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Excerpt

Excerpt from A. W. Kinglake: A Biographical and Literary Study, by William Tuckwell

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Kinglake used to regret the disuse of duelling, as having impaired the
higher tone of good breeding current in his younger days, and even blamed
the Duke of Wellington for proscribing it in the army. He had himself on
one occasion sent a cartel, and stood waiting for his adversary, like Sir
Richard Strachan at Walcheren, eight days on the French coast; but the
adversary never came. Hayward once referred to him, as a counsellor, and
if necessary a second, a quarrel with Lord R—. Lord R—’s friend called
on him, a Norfolk squire, “broad-faced and breathing port wine,” after
the fashion of uncle Phillips in “Pride and Prejudice,” who began in a
boisterous voice, “I am one of those, Mr. Kinglake, who believe R— to be
a gentleman.” In his iciest tones and stoniest manner Kinglake answered:
“That, Sir, I am quite willing to assume.” The effect, he used to say,
as he told and acted the scene, was magical; “I had frozen him sober, and
we settled everything without a fight.” Of all his friends Hayward was
probably the closest; an association of discrepancies in character,
manner, temperament, not complementary, but opposed and hostile;
irreconcilable, one would say, but for the knowledge that in love and
friendship paradox reigns supreme. Hayward was arrogant, overbearing,
loud, insistent, full of strange oaths and often unpardonably coarse;
“our dominant friend,” Kinglake called him; “odious” is the epithet I
have heard commonly bestowed upon him by less affectionate acquaintances.
Kinglake was reserved, shy, reticent, with the high breeding, grand
manner, quiet urbanity, grata protervitas, of a waning epoch;
restraint, concentration, tact of omission, dictating alike his silence
and his speech; his well-weighed words “crystallizing into epigrams as
they touched the air.” {133} When Hayward’s last illness came upon him
in 1884, Kinglake nursed him tenderly; spending the morning in his
friend’s lodgings at 8, St. James’s Street, the house which Byron
occupied in his early London days; and bringing on the latest bulletin to
the club. The patient rambled towards the end; “we ought to be getting
ready to catch the train that we may go to my sister’s at Lyme.” Kinglake
quieted his sick friend by an assurance that the servants, whom he would
not wish to hurry, were packing. “On no account hurry the servants, but
still let us be off.” The last thought which he articulated while dying
was, “I don’t exactly know what it is, but I feel it is something grand.”
“Hayward is dead,” Kinglake wrote to a common friend; “the devotion shown
to him by all sorts and conditions of men, and, what is better, of women,
was unbounded. Gladstone found time to be with him, and to engage him in
a conversation of singular interest, of which he has made a memorandum.”

Another of Kinglake’s life-long familiars was Charles Skirrow, Taxing
Master in Chancery, with his accomplished wife, from whose memorable fish
dinners at Greenwich he was seldom absent, adapting himself no less
readily to their theatrical friends—the Bancrofts, Burnand, Toole,
Irving—than to the literary set with which he was more habitually at
home. He was religiously loyal to his friends, speaking of them with
generous admiration, eagerly defending them when attacked. He lauded
Butler Johnstone as the most gifted of the young men in the House of
Commons; would not allow Bernal Osborne to be called untrue; “he offends
people if you like, but he is never false or hollow.” A clever
sobriquet fathered on him, burlesquing the monosyllabic names of a
well-known diarist and official, he repelled indignantly. “He is my
friend, and had I been guilty of the jeu, I should have broken two of
my commandments; that which forbids my joking at a friend’s expense, and
that which forbids my fashioning a play upon words.” He entreated Madame
Novikoff to visit and cheer Charles Lever, dying at Trieste; deeply
lamented Sir H. Bulwer’s death: “I used to think his a beautiful
intellect, and he was wonderfully simpatico to me.” But he was shy of
condoling with bereaved mourners, believing words used on such occasions
to be utterly untrue. He loved to include husband and wife in the same
meed of admiration, as in the case of Dean Stanley and Lady Augusta, or
of Sir Robert and Lady Emily Peel. Peel, he said, has the radiant
quality not easy to describe; Lady Emily is always beauteous, bright,
attractive. Lord Stanhope he praised as a historian, paying him the
equivocal compliment that his books were much better than his
conversation. So, too, he qualified his admiration of Lady Ashburton,
dwelling on her beauty, silver voice, ready enthusiasm apt to disperse
itself by flying at too many objects.

Explanation

This excerpt from A. W. Kinglake: A Biographical and Literary Study by William Tuckwell offers a vivid portrait of Alexander William Kinglake (1809–1891), a Victorian historian, travel writer, and man of letters, best known for his monumental History of the Crimean War and Eothen, a travelogue of the Middle East. The passage focuses on Kinglake’s social character, friendships, and personal principles, revealing much about his aristocratic sensibilities, loyalty, wit, and the contradictions of Victorian gentlemanly culture. Below is a detailed breakdown of the text, its themes, literary devices, and significance.

