CHAPTER VI.

  BENJAMIN, LORD CHANCELLOR.

  Summer follows winter and winter summer, in due course, turningchildren into young men and maidens, changing school into work,and play into love, and love into marriage, and so onwards to thechurchyard, where we all presently lie, hopeful of Heaven's mercy,whether Mr. Boscorel did stand beside our open grave in his whitesurplice, or my father in his black gown.

  Barnaby was gone; the other three grew tall, and would still betalking of the lives before them. Girls do never look forward tothe future with the eagerness and joy of boys. To the dullest boyit seems a fine thing to be master of his own actions, even if thatliberty lead to whipping-post, pillory, or gallows. To boys ofambition and imagination the gifts of Fortune show like the splendidvisions of a prophet. They think that earthly fame will satisfy thesoul. Perhaps women see these glories and their true worth withclearer eye as not desiring them. And truly it seems a small thing,after a life spent in arduous toil, and with one foot already in thegrave, to obtain fortune, rank, or title.

  Benjamin and Humphrey were lads of ambition. To both, but in fieldswhich lay far apart, the best life seemed to be that which is spentamong men on the ant-hill where all are driving or being driven,loading each other with burdens intolerable, or with wealth or withhonours, and then dying and being forgotten in a moment--which wecall London. In the kindly country one stands apart and sees thevanity of human wishes. Teat the ambition of Humphrey, it must beconfessed, was noble, because it was not for his own advancement,but for the good of mankind.

  'I shall stay at home,' said Robin. 'You two may go if you please.Perhaps you will like the noise of London, where a man cannot hearhimself speak, they say, for the roaring of the crowd, the ringingof the bells, and the rumbling of the carts. As for me, what is goodenough for my grandfather will be surely good enough for me.'

  It should, indeed, be good enough for anybody to spend his daysafter the manner of Sir Christopher, administering justice for thevillagers, with the weekly ordinary at Sherborne for company, thegreen fields and his garden for pleasure and for exercise, and thewelfare of his soul for prayer. Robin, besides, loved to go forthwith hawk and gun; to snare the wild creatures; to hunt the otterand the fox; to bait the badger, and trap the stoat and weasel; tocourse the hares. But cities and crowds, even if they should beshouting in his honour, did never draw him, even after he had seenthem. Nor was he ever tempted to believe any manner of life morefull of delight and more consistent with the end of man's creationthan the rural life, the air of the fields, the following of theplough for the men, and the spinning-wheel for the women.

  'I shall be a lawyer,' said Benjamin, puffing out his cheeks andsquaring his shoulders. 'Very well, then, I say I shall be a greatlawyer. What? None of your pettifogging tribe for me: I shall stepto the front, and stay there. What? Someone must have the prizes andthe promotion. There are always places falling vacant and honours tobe given away: they shall be given to me. Why not to me as well asanother?'

  'Well,' said Robin, 'you are strong enough to take them,willy-nilly.'

  'I am strong enough,' he replied, with conviction. 'First, I shallbe called to the Outer Bar, where I shall plead in stuff--I sawthem at Exeter last 'Sizes. Next, I shall be summoned to becomeKing's Counsel, when I shall flaunt it in silk. Who but I?' Then heseemed to grow actually three inches taller, so great is the powerof imagination. He was already six feet in height, his shouldersbroad, and his face red and fiery, so that now he looked very bigand tall. 'Then my Inn will make me a Bencher, and I shall sit atthe high table in term-time. And the attorneys shall run after meand fight with each other for my services in Court, so that in everygreat case I shall be heard thundering before the jury, and makingthe witnesses perjure themselves with terror--for which they will beafterwards flogged. I shall belong to the King's party--none of yourcanting Whigs for me. When the high treason cases come on, I shallbe the counsel for the Crown. That is the high road to advancement.'

  'This is very well, so far,' said Robin, laughing. 'Ben is toomodest, however. He does not get on fast enough.'

  'All in good time,' Ben replied. 'I mean to get on as fast asanybody. But I shall follow the beaten road. First, favour withattorneys and those who have suits in the Courts; then the ear ofthe Judge. I know not how one gets the ear of the Judge'--he lookeddespondent for a moment, then he held up his head again--'but Ishall find out. Others have found out--why not I? What? I am nofool, am I?'

  'Certainly not, Ben. But as yet we stick at King's Counsel.'

