, manœuvring several hundred head of cattle with apparently but little trouble. Even the Hottentots seem to have a certain mysterious influence over the horned troop; but for an English soldier, although goaded by his bayonet, they appear to entertain the most profound contempt. Charlie, however, cared little for ox or Kaffir; the lowing of the one no more disturbed him than the proximity of the other. Was he not at last in front of the enemy? Should he not to-morrow begin his career of glory? The boy felt his very life-blood thrill in his veins as the fighting propensity—the spirit of Cain, never quite dormant
  • 26. within us—rose to his heart. There he lay in a corner of the dark tent, dressed and ready for the morrow, with his sword and pistols at his head, covered with a blanket and a large cloak, his whereabout only discernible by the red glow from his last pipe before going to sleep; the handsome lieutenant was already wrapped in slumber and an enormous rough great-coat (not strictly regulation); the ensign was far away in dreamland; and Charlie had watched the light die out from their respective pipes with drowsy eyes, while the regular step of the sentry outside smote less and less distinctly on his ear. He had gone through two very severe days, and had not been in a bed for weeks. Gradually his limbs relaxed and tingled with delightful languor of rest after real fatigue. Once or twice he woke up with a start as Fancy played her usual tricks with the weary, then his head declined, his jaw dropped, the pipe fell to the ground, and Charlie was fast asleep. Far, far away on a mountain in Inverness the wild stag is belling to the distant corries, and snuffing the keen north air as he stamps ever and anon with lightning hoof that cuts the heather tendrils asunder and flings them on the breeze. Is he not the great master- hart of the parcel? and shall he not be circumvented and stretched on the moor ere the fading twilight darkens into night? Verily, he must be stalked warily, cautiously, for the wind has shifted and the lake is already ruffling into pointed, white-crested waves, rising as in anger, while their spray, hurried before the tempest, drifts in long- continuous wreaths athwart the surface. Fitful gusts, the pent-up sobs of rising fury, that must burst or be released, chase the filmy scud across that pale moon, which is but veiled and not obscured; while among the ferns and alders that skirt the water’s edge the wind moans and shrieks like an imprisoned demon wailing for his freedom. Mists are rising around the hazy forms of the deer; cold, chilling vapours through which the mighty stag looms like some gigantic phantom, and still he swells in defiance, and bells abroad
  • 27. his trumpet-note of war. Charlie’s finger is on the trigger; Uncle Baldwin, disguised as a Highlander, whispers in his ear the thrilling caution, “Take time!” The wind howls hideously, and phantom shapes, floating in the moonlight, mock and gibber and toss their long, lean arms, and wave their silver hair. No, the rifle is not cocked; that stubborn lock defies the force of human fingers—the mist is thickening and the stag moves. Charlie implores Uncle Baldwin to assist him, and drops upon his knees to cover the retiring quarry with his useless weapon. The phantoms gather round; their mist-wreaths turn to muslin dresses, and their silver hair to glossy locks of mortal hues. The roaring tempest softens to an old familiar strain. Mary Delaval is before him. Her pale, sweet face is bent upon the kneeling boy with looks of unutterable love, and her white hand passes over his brow with an almost imperceptible caress. Her face sinks gradually to his—her breath is on his temples—his lips cling to hers—and he starts with horror at the kiss of love, striking cold and clammy from a grinning skull! Horror! the rifleman, whose skeleton he shuddered to find beneath his horse’s feet not eight-and-forty hours ago! What does he here in the drawing-room at home? Home —yes, he is at home, at last. It must have been fancy—the recollections of his African campaign! They are all gone to bed. He hears the General’s well-known tramp dying away along the passage; and he takes his candle to cross the spacious hall, dark and gloomy in that flickering light. Ha! seated on the stairs as on a throne frowns a presence that he dare not pass. A tall, dark figure, in the shape of a man, yet with angel beauty—no angel form of good—glorious in the grandeur of despair—magnificent in the pomp and glare of hell—those lineaments awful in their very beauty—those deep, unfathomable eyes, with their eternity of suffering, defiance, remorse, all but repentance or submission! Could mortal look and not quail? Could man front and not be blasted at the sight? On his lofty forehead sits a diadem, and on the centre of his brow, burned in and scorched, as it were, to the very bone, behold the seal of the Destroyer—the single imprint of a finger.
