Chapter VII. I Am Left At Castlewood An Orphan, And Find Most KindProtectors There
During the stay of the soldiers in Castlewood, honest Dick the Scholar wasthe constant companion of the lonely little orphan lad Harry Esmond: andthey read together, and they played bowls together, and when the othertroopers or their officers, who were free-spoken over their cups (as wasthe way of that day, when neither men nor women were over-nice), talkedunbecomingly of their amours and gallantries before the child, Dick, whovery likely was setting the whole company laughing, would stop their jokeswith a _maxima debetur pueris reverentia_, and once offered to lug outagainst another trooper called Hulking Tom, who wanted to ask Harry Esmonda ribald question.
Also, Dick seeing that the child had, as he said, a sensibility above hisyears, and a great and praiseworthy discretion, confided to Harry his lovefor a vintner's daughter, near to the Tollyard, Westminster, whom Dickaddressed as Saccharissa in many verses of his composition, and withoutwhom he said it would be impossible that he could continue to live. Hevowed this a thousand times in a day, though Harry smiled to see thelovelorn swain had his health and appetite as well as the most heart-wholetrooper in the regiment: and he swore Harry to secrecy too, which vow thelad religiously kept, until he found that officers and privates were alltaken into Dick's confidence, and had the benefit of his verses. And itmust be owned likewise that, while Dick was sighing after Saccharissa inLondon, he had consolations in the country; for there came a wench out ofCastlewood village who had washed his linen, and who cried sadly when sheheard he was gone: and without paying her bill too, which Harry Esmondtook upon himself to discharge by giving the girl a silver pocket-piece,which Scholar Dick had presented to him, when, with many embraces andprayers for his prosperity, Dick parted from him, the garrison ofCastlewood being ordered away. Dick the Scholar said he would never forgethis young friend, nor indeed did he: and Harry was sorry when the kindsoldiers vacated Castlewood, looking forward with no small anxiety (forcare and solitude had made him thoughtful beyond his years) to his fatewhen the new lord and lady of the house came to live there. He had livedto be past twelve years old now; and had never had a friend, save thiswild trooper perhaps, and Father Holt; and had a fond and affectionateheart, tender to weakness, that would fain attach itself to somebody, anddid not seem at rest until it had found a friend who would take charge ofit.
The instinct which led Henry Esmond to admire and love the graciousperson, the fair apparition of whose beauty and kindness had so moved himwhen he first beheld her, became soon a devoted affection and passion ofgratitude, which entirely filled his young heart, that as yet, except inthe case of dear Father Holt, had had very little kindness for which to bethankful. _O Dea certe_, thought he, remembering the lines out of the_Aeneis_ which Mr. Holt had taught him. There seemed, as the boy thought,in every look or gesture of this fair creature, an angelical softness andbright pity--in motion or repose she seemed gracious alike; the tone of hervoice, though she uttered words ever so trivial, gave him a pleasure thatamounted almost to anguish. It cannot be called love, that a lad of twelveyears of age, little more than a menial, felt for an exalted lady, hismistress: but it was worship. To catch her glance, to divine her errandand run on it before she had spoken it; to watch, to follow, adore her;became the business of his life. Meanwhile, as is the way often, his idolhad idols of her own, and never thought of or suspected the admiration ofher little pigmy adorer.
