________________________________________________
_ Before I tell you about Mr. Gray, I think I ought to make you
understand something more of what we did all day long at Hanbury
Court. There were five of us at the time of which I am speaking, all
young women of good descent, and allied (however distantly) to people
of rank. When we were not with my lady, Mrs. Medlicott looked after
us; a gentle little woman, who had been companion to my lady for many
years, and was indeed, I have been told, some kind of relation to
her. Mrs. Medlicott's parents had lived in Germany, and the
consequence was, she spoke English with a very foreign accent.
Another consequence was, that she excelled in all manner of
needlework, such as is not known even by name in these days. She
could darn either lace, table-linen, India muslin, or stockings, so
that no one could tell where the hole or rent had been. Though a
good Protestant, and never missing Guy Faux day at church, she was as
skilful at fine work as any nun in a Papist convent. She would take
a piece of French cambric, and by drawing out some threads, and
working in others, it became delicate lace in a very few hours. She
did the same by Hollands cloth, and made coarse strong lace, with
which all my lady's napkins and table-linen were trimmed. We worked
under her during a great part of the day, either in the still-room,
or at our sewing in a chamber that opened out of the great hall. My
lady despised every kind of work that would now be called Fancy-work.
She considered that the use of coloured threads or worsted was only
fit to amuse children; but that grown women ought not to be taken
with mere blues and reds, but to restrict their pleasure in sewing to
making small and delicate stitches. She would speak of the old
tapestry in the hall as the work of her ancestresses, who lived
before the Reformation, and were consequently unacquainted with pure
and simple tastes in work, as well as in religion. Nor would my lady
sanction the fashion of the day, which, at the beginning of this
century, made all the fine ladies take to making shoes. She said
that such work was a consequence of the French Revolution, which had
done much to annihilate all distinctions of rank and class, and hence
it was, that she saw young ladies of birth and breeding handling
lasts, and awls, and dirty cobblers'-wax, like shoe'-makers'
daughters.
Very frequently one of us would be summoned to my lady to read aloud
to her, as she sat in her small withdrawing-room, some improving
book. It was generally Mr. Addison's "Spectator;" but one year, I
remember, we had to read "Sturm's Reflections" translated from a
German book Mrs. Medlicott recommended. Mr. Sturm told us what to
think about for every day in the year; and very dull it was; but I
believe Queen Charlotte had liked the book very much, and the thought
of her royal approbation kept my lady awake during the reading.
"Mrs. Chapone's Letters" and "Dr. Gregory's Advice to Young Ladies"
composed the rest of our library for week-day reading. I, for one,
was glad to leave my fine sewing, and even my reading aloud (though
this last did keep me with my dear lady) to go to the still-room and
potter about among the preserves and the medicated waters. There was
no doctor for many miles round, and with Mrs. Medlicott to direct us,
and Dr. Buchan to go by for recipes, we sent out many a bottle of
physic, which, I dare say, was as good as what comes out of the
druggist's shop. At any rate, I do not think we did much harm; for
if any of our physics tasted stronger than usual, Mrs. Medlicott
would bid us let it down with cochineal and water, to make all safe,
as she said. So our bottles of medicine had very little real physic
in them at last; but we were careful in putting labels on them, which
looked very mysterious to those who could not read, and helped the
medicine to do its work. I have sent off many a bottle of salt and
water coloured red; and whenever we had nothing else to do in the
still-room, Mrs. Medlicott would set us to making bread-pills, by way
of practice; and, as far as I can say, they were very efficacious, as
before we gave out a box Mrs. Medlicott always told the patient what
symptoms to expect; and I hardly ever inquired without hearing that
they had produced their effect. There was one old man, who took six
pills a-night, of any kind we liked to give him, to make him sleep;
and if, by any chance, his daughter had forgotten to let us know that
he was out of his medicine, he was so restless and miserable that, as
he said, he thought he was like to die. I think ours was what would
be called homoeopathic practice now-a-days. Then we learnt to make
all the cakes and dishes of the season in the still-room. We had
plum-porridge and mince-pies at Christmas, fritters and pancakes on
Shrove Tuesday, furmenty on Mothering Sunday, violet-cakes in Passion
Week, tansy-pudding on Easter Sunday, three-cornered cakes on Trinity
Sunday, and so on through the year: all made from good old Church
receipts, handed down from one of my lady's earliest Protestant
ancestresses. Every one of us passed a portion of the day with Lady
Ludlow; and now and then we rode out with her in her coach and four.
