The Loyalists, Vol. 1-3

by Mrs. West

  CHAP. VI.

  He could not bear the slightest mention of the incorrigible guilt of the nation without dissolving into tears; especially when he happened to advert unto the impudence of that hypocrisy which reconciled goodness and villainy, and made it possible for men to be saints and devils both together; whereby religion became ruinous to itself, and faith became instructed to confute and baffle duty.

  Bishop Fell's Life of Dr. Henry Hammond.

  Morgan could not soon forgive the insult of being contradicted andconfuted when seated on the magisterial bench; nor could Davies pardonthe attack on the holy Covenant, and the principles on which it wasfounded. They jointly determined, therefore, to take the firstopportunity of exciting the villagers to acts of violence, that mighteither provoke Dr. Beaumont to some step on which an accusation toParliament might be founded, or drive him away through fear for hispersonal safety. A public rejoicing was ordained on account of thefleet's declaring against the King; and Morgan's liberality to thepopulace spread a general intoxication through the town, which Davieshoped, at such a good time, might be overlooked.

  Since the death of Mrs. Beaumont the Doctor had mixed little with theworld, seeking, in his library and clerical functions, that calmtranquillity and self-sustained content which constitute all the earthlyenjoyment that remains to a heart that has once been happy. The lateungrateful, rebellious behaviour of his flock tended still more tocircumscribe his pleasures; yet though the painful feelings of rejectedkindness and undeserved contumely made his village walks and sacerdotalfunctions a penance instead of a gratification, he considered theprobability of disappointment as no apology for relaxing his endeavoursto do good. The morning and evening sacrifices were offered in thetemple; the ignorant were instructed, the bad reproved, and the decentcommended with his wonted zeal and meekness, though only his own familyand dependants joined in his orisons, though the foolish and the guiltylaughed at his exhortations, and the well-disposed could derive nostimulus to perseverance from his praise. Satisfied with labouringfaithfully in his vocation, the good man committed his cause to God, andfound, in the refreshing recollections of self-satisfaction, and in thecalm repose that followed a harassing day, spent in the performance ofhis manifold duties, a reward which might be termed a foretaste ofheaven.

  He had many true enjoyments of which the malice of his foes could notdeprive him; such were, the steady affection of his sister, the gradualimprovement of his daughter, and the philosophical and literary regalewhich his library afforded. The contests to which he was exposed, whenhe went out, rather grieved than irritated him; and he returned to hisbooks and experiments to raise his spirits, not to allay the ferment ofhis passions. He cared little for exteriors; he knew his body couldsubsist without the vanities and luxuries of the world; and he dependedon the promise, that the righteous should not be utterly forsaken.During his seclusion from society, he had cultivated and improved thepowers of that never-dying mind which was destined to expatiate for everamid the unveiled glories of creation, and to enjoy, after itsprobationary trials in this laborious world, a Sabbath of endless rest.

  Mrs. Mellicent often advised him to remove from this disaffectedneighbourhood, and seek the protection of the King's quarters; but Dr.Beaumont always strenuously insisted, that the period of his usefulnesson his present station must not be determined by himself. Theconversation was renewed on the night appointed for rejoicing, when theriotous exultation of the villagers disturbed the tranquillity whichused to reign at the Rector's fire-side. "Fear," said he to his sister,"magnifies danger. At present, nothing has happened to prevent mycontinuing where I am now fixed in the cure of souls; and when my Masterprescribes my dismissal, he will send some awakening providence thatshall indicate his will. Report magnifies every thing, especially thefoul language of our enemies, and often changes dissensions into feuds.I know not how long my residing here may be useful to others, nor whom Imay yet be able to reclaim, by shewing that I can bear injury andencounter opposition without renouncing my own principles, orcalumniating my opponents; but this I know, I am labouring at my postlike a faithful subject, and had all men done the same, our good Kingwould not now have been seen snatching his meal under a hedge like acommon mendicant, nor would the great seal of England have had to besecretly carried to him like the booty of a cut-purse.