My lady had on her side her three idols: first and foremost, Jove andsupreme ruler, was her lord, Harry's patron, the good Viscount ofCastlewood. All wishes of his were laws with her. If he had a headache,she was ill. If he frowned, she trembled. If he joked, she smiled and wascharmed. If he went a-hunting, she was always at the window to see himride away, her little son crowing on her arm, or on the watch till hisreturn. She made dishes for his dinner: spiced his wine for him: made thetoast for his tankard at breakfast: hushed the house when he slept in hischair, and watched for a look when he woke. If my lord was not a littleproud of his beauty, my lady adored it. She clung to his arm as he pacedthe terrace, her two fair little hands clasped round his great one; hereyes were never tired of looking in his face and wondering at itsperfection. Her little son was his son, and had his father's look andcurly brown hair. Her daughter Beatrix was his daughter, and had hiseyes--were there ever such beautiful eyes in the world? All the house wasarranged so as to bring him ease and give him pleasure. She liked thesmall gentry round about to come and pay him court, never caring foradmiration for herself; those who wanted to be well with the lady mustadmire him. Not regarding her dress, she would wear a gown to rags,because he had once liked it: and, if he brought her a brooch or a ribbon,would prefer it to all the most costly articles of her wardrobe.
My lord went to London every year for six weeks, and the family being toopoor to appear at Court with any figure, he went alone. It was not untilhe was out of sight that her face showed any sorrow: and what a joy whenhe came back! What preparation before his return! The fond creature hadhis arm-chair at the chimney-side--delighting to put the children in it,and look at them there. Nobody took his place at the table; but his silvertankard stood there as when my lord was present.
A pretty sight it was to see, during my lord's absence, or on those manymornings when sleep or headache kept him abed, this fair young lady ofCastlewood, her little daughter at her knee, and her domestics gatheredround her reading the Morning Prayer of the English Church. Esmond longremembered how she looked and spoke kneeling reverently before the sacredbook, the sun shining upon her golden hair until it made a halo roundabout her. A dozen of the servants of the house kneeled in a line oppositetheir mistress; for awhile Harry Esmond kept apart from these mysteries,but Doctor Tusher showing him that the prayers read were those of theChurch of all ages, and the boy's own inclination prompting him to bealways as near as he might to his mistress, and to think all things shedid right, from listening to the prayers in the antechamber, he camepresently to kneel down with the rest of the household in the parlour; andbefore a couple of years my lady had made a thorough convert. Indeed, theboy loved his catechizer so much that he would have subscribed to anythingshe bade him, and was never tired of listening to her fond discourse andsimple comments upon the book, which she read to him in a voice of whichit was difficult to resist the sweet persuasion and tender appealingkindness. This friendly controversy, and the intimacy which it occasioned,bound the lad more fondly than ever to his mistress. The happiest periodof all his life was this; and the young mother, with her daughter and son,and the orphan lad whom she protected, read and worked and played, andwere children together. If the lady looked forward--as what fond woman doesnot?--towards the future, she had no plans from which Harry Esmond was leftout; and a thousand and a thousand times in his passionate and impetuousway he vowed that no power should separate him from his mistress, and onlyasked for some chance to happen by which he might show his fidelity toher. Now, at the close of his life, as he sits and recalls in tranquillitythe happy and busy scenes of it, he can think, not ungratefully, that hehas been faithful to that early vow. Such a life is so simple that yearsmay be chronicled in a few lines. But few men's life-voyages are destinedto be all prosperous; and this calm of which we are speaking was soon tocome to an end.
As Esmond grew, and observed for himself, he found of necessity much toread and think of outside that fond circle of kinsfolk who had admittedhim to join hand with them. He read more books than they cared to studywith him; was alone in the midst of them many a time, and passed nightsover labours, futile perhaps, but in which they could not join him. Hisdear mistress divined his thoughts with her usual jealous watchfulness ofaffection: began to forebode a time when he would escape from hishome-nest; and, at his eager protestations to the contrary, would onlysigh and shake her head. Before those fatal decrees in life are executed,there are always secret previsions and warning omens. When everything yetseems calm, we are aware that the storm is coming. Ere the happy days wereover, two a
t least of that home-party felt that they were drawing to aclose; and were uneasy, and on the look-out for the cloud which was toobscure their calm.
