"One, my lady, from Scotland," replied the servant, deferentially, and, at the same time, opening the bag in which the letters were usually carried to and from the post-house.
"Ah! from the earl," said the countess.
"No, my lady, I rather think not. The address is not in his lordship"s handwriting."
"Oh! the good Professor Lockerby," said the countess, contemplating for a moment the address of the letter in question, which was now in her ladyship"s hands. "I hope nothing unpleasant has occurred to my son."
And while she spoke, she hurriedly broke the seal, and, in the next instant, was intently engaged in perusing the intelligence which it had secured from the prying curiosity of parties whom it did not concern.
It would take a much abler pen than that now employed in tracing these lines, to convey anything like an adequate idea of the mingled expression of amazement, indignation, and grief exhibited on the countenance, and in every act and att.i.tude of the proud Countess of Wis...o...b..ry, on reading the story of her son"s degradation. The flush of haughty resentment was succeeded by the sudden paleness of despair; and in frequent alternation did these strong expressions of varied feeling flit across the fine countenance--still fine, although it had looked on fifty summers--of the heart-stricken mother, as she proceeded in her perusal of the fatal doc.u.ment. On completing the perusal, the countess threw herself in silent distraction on a sofa, and, still holding the open letter in her hand, sank into a maze of wild and wandering thoughts. These, however, seemed at length to concentrate in one decisive and sudden resolution. Starting from the reclining posture into which she had thrown herself, she advanced towards the bell-pull, rung furiously, and, when the servant entered to know what were her commands--
"Order the travelling carriage instantly, Jacob," she said--"instantly, instantly; and let four of my best horses be put in the harness. What do you stare at, fool?" she added, irritated at the look of astonishment which the inexplicable violence of her manner had called into the countenance of her trusty domestic. "Do as you are ordered, directly."
The man bowed and withdrew; and in pursuance of the commands he had received, proceeded to the stables.
"Here"s a start, Thomas!" he said, addressing a jolly-looking fellow, who was busily employed in brushing up some harness; "the travelling carriage directly, and four of your best horses for my lady."
"Why, what the devil"s the matter now?" replied Thomas, pausing in his operations; "where"s the old girl a-going to?"
"Not knowing, can"t say," replied Jacob; "but she"s in a woundy fuss, I warrant you. Never seed her in such a quandary in my life. Something"s wrong somewhere, I guess."
"Well, well, all"s one to me," said Thomas, with philosophical indifference; "but it looks like a long start, where-ever it may be to; so I"ll get my traps in order." And this duty was so expeditiously performed, that, in less than fifteen minutes, the very handsome travelling carriage of the Earl of Wis...o...b..ry, drawn by four spanking bays, flashed up to the door of Oxton Hall. In an instant after, it was occupied by the dowager countess, and in another, was rattling away for Scotland, at the utmost speed of the n.o.ble animals by which it was drawn.
Changing here, once more, the scene of our story, we return to the house of Professor Lockerby. There matters continued in that ominous state of quiescence, that significant and portentous calm, that precedes the bursting of the storm. Between the professor and the young earl, not a word more had pa.s.sed on the subject of the latter"s extraordinary declaration. Neither had made the slightest subsequent allusion to it, but continued their studies precisely as they had done before; although, perhaps, a degree of restraint--a consciousness of some point of difference between them--might now be discerned in their correspondence.
Both, in short, seemed to have tacitly agreed to abide the result of the professor"s letter to the countess, before taking any other step, or expressing any other feeling, on the subject to which that letter related. The antic.i.p.ated crisis which the professor and his n.o.ble pupil were thus composedly awaiting, soon arrived. On the third day after that remarkable one on which the young Earl of Wis...o...b..ry had avowed the humble daughter of an humble Scotch farmer to be his wife, a carriage and four, which, we need scarcely say, was the same we saw start from Oxton Hall, drove furiously up to the door of Professor Lockerby. The horses" flanks sent forth clouds of smoke; their mouths and fore-shoulders were covered with foam; and the carriage itself was almost encased in mud. Everything, in short, told of a long and rapid journey. And it was so. Night and day, without one hour"s intermission, had that carriage prosecuted its journey. In an instant after, the carriage stopped; its steps were down, and, bridling with high and lofty indignation, the Dowager Countess of Wis...o...b..ry descended, and, ere any one of the professor"s family were aware of her arrival, she had entered the house, the door being accidentally open, and was calling loudly for "her boy."
"Where is my son?" she exclaimed, as she made her way into the interior of the house: "where is the Earl of Wis...o...b..ry?"