  • 28. The boy stands paralysed with affright. The Principle of Evil waves him on and on, even to the very hem of his garment; but a prayer rises to the sleeper’s lips; with a convulsive effort he speaks it forth aloud, and the spell is broken. The mortal is engaged with a mortal enemy. Those waving robes turn to a leopard-skin kaross, the glorious figure to an athletic savage, and the immortal beauty to the grinning, chattering lineaments of a hideous Kaffir. Charlie bounds at him like a tiger—they fight—they close—and he is locked in the desperate embrace of life or death with his ghastly foe. Charlie is undermost! His enemy’s eyes are starting from their sockets—his white teeth glare with cannibal-like ferocity—and his hand is on the boy’s throat with a grip of iron. One fearful wrench to get free—one last superhuman effort of despair, and.... Charlie wakes in the struggle!—wakes to find it all a dream; and the cold air, the chilling harbinger of dawn, stealing into the tent to refresh and invigorate the half-suffocated sleepers. He felt little inclination to resume his slumbers; his position had been a sufficiently uncomfortable one— his head having slipped from the pistol-holsters on which it had rested, and the clasp of his cloak-fastening at the throat having well- nigh strangled him in his sleep. The handsome lieutenant’s matter- of-fact yawn on waking would have dispelled more horrid dreams than Charlie’s, and the real business of the coming day soon chased from his mind all recollections of his imaginary struggle. Breakfast was like the supper of the preceding night—half-raw beef, eaten cold, and a whiff from a short pipe. Ere Charlie had finished his ration, dark though it was, the men had fallen in; the advanced guard had started; Ensign Harry had received his final instructions, and “Old Swipes” gave the word of command in a low, guarded tone —“Slope arms! By your left—Quick march!” Day dawned on a spirit-stirring scene. With the swinging, easy step of those accustomed to long and toilsome marches the detachment moved rapidly forward, now lessening its front as it arrived at some narrow defile, now “marking time” to allow of its rear coming up, without effort, into the proper place. Bronzed, bold faces theirs, with the bluff, good-humoured air of the English soldier, who takes
  • 29. warfare as it comes, with an oath and a jest. Reckless of strategy as of hardship, he neither knows nor cares what his enemy may be about, nor what dispositions may be made by his own officers. If his flank be turned he fights on with equal unconcern, “it is no business of his”; if his ammunition be exhausted he betakes himself to the bayonet, and swears “the beggars may take their change out of that!” The advanced guard, led by the handsome subaltern, was several hundred paces in front. The Hottentots brought up the rear, and the “Fighting Light-Bobs,” commanded by their grey-headed captain, formed the column. With them marched Charlie, conspicuous in his blue lancer uniform, now respectfully addressing his superior officer, now jesting good-humouredly with his temporary comrades. The sun rose on a jovial, light-hearted company; when next his beams shall gild the same arid plains, the same twining mimosas, the same glorious landscape, shut in by the jagged peaks of the Anatola mountains, they will glance back from many a firelock lying ownerless on the sand; they will deepen the clammy hue of death on many a bold forehead; they will fail to warm many a gallant heart, cold and motionless for ever. But the men go on all the same, laughing and jesting merrily, as they “march at ease,” and beguile the way with mirth and song. “We’ll get a sup o’ brandy to-night, anyhow, won’t us, Bill?” says a weather-beaten “Light-Bob” to his front-rank man, a thirsty old soldier as was ever “confined to barracks.” “Ay,” replies Bill, “them black beggars has got plenty of lush—more’s the pity; and they doesn’t give none to their wives—more’s their sense. Ax your pardon, sir,” he adds, turning to Charlie, “but we shall advance right upon their centre, now, anyways, shan’t us?” Ere Charlie could reply he was interrupted by Bill’s comrade, who seemed to have rather a penchant for Kaffir ladies. “Likely young women they be, too, Bill, those niggers’ wives; why, every Kaffir has
  • 30. a dozen at least, and we’ve only three to a company; wouldn’t I like to be a Kaffir?” “Black!” replied Bill, in a tone of intense disgust. “What’s the odds?” urged the matrimonial champion, “a black wife’s a sight better than none at all;” and straightway he began to hum a military ditty, of which fate only permitted him to complete the first two stanzas:— “They’re sounding the charge for a brush, my boys! And we’ll carry their camp with a rush, my boys! When we’ve driven them out, I make no doubt We’ll find they’ve got plenty of lush, my boys! For the beggars delight To sit soaking all night, Black although they be. And when we get liquor so cheap, my boys! We’ll do nothing but guzzle and sleep, my boys! And sit on the grass with a Kaffir lass, Though smutty the wench as a sweep, my boys! For the Light Brigade Are the lads for a maid, Black although she may be.” “Come, stow that!” interrupted Bill, as the ping of a ball whistled over their heads, followed by the sharp report of a musket; “here’s music for your singing, and dancing too, faith,” he added, as the rear files of the advanced guard came running in; and “Old Swipes” exclaimed, “By Jove! they’re engaged. Attention! steady, men!— close up—close up”—and, throwing out a handful of skirmishers to clear the bush immediately in his front and support his advanced guard, he moved the column forward at “the double,” gained some rising ground, behind which he halted them, and himself ran on to reconnoitre. A sharp fire had by this time commenced on the right, and Charlie’s heart beat painfully whilst he remained inactive,
  • 31. covered by a position from which he could see nothing. It was not, however, for long. The “Light-Bobs” were speedily ordered to advance, and as they gained the crest of the hill a magnificent view of the conflict opened at once upon their eyes. The Rifles had been beforehand with them, and were already engaged; their dark forms, hurrying to and fro as they ran from covert to covert, were only to be distinguished from the savages by the rapidity with which their thin white lines of smoke emerged from bush and brake, and the regularity with which they forced position after position, compared with the tumultuous gestures and desultory movements of the enemy. Already the Kaffirs were forced across the ford of which we have spoken, and, though they mustered in great numbers on the opposite bank, swarming like bees along the rising ground, they appeared to waver in their manœuvres, and to be inclined to retire. A mounted officer gallops up, and says a few words to the grey-headed captain. The “Light-Bobs” are formed into column of sections, and plunge gallantly into the ford. Charlie’s right- hand man falls pierced by an assagai, and as his head declines beneath the bubbling water, and his blood mingles with the stream, our volunteer feels “the devil” rising rapidly to his heart. Charlie’s teeth are set tight, though he is scarce aware of his own sensations, and the boy is dangerous, with his pale face and flashing eyes. The “Light-Bobs” deploy into line on the opposite bank, covered by an effective fire from the Rifles, and advance as if they were on parade. “Old Swipes” feels his heart leap for joy. On they march like one man, and the dark masses of the enemy fly before them. “Well done, my lads!” says the old captain, as, from their flank, he marks the regularity of their movement. They are his very children now, and he is not thinking of the little blue-eyed girl far away at home. A belt of mimosas is in their front, and it must be carried with the bayonet! The “Light-Bobs” charge with a wild hurrah; and a withering volley, very creditable to the savages, well-nigh staggers them as they approach. “Old Swipes” runs forward, waving them on, his shako off, and his grey locks streaming in the breeze—down he
  • 32. goes! with a musket-ball crashing through his forehead. Charlie could yell with rage, and a fierce longing for blood. There is a calm, matronly woman tending flowers, some thousand miles off, in a small garden in the north of England, and a little girl sitting wistfully at her lessons by her mother’s side. They are a widow and an orphan—but the handsome lieutenant will get his promotion without purchase; death-vacancies invariably go in the regiment, and even now he takes the command. “Kettering,” says he, cool and composed, as if he were but giving orders at a common field-day, “take a sub-division and clear that ravine; when you are once across you can turn his flank. Forward, my lads! and if they’ve any nonsense give ’em the bayonet!” Charlie now finds himself actually in command—ay, and in something more than a skirmish—something that begins to look uncommonly like a general action. Waving the men on with his sword he dashes into the ravine, and in another instant is hand-to- hand with the enemy. What a moment of noise, smoke, and confusion it is! Crashing blows, fearful oaths, the Kaffir war-cry, and the soldiers’ death-groan mingle in the very discord of hell. A wounded Kaffir seizes Charlie by the legs, and a “Light-Bob” runs the savage through the body, the ghastly weapon flashing out between the Kaffir’s ribs. “You’ve got it now, you black beggar!” says the soldier, as he coolly wipes his dripping bayonet on a tuft of burnt-up grass. While yet he speaks he is writhing in his death-pang, his jaws transfixed by a quivering assagai. A Kaffir chief, of athletic frame and sinewy proportions, distinguished by the grotesque character of his arms and his tiger-skin kaross, springs at the young lancer like a wild-cat. The boy’s sword gleams through that dusky body even in mid-air. “Well done, blue ’un!” shout the men, and again there is a wild hurrah! The young one never felt like this before.