'Twas easy for Harry to see, however much his lady persisted in obedienceand admiration for her husband, that my lord tired of his quiet life, andgrew weary, and then testy, at those gentle bonds with which his wifewould have held him. As they say the Grand Lama of Thibet is very muchfatigued by his character of divinity, and yawns on his altar as hisbonzes kneel and worship him, many a home-god grows heartily sick of thereverence with which his family devotees pursue him, and sighs for freedomand for his old life, and to be off the pedestal on which his dependantswould have him sit for ever, whilst they adore him, and ply him withflowers, and hymns, and incense, and flattery;--so, after a few years ofhis marriage, my honest Lord Castlewood began to tire; all the high-flownraptures and devotional ceremonies with which his wife, his chiefpriestess, treated him, first sent him to sleep, and then drove him out ofdoors; for the truth must be told, that my lord was a jolly gentleman,with very little of the august or divine in his nature, though his fondwife persisted in revering it--and, besides, he had to pay a penalty forthis love, which persons of his disposition seldom like to defray: and, ina word, if he had a loving wife, had a very jealous and exacting one. Thenhe wearied of this jealousy: then he broke away from it; then came, nodoubt, complaints and recriminations; then, perhaps, promises of amendmentnot fulfilled; then upbraidings not the more pleasant because they weresilent, and only sad looks and tearful eyes conveyed them. Then, perhaps,the pair reached that other stage which is not uncommon in married life,when the woman perceives that the god of the honeymoon is a god no more;only a mortal like the rest of us--and so she looks into her heart, and lo!_vacuae sedes et inania arcana_. And now, supposing our lady to have afine genius and a brilliant wit of her own, and the magic spell andinfatuation removed from her which had led her to worship as a god a veryordinary mortal--and what follows? They live together, and they dinetogether, and they say "my dear" and "my love" as heretofore; but the manis himself, and the woman herself: that dream of love is over, aseverything else is over in life; as flowers and fury, and griefs andpleasures, are over.
Very likely the Lady Castlewood had ceased to adore her husband herselflong before she got off her knees, or would allow her household todiscontinue worshipping him. To do him justice, my lord never exacted thissubservience: he laughed and joked, and drank his bottle, and swore whenhe was angry, much too familiarly for any one pretending to sublimity; anddid his best to destroy the ceremonial with which his wife chose tosurround him. And it required no great conceit on young Esmond's part tosee that his own brains were better than his patron's, who, indeed, neverassumed any airs of superiority over the lad, or over any dependant ofhis, save when he was displeased, in which case he would express his mind,in oaths, very freely; and who, on the contrary, perhaps, spoiled "ParsonHarry", as he called young Esmond, by constantly praising his parts, andadmiring his boyish stock of learning.
It may seem ungracious in one who has received a hundred favours from hispatron to speak in any but a reverential manner of his elders; but thepresent writer has had descendants of his own, whom he has brought up withas little as possible of the servility at present exacted by parents fromchildren (under which mask of duty there often lurks indifference,contempt, or rebellion): and as he would have his grandsons believe orrepresent him to be not an inch taller than Nature has made him: so, withregard to his past acquaintances, he would speak without anger, but withtruth, as far as he knows it, neither extenuating nor setting down aughtin malice.
So long, then, as the world moved according to Lord Castlewood's wishes,he was good-humoured enough; of a temper naturally sprightly and easy,liking to joke, especially with his inferiors, and charmed to receive thetribute of their laughter. All exercises of the body he could perform toperfection--shooting at a mark and flying, breaking horses, riding at thering, pitching the quoit, playing at all games with great skill. And notonly did he do these things well, but he thought he did them toperfection; hence he was often tricked about horses, which he pretended toknow better than any jockey; was made to play at ball and billiards bysharpers who took his money; and came back from London wofully poorer eachtime than he went, as the state of his affairs testified, when the suddenaccident came by which his career was brought to an end.
