Henry Esmond; The English Humourists; The Four Georges
Chapter VIII. Family Talk
What Harry admired and submitted to in the pretty lad, his kinsman, was(for why should he resist it?) the calmness of patronage which my younglord assumed, as if to command was his undoubted right, and all the world(below his degree) ought to bow down to Viscount Castlewood.
"I know my place, Harry," he said. "I'm not proud--the boys at WinchesterCollege say I'm proud: but I'm not proud. I am simply Francis JamesViscount Castlewood in the peerage of Ireland. I might have been (do youknow that?) Francis James Marquis and Earl of Esmond in that of England.The late lord refused the title which was offered to him by my godfather,his late Majesty. You should know that--you are of our family, you know--youcannot help your bar sinister, Harry, my dear fellow; and you belong toone of the best families in England, in spite of that; and you stood by myfather, and by G----! I'll stand by you. You shall never want a friend,Harry, while Francis James Viscount Castlewood has a shilling. It's now1703--I shall come of age in 1709. I shall go back to Castlewood; I shalllive at Castlewood; I shall build up the house. My property will be prettywell restored by then. The late viscount mismanaged my property, and leftit in a very bad state. My mother is living close, as you see, and keepsme in a way hardly befitting a peer of these realms; for I have but a pairof horses, a governor, and a man that is valet and groom. But when I am ofage, these things will be set right, Harry. Our house will be as it shouldbe. You'll always come to Castlewood, won't you? You shall always haveyour two rooms in the court kept for you; and if anybody slights you, d----them! let them have a care of _me_. I shall marry early--'Trix will be aduchess by that time, most likely; for a cannon-ball may knock over hisgrace any day, you know."
"How?" says Harry.
"Hush, my dear!" says my lord viscount. "You are of the family--you arefaithful to us, by George, and I tell you everything. Blandford will marryher--or ----" and here he put his little hand on his sword--"you understandthe rest. Blandford knows which of us two is the best weapon. Atsmall-sword, or back-sword, or sword and dagger, if he likes: I can beathim. I have tried him, Harry; and begad, he knows I am a man not to betrifled with."
"But you do not mean," says Harry, concealing his laughter, but not hiswonder, "that you can force my Lord Blandford, the son of the first man ofthis kingdom, to marry your sister at sword's point?"
"I mean to say that we are cousins by the mother's side, though that'snothing to boast of. I mean to say that an Esmond is as good as aChurchill; and when the king comes back, the Marquis of Esmond's sistermay be a match for any nobleman's daughter in the kingdom. There are buttwo marquises in all England, William Herbert, Marquis of Powis, andFrancis James, Marquis of Esmond; and hark you, Harry, now swear you'llnever mention this. Give me your honour as a gentleman, for you _are_ agentleman, though you are a----"
"Well, well," says Harry, a little impatient.
"Well, then, when after my late viscount's misfortune, my mother went upwith us to London, to ask for justice against you all (as for Mohun, I'llhave his blood, as sure as my name is Francis Viscount Esmond), we went tostay with our cousin my Lady Marlborough, with whom we had quarrelled forever so long. But when misfortune came, she stood by her blood:--so did thedowager viscountess stand by her blood,--so did you. Well, sir, whilst mymother was petitioning the late Prince of Orange--for I will never call himking--and while you were in prison, we lived at my Lord Marlborough'shouse, who was only a little there, being away with the army in Holland.And then ... I say, Harry, you won't tell, now?"
Harry again made a vow of secrecy.
"Well, there used to be all sorts of fun, you know: my Lady Marlboroughwas very fond of us, and she said I was to be her page; and she got 'Trixto be a maid of honour, and while she was up in her room crying, we usedto be always having fun, you know; and the duchess used to kiss me, and sodid her daughters, and Blandford fell tremendous in love with 'Trix, andshe liked him; and one day he--he kissed her behind a door--he didthough,--and the duchess caught him, and she banged such a box of the earboth to 'Trix and Blandford--you should have seen it! And then she saidthat we must leave directly, and abused my mamma, who was cognizant of thebusiness; but she wasn't--never thinking about anything but father. And sowe came down to Walcote. Blandford being locked up, and not allowed to see'Trix. But _I_ got at him. I climbed along the gutter, and in through thewindow, where he was crying.
" 'Marquis,' says I, when he had opened it and helped me in, 'you know Iwear a sword,' for I had brought it.