  • 33. Hand-to-hand the savages have been beaten from their defences, and they are in full retreat. One little band has forced the ravine, and gained the opposite bank. With a thrilling cheer they scale its rugged surface, Charlie waving his sword and leading them gallantly on. The old privates swear he is a good ’un. “Forward, lads! Hurrah! for blue ’un!” The boy has all but reached the brink; his hand is stretched to grasp a bush that overhangs the steep, but his step totters, his limbs collapse—down, down he goes, rolling over and over amongst the brushwood, and the blue lancer uniform lies a tumbled heap at the bottom of the ravine, whilst the cheer of the pursuing “Light-Bobs” dies fainter and fainter on the sultry air as the chase rolls farther and farther into the desert fastnesses of Kaffirland.
  • 34. CHAPTER XII CAMPAIGNING AT HOME THE SOLDIER IN PEACE—THE LION AND THE LAMB—“THE GIRLS WE LEAVE BEHIND US”—A PLAIN QUESTION—THE STRONG MAN’S STRUGGLE—FATHERLY KINDNESS—THE “PEACE AND PLENTY”—A LADY-KILLER’S PROJECTS—WAKING THOUGHTS In a neat, well-appointed barouche, with clever, high-stepping brown horses and everything complete, a party of three well-dressed persons are gliding easily out of town, sniffing by anticipation the breezes of the country, and greeting every morsel of verdure with a rapture only known to those who have been for several weeks in London. Past the barracks at Knightsbridge, where the windows are occupied by a race of giants in moustaches and shirt-sleeves, and the officers in front of their quarters are educating a poodle; past the gate at Kensington, with its smartest of light-dragoon sentries, and the gardens with their fine old trees disguised in soot; past dead walls overtopped with waving branches; on through a continuous line of streets that will apparently reach to Bath; past public-houses innumerable, and grocery-shops without end; past Hammersmith, with its multiplicity of academies, and Turnham Green, and Chiswick, and suburban terraces with almost fabulous names, and detached houses with the scaffolding still up; past market-gardens and rosaries, till Brentford is reached, where the disappointed traveller, pining for the country, almost deems himself transported back again east of Temple Bar. But Brentford is soon left behind, and a glimpse of the “silver Thames” rejoices eyes that have been aching for something farther afield than the Serpentine, and prepares them for the unbounded views and free, fresh landscape afforded by Hounslow Heath. “This is really the country,” says Blanche, inhaling
  • 35. the pure air with a sigh of positive delight, while the General exclaims, at the same instant, with his accustomed vigour, “Zounds! the blockhead’s missed the turn to the barracks, after all.” The ladies are very smart; and even Mary Delaval (the third occupant of the carriage), albeit quieter and more dignified than ever, has dressed in gaudier plumage than is her wont, as is the practice of her sex when they are about to attend what they are pleased to term “a breakfast.” As for Blanche, she is too charming— such a little, gossamer bonnet stuck at the very back of that glossy little head, so that the beholder knows not whether to be most fascinated by the ethereal beauty of the fabric, or wonder-struck at the dexterity with which it is kept on. Then the dresses of the pair are like the hues of the morning, though of their texture, as of their “trimmings,” it becomes us not to hazard an opinion. Talk of beauty unadorned, and all that! Take the handsomest figure that ever inspired a statuary—dress her, or rather undress her to the costume of the Three Graces, or the Nine Muses, or any of those dowdies immortalised by ancient art, and place her alongside of a moderately good-looking Frenchwoman, with dark eyes and small feet, who has been permitted to dress herself: why, the one is a mere corporeal mass of shapely humanity, the other a sparkling emanation of light and smiles and “tulle” (or whatever they call it) and coquetry and all that is most irresistible. Blanche and Mary, with the assistance of good taste and good milliners, were almost perfect types of their different styles of feminine beauty. The General, too, was wondrously attired. Retaining the predilections of his youth, he shone in a variety of under-waistcoats, each more gorgeous than its predecessor, surmounting the whole by a blue coat of unexampled brilliancy and peculiar construction. Like most men who are not in the habit of “getting themselves up” every day, he was always irritable when thus clothed in “his best,” and was now peculiarly fidgety as to the right turn by which his carriage should reach the barracks where the “Loyal Hussars,” under the temporary command of Major D’Orville, were about to give a breakfast of unspeakable splendour and hospitality.