Context & Background

Kinglake was a prominent figure in 19th-century British intellectual and political circles, moving between literary, legal, and aristocratic spheres. His works reflect a Romantic fascination with the East, a Tory skepticism of progress, and a fastidious attention to style. The excerpt is drawn from a biography that blends anecdote, character sketch, and social history, illustrating how Kinglake’s personality was shaped by—and reacted against—the changing mores of his time.

Key contextual notes:

Duelling: A declining but still symbolic practice among gentlemen in the early 19th century, associated with honor and social standing. Kinglake’s nostalgia for it reflects his disdain for Victorian bourgeois propriety and his idealization of a chivalric past.
Hayward (Abraham Hayward, 1801–1884): A barrister, journalist, and man of letters, known for his combative personality and literary salons. His friendship with Kinglake—despite their opposing temperaments—exemplifies the paradoxes of Victorian male friendship.
Charles Skirrow & other figures: Represent Kinglake’s diverse social network, from legal circles (Chancery) to theater (Irving, Bancrofts) and politics (Gladstone, Peel). His loyalty to friends, even flawed ones, underscores his code of personal honor.

Themes

The Decline of Aristocratic Honor Codes
- Kinglake’s regret over the decline of duelling frames the excerpt. He blames the Duke of Wellington (who banned it in the army) for eroding the "higher tone of good breeding"—a lament for the loss of ritualized masculinity and personal accountability.
- His own aborted duel (waiting eight days for an adversary who never appeared) is told with ironic grandeur, blending self-mockery and pride. The anecdote about freezing Lord R—’s second sober with icy politeness reveals his mastery of social power dynamics: he disarms aggression not with violence but with controlled disdain, a tactic of the old-school gentleman.
Friendship as Paradox
- The Kinglake-Hayward friendship is a study in contrasts:
  - Hayward: Loud, coarse, domineering ("odious" to others), embodying Victorian masculine bluster.
  - Kinglake: Reserved, tactful, epigrammatic, a relic of "a waning epoch" (Regency/early Victorian high society).
- Their bond defies logic—"in love and friendship paradox reigns supreme"—suggesting that human connections transcend rationality. Kinglake’s tender nursing of Hayward in his final illness (despite his flaws) highlights his capacity for devotion, a counterpoint to his public aloofness.
Loyalty and Moral Rigor
- Kinglake’s unwavering loyalty to friends is a recurring motif:
  - He defends Bernal Osborne (a controversial politician) against charges of falseness, insisting on moral nuance ("he offends, but is never hollow").
  - He rejects a witty but cruel sobriquet about a friend, invoking his self-imposed "commandments" against wordplay at others’ expense and jokes that harm. This reflects his ethical fastidiousness and disdain for frivolity.
  - His reluctance to offer condolences ("believing words used on such occasions to be utterly untrue") reveals his distrust of sentimental hypocrisy, a stoic trait.
Theatricality and Social Performance
- Kinglake’s self-presentation is highly stylized:
  - His speech "crystallizing into epigrams" evokes Oscar Wildean wit but with a Regency-era polish.
  - His freezing of Lord R—’s second is a theatrical triumph, where silence and tone become weapons.
  - His adaptation to different social circles (legal, literary, theatrical) shows his versatility, though he remains rooted in an older aristocratic ideal.
Death and Grandeur
- Hayward’s delirious final words ("I feel it is something grand") are ambiguous: Is he sensing the sublime, or is it the rambling of a dying man? Kinglake’s gentle deception (pretending servants are packing for a trip) is a tactful mercy, avoiding harsh reality.
- The outpouring of grief from "all sorts and conditions" (including Gladstone) contrasts with Hayward’s odious reputation, suggesting that charisma and intellect could outweigh personal flaws in Victorian society.

Literary Devices & Style

Anecdote as Character Revelation
- Tuckwell uses short, vivid stories (the duel, the confrontation with Lord R—’s second, Hayward’s deathbed) to illustrate Kinglake’s principles rather than stating them abstractly. This shows rather than tells, a hallmark of biographical writing.
Contrast & Juxtaposition
- Kinglake vs. Hayward: The opposing temperaments (reserved vs. boisterous) create dramatic tension, making their friendship more intriguing.
- Public vs. Private Kinglake: His epigrammatic wit in company vs. his tender nursing of Hayward in private reveals layers of complexity.
Irony & Understatement
- Kinglake’s regret for duelling is ironic given his nonviolent resolution of conflicts (e.g., freezing the Norfolk squire).
- His praise for Lord Stanhope’s books over his conversation is a backhanded compliment, hinting at social awkwardness.
Allusion & Cultural References
- Uncle Phillips in Pride and Prejudice: The boorish, port-wine-breathing squire is a literary shorthand for provincial aristocratic vulgarity, reinforcing the class tensions in the scene.
- Byron’s house: The mention of 8 St. James’s Street (where Byron once lived) elevates the setting, linking Kinglake to Romantic legacy.
Metaphor & Imagery
- "Crystallizing into epigrams": Suggests precision and brilliance, like words turning to gemstones in air.
- "Frozen him sober": A vivid metaphor for Kinglake’s chilling social authority.
Dialogue as Characterization
- The exchange with Lord R—’s second is sharply dramatic:
  - "I am one of those, Mr. Kinglake, who believe R— to be a gentleman."
  - "That, Sir, I am quite willing to assume."
  - The brevity and icy tone convey contempt without explicit insult, a masterclass in passive aggression.

