The History of Henry Esmond, Esq., a Colonel in the Service of Her Majesty Queen Anne

by William Makepeace Thackeray

  CHAPTER VIII.

  FAMILY TALK.

  What Harry admired and submitted to in the pretty lad his kinsman was(for why should he resist it?) the calmness of patronage which my younglord assumed, as if to command was his undoubted right, and all theworld (below his degree) ought to bow down to Viscount Castlewood.

  "I know my place, Harry," he said. "I'm not proud--the boys atWinchester College say I'm proud: but I'm not proud. I am simply FrancisJames Viscount Castlewood in the peerage of Ireland. I might have been(do you know that?) Francis James Marquis and Earl of Esmond in that ofEngland. The late lord refused the title which was offered to him bymy godfather, his late Majesty. You should know that--you are of ourfamily, you know you cannot help your bar sinister, Harry, my dearfellow; and you belong to one of the best families in England, in spiteof that; and you stood by my father, and by G--! I'll stand by you.You shall never want a friend, Harry, while Francis James ViscountCastlewood has a shilling. It's now 1703--I shall come of age in 1709.I shall go back to Castlewood; I shall live at Castlewood; I shall buildup the house. My property will be pretty well restored by then. The lateviscount mismanaged my property, and left it in a very bad state.My mother is living close, as you see, and keeps me in a way hardlybefitting a peer of these realms; for I have but a pair of horses, agovernor, and a man that is valet and groom. But when I am of age, thesethings will be set right, Harry. Our house will be as it should be. Youwill always come to Castlewood, won't you? You shall always have yourtwo rooms in the court kept for you; and if anybody slights you, d---them! let them have a care of ME. I shall marry early--Trix will be aduchess by that time, most likely; for a cannon ball may knock over hisgrace any day, you know."

  "How?" says Harry.

  "Hush, my dear!" says my Lord Viscount. "You are of the family--you arefaithful to us, by George, and I tell you everything. Blandford willmarry her--or"--and here he put his little hand on his sword--"youunderstand the rest. Blandford knows which of us two is the best weapon.At small-sword, or back-sword, or sword and dagger if he likes; I canbeat him. I have tried him, Harry; and begad he knows I am a man not tobe trifled with."

  "But you do not mean," says Harry, concealing his laughter, but not hiswonder, "that you can force my Lord Blandford, the son of the first manof this kingdom, to marry your sister at sword's point?"

  "I mean to say that we are cousins by the mother's side, though that'snothing to boast of. I mean to say that an Esmond is as good as aChurchill; and when the King comes back, the Marquis of Esmond's sistermay be a match for any nobleman's daughter in the kingdom. There arebut two marquises in all England, William Herbert Marquis of Powis, andFrancis James Marquis of Esmond; and hark you, Harry,--now swear youwill never mention this. Give me your honor as a gentleman, for you AREa gentleman, though you are a--"

  "Well, well?" says Harry, a little impatient.

  "Well, then, when after my late viscount's misfortune, my mother wentup with us to London, to ask for justice against you all (as for Mohun,I'll have his blood, as sure as my name is Francis Viscount Esmond)--wewent to stay with our cousin my Lady Marlborough, with whom we hadquarrelled for ever so long. But when misfortune came, she stood by herblood:--so did the Dowager Viscountess stand by her blood,--so didyou. Well, sir, whilst my mother was petitioning the late Prince ofOrange--for I will never call him king--and while you were in prison, welived at my Lord Marlborough's house, who was only a little there, beingaway with the army in Holland. And then . . . I say, Harry, you won'ttell, now?"

  Harry again made a vow of secrecy.

  "Well, there used to be all sorts of fun, you know: my Lady Marlboroughwas very fond of us, and she said I was to be her page; and she got Trixto be a maid of honor, and while she was up in her room crying, we usedto be always having fun, you know; and the Duchess used to kiss me, andso did her daughters, and Blandford fell tremendous in love with Trix,and she liked him; and one day he--he kissed her behind a door--he didthough,--and the Duchess caught him, and she banged such a box of theear both at Trix and Blandford--you should have seen it! And then shesaid that we must leave directly, and abused my mamma who was cognizantof the business; but she wasn't--never thinking about anything butfather. And so we came down to Walcote. Blandford being locked up, andnot allowed to see Trix. But I got at him. I climbed along the gutter,and in through the window, where he was crying.

  "'Marquis,' says I, when he had opened it and helped me in, 'you know Iwear a sword,' for I had brought it.