In a moment after the Earl of Wis...o...b..ry, who had heard and instantly recognized his mother"s voice, was before her, and was about to rush into her arms, when she haughtily thrust him back, saying--
"Degraded, spiritless boy, dare not too approach me! You have blotted the n.o.blest, the proudest scutcheon of England. Where is Professor Lockerby?"
The professor was by her side before she had completed the sentence, when, seeing her agitation--
"My good lady," he said, in his most persuasive tone, "do allow me to entreat of you to be composed, and to have the honour of conducting you up stairs."
"Anywhere!--anywhere, professor!" exclaimed the countess; "but, alas! go where I will, I cannot escape the misery of my own thoughts, nor the disgrace which my unworthy son has brought upon my head."
Without making any reply to this outburst of pa.s.sionate feeling, the professor took the countess respectfully by the hand, and silently conducted her to his drawing-room. With stately step the countess entered, and walked slowly to the further end of the apartment; this gained, she turned round, and, when she had done so, a sight awaited her for which she was but little prepared. This was her son and Jessy Flowerdew, kneeling side by side, and, by their att.i.tude, eloquently imploring her forgiveness. It was just one of those sights best calculated to work on the n.o.bler nature of the Countess of Wis...o...b..ry, and to call up the finer feelings of her generous heart. For some seconds she looked at the kneeling pair in silent astonishment; her eye, however, chiefly fixed on the beauteous countenance of Jessy Flowerdew, pale with terror and emotion, and wet with tears. Having gazed for some time on this extraordinary sight, without betraying the slightest symptom of the feelings beyond that of surprise, with which it had inspired her, the countess slowly advanced towards the kneeling couple.
She still, however, uttered no word, and discovered no emotion; but a sudden change had come over her proud spirit. That spirit was now laid, and its place occupied by all the generous impulses of her nature.
Keeping her eye steadily fixed on the kneeling fair one before her, she approached her, paused a moment, extended her hand, placed it on the ivory forehead of Jessy Flowerdew, gently laid back her rich auburn hair, and, as she did so, said, in a tremulous, but emphatic voice--
"You _are_, indeed, a lovely girl! G.o.d bless you! Alfred, my son, rise,"
she added, in a low, but calm and solemn tone; "I forgive you." And she extended her hand towards him. The earl seized it, kissed it affectionately, and bathed it with his tears.
"Rise, my lady--rise, my fair Countess of Wis...o...b..ry," she now said, and herself aiding in the act she commanded, "I acknowledge you as my daughter, and we must now see to fitting you to the high station to which my son"s favour has promoted you, and of which, I trust, you will prove as worthy in point of conduct as you a.s.suredly already are in that of personal beauty. G.o.d bless you both! And may every happiness that the conjugal state affords, be yours! Professor," she added, and now turning round to that gentleman, "you will think this weakness--a mother"s weakness--and perhaps it is so--but I would myself fain attribute it to a more worthy feeling, and, if I know my own heart, it is so. But let that pa.s.s. I _am_ reconciled to the step my son has taken, and reverently leave it to G.o.d, and fearlessly to man, to judge of the motives by which I have been influenced. I trust they are such as to merit the approbation of both."
Surprised, and greatly affected by the unexpected turn which matters had taken, so contrary to what he had antic.i.p.ated, the worthy professor had listened to these expressions of the countess with averted head, and making the most ingenious use of the handkerchief which he held to his face that he could, to conceal the real purpose for which he employed it. When she had done--
"Madam," he said, with great agitation and confusion of manner, and still busily plying the handkerchief in its pretended vocation--"Madam, I--I--I am surprised--much affected, I a.s.sure you--much affected, my lady--with this striking instance of what a n.o.ble and generous nature is capable. I was by no means prepared for it. It does you infinite honour, my lady--infinite honour; and will, I trust, in its result, be productive of all that happiness to you which your magnanimous conduct so eminently deserves."
"I trust I have acted rightly, professor," was the brief reply of the countess, as she again turned to the young couple, who were now standing on the floor beside her, "I hope I have; and, if my heart does not deceive me, I am sure I have."
"You are warranted, my lady, in the confidence you express in the uprightness, the generosity of your conduct on this very remarkable occasion--perfectly warranted," replied the professor. "It is an unexampled instance of greatness, of liberality of mind, and as such I must always look on it."
Thus, then, terminated this extraordinary scene. It was subsequently arranged that the marriage of the earl should, in the meantime, be kept as secret as possible, and that the young countess should, in the interim, be sent for a year or two to one of the most celebrated seminaries of female education in England, under an a.s.sumed name, and that, when she should have acquired the attainments and the polish befitting her high station, she should be produced to the world as the Countess of Wis...o...b..ry.