  "The King's quarters, my dear Mellicent, will be filled with thosecourt-flies who fed on the goodly vine till they had sucked all itsjuices, and, now winter is come, care not for its nakedness, but seeksome covert where they may skulk till summer returns. You and I shouldmake a notable appearance among those who call splendor, life; andsubtlety, knowledge; we could neither speak their language nor enterinto their views.--While we pined with desire to see the beauty ofholiness restored, and the King's throne re-erected in judgment, theywould be moaning for their masques and revels; for the royal grants andlargesses; for their past enjoyments and present privations.--Or,perhaps, they would be scheming how they might creep into the confidenceof the Parliament, while we wept the desolation of Zion. When the Churchreposes in safety, gladdened by the favours of her spiritual bridegroom,let her officials then fear lest a worldly spirit should seize on themunawares, and convert them into hirelings more intent on the wages thanon the service. Our enemies say such have been the effects of the longprosperity we have enjoyed; if so, a purifying fire must go forth amongthe sons of Levi. The dross will be consumed, but trust me, Mellicent,our venerable mother will rise like a phoenix, not consumed, butrenewed and consecrated by the ordeal of adversity."

  Mrs. Mellicent here reminded him, that he had other ties beside that ofa Christian pastor, and she pointed to the young Constantia, who,overcome with watching, had fallen asleep in the great wicker-chair."Look at that girl," said she; "consider her warm heart, and meltingsensibility, her unusual beauty, delicate frame and tender years.Surely, brother, she wants a father, as much as the Church of England afriend."

  Dr. Beaumont turned his head, recollected his lost Alicia at that age,and thanked Heaven that she had "safely passed the waves of thistroublesome world." "Had Rogers or Taylor, my dear sister," said he,"been drawn to the earth by such a magnet, we should have lost thoseshining examples of true fortitude, and should have gone on, stillstumbling in the darkness of papacy.--The torch of truth was kindled atthe penal fires which consumed the martyrs, and its light illuminateddistant ages and nations. He who bears the sacred character ofambassador of God should constantly remember that all other titles yieldto its glorious superiority. It was the boast of the church of Rome,that her clergy acted not as individuals aiming at their own benefit,but as a compacted body actuated by one impulse and towards one object,the advantage and supremacy of the church. For this end they fed thepoor at the convent-gates, the monastery was an asylum to the afflicted,and the middle orders were conciliated by that lenient treatment whichprocured them respect as mild masters and most indulgent landlords. At atime when tyranny and rapacity reigned in the castle, the clergy were achain binding the great to their inferiors. We know by what unnaturalrestraints the Romish clergy were made thus superior to privateinterest, but let us not give them cause to say, that celibacy isnecessary to prevent the man of God from becoming a man of the world.The ties of nature which he owns in common with others, must notsupersede those duties which bind him to his congregation. He does notprofess, like the priest at mass, to be a mediator between God and man,but he pleads to the rich in behalf of poverty; to the powerful forthose who require protection. He instructs the indigent to be grateful;he stops the arm of oppression; he curbs avarice, by reminding it of thestate where riches avail not; he comforts affliction, by proving thattemporal distress, however great, may be supported. Our calling requiresus thus to preach, and shall not our lives be a living comment on ourdoctrines? Shall our conversation prove that our unsanctified hearts aredevoted to sensuality and aggrandisement, that we hold the censers withunhallowed hands, and in reality love the riches and
pleasures which inour pulpits we affect to renounce."

  "You have wandered from the subject, my good brother," said Mrs.Mellicent; "I was not talking of riches and pleasures, but of preservinga father for a poor girl, who, if any evil befall you, will have noprotector. It is a long time since we heard from the mountains, andIsabel's last letter gave no hope that poor Evellin would ever be ableeven to take care of himself. She says that their dwelling iscomfortable, their farm equal to their support, and that the disturbersof the world have not got among them. She writes cheerfully, but herwriting is much altered. I was thinking we might take shelter therewhenever those awakening providences, which my forebodings tell me areat hand, shall compel you to own that you are discharged from the careof ungrateful Ribblesdale."