  "'Oh, viscount,' says he--'oh, my dearest Frank!' and he threw himselfinto my arms and burst out a-crying. 'I do love Mistress Beatrix so,that I shall die if I don't have her.'

  "'My dear Blandford,' says I, 'you are young to think of marrying;' forhe was but fifteen, and a young fellow of that age can scarce do so, youknow.

  "'But I'll wait twenty years, if she'll have me,' says he. 'I'llnever marry--no, never, never, never, marry anybody but her. No, not aprincess, though they would have me do it ever so. If Beatrix will waitfor me, her Blandford swears he will be faithful.' And he wrote a paper(it wasn't spelt right, for he wrote 'I'm ready to SINE WITH MY BLODE,'which, you know, Harry, isn't the way of spelling it), and vowing thathe would marry none other but the Honorable Mistress Gertrude BeatrixEsmond, only sister of his dearest friend Francis James, fourth ViscountEsmond. And so I gave him a locket of her hair."

  "A locket of her hair?" cries Esmond.

  "Yes. Trix gave me one after the fight with the Duchess that very day.I am sure I didn't want it; and so I gave it him, and we kissed atparting, and said--'Good-by, brother.' And I got back through thegutter; and we set off home that very evening. And he went to King'sCollege, in Cambridge, and I'M going to Cambridge soon; and if hedoesn't stand to his promise (for he's only wrote once),--he knows Iwear a sword, Harry. Come along, and let's go see the cocking-match atWinchester.

  ". . . . But I say," he added, laughing, after a pause, "I don't thinkTrix will break her heart about him. La bless you! whenever she seesa man, she makes eyes at him; and young Sir Wilmot Crawley of Queen'sCrawley, and Anthony Henley of Airesford, were at swords drawn abouther, at the Winchester Assembly, a month ago."

  That night Mr. Harry's sleep was by no means so pleasant or sweet as ithad been on the first two evenings after his arrival at Walcote. "So thebright eyes have been already shining on another," thought he, "and thepretty lips, or the cheeks at any rate, have begun the work which theywere made for. Here's a girl not sixteen, and one young gentleman isalready whimpering over a lock of her hair, and two country squiresare ready to cut each other's throats that they may have the honor of adance with her. What a fool am I to be dallying about this passion, andsingeing my wings in this foolish flame. Wings!--why not say crutches?'There is but eight years' difference between us, to be sure; but inlife I am thirty years older. How could I ever hope to please such asweet creature as that, with my rough ways and glum face? Say that Ihave merit ever so much, and won myself a name, could she ever listento me? She must be my Lady Marchioness, and I remain a nameless bastard.Oh! my master, my master!" (here he fell to thinking with a passionategrief of the vow which he had made to his poor dying lord.) "Oh! mymistress, dearest and kindest, will you be contented with the sacrificewhich the poor orphan makes for you, whom you love, and who so lovesyou?"

  And then came a fiercer pang of temptation. "A word from me," Harrythought, "a syllable of explanation, and all this might be changed; butno, I swore it over the dying bed of my benefactor. For the sake of himand his; for the sacred love and kindness of old days; I gave my promiseto him, and may kind heaven enable me to keep my vow!"

  The next day, although Esmond gave no sign of what was going on in hismind, but strove to be more than ordinarily gay and cheerful when he methis friends at the morning meal, his dear mistress, whose clear eyes itseemed no emotion of his could escape, perceived that something troubledhim, for she looked anxiously towards him more than once during thebreakfast, and when he went up to his chamber afterwards she p
resentlyfollowed him, and knocked at his door.

  As she entered, no doubt the whole story was clear to her at once,for she found our young gentleman packing his valise, pursuant to theresolution which he had come to over-night of making a brisk retreat outof this temptation.

  She closed the door very carefully behind her, and then leant againstit, very pale, her hands folded before her, looking at the young man,who was kneeling over his work of packing. "Are you going so soon?" shesaid.

  He rose up from his knees, blushing, perhaps, to be so discovered, inthe very act, as it were, and took one of her fair little hands--it wasthat which had her marriage ring on--and kissed it.

  "It is best that it should be so, dearest lady," he said.

  "I knew you were going, at breakfast. I--I thought you might stay. Whathas happened? Why can't you remain longer with us? What has Frank toldyou--you were talking together late last night?"

