The Loyalists, Vol. 1-3

by Mrs. West

  CHAP. XXIV.

  None but the guilty are long and completely miserable.

  Goldsmith.

  The convulsions which seized Lady Bellingham, at again beholding whatshe still supposed was the apparition of her brother, had a speedy andfatal termination. The apparent reconciliation between herself and herlord had been effected for the purpose of revenge. Their enmity was theinterminable feud of co-partners in iniquity, the hatred which everexists between the contriver and the executor of horrible enormities.Their mutual recriminations and accusations were suspended; theiraversion was made to look like grief, and they walked together into thecourt, as affectionate parents to prosecute the supposed murderer oftheir only child. But the sympathy which softens affliction, and evensoothes despair, was here unknown. Lady Bellingham's false views ofreligion had, indeed, so far skinned over the wounds of her ulceratedconscience, as to produce a stupefaction, which might last as long ashealth and prosperity continued. But when, what she conceived to be asupernatural visitation, had terrified her into a dangerousindisposition; the anchor of absolute election trembled in her grasp,and her bodily weakness was rapidly increased by the wild agonies a soulroused to a sense of its danger, when the bridegroom called and the lampof faith, unsupplied with good works, was extinguished. Her troubledspirit saw nothing but darkness in its future prospects, while, with adying voice, she continued imploring her physicians to save her life,and wondering why this judgment was fallen upon her.

  The most illiterate and presumptuous of the fanatical preachers crowdedround her bed, and by the canting verbiage of delusion strove to revivethe raptures of enthusiasm. Not one had the honesty to tell her that thefigure which so appalled her, was her living brother. They feared theassurance of his existence acting upon her present terrors might induceher to do an act of justice, and to make an effectual effort to restorehim to his ancient rights. They were equally silent as to the safety ofher son, and careful to keep her husband out of her apartment. It wastheir aim to prevail upon her to bequeathe her large possessions topromote the interests of their party. With the spirit of the falseprophets of old, they sounded in her ears, "The temple of the Lord."They reminded her of her prayers, alms, mortifications, and zeal for thegood cause. They required her to recollect the time and circumstances ofher conversion; the pangs she then suffered; her subsequent experiencesand convictions of having received saving grace. They proceeded, as theytermed it, to buffet Satan with prayers, while with impassioned hymnsthey endeavoured to awaken in the trembling sinner, the raptures ofdivine love. All sense of contrition for past offences, all dispositionto be reconciled to her lord was prevented by their assurances of hersafety, and their prayers for his conversion, which ran in the style ofcraving that he might no longer halt between two opinions, butrenouncing the fears of the carnal man be perfected in faith and love.Every Scripture narrative, which, by falsifying some circumstances,could be made to answer their purpose, was presented to her remembrance.The murder, adultery, and acceptance of David; the liberality of Solomonto the church; the preservation of Rahab the harlot from the generalmassacre of her people, on account of her saving faith; the supposedprofligacy of Magdalen's early life, atoned for by her sitting passiveat the feet of her Lord.--All these instances were produced to prove thefalse and scandalous tenet, that a course of sin was a betterpreparative to conversion than a life of comparative innocence.Arguments were bandied from tongue to tongue; each one cavilled at theassertions of the other, yet all united in the purpose of pacifying analarmed conscience, and changing despair into ill-founded confidence.The groans of Lady Bellingham, the consternation of her attendants, thefierce disputes of her ghostly assistants, occasionally suspended byejaculations and hymns, exhibited a scene of distracting confusion, inwhich it would have been impossible for the firmest mind to havepreserved its recollection. Lady Bellingham was soon induced to say thatshe knew she had once been in a state of grace, and this acknowledgementwas welcomed as her pass-port to heaven[1]. She was informed that hersalvation was unalienable; that grace could neither be resisted norforfeited, and that though the saints might appear to sin, yet theiroffences were not imputable to them.