  The conversation was interrupted by Dame Humphreys, who rushed abruptlyinto the house, lamenting that things should come to this pass, andconjuring his reverence not to think any of her family were concerned init. It was with difficulty that her agitation permitted her to state,that a mob bent on mischief were coming to the rectory; whether thehouse or the life of the pastor was threatened she could not discover,but the purport of her visit was to put them on their guard. A riotouscrowd, inflamed alike with liquor and fanaticism, is a formidable objectto the most determined courage; but escape was now impossible, andremonstrance would be utterly unavailing; there was only time to put upthe slight fastenings to the doors and windows, which, as theycorresponded to the peaceful and unsuspecting character of the owner ofthe mansion, could not long resist the infuriate attack of the besottedpopulace.

  But their rage was pointed at another object, the Doctor's library,which was placed in a detached building in the garden, and fell anundefended sacrifice to their rage. The voice of Davies was heard,encouraging the destruction of a treasure which he had long envied, andthe flames soon afforded him sufficient light to point out the objectsof his particular abhorrence to which his ignorance gave false orexaggerated descriptions. A cast of Apollo destroying Python, he termedMoses and the brazen serpent, and named himself the Hezekiah who wouldbreak it in pieces and call it Nehushtan. "See, my Christian brethren,"said he, "how truly I spake when I called this slumbering watchman, thisdumb dog, a worshipper of idols of wood and stone. This is his oratory;but instead of a godly laboratory which should turn carnal lead intospiritual gold, what see we but provocatives to sinful thoughts. Hereare no sackcloth and ashes, camel's hair and leathern girdles; thisprophet's chamber has its silks and sattins, stuffed cushions andcurtains, screens and wrapping gowns. The walls are hung with paintingsof fair Jezebels, whom he calls Mary and Magdalen, though it is wellknown, they were godly women, who never braided their hair or put ongorgeous apparel. See you that bust? It represents Diana of theEphesians, the very Diana who endangered Paul's life; and did I notrightly call this malignant priest Alexander the copper-smith? And hereare necromancing figures," (taking up the Doctor's mathematicalexercises,) "squares and triangles, and the sun, moon and stars, whichJob said he never worshipped.--And here is that unrighteous Babylonishinstrument, an organ, which proves he is either a Jew or a Papist, asnone but the favourers of abominable superstition make dumb devicesspeak, when they might chaunt holy psalms and hymns with their ownvoices. And here are similitudes of Nero and Domitian, bloodypersecutors, my brethren; which shews that he loved tyrants, and wouldhave made us fry a faggot, had not the light of my preaching broke inupon his darkness, and made him like a rat with a bell, a scarecrow tothe unconverted. Touch not his books, dearly beloved, they will provethe Devil's bird-lime, teaching you to despise my godly ministry; theywill teach you nothing but Pagan fables or Romish ceremonies. CanAristotle preach the Gospel? Do those church-histories tell us aboutsaving faith? I tell you nay; therefore burn them altogether, and breakthe idols in pieces, and tear away the paintings, and demolish theJewish instruments that send forth sounds of levity when the player uponthem is disposed to provoke his hearers to wanton dances and vain mirth.So let us purify the place with fire, that the slumbering watchman maybe awakened to a consideration of his offences and learn to repent," &c.&c.

  An harangue so well adapted to inflame the minds of a drunken mob,produced a destruction as complete as Davies could desire, in whose mindzeal had produced a similar intoxication. At this instant Mr. Morganarrived with a band of constables to protect Dr. Beaumont and hisproperty. As the rescue came too late, the magistrate conceived it to behis duty to reprove the rioters, and dismiss them with an assurance,that if ever they again presumed to let their holy joy at the prosperityof the good cause stimulate them to actions which the law did notjustify, he must resort to severer measures than censuring theirmisconduct. He then advised them to go quietly to their own houses, andas it was their first offence, he would endeavour to soften theirbehaviour to the commissioners whom Parliament had appointedconservators of the peace of the county.