" 'Oh, viscount,' says he--'oh, my dearest Frank!' and he threw himselfinto my arms and burst out a-crying. 'I do love Mistress Beatrix so, thatI shall die if I don't have her.'
" 'My dear Blandford,' says I, 'you are young to think of marrying;' forhe was but fifteen, and a young fellow of that age can scarce do so, youknow.
" 'But I'll wait twenty years, if she'll have me,' says he. 'I'll nevermarry--no never, never, never, marry anybody but her. No, not a princess,though they would have me do it ever so. If Beatrix will wait for me, herBlandford swears he will be faithful.' And he wrote a paper (it wasn'tspelt right, for he wrote: 'I'm ready to _sine with my blode_', which youknow, Harry, isn't the way of spelling it), and vowing that he would marrynone other but the Honourable Mistress Gertrude Beatrix Esmond, onlysister of his dearest friend Francis James, fourth Viscount Esmond. And soI gave him a locket of her hair."
"A locket of her hair!" cries Esmond.
"Yes. 'Trix gave me one after the fight with the duchess that very day. Iam sure I didn't want it; and so I gave it him, and we kissed at parting,and said--'Good-bye, brother.' And I got back through the gutter; and weset off home that very evening. And he went to King's College, inCambridge, and _I'm_ going to Cambridge soon; and if he doesn't stand tohis promise (for he's only wrote once),--he knows I wear a sword, Harry.Come along, and let's go see the cocking-match at Winchester.
"....But I say," he added laughing, after a pause, "I don't think 'Trixwill break her heart about him. Law bless you! Whenever she sees a man,she makes eyes at him; and young Sir Wilmot Crawley of Queen's Crawley,and Anthony Henley of Alresford, were at swords drawn about her, at theWinchester Assembly, a month ago."
That night Mr. Harry's sleep was by no means so pleasant or sweet as ithad been on the first two evenings after his arrival at Walcote. "So thebright eyes have been already shining on another," thought he, "and thepretty lips, or the cheeks at any rate, have begun the work which theywere made for. Here's a girl not sixteen, and one young gentleman isalready whimpering over a lock of her hair, and two country squires areready to cut each other's throats that they may have the honour of a dancewith her. What a fool am I to be dallying about this passion, and singeingmy wings in this foolish flame. Wings!--why not say crutches? There is buteight years' difference between us, to be sure; but in life I am thirtyyears older. How could I ever hope to please such a sweet creature asthat, with my rough ways and glum face? Say that I have merit ever somuch, and won myself a name, could she ever listen to me? She must be mylady marchioness, and I remain a nameless bastard. O my master, mymaster!" (here he fell to thinking with a passionate grief of the vowwhich he had made to his poor dying lord); "O my mistress, dearest andkindest, will you be contented with the sacrifice which the poor orphanmakes for you, whom you love, and who so loves you?"
And then came a fiercer pang of temptation. "A word from me," Harrythought, "a syllable of explanation, and all this might be changed; butno, I swore it over the dying bed of my benefactor. For the sake of himand his; for the sacred love and kindness of old days; I gave my promiseto him, and may kind Heaven enable me to keep my vow!"
The next day, although Esmond gave no sign of what was going on in hismind, but strove to be more than ordinarily gay and cheerful when he methis friends at the morning meal, his dear mistress, whose clear eyes itseemed no emotion of his could escape, perceived that something troubledhim, for she looked anxiously towards him more than once during thebreakfast, and when he went up to his chamber afterw
ards she presentlyfollowed him, and knocked at his door.
As she entered, no doubt the whole story was clear to her at once, for shefound our young gentleman packing his valise, pursuant to the resolutionwhich he had come to over-night of making a brisk retreat out of thistemptation.
She closed the door very carefully behind her, and then leant against it,very pale, her hands folded before her, looking at the young man, who waskneeling over his work of packing. "Are you going so soon?" she said.
He rose up from his knees, blushing, perhaps, to be so discovered, in thevery act, as it were, and took one of her fair little hands--it was thatwhich had her marriage ring on--and kissed it.
"It is best that it should be so, dearest lady," he said.
"I knew you were going, at breakfast. I--I thought you might stay. What hashappened? Why can't you remain longer with us? What has Frank told you--youwere talking together late last night?"