  This pious conflict (for in an age when fanaticism and hypocrisy weremisnamed religion, these solemn mockeries passed for charitableassistance to the dying,) was interrupted by the presence of Monthault,now become the favourite and confidant of a chief leader of thefanatical party. This renegade-Loyalist had served Cromwell withconspicuous bravery in the Irish wars, and once, when a division of thearmy was thrown into great danger, by the retreat of the forlorn hope,before it had accomplished its purpose, he rushed forward, killed thecommanding officer with his own hand, and seizing the colours, led themback, undismayed, by a grove of pikes and a shower of missile weapons.With desperate but successful valour he carried the redoubt and escapedwith life. All this passed under the immediate observation of Cromwell,whose retentive memory never forgot any signal action, and whosediscriminating policy generally placed the man who performed it in asituation suited to his character. He soon found Monthault to be asperfidious and unprincipled as he was daring and ready to undertake anyoffice which would gratify his passions, which (being now past theheyday of youth) were diverted from licentious indulgence by the moresubstantial enjoyments of avarice and ambition.

  At this time Cromwell was secretly panting to add the name andparaphernalia of a King to the authority which he actually exercised.The fanatics, whom he had so long courted, were the most activeopponents of this project. The other sectaries had been long convinced,by experience, that their views of republican felicity and perfectionwere illusory. The respectable dissenters always professed themselvesfriends of a limited monarchy; many staunch royalists thought therenewal of kingly power would gradually turn the public eye on theirexiled Prince; and some selfish ones would have been content with suchan approach to the old order of things as would give them back theirsequestered estates. Some parties would be brought over by seeming tofall in with their views, others cajoled by bribing their leaders, butthe levellers and fanatics were invincible. They had been Cromwell'sagents in subduing his enemies, and a consciousness of their power madethem unmanageable; they were determined on owning no King but Jesus, andon thinking the regal title, when assumed by man, the mark of the beastand the seal of reprobation to its supporters. "The Protector'sson-in-law, Fleetwood, kneeled and prayed publickly, that the Lord mightspit in his face if the unrighteous mammon tempted him into this sin;and his brother Desborough anathematized him, and vowed to devote hisown sword to Charles Stewart sooner than to him, if he persevered inlonging for the forbidden spoil." Lambert, who was in the entireconfidence of these two, had seduced the affections of the army;Cromwell, therefore, had a difficult game to play. His passionate desireof royalty combated those secret fears that arose from a mysteriouswarning which he received when he first meditated on the designsafterwards realized by his lucky and unprincipled ambition. A vision, orday-dream, impressed his enthusiastic imagination, detailing the stepsby which he was to rise, and assuring him, "that he should be thegreatest man in England, and near being King." Yet, though this seemedto warn him of an impassable bound to his greatness, the pageant ofroyalty which he had so often vilified and derided, on a close viewappeared so irresistible, that he became enchanted with itsfascinations, till, in aiming at the decorations of power, he nearlysacrificed the substance.

  At this juncture the daring character and versatility of Monthaultmarked him out to the Protector as a proper instrument to negotiate withLambert, whose talents were far more dangerous than the fanaticism ofFleetwood or Desborough's virulence. It was plain that though Monthaultwore the enlarged phylacteries and sanctified demeanour of the sect hehad lately adopted, he was more a hypocrite than an enthusiast. It iswell known, that Cromwell found means to discover every private incidentin the lives of his agents, and thus penetrated into all their views.While pleading for the imprisoned Beaumonts,
the Protector read the soulof the former lover of Constantia, now known to be nearly allied to thetrue stock of the house of Bellingham. Cromwell therefore took occasionto commend the filial piety and courage which he heard that this younglady had exemplified; and declared himself resolved, not only to showDr. Beaumont favour, but also to consider the case of Neville;intimating, that he looked on an hereditary and uncontaminated nobilityas the strongest link between the people and the government; and fromthis acknowledgment he took occasion to glance at the benefit of apartial restoration of old usages, as most likely to unite all parties,and heal the wounds of the three kingdoms. The stress laid on the lastword, (the use of which had been for some time interdicted,) shewedMonthault what was expected from him, and he left the presence,persuaded that if he would assist to gird the austere brows of theUsurper with the kingly diadem, the hand of his mistress, and a largeportion of the Bellingham property, if not its reversionary honours,would be his reward.