  He now inquired after the health of the family, sent in his service tothe Doctor, and expressed his intention of coming in to comfort him inhis misfortunes. Every drop of Mrs. Mellicent's blood rushed into herface at the effrontery of his proposal, and the familiar terms in whichit was couched; but her brother begged her to consider that since nogood could arise from appearing to feel an insult which they had notpower to punish, the best way would be to seem to regard it in anotherlight; Morgan therefore was admitted.

  He began with expressing his concern for Dr. Beaumont's pecuniary loss,and inquired at what sum he valued his books and paintings. The Doctoranswered, he would endeavour to make out an estimate, which he wouldpresent at the quarter-sessions, and pray for indemnification. He added,the severest part of his loss consisted in manuscripts and othervaluables, inconceivably precious to himself, but of which (as moneywould not replace them) he should say nothing.

  "My mother's picture and letters," said Constantia, lifting her headfrom Mrs. Mellicent's bosom, where she had sunk, from the extremelanguor that succeeded the violent hysterics into which the terrors ofthis alarming night had thrown her. A more lovely or interesting objectcould scarcely be conceived than this charming girl, just ripening intowoman, her mind mature beyond her years, and her heart agitated by thefinest feelings of filial distress. Morgan gazed with involuntaryapprobation, while she threw her glossy ringlets from her face with onehand, and held out the other to welcome one whom she thought a pityingfriend and protector of her father.

  Mrs. Mellicent hastily snatched back the offered hand, and whispered,"Hush! child, you will bring on a return of your fits."

  Morgan distended his broad face with a smile, which looked extremelylike a grin, and talked of Dr. Beaumont's happiness in possessing whatwould always put him in mind of his wife. He then enlarged on thecrosses and losses people often met with, and on the duties of patienceand content. He made a swift transition to his own prosperous situation;declared when he began business he but just knew how to read and write,and had only a quire of paper and a case of pens; yet he was now worthten thousand pounds. He thought the world would be a very good one assoon as a few lordlings were pulled down, such, for instance, as theEarl of Derby, who turned up his nose at people of fortune, andprevented even him from hunting on his manors, though exercise was goodfor his health, and he was very fond of hare and partridge. He talked ofthe influence he possessed at the quarter-sessions; assured Dr. Beaumonthe would use it in his favour; then shaking Constantia by the hand, badeher not spoil her pretty face with crying, and thus concluded his_friendly_ visit.

  "A vulgar knave," said Mrs. Mellicent, pushing-to the door. "Suchvisitors are more provoking than loss of property. If you are of mymind, brother, you will lose every shilling sooner than owe retributionto the son of your father's shoemaker."

  Dr. Beaumont answered that since he was intrusted with a delegation ofthe King's authority, he should, as long as he ostensibly preserved hisallegiance, look at the magistrate instead of the man; but as toreceiving any favour from him, he was perfectly easy on that score,being sure he did not mean to shew him any. "I owe it t
o my owncharacter, and to my child's interest," continued he, "to apply forredress, but I look upon this as the first of many misfortunes which,these convulsed times will bring upon me. When the head suffersgrievously, the members must be indisposed. I should blush to be exemptfrom the misfortunes which weigh down my King."

  A few days restored the Beaumont family to tranquillity; devotionalexercises, and the resources of an enlarged mind, preserved the Doctorfrom sinking into depression. Constantia, ashamed of her want offortitude, strained every nerve to imitate her father, though in herefforts to amuse him, the involuntary tears which her weakness could notrestrain, excited in his breast more painful feelings than the malice ofhis enemies had power to occasion. Mrs. Mellicent was fully occupied bythe villagers, many of whom were hurt at the riot, but as they happenedto be (according to their own report) all belonging to the harmlessclass of lookers-on, her cordial waters, lotions, and plaisters, were ina constant state of requisition; this, added to the indispensable dutyof scolding them for not keeping in their own houses when such mischiefwas afloat, kept her tongue and hands in continual action.