Significance

A Window into Victorian Gentlemanly Culture
- The excerpt captures the tensions between old and new aristocratic ideals:
  - Duelling (honor culture) vs. Victorian respectability.
  - Epigrammatic wit (Regency style) vs. bourgeois earnestness.
- Kinglake embodies the "last of a breed"—a man clinging to elegance and restraint in an era of industrialization and democratic sentiment.
Friendship as a Moral Test
- The Kinglake-Hayward dynamic challenges Romantic ideals of friendship (e.g., Wordsworth’s "two minds with but a single thought"). Their opposing natures suggest that true friendship thrives on difference, not sameness.
The Power of Restraint
- Kinglake’s silence, tact, and epigrams are weapons of social control. His ability to defuse conflict without violence (unlike the duellists he admires) shows a modern, psychological approach to power.
The Victorian Cult of Death
- Hayward’s final words ("something grand") and the collective mourning (even from Gladstone) reflect the Victorian fascination with death as a reveal of character. Kinglake’s gentle lies to a dying man show how compassion could override truth in the rituals of grief.
Literary Legacy
- Kinglake’s style—precise, witty, allusive—influenced later writers like Max Beerbohm and Evelyn Waugh, who also satirized and celebrated the decline of the gentleman.

Conclusion: Kinglake as a Relic and a Rebel

This passage paints Kinglake as a man out of time: a Regency dandy in a Victorian world, clinging to duels, epigrams, and aristocratic loyalty while navigating new social currents. His friendships, wit, and moral codes reveal a complex mix of snobbery and sincerity, coldness and devotion. The excerpt is not just a biographical sketch but a meditation on the performance of gentlemanliness, the paradoxes of human connection, and the elegiac mood of an era in transition.

In an age of industrialization and democratic reform, Kinglake’s fastidiousness feels both quaint and subversive—a rejection of the vulgar, the hasty, and the insincere. His life, as told here, is a defense of style as substance, a reminder that manners could be as powerful as morals.

Questions

Question 1

The passage suggests that Kinglake’s regret over the decline of duelling is best understood as:

A. a nostalgic attachment to a ritualised form of social discipline that enforced personal accountability among gentlemen
B. a veiled critique of the Duke of Wellington’s military reforms and their broader cultural implications
C. an ironic performance of aristocratic bravado, belied by his own nonviolent resolution of conflicts
D. a literal preference for physical confrontation as the most honourable means of resolving disputes
E. a symbolic rejection of Victorian bourgeois values in favour of a Romantic ideal of chivalric heroism

Question 2

The exchange between Kinglake and Lord R—’s second (“I am one of those…” / “That, Sir, I am quite willing to assume.”) primarily serves to illustrate:

A. the inefficacy of verbal sparring in resolving gentlemanly disputes
B. the ways in which class differences manifest in linguistic register and tone
C. Kinglake’s ability to manipulate social conventions to his advantage
D. the performative nature of honour codes, where dominance is asserted through rhetorical control
E. the inherent absurdity of duelling customs and their associated etiquette

Question 3

The passage’s depiction of Kinglake’s friendship with Hayward is most effectively framed as an exploration of:

A. the redemptive power of loyalty in mitigating personal flaws
B. the Victorian ideal of masculine camaraderie as a counterpoint to domestic sentimentality
C. how paradoxical human connections defy rational categorisation or moral consistency
D. the tension between intellectual admiration and interpersonal incompatibility
E. the ways in which social status overrides temperament in determining alliances

Question 4

Kinglake’s refusal to joke at a friend’s expense or fashion puns on their names is best interpreted as:

A. an affectation of moral superiority to mask his own lack of spontaneity
B. a rejection of the Victorian trend toward frivolity in public discourse
C. an adherence to a self-imposed ethical code that prioritises loyalty over wit
D. a strategic avoidance of controversy in his social and professional circles
E. evidence of his declining relevance in an era that valued humour over gravitas

Question 5

The passage’s closing observations about Kinglake’s praise for couples like Dean Stanley and Lady Augusta or Sir Robert and Lady Emily Peel primarily function to:

A. underscore his preference for harmonious domestic partnerships over individual achievement
B. reveal his tendency to idealise unity and mutual admiration as antidotes to social fragmentation
C. contrast his public generosity with his private scepticism about marital happiness
D. highlight his ability to navigate both literary and political circles with equal aplomb
E. demonstrate how his aesthetic sensibilities extended to personal relationships

Solutions and Explanations

1) Correct answer: A

Why A is most correct: The passage frames Kinglake’s regret not as a literal desire for violence (D) or a Romantic rejection of bourgeois values (E), but as a longing for the social discipline duelling represented—a ritualised enforcement of personal accountability among gentlemen. His admiration for the "higher tone of good breeding" it upheld aligns with his broader nostalgia for a waning aristocratic code, where honour was performative yet binding. The aborted duel and his icy resolution of the Lord R— conflict (without violence) suggest he valued the symbolic function of duelling—its role in regulating conduct—more than the act itself.