Acting upon this plan of proceedings, the same carriage that brought down the earl"s mother, bore away, on the following day, together with that lady, the young earl and his bride; the latter, to commence her educational noviciate in England; the former, to while away the time as he best could until that noviciate should expire, a period which he proposed to render less irksome by a tour on the continent.
About two years after the occurrence of the events just related--it might be more, perhaps nearly three--Oxton Hall presented a scene of prodigious confusion and bustle. Little carts of provender were daily seen making frequent visits to the house. Huge old grates, in deserted kitchens, that had not been in use for a century before, were cleared of their rubbish, and glowing with blazing fires, at which enormous roasts were solemnly revolving. Menials were running to and fro in all directions, and a crowd of powdered and richly-liveried lackeys bustled backwards and forwards through the gorgeous apartments, loaded with silver plate, and bearing huge baskets of wine. Everything at Oxton Hall, in short, betokened preparations for a splendid fete--and such, in truth, was the case. To this fete all the n.o.bility and gentry, within a circuit of ten to fifteen miles were invited; and such an affair it promised to be, altogether, as had not been seen at Oxton Hall since the marriage of the last earl--a period of nearly thirty years. None of those invited knew, or could guess, what was the particular reason for so extensive a merry-making. Its scale, they learned, was most magnificent, and the invitations unprecedentedly numerous.
The whole affair was thus somewhat of a puzzle to the good people who were to figure as guests at the impending fete; but they comforted themselves with the reflection that they would know all about it by and by. In the meantime, the day appointed for the celebration of the proposed festival at Oxton Hall arrived; and, amongst the other preparations which more markedly characterized it, was the appearance of several long tables extended on the lawn in front of the house, and which were intended for the accommodation of the earl"s tenantry, who were also invited to share in the coming festivities. Towards the afternoon of the day alluded to, carriages and vehicles of all descriptions, and of various degrees of elegance, were seen, in seemingly endless numbers, streaming along the s.p.a.cious and well-gravelled walks that led, by many a graceful curve, through the surrounding lawn, to the n.o.ble portals of Oxton Hall. These, by turns, drew up in front of the princ.i.p.al entrance to the house, and delivered their several cargoes of lords and ladies, knights and squires, all honourable personages, and of high degree. An inferior description of equipages, again, and occupied by persons of a different cla.s.s, st.u.r.dy yeomen and their wives and daughters, found ther way, or rather were guided as they came, to a different destination, but with no difference in the hospitality of their reception. All were alike welcome to Oxton Hall on this auspicious day. By and by the hour of dinner came, and, when it did, it exhibited a splendid scene in the magnificent dining-room of the Earl of Wis...o...b..ry. In this dining-room were a.s.sembled a party of at least a hundred-and-fifty ladies and gentlemen, all in their best attire. Down the middle of the s.p.a.cious apartment ran a table of ample length and breadth, and capable of accommodating with ease even the formidable array by which it was shortly to be surrounded. On this s.p.a.cious board glittered as much wealth, in the shape of silver plate, as would have bought a barony, while everything around showed that it was still but a small portion of the riches of its n.o.ble owner. At the further end of the lordly hall, in an elevated recess or interior balcony, were stationed a band of musicians, to contribute the choicest specimens of the art to the hilarity of the evening. Altogether the scene was one of the most imposing that can well be conceived, an effect which was not a little heightened by the antique character of the n.o.ble apartment in which it was exhibited, one of whose most striking features was a large oriel window, filled with the most beautifully stained gla.s.s, which threw its subdued and sombre light on the magnificent scene beneath. Hitherto the young earl had not been seen by any of the company; his mother, the countess-dowager, having discharged the duties of hospitality in receiving the guests. Many were the inquiries made for the absent lord of the mansion; but these were all answered evasively, although always concluded with the a.s.surance that he would appear in good time.
Satisfied with this a.s.surance, the subject was no further pressed at the moment; but, as the dinner hour approached, and the earl had not yet presented himself, considerable curiosity and impatience began to be manifested amongst the a.s.sembled guests. These feelings increased every moment, and had attained their height, when the party found themselves called on to take their seats at table, and yet no earl had appeared.