She did not like to go out with a pair of horses, considering this
rather beneath her rank; and, indeed, four horses were very often
needed to pull her heavy coach through the stiff mud. But it was
rather a cumbersome equipage through the narrow Warwickshire lanes;
and I used often to think it was well that countesses were not
plentiful, or else we might have met another lady of quality in
another coach and four, where there would have been no possibility of
turning, or passing each other, and very little chance of backing.
Once when the idea of this danger of meeting another countess in a
narrow, deep-rutted lane was very prominent in my mind I ventured to
ask Mrs. Medlicott what would have to be done on such an occasion;
and she told me that "de latest creation must back, for sure," which
puzzled me a good deal at the time, although I understand it now. I
began to find out the use of the "Peerage," a book which had seemed
to me rather dull before; but, as I was always a coward in a coach, I
made myself well acquainted with the dates of creation of our three
Warwickshire earls, and was happy to find that Earl Ludlow ranked
second, the oldest earl being a hunting widower, and not likely to
drive out in a carriage.
All this time I have wandered from Mr. Gray. Of course, we first saw
him in church when he read himself in. He was very red-faced, the
kind of redness which goes with light hair and a blushing complexion;
he looked slight and short, and his bright light frizzy hair had
hardly a dash of powder in it. I remember my lady making this
observation, and sighing over it; for, though since the famine in
seventeen hundred and ninety-nine and eighteen hundred there had been
a tax on hair-powder, yet it was reckoned very revolutionary and
Jacobin not to wear a good deal of it. My lady hardly liked the
opinions of any man who wore his own hair; but this she would say was
rather a prejudice: only in her youth none but the mob had gone
wigless, and she could not get over the association of wigs with
birth and breeding; a man's own hair with that class of people who
had formed the rioters in seventeen hundred and eighty, when Lord
George Gordon had been one of the bugbears of my lady's life. Her
husband and his brothers, she told us, had been put into breeches,
and had their heads shaved on their seventh birthday, each of them; a
handsome little wig of the newest fashion forming the old Lady
Ludlow's invariable birthday present to her sons as they each arrived
at that age; and afterwards, to the day of their death, they never
saw their own hair. To be without powder, as some underbred people
were talking of being now, was in fact to insult the proprieties of
life, by being undressed. It was English sans-culottism. But Mr.
Gray did wear a little powder, enough to save him in my lady's good
opinion; but not enough to make her approve of him decidedly.
The next time I saw him was in the great hall. Mary Mason and I were
going to drive out with my lady in her coach, and when we went down
stairs with our best hats and cloaks on, we found Mr. Gray awaiting
my lady's coming. I believe he had paid his respects to her before,
but we had never seen him; and he had declined her invitation to
spend Sunday evening at the Court (as Mr. Mountford used to do pretty
regularly--and play a game at picquet too--), which, Mrs. Medlicott
told us, had caused my lady to be not over well pleased with him.
He blushed redder than ever at the sight of us, as we entered the
hall and dropped him our curtsies. He coughed two or three times, as
if he would have liked to speak to us, if he could but have found
something to say; and every time he coughed he became hotter-looking
than ever. I am ashamed to say, we were nearly laughing at him; half
because we, too, were so shy that we understood what his awkwardness
meant.
My lady came in, with her quick active step--she always walked
quickly when she did not bethink herself of her cane--as if she was
sorry to have us kept waiting--and, as she entered, she gave us all
round one of those graceful sweeping curtsies, of which I think the
art must have died out with her,--it implied so much courtesy;--this
time it said, as well as words could do, "I am sorry to have kept you
all waiting,--forgive me."
She went up to the mantelpiece, near which Mr. Gray had been standing
until her entrance, and curtseying afresh to him, and pretty deeply
this time, because of his cloth, and her being hostess, and he, a new
guest. She asked him if he would not prefer speaking to her in her
own private parlour, and looked as though she would have conducted
him there. But he burst out with his errand, of which he was full
even to choking, and which sent the glistening tears into his large
blue eyes, which stood farther and farther out with his excitement.
"My lady, I want to speak to you, and to persuade you to exert your
kind interest with Mr. Lathom--Justice Lathom, of Hathaway Manor--"
"Harry Lathom?" inquired my lady,--as Mr. Gray stopped to take the
breath he had lost in his hurry,--"I did not know he was in the
commission."
"He is only just appointed; he took the oaths not a month ago,--
more's the pity!"
"I do not understand why you should regret it. The Lathoms have held
Hathaway since Edward the First, and Mr. Lathom bears a good
character, although his temper is hasty--"
"My lady! he has committed Job Gregson for stealing--a fault of which
he is as innocent as I--and all the evidence goes to prove it, now
that the case is brought before the Bench; only the Squires hang so
together that they can't be brought to see justice, and are all for
sending Job to gaol, out of compliment to Mr. Lathom, saying it his
first committal, and it won't be civil to tell him there is no
evidence against his man. For God's sake, my lady, speak to the
gentlemen; they will attend to you, while they only tell me to mind
my own business."