  It was with a further view of securing this prize that Monthault visitedthe dying Lady Bellingham, to whom their party-connexions gave him freeaccess. Pretending he had received a special revelation, which he mustimpart to her alone, he dismissed the ministers, and assured her of theactual existence of her brother, whose pardon her again-alarmedconscience seemed most anxious to secure, even at the price ofrelinquishing to him those possessions which her increasing weaknesstold her she could not long retain. Monthault assured her it would begreatly for the benefit of her soul, if she would sign a deedbequeathing to Allan Neville the inheritance of their ancestors; andproduced a prepared instrument, which Lady Bellingham was not in a stateto read, or indeed to listen to its recital. Relying on the veracity ofone whom she considered as a saint upon earth, and catching eagerly atevery thing which would allay those inward terrors that had been ratherbenumbed than pacified, Lady Bellingham was induced to consent, and theministers were re-introduced to certify her being in a sound mind and towitness the execution of a deed, which they trusted was to promote thegood cause, but which in reality bequeathed the Bellingham estate, afterthe demise of Allan Neville, to Constantia Beaumont, provided sheconsented to marry Monthault. Thus cheated and bewildered in her lastmoments by those whom she believed to be endowed with super-humanperfections, this wretched woman terminated her miserable and guiltylife.

  Monthault's next care was, to discover if his apparent reformation ofmanners could so far impose on the simplicity and candour of theBeaumonts as to make them strain the principle of Christian forgiveness,and receive him as a friend. They were still in prison, but theProtector had given orders, that they should be provided with handsomeapartments, and every comfort compatible with confinement at the publicexpence. But though Monthault took on himself the merit of this lenienttreatment, the prejudices of the whole family against him formed aninsuperable bar to his designs. His change of conduct was too pointedlyobtrusive; his piety and penance too ostentatious to pass on a man whowas thoroughly conversant with the marks of genuine repentance. Dr.Beaumont did not approve of an elaborate and unnecessary disclosure ofthe secret enormities of his early life, which seemed to him more likethe wantonness of a depraved imagination wallowing in its formerabominations, than penitence shrinking, with horror, from itsrecollected transgressions. But when Monthault proceeded to talk of hispresent sinless rectitude, certainty of acceptance, rapturous exercises,and experiences of future beatification, (the common cant of thosetimes,) the sound divine saw the once audacious sinner covering hisadhesive wickedness with the Pharisee's cloak, exchanging libertinismfor spiritual pride, and the excesses of debauchery for ambition andmalevolence. Though no one was more adverse than Dr. Beaumont fromcolouring gross sins with the name of amiable frailties, he thoughtMonthault more horrible with his Scripture-appellative and precisehabits, than when as a drunken cavalier he toasted the King and theChurch, while he disgraced the one by his rapine, and the other by hisprofaneness.