He was fond of the parade of dress, and passed as many hours daily at histoilette as an elderly coquette. A tenth part of his day was spent in thebrushing of his teeth and the oiling of his hair, which was curling andbrown, and which he did not like to conceal under a periwig, such asalmost everybody of that time wore (we have the liberty of our hair backnow, but powder and pomatum along with it. When, I wonder, will thesemonstrous poll-taxes of our age be withdrawn, and men allowed to carrytheir colours, black, red, or grey, as nature made them?) And, as he likedher to be well dressed, his lady spared no pains in that matter to pleasehim; indeed, she would dress her head or cut it off if he had bidden her.
It was a wonder to young Esmond, serving as page to my lord and lady, tohear, day after day, to such company as came, the same boisterous storiestold by my lord, at which his lady never failed to smile or hold down herhead, and Doctor Tusher to burst out laughing at the proper point, or cry,"Fie, my lord, remember my cloth," but with such a faint show ofresistance, that it only provoked my lord further. Lord Castlewood'sstories rose by degrees, and became stronger after the ale at dinner andthe bottle afterwards; my lady always taking flight after the very firstglass to Church and King, and leaving the gentlemen to drink the rest ofthe toasts by themselves.
And, as Harry Esmond was her page, he also was called from duty at thistime. "My lord has lived in the army and with soldiers," she would say tothe lad, "amongst whom great licence is allowed. You have had a differentnurture, and I trust these things will change as you grow older; not thatany fault attaches to my lord, who is one of the best and most religiousmen in this kingdom." And very likely she believed so. 'Tis strange what aman may do, and a woman yet think him an angel.
And as Esmond has taken truth for his motto, it must be owned, even withregard to that other angel, his mistress, that she had a fault ofcharacter, which flawed her perfections. With the other sex perfectlytolerant and kindly, of her own she was invariably jealous, and a proofthat she had this vice is, that though she would acknowledge a thousandfaults that she had not, to this which she had she could never be got toown. But if there came a woman with even a semblance of beauty toCastlewood, she was so sure to find out some wrong in her, that my lord,laughing in his jolly way, would often joke with her concerning herfoible. Comely servant-maids might come for hire, but none were taken atCastlewood. The housekeeper was old; my lady's own waiting-woman squinted,and was marked with the small-pox; the housemaids and scullion wereordinary country wenches, to whom Lady Castlewood was kind, as her naturemade her to everybody almost; but as soon as ever she had to do with apretty woman, she was cold, retiring, and haughty. The country ladiesfound this fault in her; and though the men all admired her, their wivesand daughters complained of her coldness and airs, and said thatCastlewood was pleasanter in Lady Jezebel's time (as the dowager wascalled) than at present. Some few were of my mistress's side. Old LadyBlenkinsop Jointure, who had been at Court in King James the First's time,always took her side; and so did old Mistress Crookshank, BishopCrookshank's daughter, of Hexton, who, with some more of their like,pronounced my lady an angel; but the pretty women were not of this mind;and the opinion of the country was, that my lord was tied to his wife'sapron-strings, and that she ruled over him.
The second fight which Harry Esmond had, was at fourteen years of age,with Bryan Hawkshaw, Sir John Hawkshaw's son, of Bramblebrook, whoadvancing this opinion, that my lady was jealous, and henpecked my lord,put Harry into such a fury, that Harry fell on him, and with such rage,that the other boy, who was two years older, and by far bigger than he,had by far the worst of the assault, until it was interru
pted by DoctorTusher walking out of the dinner room.
Bryan Hawkshaw got up, bleeding at the nose, having, indeed, beensurprised, as many a stronger man might have been, by the fury of theassault upon him.
"You little bastard beggar!" he said, "I'll murder you for this!"
And indeed he was big enough.
"Bastard or not," said the other, grinding his teeth, "I have a couple ofswords, and if you like to meet me, as a man, on the terrace to-night----"
And here the doctor coming up, the colloquy of the young champions ended.Very likely, big as he was, Hawkshaw did not care to continue a fight withsuch a ferocious opponent as this had been.