The general surprise was further excited on its being observed that the countess-dowager did not, as usual, take the chair at the head of the table, as was expected, but placed herself on its right. The chair at the foot of the table remained also yet unoccupied; and great was the wonder what all this could mean. It was now soon to be explained. Just as the party had taken their seats, a folding-door, at the further end of the hall, flew open, and the young Earl of Wis...o...b..ry entered, leading by the hand a young female of exceeding beauty, attired in a dress of the most dazzling splendour, over which was gracefully thrown a Scottish plaid. Bowing slightly, but with a graceful and cordial expression, and smiling affably as he advanced, the earl conducted his fair charge to the head of the table, where, after a pause of a few seconds, which he purposely made in order to afford his guests an opportunity of marking the extreme loveliness of the lady whom he had thus so unexpectedly introduced to them--an opportunity which was not thrown away, as was evident from the murmur of admiration that ran round the brilliant a.s.sembly--the earl thus shortly addressed his wondering guests--
"Permit me, my friends," he said, "to introduce to you the Countess of Wis...o...b..ry!"
A shout of applause from the gentlemen, and a waving of handkerchiefs by the ladies, hailed the pleasing and unexpected intelligence--an homage whose duration and intensity was increased by the singularly graceful manner with which it was received and acknowledged by her to whom it was paid. Nothing could be more captivating than the modest, winning sweetness of her smile, nothing more pleasing to behold than the gentle grace of her every motion. On all present the impression was that she was a woman of birth, education, and high breeding, and nothing in the part she subsequently acted tended in the slightest degree to affect this idea. The young and lovely countess conducted herself throughout the whole of this eventful evening, as she did throughout the remainder of her life, with the most perfect propriety; and thus evinced that the pains taken to fit Jessy Flowerdew for the high station to which a singular good fortune had called her, was very far from having been taken in vain.
At the conclusion of the banquet, the earl entreated the indulgence of the company for an absence for himself and the countess of a quarter of an hour. This being of course readily acquiesced in, the earl and his beauteous young wife were seen, arm and arm, on the lawn, going towards the tables at which his tenantry were enjoying his hospitality. Here he went through precisely the same ceremony of introduction with that which we have described as having taken place in the banquet-hall; and here it was greeted with the same enthusiasm, and acknowledged by the countess with the same grace and propriety. This proceeding over, the earl and his young bride returned to their party, when one of the most joyous evenings followed that the banqueting-room of Oxton Hall had ever witnessed. There is only now to add, that Jessy Flowerdew"s subsequent conduct as Countess of Wis...o...b..ry proved her in every respect worthy of the high place to which she had been elevated. A mildness and gentleness of disposition, and a winning modesty of demeanour, which all the wealth and state with which she was surrounded could not in the slightest degree impair, distinguished her through life; and no less distinguished was she by the generosity and benevolence of her nature, a nature which her change of destiny was wholly unable to pervert."
Such, then, good reader, is the history of the lady whose portrait, in which she appears habited in a Scottish plaid, adorns, with others, the walls of the picture gallery of Oxton Hall, in Wiltshire.
MIDSIDE MAGGY;
OR,
THE BANNOCK O" TOLLISHILL.
"Every bannock had its maik, but the bannock o" Tollishill."
_Scottish Proverb._
Belike, gentle reader, thou hast often heard the proverb quoted above, that "Every bannock had its maik, but the bannock o" Tollishill." The saying hath its origin in a romantic tradition of the Lammermoors, which I shall relate to thee. Tollishill is the name of a sheep-farm in Berwickshire, situated in the parish of Lauder. Formerly, it was divided into three farms, which were occupied by different tenants; and, by way of distinguishing it from the others, that in which dwelt the subjects of our present story was generally called Midside, and our heroine obtained the appellation of Midside Maggy. Tollishill was the property of John, second Earl, and afterwards Duke of Lauderdale--a personage whom I shall more than once, in these tales, have occasion to bring before mine readers, and whose character posterity hath small cause to hold in veneration. Yet it is a black character, indeed, in which there is not to be found one streak of sunshine; and the story of the "Bannock of Tollishill" referreth to such a streak in the history of John, the Lord of Thirlestane.
Time hath numbered somewhat more than a hundred and ninety years since Thomas Hardie became tenant of the princ.i.p.al farm of Tollishill. Now, that the reader may picture Thomas Hardie as he was, and as tradition hath described him, he or she must imagine a tall, strong, and fresh-coloured man of fifty; a few hairs of grey mingling with his brown locks; a countenance expressive of much good nature and some intelligence; while a Lowland bonnet was drawn over his brow. The other parts of his dress were of coa.r.s.e, grey, homespun cloth, manufactured in Earlston; and across his shoulders, in summer as well as in winter, he wore the mountain plaid. His principles a.s.similated to those held by the men of the covenant; but Thomas, though a native of the hills, was not without the worldly prudence which is considered as being more immediately the characteristic of the buying and selling children of society. His landlord was no favourer of the Covenant; and, though Thomas wished well to the cause, he did not see the necessity for making his laird, the Lord of Lauderdale, his enemy for its sake. He, therefore, judged it wise to remain a neutral spectator of the religious and political struggles of the period.