  • 36. “That way—no—the other way, you blockhead!—straight on, and short to the right!” vociferated the General to his bewildered coachman, as they drew up at the barrack-gate; and Blanche timidly suggested they should ask “that officer,” alluding to a dashing, handsome individual guarding the entrance from behind an enormous pair of dark moustaches. “That’s only the sentry, Blanche,” remarked Mary Delaval, whose early military experience made her more at home here than her companion. “Dear,” replied Blanche, colouring a little at her mistake, “I thought he was a captain, at least—he’s very good-looking.” But the barouche rolls on to the mess-room door, and although the ladies are somewhat disappointed to find their entertainers in plain clothes (a woman’s idea of a hussar being that he should live and die en grande tenue), yet the said plain clothes are so well put on, and the moustaches and whiskers so carefully arranged, and the fair ones themselves received with such empressement, as to make full amends for any deficiency of warlike costume. Besides, the surrounding atmosphere is so thoroughly military. A rough-rider is bringing a young horse from the school; a trumpet is sounding in the barrack-yard; troopers lounging about in picturesque undress are sedulously saluting their officers; all is suggestive of the show and glitter which makes a soldier’s life so fascinating to woman. Major D’Orville is ready to hand them out of the carriage. Lacquers is stationed on the door steps. Captain Clank and Cornet Capon are in attendance to receive their cloaks. Even Sir Ascot Uppercrust, who is here as a guest, lays aside his usual nonchalance, and actually “hopes Miss Kettering didn’t catch cold yesterday getting home from Chiswick.” Clank whispers to Capon that he thinks “Uppy is making strong running”; and Capon strokes his nascent moustaches, and oracularly replies, “The divil doubt him.”
  • 37. No wonder ladies like a military entertainment. It certainly is the fashion among soldiers, as among their seafaring brethren, to profess far greater devotion and exhibit more empressement in their manner to the fair sex than is customary in this age with civilians. The latter, more particularly that maligned class, “the young men of the present day,” are not prone to put themselves much out of their way for any one, and treat you, fair daughters of England, with a mixture of patronage and carelessness which is far from complimentary. How different you find it when you visit a barrack or are shown over a man-of-war! Respectful deference waits on your every expression, admiring eyes watch your charming movements, and stalwart arms are proffered to assist your delicate steps. Handsome, sunburnt countenances explain to you how the biscuit is served out; or moustaches of incalculable volume wait your answer as to “what polka you choose their band to perform.” You make conquests all around you, and wherever you go your foot is on their necks; but do not for this think that your image never can be effaced from these warlike hearts. A good many of them, even the best- looking ones, have got wives and children at home; and the others, unencumbered though they be, save by their debts, are apt to entertain highly anti-matrimonial sentiments, and to frame their conduct on sundry aphorisms of a very faithless tendency, purporting that “blue water is a certain cure for heart-ache”; that judicious hussars are entitled “to love and to ride away”; with other maxims of a like inconstant nature. Nay, in both services there is a favourite air of inspiriting melody, the burden and title of which, monstrous as it may appear, are these unfeeling words, “The girls we leave behind us!” It is always played on marching out of a town. But however ill our “captain bold” of the present day may behave to “the girl he leaves behind him,” the lady in his front has small cause to complain of remissness or inattention. The mess-room at Hounslow is fitted up with an especial view to the approbation of the fair sex. The band outside ravishes their ears with its enchanting harmony; the officers and male guests dispose themselves in groups
  • 38. with those whose society they most affect; and Blanche finds herself the centre of attraction to sundry dashing warriors, not one of whom would hesitate for an instant to abandon his visions of military distinction, and link himself, his debts, and his moustaches, to the fortunes of the pretty heiress. Now, Sir Ascot Uppercrust has resolved this day to do or die—“to be a man or a mouse,” as he calls it. Of this young gentleman we have as yet said but little, inasmuch as he is one of that modern school which, abounding in specimens through the higher ranks of society, is best described by a series of negatives. He was not good-looking —he was not clever—he was not well-educated; but, on the other hand, he was not to be intimidated—not to be excited—and not to be taken in. Coolness of mind and body were his principal characteristics; no one ever saw “Uppy” in a hurry, or a dilemma, or what is called “taken aback”; he would have gone into the ring and laid the odds to an archbishop without a vestige of astonishment, and with a carelessness of demeanour bordering upon contempt; or he would have addressed the House of Commons, had he thought fit to honour that formidable assemblage by his presence, with an equanimity and insouciance but little removed from impertinence. A quaint boy at Eton, cool hand at Oxford, a deep card in the regiment, man or woman never yet had the best of “Uppy”; but to- day he felt, for once, nervous and dispirited, and wished “the thing was over,” and settled one way or the other. He was an only son, and not used to be contradicted. His mother had confided to him her own opinion of his attractions, and striven hard to persuade her darling that he had but to see and conquer; nevertheless, the young gentleman was not at all sanguine of success. Accustomed to view things with an impartial and by no means a charitable eye, he formed a dispassionate idea of his own attractions, and extended no more indulgence to himself than to his friends. “Plain, but neat,” he soliloquised that very morning, as he thought over his proceedings whilst dressing; “not much of a talker, but a devil to think—good position—certain rank—she’ll be a lady, though rather a Brummagem one—house in Lowndes Street—place in the West—family diamonds