  Monthault was equally unsuccessful with Constantia. In vain did heassure her that the awakening change in his soul had been expedited byhis yearnings after her. She coldly told him, she hoped for his sake thereformation was real. He assured her he had disposed the Protector tobefriend her relations. She thanked the Protector's justice, andrelapsed into silence. He spoke of the identity of her uncle as beingindisputable, and that he was likely soon to be removed from a prison toan earldom. She answered, that would be miraculous, but no irradiationof her countenance implied her belief that such an event was probable.He inquired if her cousin Isabel was still devoted to Sedley. Constantiacould here speak with energy, and replied, "She is." Monthault remindedher, that whatever became of his father, he was necessarily proscribed;having violated the bond of private friendship, as well as of publictrust, with the Protector. Constantia answered, that Isabel saw nothinginfamous in banishment or poverty, but much in breaking her early vowsto a man whose misfortunes were his praise. "But," replied Monthault,"your early vows have been dissolved by death; and celibacy is one ofthe popish snares of Satan. Marriage was divinely appointed, and it issinful to neglect the godly ordinance." "To marry with an unconsentingheart is more so," replied Constantia; "I was betrothed to EustaceEvellin, and living or dead, to him will I ever be faithful. His genuineintegrity, his frank affectionate disposition won all my heart; andsince I have lost him, I live only to the claims of filial duty andsisterly affection. I have been long familiarized with fear and sorrow,but hope and joy can only visit me in his form."

  Monthault told her, that this persevering regret was a mark of her beingin an unsanctified rebellious state. He quoted many texts to prove thatthe saints would eventually inherit the earth; declaring that thewonderful success which attended Cromwell, first pointed him out as aninstrument of Providence, designed for an especial purpose. Constantiaexpressed her belief that he was; but silenced Monthault's intendedallusions to a millennial state of felicity under his government, bydeclaring her conviction that he was the sword of vengeance, rather thanthe renovating sun of mercy.

  Monthault withdrew sullen and offended, planning schemes of vengeance,all pointed at Arthur de Vallance, whose retreat he determined todiscover. He questioned the keeper of the prison, who had access to theBeaumonts, and was by him directed to Jobson. His talkative simplicity,and the danger that would result from his being sifted by Cromwell'sspies, had obliged them to dispense with the services of the faithfultrooper, who now earned his bread by manual labour, and only cameoccasionally to inquire after their health. Though care was taken torepresent him as a porter occasionally employed, the jailor suspected hehad been an old servant. Monthault immediately recollected him asattached to Eustace a little before their separation at Dartmoor, andrecommended himself to the affectionate creature, by recognising him asone who leaped with him into the moat, and climbed the wall at his side,when Prince Rupert stormed Bristol. Taking him apart, he avowed himselfto be a stanch royalist, watching every opportunity to serve a cause hestill wore at his heart. He declared that he accepted the office of ajudge at Dr. Beaumont's trial, with a resolution of saving him; hepraised his firm demeanour, the beauty of Constantia, the goodness ofIsabel, and the noble self-devotedness of Neville; assuring Jobson, thathe was most sedulous in employing the interest he possessed with theProtector to the advantage of this family. But he lamented that thereexisted one obstacle to Neville's becoming Earl of Bellingham: theProtector's betrayed confidence required a victim, and Arthur deVallance must be given up to his vengeance.

  The honest countenance of Jobson fell at this information. "Ah, worthysir," said he, "there is no washing the black-a-moor white; Old Nollwill continue Old Noll, dress him up how you will. There's no putting aKing's heart into a scoundrel's body; and a tailor never yet made morethan the clothes of a gentleman. I say, the man that can't forgive abrave young gentleman, never ought to wear the crown of England. You hadhalf persuaded me to forget the true King beyond sea, and to think, asthis ruler would do justice, we might go on as we are, but when you talkabout harping on old grievance
s, and taking vengeance for privatefallings-out, I say, though Old Noll may do for a Lord-Protector, Kingsmust never have any enemies but the enemies of their country."

  Monthault, seeming to enter into his feelings, uttered many encomiums onyoung De Vallance, whom he said he really thought one of the finestgentlemen in England. "Aye, in England _now_, I grant you," returnedJobson; "but there is another before him, Mr. Eustace Evellin; we usedto call him the true Lord Sedley, for the other is but a make-believe.Very good-humoured and generous, and fair-spoken I allow; but the rightlord, O! he has an eye like a hawk, and so open and daring, andspirited--I wish, noble Sir, you had seen him."