  'After the ear of the Judge, the favour of the Crown. What do Icare who is King? It is the King who hath preferment and placeand honours in his gift. Where these are given away, there shallI be found. Next am I made Serjeant-at-Law. Then I am saluted as'Brother' by the Judges on the Bench, while all the others burstwith envy. After that I shall myself be called to the Bench. Iam already "my Lord"--why do you laugh, Robin?--and a Knight: SirBenjamin Boscorel--Sir Benjamin.' Here he puffed out his cheeksagain, and swung his shoulders like a very great person indeed.

  'Proceed, Sir Benjamin,' said Humphrey, gravely, while Robin laughed.

  'When I am a Judge, I promise you I will rate the barristers andstorm at the witnesses and admonish the Jury until there shall beno other question in their minds but to find out first what is mywill in the case, and then to govern themselves accordingly. I willbe myself Judge and jury and all. Oh! I have seen the Judge at lastExeter 'Sizes. He made all to shake in their shoes. I shall not stopthere. Chief Baron I shall be, perhaps--but on that point I have notyet made up my mind--and then Lord Chancellor.' He paused to takebreath, and looked around him, grandeur and authority upon his brow.'Lord Chancellor,' he repeated, 'on the Woolsack!'

  'You will then,' said Robin, 'be raised to the peerage--first LordBoscorel; or perhaps, if your Lordship will so honour this poorvillage, Lord Bradford Orcas'----

  'Earl of Sherborne I have chosen for title,' said Benjamin. 'Andwhile I am climbing up the ladder, where wilt thou be, Humphrey?Grovelling in the mud with the poor devils who cannot rise?'

  'Nay, I shall have a small ladder of my own, Ben. I find greatcomfort in the thought that when your Lordship is roaring andbawling with the gout--your noble toe being like a ball of fire, andyour illustrious foot swathed in flannel--I shall be called upon todrive away the pain, and you will honour me with the title not onlyof humble cousin, but also of rescuer and preserver. Will it not behonour enough to cure the Right Honourable the Earl of Sherborne(first of the name), the Lord Chancellor, of his gout, and torestore him to the duties of his great office, so that once more heshall be the dread of evildoers and of all who have to appear beforehim? As yet, my Lord, your extremities, I perceive, are free fromthat disease--the result, too often, of that excess in wine whichbesets the great.'

  Here Robin laughed again, and so did Benjamin. Nobody could usefiner language than Humphrey, if he pleased.

  'A fine ambition!' said Ben. 'To wear a black velvet coat and agreat wig; to carry a gold-headed cane; all day long to listen whilethe patient tells of his gripes and pains; to mix boluses, and tocompound nauseous draughts!'

  'Well,' Humphrey laughed, 'if you are Lord Chancellor, Ben, youwill, I hope, give us good laws, and so make the nation happyand prosperous. While you are doing this, I will be keeping youin health for the good of the country. I say that this is a fineambition.'

  'And Robin, here, will sit in the great chair, and have the rogueshaled before him, and order the Head-borough to bring out hiscat-o'-nine-tails. In the winter evenings, he will play backgammon,and in the summer, bowls. Then a posset, and to bed. And never anychange from year to year. A fine life, truly!'

  'Truly, I think it is a very fine life,' said Robin; 'while you makethe laws, I will take care that they are obeyed. What better serviceis there than to cause good laws to be obeyed? Make good laws,my Lord Chancellor, and be thankful that you will have faithful,law-abiding men to carry them out.'

  Thus they talked. Presently th
e time came when the lads must leavethe village and go forth to prepare for such course as should beallotted to them, whether it led to greatness or to obscurity.

  Benjamin went first, being sixteen years of age and a great fellow,as I have said, broad-shouldered and lusty, with a red face, astrong voice, and a loud laugh. In no respect did he resemble hisfather, who was delicate in manner and in speech. He was to beentered at Gray's Inn, where, under some counsel learned in the law,he was to read until such time as he should be called.

  He came to bid me farewell, which at first, until he frightened mewith the things he said, I took kindly of him.

  'Child,' he said, 'I am going to London, and, I suppose, I shallnot come back to this village for a long time. Nay, were it not forthee, I should not wish to come back at all.'

  'Why for me, Ben?'

  'Because'--here his red face became redder, and he stammered alittle, but not much, for he was ever a lad of confidence--'because,child, thou art not yet turned twelve, which is young to be hearingof such a thing. Yet a body may as well make things safe. And asfor Humphrey or Robin interfering, I will break their heads with mycudgel if they do. Remember that, then.' He shook his finger at me,threatening.

  'In what business should they interfere?' I asked.

  'Kiss me, Alice'--here he tried to lay his arm round my neck, but Iran away. 'Oh! if thou art skittish, I care not: all in good time.Very well, then; let us make things safe. Alice, when I come backthou wilt be seventeen or eighteen, which is an age when girlsshould marry'----

  'I have nothing to do with marrying, Ben.'

