For Faith and Freedom

by Walter Besant

  CHAPTER IX.

  WITH THE ELDERS.

  So we went home again, all well pleased, and I holding the Duke'sring tight, I promise you. It was a most beautiful ring when I cameto look at it; a great emerald was in the midst of it, with littlepearls and emeralds set alternately around it. Never was such agrand gift to so humble a person. I tied it to a black ribbon, andput it in the box which held my clothes. But sometimes I could notforbear the pleasure of wearing it round my neck secretly; not forthe joy of possessing the ring, so much as for remembering thelovely face and the gracious words of the giver.

  At that time I was in my sixteenth year, but well-grown for my age.Like my father, I was above the common stature and taller than most.We continued for more than four years longer to live without thecompany of the boys, which caused me to be much in the society of myelders, and as much at the Manor House and the Rectory as at home.At the former place, Sir Christopher loved to have me with him allday long, if my mother would suffer it; when he walked abroad, Imust walk with him; when he walked in his garden I must be at hisside. When he awoke after his afternoon sleep, he liked to see mesitting ready to talk to him. I must play to him and sing to him;or I must bring out the backgammon board; or I must read the lastletters from Robin and Humphrey. Life is dull for an old man whosefriends are mostly dead, unless he have the company of the young.So David, in his old age, took to himself a young wife. I havesometimes thought that he would have done better to have comfortedhis heart with the play and prattle of his grandchildren--of whom,I suppose, there must have been many families.

  Now, as I was so much with his Honour, I had much talk with him uponthings on which wise and ancient men do not often converse withgirls, and I was often present when he discoursed with my father orwith his son-in-law, the Rector, on high and serious matters. Itwas a time of great anxiety and uncertainty. There were great Popeburnings in the country; and when some were put in pillory for riotat these bonfires not a hand was lifted against them. They had oneat Sherborne on November 17, the anniversary of Queen Elizabeth'sCoronation day, instead of November 5, Guy Faux Day. Boys went aboutthe streets asking for halfpence and singing--

  Up with the ladder, And down with the rope; Give us a penny To burn the old Pope.

  There were riots in Taunton, where the High Church party burned thepulpit of a meeting-house; people went about openly saying that theRoundheads would soon come back again. From Robin we heard of thePopish plot, and the flight of the Duke of York, and afterwards ofMonmouth's disgrace and exile. At all the market towns where mengathered together they talked of these things, and many whisperedtogether: a thing which Sir Christopher loved not, because it spokeof conspiracies and secret plots, whereas he was all for bolddeclaration of conscience.

  In short, it was an anxious time, and everybody understood thatserious things would happen should the King die. There were notwanting, besides, omens of coming ills--if you accept such thingsas omens or warnings. To Taunton (afterwards the town most affectedby the Rebellion) a plain warning was vouchsafed by the rumblingand thundering and shaking of the earth itself, so that dishes wereknocked down and cups broken, and plaster shaken off the wallsof houses. And once (this did I myself see with my own eyes) thesun rose with four other suns for companions--a most terrifyingsight, though Mr. Boscorel, who spoke learnedly on omens, had anexplanation of this miracle, which he said was due to natural causesalone. And at Ile Brewers there was a monstrous birth of two girlswith but one body from the breast downwards; their names were Aquilaand Priscilla; but I believe they lived but a short time.

  I needs must tell of Mr. Boscorel, because he was a man the likeof whom I have never since beheld. I believe there can be few mensuch as he was, who could so readily exchange the world of heat andargument for the calm and dispassionate air of art and music. Evenreligion (if I may venture to say so) seemed of less importance tohim than painting and sculpture. I have said that he taught me toplay upon the spinnet. Now that Humphrey was gone, he desired mycompany every day, in order, he pretended, that I might grow perfectin my performance, but in reality because he was lonely at theRectory, and found pleasure in my company. We played together--heupon the violoncello and I upon the spinnet--such music as he chose.It was sometimes grave and solemn music, such as Lulli's 'Miserere'or his 'De Profundis'; sometimes it was some part of a RomanCatholic Mass: then was my soul uplifted and wafted heavenwards bythe chords, which seemed prayer and praise fit for the angels toharp before the throne. Sometimes it was music which spoke of humanpassions, when I would be, in like manner, carried out of myself. Mymaster would watch not only my execution, commenting or correcting,but he would also watch the effect of the music upon my mind.