  One night, as the Doctor was dismissing his household afterfamily-prayers, with his usual exhortation, "to faint not, neither beweary in well-doing;" the trampling of horses was heard at the gate, andfour strangers craved his hospitality. A gentleman muffled in ariding-coat, whose voice and figure recalled indistinct recollections,introduced a tall ingenuous-looking youth, a blooming girl, and a personhabited as a servant. "We are of the King's party," said the gracefulstranger; "and need no other recommendation to Dr. Beaumont for anight's lodging. Besides myself, a broken gentleman, here are a poor boyand girl, benumbed with fatigue, and an old-fashioned servant, who willnot leave a ruined master." At hearing these words, Mrs. Mellicentrushed to the door, to assure them that the beds were well-aired.Constantia flew to assist in serving up supper; the Doctor lifted theyoung people from their horses, and all were in a few minutes assembledin his parlor.

  "Allow me, Sir, to help off your coat," said Mrs. Mellicent; "and mydear young lady, draw nearer the fire.--Your face reminds me of somewhom I well knew. When the King kept court at Oxford, I spent a winterthere; could I have known your mother?"--"You knew her well," said theagonized stranger. "Dear Eusebius, have you forgot me?" "No, Evellin,"replied Dr. Beaumont, folding the man of sorrows to his bosom, "Where isour Isabel?"--"In Heaven!" replied he, "and has left these treasures tothe keeping of a crazed wanderer, who has no other portion than hissword, no relic of his former self but his honour."

  Tears and embraces followed; even Mrs. Mellicent wept as she alternatelyclasped Eustace and Isabel to her heart. Her first care was todistinguish who they were like; and in their blended resemblance to bothparents, she explained the confused ideas of recollection which herniece had excited at her first appearance. She then went out to see thatdue care was taken of Williams; nor were the horses forgotten, for theybelonged to a gentleman and a Loyalist, and had conveyed to her arms theprecious offspring of her beatified sister.

  Eustace, Isabel, and Constantia, scarce needed the bond of kindred toensure affection. Their ages, habits, manners, and principles, so wellaccorded, that their liking was instantaneous. The only difference was,that the young Evellins, "bred on the mountain's rough side," inured toseverer trials, and exercised in a daily course of rigid duty, displayedan energy and self-dependence which agreeably contrasted the polishedsweetness and feminine sensibility of Constantia Beaumont. Isabel was anadmirable herbalist, and expert in supplying all the wants of a secludedfamily; robust with health and exercise, yet neither coarse in herperson, vulgar in her manners, nor sordid in her mind. Constantia wasmistress of every elegant accomplishment; she painted, sung, touched thelute with exquisite sweetness; melted at every tale of woe; loved allthe world except her father's enemies, and was willing, as far as herslender frame permitted, to perform the lowest offices that wouldpromote the welfare of others. Eustace was a year older than the girls,and just on the verge of fifteen, tall, and manly in mind and person,panting for enterprize, full of hope that he was able to correct thedisorders of the times, and sure that his name would be recorded in theannals of his country, as one who loved his church and his King, andhated the Roundheads and Fanatics. He soon drew the attention of hishearers by wishing he had been at Ribblesdale on the night of the riot,vowing he would have beat the whole party, and tossed Davies into theflames.

  Constantia smiled for a moment, and then shuddered at the idea of thesuggested torture. "I make no doubt he would," said Isabel, "and thenhave rushed in himself to pull the villain out again."

  "But my dear Eustace," inquired Constantia, "what are you to be?"

  "A soldier to be sure," replied the boy. "Have you not heard that theKing has set up his standard at Nottingham. My father has parted withour farm, and raised a levy of troops among the mountaineers, and he isgoing to follow them to the King, with all the money he has left, excepta little which he leaves for Isabel."

  "I tell you, brother," returned the sister, "we will dispute that pointno longer. The King is to have every shilling; for I know how to supportmyself by my own labour."

  "She shall never do that while we have a house--Shall she, auntMellicent?" said Constantia.