"I had but three days' leave from Chelsea," Esmond said, as gaily as hecould. "My aunt--she lets me call her aunt--is my mistress now; I owe her mylieutenancy and my laced coat. She has taken me into high favour; and mynew general is to dine at Chelsea to-morrow--General Lumley, madam--who hasappointed me his aide de camp, and on whom I must have the honour ofwaiting. See, here is a letter from the dowager; the post brought it lastnight; and I would not speak of it, for fear of disturbing our last merrymeeting."
My lady glanced at the letter, and put it down with a smile that wassomewhat contemptuous. "I have no need to read the letter," saysshe--(indeed, 'twas as well she did not; for the Chelsea missive, in thepoor dowager's usual French jargon, permitted him a longer holiday than hesaid. "_Je vous donne_," quoth her ladyship, "_oui jour, pour vous fatigayparfaictement de vos parens fatigans_")--"I have no need to read theletter," says she. "What was it Frank told you last night?"
"He told me little I did not know," Mr. Esmond answered. "But I havethought of that little, and here's the result; I have no right to the nameI bear, dear lady; and it is only by your sufferance that I am allowed tokeep it. If I thought for an hour of what has perhaps crossed your mindtoo----"
"Yes, I did, Harry," said she; "I thought of it; and think of it. I wouldsooner call you my son than the greatest prince in Europe--yes, than thegreatest prince. For who is there so good and so brave, and who would loveher as you would? But there are reasons a mother can't tell."
"I know them," said Mr. Esmond, interrupting her with a smile.--"I knowthere's Sir Wilmot Crawley of Queen's Crawley, and Mr. Anthony Henley ofthe Grange, and my Lord Marquis of Blandford, that seems to be thefavoured suitor. You shall ask me to wear my lady marchioness's favoursand to dance at her ladyship's wedding."
"Oh, Harry, Harry, it is none of these follies that frighten me," criedout Lady Castlewood. "Lord Churchill is but a child, his outbreak aboutBeatrix was a mere boyish folly. His parents would rather see him buriedthan married to one below him in rank. And do you think that I would stoopto sue for a husband for Francis Esmond's daughter; or submit to have mygirl smuggled into that proud family to cause a quarrel between son andparents, and to be treated only as an inferior? I would disdain such ameanness. Beatrix would scorn it. Ah! Henry, 'tis not with you the faultlies, 'tis with her. I know you both, and love you: need I be ashamed ofthat love now? No, never, never, and 'tis not you, dear Harry, that isunworthy. 'Tis for my poor Beatrix I tremble--whose headstrong willfrightens me; whose jealous temper (they say I was jealous too, but, prayGod, I am cured of that sin) and whose vanity no words or prayers of minecan cure--only suffering, only experience, and remorse afterwards. Oh,Henry, she will make no man happy who loves her. Go away, my son, leaveher: love us always, and think kindly of us: and for me, my dear, you knowthat these walls contain all that I love in the world."
In after-life, did Esmond find the words true which his fond mistressspoke from her sad heart? Warning he had: but I doubt others had warningbefore his time, and since: and he benefited by it as most men do.
My young lord viscount was exceeding sorry when he heard that Harry couldnot come to the cock-match with him, and must go to London, but no doubtmy lord consoled himself when the Hampshire cocks won the match; and hesaw every one of the battles, and crowed properly over the conqueredSussex gentlemen.
As Esmond rode towards town his servant, coming up to him, informed himwith a grin, that Mistress Beatrix had brought out a new gown and bluestockings for that day's dinner, in which she intended to appear, and hadflown into a rage and given her maid a slap on the face soon after sheheard he was going away. Mistress Beatrix's woman, the fellow said, camedown to the servants' hall, crying, and with the mark of a blow still onher cheek: but Esmond peremptorily ordered him to fall back and be silent,and rode on with thoughts enough of his own to occupy him--some sad ones,some inexpressibly dear and pleasant.
His mistress, from whom he had been a year separated, was his dearestmistress again. The family from which he had been parted, and which heloved with the fondest devotion, was his family once more. If Beatrix'sbeauty shone upon him, it was with a friendly lustre, and he could regardit with much such a delight as he brought away after seeing the beautifulpictures of the smiling Madonnas in the convent at Cadiz, when he wasdispatched thither with a flag: and as for his mistress, 'twas difficultto say with what a feeling he regarded her. 'Twas happiness to have seenher: 'twas no great pang to part; a filial tenderness, a love that was atonce respect and protection, filled his mind as he thought of her; andnear her or far from her, and from that day until now, and from now tilldeath is past, and beyond it, he prays that sacred flame may ever burn.