Now my lady was always inclined to stand by her order, and the
Lathoms of Hathaway Court were cousins to the Hanbury's. Besides, it
was rather a point of honour in those days to encourage a young
magistrate, by passing a pretty sharp sentence on his first
committals; and Job Gregson was the father of a girl who had been
lately turned away from her place as scullery-maid for sauciness to
Mrs. Adams, her ladyship's own maid; and Mr. Gray had not said a word
of the reasons why he believed the man innocent,--for he was in such
a hurry, I believe he would have had my lady drive off to the Henley
Court-house then and there;--so there seemed a good deal against the
man, and nothing but Mr. Gray's bare word for him; and my lady drew
herself a little up, and said -
"Mr. Gray! I do not see what reason either you or I have to
interfere. Mr. Harry Lathom is a sensible kind of young man, well
capable of ascertaining the truth without our help--"
"But more evidence has come out since," broke in Mr. Gray. My lady
went a little stiffer, and spoke a little more coldly:-
"I suppose this additional evidence is before the justices: men of
good family, and of honour and credit, well known in the county.
They naturally feel that the opinion of one of themselves must have
more weight than the words of a man like Job Gregson, who bears a
very indifferent character,--has been strongly suspected of poaching,
coming from no one knows where, squatting on Hareman's Common--which,
by the way, is extra-parochial, I believe; consequently you, as a
clergyman, are not responsible for what goes on there; and, although
impolitic, there might be some truth in what the magistrates said, in
advising you to mind your own business,"--said her ladyship,
smiling,--"and they might be tempted to bid me mind mine, if I
interfered, Mr. Gray: might they not?"
He looked extremely uncomfortable; half angry. Once or twice he
began to speak, but checked himself, as if his words would not have
been wise or prudent. At last he said--"It may seem presumptuous in
me,--a stranger of only a few weeks' standing--to set up my judgment
as to men's character against that of residents--" Lady Ludlow gave
a little bow of acquiescence, which was, I think, involuntary on her
part, and which I don't think he perceived,--"but I am convinced that
the man is innocent of this offence,--and besides, the justices
themselves allege this ridiculous custom of paying a compliment to a
newly-appointed magistrate as their only reason."
That unlucky word "ridiculous!" It undid all the good his modest
beginning had done him with my lady. I knew as well as words could
have told me, that she was affronted at the expression being used by
a man inferior in rank to those whose actions he applied it to,--and
truly, it was a great want of tact, considering to whom he was
speaking.
Lady Ludlow spoke very gently and slowly; she always did so when she
was annoyed; it was a certain sign, the meaning of which we had all
learnt.
"I think, Mr. Gray, we will drop the subject. It is one on which we
are not likely to agree."
Mr. Gray's ruddy colour grew purple and then faded away, and his face
became pale. I think both my lady and he had forgotten our presence;
and we were beginning to feel too awkward to wish to remind them of
it. And yet we could not help watching and listening with the
greatest interest.
Mr. Gray drew himself up to his full height, with an unconscious
feeling of dignity. Little as was his stature, and awkward and
embarrassed as he had been only a few minutes before, I remember
thinking he looked almost as grand as my lady when he spoke.
"Your ladyship must remember that it may be my duty to speak to my
parishioners on many subjects on which they do not agree with me. I
am not at liberty to be silent, because they differ in opinion from
me."
Lady Ludlow's great blue eyes dilated with surprise, and--I do think-
-anger, at being thus spoken to. I am not sure whether it was very
wise in Mr. Gray. He himself looked afraid of the consequences but
as if he was determined to bear them without flinching. For a minute
there was silence. Then my lady replied--"Mr. Gray, I respect your
plain speaking, although I may wonder whether a young man of your age
and position has any right to assume that he is a better judge than
one with the experience which I have naturally gained at my time of
life, and in the station I hold."
"If I, madam, as the clergyman of this parish, am not to shrink from
telling what I believe to be the truth to the poor and lowly, no more
am I to hold my peace in the presence of the rich and titled." Mr.
Gray's face showed that he was in that state of excitement which in a
child would have ended in a good fit of crying. He looked as if he
had nerved himself up to doing and saying things, which he disliked
above everything, and which nothing short of serious duty could have
compelled him to do and say. And at such times every minute
circumstance which could add to pain comes vividly before one. I saw
that he became aware of our presence, and that it added to his
discomfiture.