  'Not yet. If I mistake not, child, thou wilt then be as beautiful asa rose in June.'

  'I want no foolish talk, Ben. Let me go.'

  'Then I shall be twenty-one years of age, practising in the courts.I shall go the Western Circuit, in order to see thee often--partlyto keep an eye upon thee and partly to warn off other men. Because,child, it is my purpose to marry thee myself. Think upon that, now.'

  At this I laughed.

  'Laugh if you please, my dear; I shall marry thee as soon as theway is open to the Bench and the Woolsack. What? I can see a longway ahead. I will tell thee what I see. There is a monstrous greatcrowd of people in the street staring at a glass coach. "Who isthe lovely lady?" they ask. "The lovely lady"--that is you, Alice;none other--"with the diamonds at her neck and the gold chain, inthe glass coach?" says one who knows her liveries: "'tis the ladyof the great Lord Chancellor, the Earl of Sherborne." And the womenfall green with envy of her happiness and great good fortune and hersplendour. Courage, child: I go to prepare the way. Oh! thou knowestnot the grand things that I shall pour into thy lap when I am ajudge.'

  This was the first time that any man spoke to me of love. ButBenjamin was always masterful, and had no respect for such a nicepoint as the wooing of a maiden--which, methinks, should be gentleand respectful, not as if a woman was like a savage to be temptedby a string of beads, or so foolish as to desire with her husbandsuch gauds as diamonds, or gold chains, or a glass coach. Nor dotha woman like to be treated as if she was to be carried off by forcelike the Sabine women of old.

  The Rector rode to London with his son. It is a long journey, overrough ways; but it pleased him once more to see that great city,where there are pictures and statues and books to gladden the heartsof such as love these things. And on the way home he sojourned for afew days at his old college of All Souls, where were still left oneor two of his old friends. Then he rode back to his village. 'Thereare but two places in this country,' he said, 'or perhaps three, atmost, where a gentleman and a scholar, or one who loveth the finearts, would choose to live. These are London and Oxford, and perhapsthe Sister University upon the Granta. Well, I have once more beenprivileged to witness the humours of the Court and the town: I haveonce more been permitted to sniff the air of a great library. Letus be thankful.' He showed his thankfulness with a sigh which wasalmost a groan.

  It was three years before we saw Benjamin again. Then he returned,but not for long. Like his father, he loved London better thanthe country, but for other reasons. Certainly, he cared nothingfor those arts which so much delighted the Rector, and the air ofa coffee-house pleased him more than the perfume of books in alibrary. When he left us he was a rustic; when he came back he wasalready what they call a fopling: that is to say, when he went topay his respects to Sir Christopher, his grandfather, he wore a veryfine cravat of Flanders lace, with silken hose, and lace and ribbonsat his wrist. He was also scented with bergamot, and wore a peruke,which, while he talked, he combed and curled, to keep the curls ofthis monstrous head-dress in place. Gentlemen must, I suppose, wearthis invention, and one of the learned professions must show theextent of the learning by the splendours of his full-bottomed wig.Yet I think that a young man looks most comely while he wears hisown hair. He had cocked his hat, on which were bows of riband, andhe wore a sword. He spoke also in a mincing London manner, havingnow forsworn the honest broad speech of Somerset; and (but not inthe presence of his elders) he used strange oaths and ejaculations.

  'Behold him!' said his father, by no means displeased at his son'sfoppery, because he ever loved the city fashions, and thought thata young man did well to dress and to comport himself after the wayof the world. 'Behold him! Thus he sits in the coffee-house; thushe shows himself in the pit. Youth is the time for finery and forfolly. Alas! would that we could bring back that time! What saithJohn Dryden--glorious John--of Sir Fopling?--

  '"His various modes from various fathers follow: One taught the toss, and one the new French wallow; His sword-knot this, his cravat that, designed, And this the yard-long snake he twirls behind. From one the sacred periwig he gained, Which wind ne'er blew, nor touch of hat profaned."

  'Well, Ben,' said Sir Christopher, 'if the mode can help thee to theBench why not follow the mode?'

  'It will not hinder, Sir,' Ben replied. 'A man who hath his fortuneto make does well to be seen everywhere, and to be dressed likeother men of his time.'