  • 39. —and a fairish rent-roll (when the mortgages are paid)—that’s what she would get. Now, what should I get? Nice girl—’gad, she is a nice girl, with her ‘sun-bright hair’ as some fellow says—good temper— good action—and three hundred thousand pounds. The exchange is rather in my favour; but then all girls want to be married, and that squares it, perhaps. If she says ‘Yes,’ sell out—give up hunting— drive her about in a phaeton, and buy a yacht. If she says ‘No,’ get second leave—go to Melton in November—and hang on with the regiment, which ain’t a bad sort of life, after all. So it’s hedged both ways. Six to one and half-a-dozen to the other. Very well; to-day we’ll settle it.” With these sentiments it is needless to remark that Sir Ascot was none of your sighing, despairing, fire-eating adorers, whose violence frightens a woman into a not unwilling consent; but a cautious, quiet lover, on whom perhaps a civil refusal might be the greatest favour she could confer. Nevertheless, he liked Blanche, too, in his own way. Well, the band played, and the luncheon was discussed, and the room was cleared for an impromptu dance (meditated for a fortnight); and some waltzed, and some flirted, and some walked about and peeped into the troop-stables and inspected the riding- school, and Blanche found herself, rather to her surprise, walking tête-à-tête with Sir Ascot from the latter dusty emporium, lingering a little behind the rest of the party, and separated altogether from the General and Mary Delaval. Sir Ascot having skilfully detached Lacquers, by informing him that he had made a fatal impression on Miss Spanker, who was searching everywhere for the credulous hussar; and having thus possessed himself of Blanche’s ear, now stopped dead-short, looked the astonished girl full in the face, and without moving a muscle of his own countenance, carelessly remarked, “Miss Kettering, would you like to marry me?” Blanche thought he was joking, and although it struck her as an ill-timed piece of pleasantry, she strove to keep up the jest, and replied, with
  • 40. a laugh and low curtsey, “Sir Ascot Uppercrust, you do me too much honour.” “No, but will you, Miss Kettering?” said Sir Ascot, getting quite warm (for him). “Plain fellow—do what I can—make you happy—and all that.”
  • 41. “‘Sir Ascot Uppercrust, you do me too much honour.’” Page 182 Poor Blanche blushed crimson up to her eyes. Good heavens! then the man was in earnest after all! What had she done—she, the pet of “Cousin Charlie,” and the protégée of Frank Hardingstone—that such a creature as this should presume to ask her such a question? She hesitated—felt very angry—half inclined to laugh and half inclined to cry; and Sir Ascot went on, “Silence gives consent, Miss Kettering—’pon my soul, I’m immensely flattered—can’t express what I feel—no poet, and that sort of thing—but I really am—eh!— very—eh!” It was getting too absurd; if she did not take some decisive step, here was a dandy quite prepared to affiance her against her will, and what to say or how to say it, poor little Blanche, who was totally unused to this sort of thing, and tormented, moreover, with an invincible desire to laugh, knew no more than the man in the moon. “You misunderstand, Sir Ascot,” at last she stammered out; “I didn’t mean—that is—I meant, or rather I intended—to—to—to—decline— or, I should say—in short, I couldn’t for the world!” With which unequivocal declaration Blanche blushed once more up to her eyes, and to her inexpressible relief, put her arm within Major D’Orville’s, that officer coming up opportunely at that moment; and seeing the girl’s obvious confusion and annoyance, extricating her, as he seemed always to do, from her unpleasant dilemma and her matter- of-fact swain. And this was Blanche’s first proposal. Nothing so alarming in it, young ladies, after all. We fear you may be disappointed at the blunt manner in which so momentous a question can be put. Here was no language of flowers—no giving of roses and receiving of carnations —no hoarding of locks of hair, or secreting of bracelets, or kidnapping of gloves—none of the petty larceny of courtship—none
  • 42. of the dubious, half-expressed, sentimental flummery which may signify all that mortal heart can bestow, or may be the mere coquetry of conventional gallantry. When he comes to the point, let us hope his meaning may be equally plain, whether it is couched in a wish that he might “be always helping you over stiles,” or a request that you will “give him a right to walk with you by moonlight without being scolded by mamma,” or an inquiry as to whether you “can live in the country, and only come to London for three months during the season,” or any other roundabout method of asking a straightforward question. Let us hope, moreover, that the applicant may be the right one, and that you may experience, to the extent of actual impossibility, the proverbial difficulty of saying—No. Now, it fell out that Major D’Orville arrived in the nick of time to save Blanche from further embarrassment, in consequence of his inability, in common with the rest of his fellow-creatures, “to know his own mind.” The Major had got up the fête entirely, as he imagined, with the idea of prosecuting his views against the heiress, and hardly allowed to himself that, in his innermost soul, there lurked a hope that Mrs. Delaval might accompany her former charge, and he might see her just once more. Had D’Orville been thoroughly bad, he would have been a successful man; as it was, there gleamed ever and anon upon his worldly heart a ray of that higher nature, that nobler instinct, which spoils the villain, while it makes the hero. Mary had pierced the coat-of-mail in which the roué was encased; probably her very indifference was her most fatal weapon. D’Orville really loved her—yes, though he despised himself for the weakness (since weakness it is deemed in creeds such as his), though he would grind his teeth and stamp his foot in solitude, while he muttered, “Fool! fool! to bow down before a woman!” yet the spell was on him, and the chain was eating into his heart. In the watches of the night her image sank into his brain and tortured him with its calm, indifferent smile. In his dreams she bent over him, and her drooping hair swept across his forehead, till the strong man woke, and yearned like a child for a fellow-mortal’s love. But not for him the childlike trust that can repose on human affection. Gaston had
  • 43. eaten of the tree of knowledge, the knowledge of good and evil; much did the evil predominate over the good, and still the galling thought goaded him almost to madness. “Suppose I should gain this woman’s affections—suppose I should sacrifice my every hope to that sweet face, and find her, after all, like the rest of them! Suppose I, too, should weary, as I have wearied before of faces well-nigh as fair—hearts even far more kind—is there no green branch on earth? Am I to wander for ever seeking rest and finding none? Am I to be cursed, like a lost spirit, with longings for that happiness which my very nature will not permit me to enjoy? Oh that I were wholly good, or wholly bad! that I could loathe the false excitement and the dazzling charms of vice, or steep my better feelings in the petrifying waters of perdition! I will conquer my weakness. What should I care for this stone-cold governess? I will be free, and this Mrs. Delaval shall discover that I too can be as careless, and as faithless, and as hard-hearted as—a woman!” With