  Monthault affected to brush a tear from his eye, lamenting that aninterview was now impossible. Jobson had an inveterate antipathy togiving any one pain, except in the field of battle. He caught Monthaultby his cloak, pressed him to be secret, and whispered he might have thatpleasure before he died. "Mum," said he, "for your life; Mr. Eustace isalive and merry, and only waits for the King's coming over to be amongus."

  Monthault vowed secresy, and readily drew from Jobson all he knewrespecting the preservation and subsequent history of the heir ofNeville. Fortunately, he had never been intrusted with the place oftheir retreat, and could only say, that he and De Vallance weresomewhere very safe, and ready to drub Old Noll into better manners thanauthorizing the shooting of men in cold blood.

  Monthault then informed Jobson, that he possessed a large fortune, andsecretly devoted ample remittances to the service of the King, and themost eminent Loyalists. As the state now liberally supported theprisoners, the exiles had the first claim on his purse. Unintentionallyhe feared, he had been of great disservice to Eustace, and thereforejustice, as well as humanity and admiration, pointed him out as thefirst person whom he ought to assist. He would most willingly sendJobson with a sum of money to these illustrious friends, and heentreated him to discover where they had taken shelter, and say he wascommissioned to supply their wants. But as he was ever attentive to therule of doing good in secret, his own name was, on no account, to bedivulged, nor would he press Jobson to inform him where the fugitivesresided. The language of loyalty, unostentatious generosity, and warmattachment to Eustace, was, to Jobson, a sure pledge of the honour andsincerity of Monthault. He readily promised to get the whole secret outof Mrs. Isabel, and discover none of his intentions. "I see, noble sir,"continued he, "you are a true gentleman, and know, that a gentleman likeyourself hates to be thought poor, and had rather starve than have moneygiven him; whereas we poor men never care how much we get from ourbetters. But trust me for managing the business cleverly."

  Happily for the exiles, Jobson was equally deficient in finesse andsecrecy. The first question he put to Isabel respecting the place oftheir retreat, discovered that he had a mysterious reason for wishing tobe informed, and she soon drew from him that the benevolent unknown wasa tall, solemn gentleman, who turned up the whites of his eyes, and wasdressed like a round-head, though a stanch Loyalist in his heart. Thisdescription, so applicable to Monthault, excited her liveliest terrors.It was impossible to convince Jobson, that a man who talked so kindlycould have any insidious design; and thinking it best not to combat thisdelusion, she thought it expedient to misdirect the wily traitor, andobserved, that the inhabitants of the mountainous parts of Cumberland,where she and her father had so long lived, were well affected to theKing, and disposed to shelter and protect her brother. From the mannerin which Jobson communicated this intelligence, Monthault was convincedthat Isabel had penetrated into his designs; and he resolved to suspendhis machinations till he could extort, by terror, what intrigue hadfailed to procure.

  When Isabel communicated this intelligence to her friends, theirapprehensions of some fatal snare which might blast all their hopes,determined them to send the faithful and discreet Williams to theexiles, advising them of Cromwell's designs to get them into his power,and entreating them immediately to quit their present abode. But whitherto point for a safe retreat was the difficulty, since at that time thisextraordinary man seemed to extend the scorpion fangs of his tyrannyover the continent, as well as the British dominions. He had, at everycourt, not only an accredited minister, but a subordinate host of spiesliberally paid, who gave him an account of every stranger of distinctionthat sought a refuge from his cruelty, and contrived also, by falseaccusations or threats to the affrighted sovereigns, to have the victimshe had marked for destruction delivered into his power. Cromwell hadformerly made a close league with the Queen of Sweden, between whosesuccessor and his neighbour the King of Denmark, a furious contest hadcommenced. As all hope of serving his native Prince was for the presentsuspended, Neville advised his son to draw his sword for the royal Dane,and Williams was charged with many affectionate remembrances. "Tell myson," said he, "never to disgrace the name, to which, at hazard of mylife, I have proved his title." Constance whispered a tender assurancethat the tidings of his preservation had reconciled her to life. "Yettell my Eustace," said she, "that though time and sorrow have so changedthe face he used to admire, that he would now hardly know his Constance,they have improved the heart, which neither calumny, nor suspence, nordespair, could alienate from its only love." Isabel, too, had a briefencouraging remembrance for her lover: "Tell my De Vallance," said she,"I live for him and for happier times. Bid him remember me in the hourof peril and the moment of temptation; assure him I count the years ofour separation, and endure my present sorrows in the confidence thatthey will serve for sweet discourses in the time to come." The messageof Dr. Beaumont was pious and prudential.--He rejoiced that anopportunity was afforded them of serving a Protestant King, and headvised them, if their successful services allowed them an honourableestablishment in Denmark, to withdraw their views, though not their loveor their prayers, from England.