But Thomas was a bachelor. Half a century had he been in the world, and the eyes of no woman had had power to throw a spark into his heart. In his single, solitary state, he was happy, or he thought himself happy; and that is much the same thing. But an accident occurred which led him first to believe, and eventually to feel, that he was but a solitary and comfortless moorland farmer, toiling for he knew not what, and laying up treasure he knew not for whom. Yea, and while others had their wives spinning, carding, knitting, and smiling before them, and their bairns running laughing and sporting round about them, he was but a poor deserted creature, with n.o.body to care for, or to care for him. Every person had some object to strive for and to make them strive but Thomas Hardie; or, to use his own words, he was "just in the situation o" a tewhit that has lost its mate--_te-wheet! te-wheet!_ it cried, flapping its wings impatiently and forlornly--and _te-wheet! te-wheet!_ answered vacant echo frae the dreary glens."
Thomas had been to Morpeth disposing of a part of his hirsels, and he had found a much better market for them than he antic.i.p.ated. He returned, therefore, with a heavy purse, which generally hath a tendency to create a light and merry heart; and he arrived at Westruther, and went into a hostel, where, three or four times in the year, he was in the habit of spending a cheerful evening with his friends. He had called for a quegh of the landlady"s best, and he sat down at his ease with the liquor before him, for he had but a short way to travel. He also pulled out his tobacco-box and his pipe, and began to inhale the fumes of what, up to that period, was almost a forbidden weed. But we question much if the royal book of James the Sixth of Scotland and First of England, which he published against the use of tobacco, ever found its way into the Lammermoors, though the Indian weed did; therefore, Thomas Hardie sat enjoying his gla.s.s and his pipe, unconscious or regardless of the fulminations which he who was king in his boyhood, had published against the latter. But he had not sat long, when a fair maiden, an acquaintance of "mine hostess," entered the hostelry, and began to a.s.sist her in the cutting out or fashioning of a crimson kirtle. Her voice fell upon the ears of Thomas like the "music of sweet sounds." He had never heard a voice before that not only fell softly on his ear, but left a lingering murmur in his heart. She, too, was a young thing of not more than eighteen. If ever hair might be called "gowden," it was hers. It was a light and shining bronze, where the prevalence of the golden hue gave a colour to the whole. Her face was a thing of beauty, over which health spread its roseate hue, yet softly, as though the westling winds had caused the leaves of the blushing rose to kiss her cheeks, and leave their delicate hues and impression behind them. She was of a middle stature, and her figure was such, although arrayed in homely garments, as would have commanded the worship of a connoisseur of grace and symmetry. But beyond all that kindled a flame within the hitherto obdurate heart of Thomas, was the witching influence of her smile. For a full hour he sat with his eyes fixed upon her; save at intervals, when he withdrew them to look into the unwonted agitation of his own breast, and examine the cause.
"Amongst the daughters of women," thought he unto himself--for he had a sprinkling of the language of the age about him--"none have I seen so beautiful. Her cheeks bloom bonnier than the heather on Tollishill, and her bosom seems saft as the new-shorn fleece. Her smile is like a blink o" sunshine, and would mak summer to those on whom it fell a" the year round."
He also discovered, for the first time, that "Tollishill was a dull place, especially in the winter season." When, therefore, the fair damsel had arrayed the fashion of the kirtle and departed, without once having seemed to observe Thomas, he said unto the goodwife of the hostelry--"And wha, noo, if it be a fair question, may that bonnie la.s.sie be?"
"She is indeed a bonnie la.s.sie," answered the landlady, "and a guid la.s.sie, too; and I hae nae doot but, as ye are a single man, Maister Hardie, yer question is fair enough. Her name is Margaret Lylestone, and she is the only bairn o" a puir infirm widow that cam to live here some twa or three years syne. They cam frae south owre some way, and I am sure they hae seen better days. We thocht at first that the auld woman had been a Catholic; but I suppose that isna the case, though they certainly are baith o" them strong Episcopawlians, and in nae way favourable to the preachers or the word o" the Covenant; but I maun say for Maggie, that she is a bonny, sweet-tempered, and obleegin la.s.sie--though, puir thing, her mother has brocht her up in a wrang way."