which laudable and manly resolution our dashing Major proceeded to make the agreeable to his guests, and to lose no opportunity of exchanging glances and mixing in conversation with the very lady he had sworn so stoutly to avoid. But with all his tactics, all his military proficiency in manœuvring, he found it impossible to detach Mary from her party, or to engage her in a tête-à-tête with himself. True-hearted and dignified, with her pure affection fixed upon another, she was not a person to descend to coquetry for the mere pleasure of a conquest, and she clung to the General for the purpose of avoiding the Major, till old Bounce became convinced that she was to add another name to the list of victims who had already succumbed before his many fascinations. The idea had been some time nascent in his mind, and as it now grew and spread, and developed itself into a certainty, his old heart warmed with a thrill he had not felt since the reign of the widow at Cheltenham, and he made the agreeable in his own way by pointing out to Mary all the peculiarities and arrangements of a barrack-yard, interspersed with many abrupt exclamations and voluminous personal anecdotes. Major D’Orville hovered round them the while, and perhaps the very difficulty of addressing his former love enhanced the charm of her presence and the fascination against
  • 44. which he struggled. It is amusing to see a thorough man of the world, one accustomed to conquer and enslave where he is himself indifferent, awkward as the veriest schoolboy, timid and hesitating as a girl, where he is really touched—though woman— “Born to be controlled, Stoop to the forward and the bold.” She thereby gauges with a false measure the devotion for which she pines. Would she know her real power, would she learn where she is truly loved, let her take note of the averted eye, the haunting step, ever hovering near, seldom daring to approach, the commonplace remark that shrinks from the one cherished topic, and above all the quivering voice, which, steady and commanding to the world beside, fails only when it speaks to her. Mary Delaval might have noted this had her heart not been in Kaffirland, or had the General allowed her leisure to attend to anything but himself. “Look ye, my dear Mrs. Delaval, our stables in India were ventilated quite differently. Climate? how d’ye mean? climate makes no difference—why, I’ve had the Kedjerees picketed in thousands round my tent. What? D’Orville, you’ve been on the Sutlej—’gad, sir, your fellows would have been astonished if I’d dropped among you there.” “And justly so,” quietly remarked the Major; “if I remember right, you were in cantonments more than three thousand miles off.” “Well, at any rate, I taught those black fellows how to look after their nags,” replied the General. “I left them the best-mounted corps in the Presidency, and six weeks after my back was turned they weren’t worth a row of pins. Zounds, don’t tell me! jobbing—jobbing —nothing but jobbing! What? No sore backs whilst I commanded them—at least among the horses,” added our disciplinarian, reflectively; “can’t say as much with regard to the men. But there is nothing like a big stick for a nigger—so let’s go and see the riding- school.”
  • 45. “I have still got the grey charger, Mrs. Delaval,” interposed the Major, wishing old Bounce and his Kedjerees in a hotter climate than India; “poor fellow, he’s quite white now, but as great a favourite still as he was in ‘the merry days,’” and the Major’s voice shook a little. “Would you like to see him?” Mary understood the allusion, but her calm affirmative was as indifferent as ever, and the trio were proceeding to the Major’s stables, that officer going on before to find his groom, when he met Blanche, as we have already said, and divining intuitively what had taken place by her flushed countenance and embarrassed manner, offered his arm to conduct her back to her party, thereby earning her eternal gratitude, no less than that of Sir Ascot, who, as he afterwards confided to an intimate friend, “was completely in the hole, and didn’t the least know what the devil to do next.” And now D’Orville practically demonstrated the advantage in the game of flirtation possessed by an untouched heart. With the governess he had been diffident, hesitating, almost awkward; with the pupil he was eloquent and winning as usual. His good taste told him it would be absurd to ignore Blanche’s obvious trepidation, and his knowledge of the sex taught him that the “soothing system,” with a mixture of lover-like respect and paternal kindness, might produce important results. So he begged Blanche to lean on his arm and compose her nerves, and talked kindly to her in his soft, deep voice. “I can see you have been annoyed, Miss Kettering—you know the interest I take in you, and I trust you will not consider me presumptuous in wishing to extricate you from further embarrassment. I am an old fellow now,” and the Major smiled his own winning smile, “and therefore a fit chaperon for young ladies. I have nobody to care for” (D’Orville, D’Orville! you would shoot a man who called you a liar), “and I have watched you as if you were a sister or a child of my own. Pray do not tell me more than if I can be of any service to you; and if I can, my dear Miss Kettering, command me to the utmost extent of my powers!” What could Blanche do but thank him warmly? and who shall blame the girl for
  • 46. feeling gratified by the interest of such a man, or for entertaining a vague sort of satisfaction that after all she was neither his sister nor his daughter. Had he been ten years older she would have thrown her arms round his neck, and kissed him in childlike confidence; as it was, she pressed closer to his side, and felt her heart warm to the kind, considerate protector. The Major saw his advantage, and proceeded—“I am alone in the world, you know, and seldom have an opportunity of doing any one a kindness. We soldiers lead a sadly unsatisfactory, desultory sort of life. Till you ‘came out’ this year, I had no one to care for, no one to interest myself about; but since I have seen you every day, and watched you enjoying yourself, and admired and sought after, I have felt like a different man. I have a great deal to thank you for, Miss Kettering; I was rapidly growing into a selfish, heartless old gentleman, but you have renewed my youthful feelings and freshened up my better nature, till I sometimes think I am almost happy. How can I repay you but by watching over your career, and should you ever require it, placing my whole existence at your disposal? It would break my heart to see you thrown away—no; believe me, Miss Kettering, you have no truer friend than myself, none that admires or loves you better than your old chaperon;” and as the Major spoke he looked so kindly and sincerely into the girl’s face, that albeit his language might bear the interpretation of actual love, and was, as Hairblower would have said, “uncommon near the wind,” it seemed the most natural thing in the world under the circumstances, and Blanche leaned on his arm, and talked and laughed, and told him to get the carriage, and otherwise ordered him about with a strangely-mixed feeling of childlike confidence and gratified vanity. The party broke up at an early hour, many of them having dinner-engagements in London; and as D’Orville handed Blanche into her carriage, he felt that he had to-day made a prodigious stride towards the great object in view. He had gained the girl’s confidence, no injudicious movement towards gaining her heart and her fortune. He pressed her hand as she wished him good-bye; and while he did so, shuddered at the consciousness of his meanness. Too well he knew he loved another —a word, a look from Mary Delaval, would have saved him even