  'We are ourselves,' he said, 'like unto the instruments upon whichwe play. For as one kind of instrument, as the drum, produces butone note; and another, as the cymbals, but a clashing which is initself discordant, but made effective in a band; so others are, likethe most delicate and sensitive violins--those of Cremona--capableof producing the finest music that the soul of man hath everdevised. It is by such music, child, that some of us mount untoheaven. As for me, indeed, I daily feel more and more that musicleadeth the soul upward, and that, as regards the disputations onthe Word of God, the letter indeed killeth, but the spirit whichmusic helpeth us to feel--the spirit, I say, giveth life.' Hesighed, and drew his bow gently across the first string of hisvioloncello. ''Tis a time of angry argument. The Word of God isthrown from one to the other as a pebble is shot from a sling. Itwearies me. In this room, among these books of music, my soul findsrest, and the spiritual part of me is lifted heavenwards. Humphreyand you, my dear, alone can comprehend this saying. Thou hast a mindlike his, to feel and understand what music means. Listen!' Here heexecuted a piece of music at which the tears rose to my eyes. 'Thatis from the Romish Mass which we are taught ignorantly to despise.My child, I am, indeed, no Catholic, and I hold that ours is thepurer Church; yet, in losing the Mass, we have lost the great musicwith which the Catholics sustain their souls. Some of our anthems,truly, are good; but what is a single anthem, finished in tenminutes, compared with a grand Mass which lasts three hours?'

  '_We played together, he on the violoncello, I uponthe spinnet._']

  Then he had portfolios filled with engravings, which he would bringforth and contemplate with a kind of rapture, discoursing uponthe engraver's art and its difficulties, so that I should not, asis the case with ignorant persons, suppose that these things wereproduced without much training and skill. He had also boxes fullof coins, medals, and transparent gems carved most delicately withheathen gods and goddesses, shepherds and swains, after the ancientfashion, unclothed and unashamed. On these things he would gazewith admiration which he tried to teach me, but could not succeed,because I cannot believe that we may without blame look uponsuch figures. Nevertheless, they were most beautiful, the hands andfaces and the very hair so delicately and exquisitely carved thatyou could hardly believe it possible. And he talked solemnly andscholarly of these gauds, as if they were things which peculiarlydeserved the attention of wise and learned men. Nay, he would beeven lifted out of himself in considering them.

  'Child,' he said, 'we know not, and we cannot even guess, thewonders of art that in heaven we shall learn to accomplish'--asif carving and painting were the occupation of angels!--'or themiracles of beauty and of dexterity that we shall be able to designand execute. Here, the hand is clumsy and the brain is dull; wecannot rise above ourselves; we are blind to the beauty with whichthe Lord hath filled the earth for the solace of human creatures.Nay; we are not even tender with the beauty that we see and love. Wesuffer maidens sweet as the dreams of poets to waste their beautyunpraised and unsung. I am old, child, or I would praise thee inimmortal verse. Much I fear that thou wilt grow old without thepraise of sweet numbers. Well; there is no doubt more lasting beautyof face and figure hereafter to joy the souls of the elect. And thouwilt make his happiness for one man on earth. Pray Heaven, sweetchild, that he
look also to thine!'

  He would say such things with so grand an air, speaking as if hiswords should command respect, and with so kindly an eye and a softsmile, while he gently stroked the side of his nose, which waslong, that I was always carried away with the authority of it, andnot till after I left him did I begin to perceive that my fatherwould certainly never allow that the elect should occupy themselveswith the frivolous pursuits of painting and the fine arts, but onlywith the playing of their harps and the singing of praises. It wasthis consideration which caused him to consent that his daughtershould learn the spinnet. I did not tell him (God forgive me for thedeceit, if there was any!) that we sometimes played music writtenfor the Mass; nor did I repeat what Mr. Boscorel said concerning artand the flinging about of the Word of God, because my father waswholly occupied in controversy, and his principal, if not his only,weapon was the Word of God.

  Another pleasure which we had was to follow Humphrey in his travelsby the aid of his letters and a 'Mappa Mundi,' or atlas, which theRector possessed. Then I remember when we heard that the boys wereabout to ride together through France, from Montpellier to Leydenin Holland, we had on the table the great map of France. There weremany drawings, coats-of-arms, and other pretty things on the map.