  "No," returned the good lady; "honest people are now scarce, so we musttake care of each other. But, Eustace, does your father approve of yourturning soldier while you are such a child?"

  "No, dear aunt, and that is the only trouble I ever knew, except thedeath of our blessed mother. I don't know his reasons, but he wants toplace me in safety; I hate safety, it sounds so womanish. As we camealong I met several fellows less than myself, who said they wereensigns. I know I could make an ensign; I could wrap the colours roundmy body, and die with the staff in my hand."

  Constantia burst into tears, and declared Eustace talked so shockinglyshe could not bear it.

  "My pretty love," said he, "I did not mean to frighten you. No, Iintend, instead of being killed myself, to tear down the rebelstandards, and send them to you. What would you do with them?"

  Constantine paused a moment--"Would they," said she, "make a tent for mydear father to sit and read in? It goes to my heart to see him out ofdoors this stormy weather, wandering about and looking at his burntlibrary."

  "Could I not put it a little in repair while I stay?" inquired Eustace."I am a very good mason, and a tolerable carpenter. I built a shed lastyear for the old poney. Isabel, you can glaze the windows, andwhite-wash. I think, between us, we might put it into comfortableorder."

  Mrs. Mellicent, a little shocked at her niece's avowing her expertnessin these handicraft employments, apprehended that her lamented sisterhad neglected her daughter's education through her solicitous attentionto more important duties. She began therefore to question her about heraccomplishments--"Can you work tent-stitch neat, my love?" was her firstinquiry. "No!"--"Bless me, had you leather hangings to your bestapartments?" Isabel was ignorant what hangings meant. Mrs. Mellicentproceeded to examine her skill in confectionery, and found withastonishment it was a science of which she did not know the name. "Canyou paint chimney-boards, or cut paper, or work samplers?" "Dear aunt,"said Isabel, "I am a brown bird of the mountains, as my mother calledme. She taught me to sing, because she said it made work go on moremerrily, but the longest day was short enough for what I had to do; Iwas laundress, and sempstress, and cook, and gardener; and if Cicelywent to look for the sheep, I had to milk and bake, and at night Imended my father's fishing-nets, while I was learning Latin withEustace. Yet I got through all very well, till my mother fell sick, andthen I nursed and dressed her, as she lay helpless on the pallet. But ifI live with you, I will learn all your employments, for I am never happywhen I am idle, and my only wish is to be useful."

  "There is sterling worth in this rustic hoyden," thought Mrs. Mellicent,who, in contriving some occupation for so active a mind, recollectedthat Mrs. Beaumont's dressing-plate had not been cleaned lately, andundertook to make Isabel expert in f
urbishing the delicate filigree. Shecalled on Constantia to give up the key, it being considered as herproperty, who blushed, hesitated, begged not to be questioned on thesubject, and at last owned it was gone.

  "Gone! to whom?" "Dear aunt," returned Constantia, stealing a look atthe approving eye of Eustace, "I sent it to the King at York, as theonly contribution in my power. You must not be angry. My father and youset the example, by parting with all the money and valuables you couldcollect, and I thought it a bad excuse that, because I was under age, Imight not send my mite to assist him, so I packed it up with my mother'sjewels, and I am happy to say they got safe to His Majesty."

  Mrs. Mellicent tried to frown. "Foolish girl," said she, "you shouldhave kept the essence-box at least, as an heirloom. It was a presentfrom Henry the Seventh's Queen to your great grandmother's aunt, who washer maid of honour. There was the union of the two roses wrought uponit; the King, standing with a red rose in his hand, and the Queen with awhite, and a Bishop between them, and a large dove at the top, with anolive-branch in his mouth, so beautiful that it fell in festoons alldown the side. Well, I am thankful that I took off the pattern inchain-stitch. It will shew what good blood you spring from when peoplecome to be again valued for their families." Mrs. Mellicent retired toher chamber, secretly pleased with the dispositions of her young charge,and inclined to believe that a parcel of beggarly republicans could notlong domineer over such generous and aspiring minds.