  • 47. now; but her farewell was cold and short as common courtesy would admit of, and he ground his teeth as he thought those feet would spurn him, at which he would give his very life to fall. The worst passions of his nature were aroused. He swore, some day, to humble that proud heart in the dust, but the first step at all events must be to win the heiress. This morning he could have given up all for Mary, but now he was himself again, and the Major walked moodily back to barracks, a wiser (as the world would opine), but certainly not a better man. Care, however, although, as Horace tells us, “she sits behind the horseman,” is a guest whose visits are but little encouraged by the light dragoon. Our gallant hussars were not inclined to mope down at Hounslow after their guests had returned to town, and the last carriage had scarcely driven off with its fair freight, ere phaeton, buggy, riding-horse, and curricle were put in requisition, to take their military owners back to the metropolis; that victim of discipline, the orderly officer, being alone left to console himself in his solitude, as he best might, with his own reflections and the society of a water- spaniel. To-morrow morning they must be again on the road, to reach head-quarters in time for parade; but to-morrow morning is a long way off from gentlemen who live every hour of their lives; so away they go, each on his own devices, but one and all resolved to make the most of the present, and glitter, whilst they may, in the sunshine of their too brief noon. St. George’s clock tolls one, and Blanche has been asleep for hours in her quiet room at the back of the house in Grosvenor Square. Pure thoughts and pleasant dreams have hovered round the young girl’s pillow, and the last image present to her eyes has been the kind, handsome face of Major D’Orville—the hero who, commanding to all besides, is so gentle, so considerate, so tender with her alone. “Perhaps,” thought she, as the midnight rain beat against her
  • 48. window-panes, “he is even now going his bleak rounds at Hounslow” (Blanche had a vague idea that the hussars spent the night in patrolling the heath), “wrapped in his cloak, on that dear white horse, very likely thinking of me. How such a man is thrown away, with his kindly feelings, and his noble mind, and his courageous heart. ‘Nobody to care for,’ he said; ‘alone in the world’;” and little Blanche sighed a sigh of that pity which is akin to a softer feeling, and experienced for an instant that startling throb with which love knocks at the door, like some unwelcome visitor, ere habit has emboldened him to walk up-stairs, unbidden, and make himself at home. Let us see how right the maiden was in her conjectures, and follow the Major through his bleak rounds, and his night of military hardships. As we perambulate London at our loitering leisure, and stare about us in the desultory, wandering manner of those who have nothing to do, now admiring an edifice, now peeping into a print-shop, we are often brought up, “all standing,” in one of the great thoroughfares, by the magnificent proportions, the architectural splendour, of a building which our peaceful calling debars us from entering. Nevertheless we may gaze and gape at the stately outside; we may admire the lofty windows, with their florid ornaments, and marvel for what purpose are intended the upper casements, which seem to us like the bull’s-eyes let into the deck of a three-decker, magnified to a gigantic uselessness; we may stare till the nape of our neck warns us to desist, at the classic ornaments raised in high relief around the roof, where strange mythological devices, unknown to Lemprière, mystify alike the antiquarian and the naturalist,—centaurs, terminating in salmon-trout, career around the cornices, more grotesque than the mermaid, more inexplicable than the sphinx. In vain we cudgel our brains to ask of what faith, what principle these monsters may be the symbols. Can they represent the insignia of that corps so strangely omitted in the Army List—known to a grateful country as the horse marines? Are they a glorious emanation of
  • 49. modern art? or are they, as the Irish gentleman suggested of our martello towers, only intended to puzzle posterity? Splendid, however, as may be the outward magnificence of this military palace, it is nothing compared with the luxury that reigns within, and the heroes of both services enjoy a delightful contrast to the hardships of war, in the spacious saloons and exquisite repasts provided for its members by the “Peace and Plenty Club.” “Waiter—two large cigars and another sherry-cobbler,” lisps a voice which, although somewhat thicker than usual, we have no difficulty in recognising as the property of Captain Lacquers. That officer has dined “severely,” as he calls it, and is slightly inebriated. He is reclining on three chairs, in a large, lofty apartment, devoid of furniture, and surrounded by ottomans. From its airy situation, general appearance, and pervading odour, we have no difficulty in identifying it as the smoking-room of the establishment. At our friend’s elbow stands a small table, with empty glasses, and opposite him, with his heels above the level of his head, and a cigar of “sesquipedalian” length in his mouth, sits Sir Ascot Uppercrust. Gaston D’Orville is by his side, veiling his handsome face in clouds of smoke, and they are all three talking about the heiress. Yes; these are the Major’s rounds, these are the hardships innocent Blanche sighed to think of. It is lucky that ladies can neither hear nor see us in our masculine retreats. “So she refused you, Uppy; refused you point blank, did she? ’Gad, I like her for it,” said Lacquers, the romance of whose disposition was much enhanced by his potations. “Deuced impertinent, I call it,” replied the repulsed; “won’t have such a chance again. After all, she’s not half a nice girl.” “Don’t say that,” vociferated Lacquers, “don’t say that. She’s perfect, my dear boy; she’s enchanting—she’s got mind, and that—what’s a woman without intellect?—without the what-d’ye-call-it spark?—a—a —you recollect the quotation.”