  "I had but three days' leave from Chelsey," Esmond said, as gayly as hecould. "My aunt--she lets me call her aunt--is my mistress now! I oweher my lieutenancy and my laced coat. She has taken me into high favor;and my new General is to dine at Chelsey to-morrow--General Lumley,madam--who has appointed me his aide-de-camp, and on whom I must havethe honor of waiting. See, here is a letter from the Dowager; thepost brought it last night; and I would not speak of it, for fear ofdisturbing our last merry meeting."

  My lady glanced at the letter, and put it down with a smile thatwas somewhat contemptuous. "I have no need to read the letter," saysshe--(indeed, 'twas as well she did not; for the Chelsey missive, in thepoor Dowager's usual French jargon, permitted him a longer holidaythan he said. "Je vous donne," quoth her ladyship, "oui jour, pour vousfatigay parfaictement de vos parens fatigans")--"I have no need to readthe letter," says she. "What was it Frank told you last night?"

  "He told me little I did not know," Mr. Esmond answered. "But I havethought of that little, and here's the result: I have no right to thename I bear, dear lady; and it is only by your sufferance that I amallowed to keep it. If I thought for an hour of what has perhaps crossedyour mind too--"

  "Yes, I did, Harry," said she; "I thought of it; and think of it. Iwould sooner call you my son than the greatest prince in Europe--yes,than the greatest prince. For who is there so good and so brave, and whowould love her as you would? But there are reasons a mother can't tell."

  "I know them," said Mr. Esmond, interrupting her with a smile. "I knowthere's Sir Wilmot Crawley of Queen's Crawley, and Mr. Anthony Henleyof the Grange, and my Lord Marquis of Blandford, that seems to be thefavored suitor. You shall ask me to wear my Lady Marchioness's favorsand to dance at her ladyship's wedding."

  "Oh! Harry, Harry, it is none of these follies that frighten me," criedout Lady Castlewood. "Lord Churchill is but a child, his outbreak aboutBeatrix was a mere boyish folly. His parents would rather see him buriedthan married to one below him in rank. And do you think that I wouldstoop to sue for a husband for Francis Esmond's daughter; or submit tohave my girl smuggled into that proud family to cause a quarrel betweenson and parents, and to be treated only as an inferior? I would disdainsuch a meanness. Beatrix would scorn it. Ah! Henry, 'tis not with youthe fault lies, 'tis with her. I know you both, and love you: need Ibe ashamed of that love now? No, never, never, and 'tis not you, dearHarry, that is unworthy. 'Tis for my poor Beatrix I tremble--whoseheadstrong will frightens me; whose jealous temper (they say I wasjealous too, but, pray God, I am cured of that sin) and whose vanity nowords or prayers of mine can cure--only suffering, only experience, andremorse afterwards. Oh! Henry, she will make no man happy who loves her.Go away, my son: leave her: love us always, and think kindly of us: andfor me, my dear, you know that these walls contain all that I love inthe world."

  In after life, did Esmond find the words true which his fond mistressspoke from her sad heart? Warning he had: but I doubt others had warningbefore his time, and since: and he benefited by it as most men do.

  My young Lord Viscount was exceeding sorry when he heard that Harrycould not come to the cock-match with him, and must go to London, but nodoubt my lord consoled himself when the Hampshire cocks won the match;and he saw every one of the battles, and crowed properly over theconquered Sussex gentlemen.

  As Esmond rode towards town his servant, coming up to him, informed himwith a grin, that Mistress Beatrix had brought out a new gown and bluestockings for that day's dinner, in which she intended to appear, andhad flown into a rage and given her maid a slap on the face soon aftershe heard he was going away. Mistress Beatrix's woman, the fellow said,came down to the servants' hall crying, and with the mark of a blowstill on her cheek: but Esmond peremptorily ordered him to fall backand be silent, and rode on with thoughts enough of his own to occupyhim--some sad ones, some inexpressibly dear and pleasant.

  His mistress, from whom he had been a year separated, was his dearestmistress again. The family from which he had been parted, and which heloved with the fondest devotion, was his family once more. If Beatrix'sbeauty shone upon him, it was with a friendly lustre, and he couldregard it with much such a delight as he brought away after seeing thebeautiful pictures of the smiling Madonnas in the convent at Cadiz, whenhe was despatched thither with a flag; and as for his mistress, 'twasdifficult to say with what a feeling he regarded her. 'Twas happiness tohave seen her; 'twas no great pang to part; a filial tenderness, a lovethat was at once respect and protection, filled his mind as he thoughtof her; and near her or far from her, and from that day until now, andfrom now till death is past and beyond it, he prays that sacred flamemay ever burn.