  'It is now,' said Mr. Boscorel, finding out the place he wanted, andkeeping his forefinger upon it, 'nearly thirty years since I madethe grand tour, being then governor to the young Lord Silchester,who afterwards died of the Plague in London. Else had I been now aBishop, who am forgotten in this little place. The boys will ride,I take it, by the same road which we took: first, because it is thehigh road and the safest; next, because it is the best provided withinns and resting places; and, lastly, because it passes through thebest part of his Most Christian Majesty's dominions, and carriesthe traveller through his finest and most stately cities. FromMontpellier they will ride--follow my finger, child!--to Nismes.Before the Revocation it was a great place for those of the ReformedReligion, and a populous town. Here they will not fail to visit theRoman temple which still stands. It is not, indeed, such a noblemonument as one may see in Rome; but it is in good preservation, anda fair example of the later style. They will also visit the greatamphitheatre, which should be cleared of the mean houses which arenow built up within it, and so exposed in all its vastness to theadmiration of the world. After seeing these things they will directtheir way across a desolate piece of country to Avignon, passingon the way the ancient Roman aqueduct called the Pont de Gard. AtAvignon they will admire the many churches and the walls, and willnot fail to visit the palace of the Popes during the Great Schism.Thence they will ride northwards, unless they wish first to seethe Roman remains at Arles. Thence will they proceed up the Valleyof the Rhone, through many stately towns, till they come to Lyons,where, doubtless, they will sojourn for a few days. Next, they willjourney through the rich country of Burgundy, and from the ancienttown of Dijon will reach Paris through the city of Fontainebleau.On the way they will see many noble houses and castles, with richtowns and splendid churches. In no country are there more splendidchurches, built in the Gothic style, which we have now forgotten.Some of them, alas! have been defaced in the wars (so-called ofReligion), where, as happened also to us, the delicate carved work,the scrolls and flowers and statues were destroyed, and the paintedwindows broken. Alas! that men should refuse to suffer Art to becomethe minister and handmaid of Religion! Yet in the first and mostglorious temple, in which the glory of the Lord was visibly present,there were carved and graven lilies, with lions, oxen, chariots,cherubim, palm-trees and pomegranates.'

  He closed his atlas and sat down.

  'Child,' he said, meditating, 'for a scholar, in his youth, there isno pleasure comparable with the pleasure of travelling in strangecountries, among the monuments of ancient days. My own son didnever, to my sorrow, desire the pleasant paths of learning, anddid never show any love for the arts, in which I have always takenso great delight. He desireth rather the companionship of men; heloveth to drink and sing; and he nourisheth a huge ambition. 'Tisbest that we are not all alike. Humphrey should have been my son.Forget not, my child, that he hath desired to be remembered to theein every letter which he hath written.'

  If the Rector spoke much of Humphrey, Madam made amends by talkingcontinually of Robin, and of the great things that he would do whenhe returned home. Justice of the Peace, that he would certainlybe made; Captain first and afterwards Colonel in the SomersetMilitia, that also should he be; Knight of the Shire, if he wereambitious--but that I knew he would never be; High Sheriff of theCounty, if his slender means permitted--for the estate was not worthmore than five or six hundred pounds a year. Perhaps he would marryan heiress: it would be greatly to the advantage of the family if anheiress were to come into it with broad acres of her own; but shewas not a woman who would seek to control her son in the matter ofhis affections, and if he chose a girl with no fortune to her back,if she was a good girl and pious, Madam would never say him nay. Andhe would soon return. The boy had been at Oxford and next in London,learning law, such as Justices require. He was now with Humphrey atthe University of Leyden, doubtless learning more law.

  'My dear,' said Madam, 'we want him home. His grandfather growethold, though still, thank God! in the full possession of hisfaculties. Yet a young man's presence is needed. I trust and praythat he will return as he went, innocent, in spite of the manytemptations of the wicked city. And, oh! child--what if he shouldhave lost his heart to some designing city hussy!'

  He came--as you shall hear immediately--Robin came home. Would toGod that he had waited, if only for a single month! Had he not comeall our afflictions would have been spared us! Had he not come thatgood old man, Sir Christopher----but it is vain to imagine whatmight have been. We are in the hands of the Lord; nothing thathappens to us is permitted but by Him, and for some wise purpose wasSir Christopher in his old age--alas! why should I anticipate what Ihave to narrate?