  • 50. “A pudding without plums,” said Sir Ascot, who was a bit of a wag in a quiet way; and “A fiddle without strings,” suggested the Major at the same moment. “Exactly,” replied Lacquers, quite satisfied; “well, my dear fellow, I’m a man that adores all that sort of thing. ’Gad, I can’t do without talent, and music, and so on. Do I ever miss an opera? Didn’t I half ruin myself for Pastorelli, because she could dance? Now, I’ll tell you what”—and the speaker, lighting a fresh cigar, forgot what he was going to say. “Then you’re rather smitten with Miss Kettering, too,” observed D’Orville, who, as usual, was determined not to throw a chance away. “I thought a man of your many successes was blasé with that sort of thing;” and the Major smiled at Sir Ascot, whilst Lacquers went off again at score. “To be sure, I’ve gone very deep into the thing, old fellow, as you know; and I think I understand women. You may depend upon it they like a fellow with brains. But I ought to settle; I ‘flushed’ a grey hair yesterday in my whiskers, and this is just the girl to suit. It’s not her money I care for; I’ve got plenty—at least I can get plenty at seven per cent. No, it is her intellect, and her refusing Uppy, that I like. What did you say, my boy? how did you begin?” he added, thinking he might as well get a hint. “Did you tip her any poetry? Tommy Moore, and that other fellow, little What’s-his-name?” Lacquers was beginning to speak very thick, and did not wait for an answer. “I’ll show you how to settle these matters to-morrow after parade. First I’ll go to——Who’s that fellow just come in? ’Gad, it’s Clank—good fellow, Clank. I say, Clank, will you come to my wedding? Recollect I asked you to-night; be very particular about the date. Let me see; to-morrow’s the second Sunday after Ascot. I’ll lay any man three to two the match comes off before Goodwood.” D’Orville smiles calmly. He hears the woman whom he intends to make his wife talked of thus lightly, yet no feeling of bitterness rises in his mind against the drunken dandy. Would he not resent such
  • 51. mention of another name? But his finances will not admit of such a chance as the present wager being neglected; so he draws out his betting-book, and turning over its well-filled leaves for a clear place, quietly observes, “I’ll take it—three to two, what in?” “Pounds, ponies, or hundreds,” vociferates Lacquers, now decidedly uproarious; “thousands if you like. Fortune favours the brave. Vogue la thingumbob! Waiter! brandy-and-water! Clank, you’re a trump: shake hands, Clank. We won’t go home till morning. Yonder he goes: tally-ho!” And while the Major, who is a man of conscience, satisfies himself with betting his friend’s bet in hundreds, Lacquers vainly endeavours to make a corresponding memorandum; and finding his fingers refuse their office, gives himself up to his fate, and with an abortive attempt to embrace the astonished Clank, subsides into a sitting posture on the floor. The rest adjourn to whist in the drawing-room; and Gaston D’Orville concludes his rounds by losing three hundred to Sir Ascot; “Uppy” congratulating himself on not having made such a bad day’s work after all. As the Major walks home to his lodgings in the first pure flush of the summer’s morning, how he loathes that man whose fresh unsullied boyhood he remembers so well. What is he now? Nothing to rest on; nothing to hope for—loving one—deceiving another. If he gain his object, what is it but a bitter perjury? Gambler—traitor—profligate— turn which way he will, there is nothing but ruin, misery, and sin.
  • 52. CHAPTER XIII THE WORLD SELLING THE COPYRIGHT—THE POLITICIAN’S DAY-DREAMS— TATTERSALL’S AT FLOOD—A DANDY’S DESTINY “Can’t do it, my lord—your lordship must consider—overwritten yourself sadly of late—your ‘Broadsides from the Baltic’ were excellent—telling, clever, and eloquent; but you’ll excuse me—you were incorrect in your statistics and mistaken in your facts. Then your last novel, ‘Captain Flash; or, the Modern Grandison,’ was a dead loss to us—lively work—well reviewed—but it didn’t sell. In these days people don’t care to go behind the scenes for a peep at aristocratic ruffians and chivalrous black-legs—no, what we want is something original—hot and strong, my lord, and lots of nature. Now, these translations”—and the publisher, for a publisher it was who spoke, waved his sword of office, a huge ivory paper-cutter, towards a bundle of manuscripts—“these translations from the ‘Medea’ are admirably done—elegant language—profound scholarship—great merit—but the public won’t look at them; and even with your lordship’s name to help them off, we cannot say more than three hundred—in point of fact, I think we are hardly justified in going as far as that;” and the publisher crossed his legs and sat back in his arm-chair, like a man who had made up his mind. We have almost lost sight of Lord Mount Helicon since the Guyville ball, but he now turns up, attending to business, as he calls it, and is sitting in Mr. Bracketts’ back-room, driving as hard a bargain as he can for the barter of his intellectual produce, and conducting the sale in his usual careless, good-humoured manner, although he has a bill coming due to-morrow, and ready money is a most important consideration. The little back-room is perfectly lined with
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