  Charged with these endearing recollections Williams departed, but on hisarrival at Jersey found the fugitives had long left the island. Theirprotectress was dead, and her husband had removed to the South ofFrance. Dr. Lloyd was well remembered for his medical skill, and hispupils for their correct manners and exemplary friendship. A lady,daughter of one of the first people in St. Helier, had formed a strongattachment to one of the gentlemen, and as she left the island about thetime they did, it was supposed a marriage had been solemnized. Williamsdurst not be very minute in his inquiries; he gathered however that theplace of their retreat could not be discovered, though the friends ofthe lady had taken every measure to regain her.

  This intelligence greatly increased the dejection of Constantia, andalmost clouded the sanguine mind of Isabel. "Has mutability," she wouldoften say, "entirely usurped the earth? No. Inanimate nature is notchanged; the sun-beams steal through these grated windows at the samehour this year as they did last. Summer and winter, day and night,return at stated periods; the animal organs present the same objects,and excite the usual sensations; nor are my moral feelings altered;truth and honour continue to delight me; vice and falsehood are asodious to my soul as if good men still triumphed, and guilt held itsalliance with infamy. Yet are not subjects transformed into traitors andrebels; lovers forsworn; do not Christians renounce their baptism andabjure their faith; and is not friendship become a cloak to conceal theinformer and assassin? Whom shall we acquit of inconstancy, if eitherEustace or De Vallance are false? How shall we depicture fidelity andhonour if they dwell not in the open front of heroic candour, or themild suavity of undeviating rectitude? Away!--the report of Williams isa gossip's tale, forged to explain a mystery of their own forming.Constance, I shall live to arrange your jewels and fold your robe, whenyou walk at the coronation as Countess of Bellingham, and you shall besponsor to my little Arthur. At least I will cherish these day-dreams,till I know Cromwell has done a disinterested generous action; I willthen resign you to Monthault, and employ myself in clear-starching andcrimping bands for the conventicle."

  Thus rallying her own spirits, and endeavouring to animate the hopes ofothers, Isabel contrived to lighten the burden of voluntary captivity
,as she had used to alleviate the hardships of poverty. Her mind, equallyfirm and innocent, feared nothing but the reproaches of her conscienceand the despair of her father. Happy in the resources of an activedisposition, she soon convinced Constantia that even confinement doesnot proscribe utility. While Dr. Beaumont administered to the spiritualwants of his fellow-prisoners, Isabel contrived to promote theircomforts, often with the labours of her hand, always by the un-failingcordial of her hilarity, and sometimes with her slender purse,cheerfully abridging her own wants to supply the need of others. Nor wasshe wholly disinterested in this conduct; she found it the best methodof diverting anxiety and suppressing doubt; of resisting thatmisanthropy which a long continuance of adversity is apt to engender inthe tenderest hearts; and of preserving those social feelings of generalgood-will, which, to austere dispositions, render even prosperitydistasteful.

  [1] Many of these circumstances are copied from the death of Cromwell.