  One must do Benjamin the justice to acknowledge that though, likethe young gentlemen his friends and companions, his dress wasfoppish, and his talk was of the pleasures of the town, he sufferednothing to stand in the way of his advancement. He was resolved uponbeing a great lawyer, and, therefore, if he spent the evening indrinking, singing, and making merry, he was reading in chambers orelse attending the Courts all the day, and neglected nothing thatwould make him master of his profession. And, though of learninghe had little, his natural parts were so good, and his resolutionwas so strong, that I doubt not he would have achieved his ambitionhad it not been for the circumstances which afterwards cut shorthis career. His course of life, by his own boastful confession, wasprofligate; his friends were drinkers and revellers; his favouritehaunt was the tavern, where they all drank punch and sang ungodlysongs, and smoked tobacco; and of religion he seemed to have no carewhatever.

  I was afraid that he would return to the nauseous subject which hehad opened three years before. Therefore I continued with my mother,and would give him no chance to speak with me. But he found me, andcaught me returning home one evening.

  'Alice,' he said, 'I feared that I might have to go away without aword alone with thee.'

  'I want no words alone, Benjamin. Let me pass!' For he stood beforeme in the way.

  'Not so fast, pretty!'--he caught me by the wrist, and, being ayoung man so strong and determined, he held me as by a vice. 'Notso fast, Mistress Alice. First, my dear, let me tell thee that mypurpose still holds--nay'--here he swore a most dreadful, impiousoath--'I am more resolved than ever. There is not a woman, even inLondon, that is to be compared with thee, child. What? Comparedwith thee? Why, they are like the twinkling stars compared with theglorious Queen of Night. What did I say?--that at nineteen thouwouldst be a miracle of beauty? Nay, that time hath come already! Ilove thee, child! I love thee, I say, ten times as much as ever Iloved thee before!'

  He gasped, and then breathed hard; but still he he
ld me fast.

  'Idle compliments cost a man nothing, Benjamin. Say what you meantto say and let me go. If you hold me any longer I will cry out andbring your father to learn the reason.'

  'Well,' he said, 'I will not keep thee. I have said what I wanted tosay. My time hath not yet arrived. I am shortly to be called, andshall then begin to practise. When I come back here again, 'twillbe with a ring in one hand, and in the other the prospect of theWoolsack. Think upon that while I am gone. "Your Ladyship" is finerthan plain "Madam," and the Court is more delightful than a villagegreen among the pigs and ducks. Think upon it well: thou art a luckygirl; a plain village girl to be promoted to a coronet! However, Ihave no fears for thee; thou wilt adorn the highest fortune. Thouwilt be worthy of the great place whither I shall lead thee. What?Is Sir George Jeffreys a better man than I? Is he of better family?Had he better interest? Is he a bolder man? Not so. Yet was SirGeorge a Common Serjeant at twenty-three, and Recorder at thirty;Chief Justice of Chester at thirty-two. What he hath done I can do.Moreover, Sir George hath done me the honour to admit me to hiscompany, and will advance me. This he hath promised, both in hiscups and when he is sober. Think it over, child: a ring in one handand a title in the other.'

  So Benjamin went away again. I was afraid when I thought of him andhis promise, because I knew him of old; and his eyes were as full ofdetermination as when he would fight a lad of his own age and go onfighting till the other had had enough. Yet he could not marry meagainst my will. His own father would protect me, to say nothing ofmine.

  I should have told him then--as I had told him before--that Iwould never marry him. Then, perhaps, he would have been shakenin his purpose. The very thought of marrying him filled me withterror unspeakable. I was afraid of him not only because he was somasterful--nay, women like a man to be strong of will--but becausehe had no religion in him and lived like an Atheist, if such awretch there be; at all events, with unconcern about his soul; andbecause his life was profligate, his tastes were gross, and he wasa drinker of much wine. Even at the Manor House I had seen him atsupper drinking until his cheeks were puffed out and his voice grewthick. What kind of happiness would there be for a wife whosehusband has to be carried home by his varlets, too heavy with drinkto stand or to speak?

  Alas! there is one thing which girls, happily, do never apprehend.They cannot understand how it is possible for a man to become sopossessed with the idea of their charms (which they hold themselvesas of small account, knowing how fleeting they are, and of whatsmall value) that he will go through fire and water for that woman;yea, and break all the commandments, heedless of his immortal soul,rather than suffer another man to take her--and that, even though heknows that the poor creature loves him not, or loves another man. Ifmaidens knew this, I think that they would go in fear and tremblinglest they should be coveted by some wild beast in human shape, andprove the death of the gallant gentleman whom they would choose fortheir lover. Or they would make for themselves convents and hide inthem, so great would be their fear. But it is idle to speak of this,because, say what one will, girls can never understand the power andthe vehemence of love, when once it hath seized and doth thoroughlypossess a man.