My lady flushed up. "Are you aware, sir," asked she, "that you have
gone far astray from the original subject of conversation? But as
you talk of your parish, allow me to remind you that Hareman's Common
is beyond the bounds, and that you are really not responsible for the
characters and lives of the squatters on that unlucky piece of
ground."
"Madam, I see I have only done harm in speaking to you about the
affair at all. I beg your pardon and take my leave."
He bowed, and looked very sad. Lady Ludlow caught the expression of
his face.
"Good morning!" she cried, in rather a louder and quicker way than
that in which she had been speaking. "Remember, Job Gregson is a
notorious poacher and evildoer, and you really are not responsible
for what goes on at Hareman's Common."
He was near the hall door, and said something--half to himself, which
we heard (being nearer to him), but my lady did not; although she saw
that he spoke. "What did he say?" she asked in a somewhat hurried
manner, as soon as the door was closed--"I did not hear." We looked
at each other, and then I spoke:
"He said, my lady, that 'God help him! he was responsible for all the
evil he did not strive to overcome.'"
My lady turned sharp round away from us, and Mary Mason said
afterwards she thought her ladyship was much vexed with both of us,
for having been present, and with me for having repeated what Mr.
Gray had said. But it was not our fault that we were in the hall,
and when my lady asked what Mr. Gray had said, I thought it right to
tell her.
In a few minutes she bade us accompany her in her ride in the coach.
Lady Ludlow always sat forwards by herself, and we girls backwards.
Somehow this was a rule, which we never thought of questioning. It
was true that riding backwards made some of us feel very
uncomfortable and faint; and to remedy this my lady always drove with
both windows open, which occasionally gave her the rheumatism; but we
always went on in the old way. This day she did not pay any great
attention to the road by which we were going, and Coachman took his
own way. We were very silent, as my lady did not speak, and looked
very serious. Or else, in general, she made these rides very
pleasant (to those who were not qualmish with riding backwards), by
talking to us in a very agreeable manner, and telling us of the
different things which had happened to her at various places,--at
Paris and Versailles, where she had been in her youth,--at Windsor
and Kew and Weymouth, where she had been with the Queen, when maid-
of-honour--and so on. But this day she did not talk at all. All at
once she put her head out of the window.
"John Footman," said she, "where are we? Surely this is Hareman's
Common."
"Yes, an't please my lady," said John Footman, and waited for further
speech or orders. My lady thought a while, and then said she would
have the steps put down and get out.
As soon as she was gone, we looked at each other, and then without a
word began to gaze after her. We saw her pick her dainty way in the
little high-heeled shoes she always wore (because they had been in
fashion in her youth), among the yellow pools of stagnant water that
had gathered in the clayey soil. John Footman followed, stately,
after; afraid too, for all his stateliness, of splashing his pure
white stockings. Suddenly my lady turned round and said something to
him, and he returned to the carriage with a half-pleased, half-
puzzled air.
My lady went on to a cluster of rude mud houses at the higher end of
the Common; cottages built, as they were occasionally at that day, of
wattles and clay, and thatched with sods. As far as we could make
out from dumb show, Lady Ludlow saw enough of the interiors of these
places to make her hesitate before entering, or even speaking to any
of the children who were playing about in the puddles. After a
pause, she disappeared into one of the cottages. It seemed to us a
long time before she came out; but I dare say it was not more than
eight or ten minutes. She came back with her head hanging down, as
if to choose her way,--but we saw it was more in thought and
bewilderment than for any such purpose.
She had not made up her mind where we should drive to when she got
into the carriage again. John Footman stood, bare-headed, waiting
for orders.
"To Hathaway. My dears, if you are tired, or if you have anything to
do for Mrs. Medlicott, I can drop you at Barford Corner, and it is
but a quarter of an hour's brisk walk home."
But luckily we could safely say that Mrs. Medlicott did not want us;
and as we had whispered to each other, as we sat alone in the coach,
that surely my lady must have gone to Job Gregson's, we were far too
anxious to know the end of it all to say that we were tired. So we
all set off to Hathaway. Mr. Harry Lathom was a bachelor squire,
thirty or thirty-five years of age, more at home in the field than in
the drawing-room, and with sporting men than with ladies.
My lady did not alight, of course; it was Mr. Lathom's place to wait
upon her, and she bade the butler,--who had a smack of the gamekeeper
in him, very unlike our own powdered venerable fine gentleman at
Hanbury,--tell his master, with her compliments, that she wished to
speak to him. You may think how pleased we were to find that we
should hear all that was said; though, I think, afterwards we were
half sorry when we saw how our presence confused the squire, who
would have found it bad enough to answer my lady's questions, even
without two eager girls for audience.
"Pray, Mr. Lathom," began my lady, something abruptly for her,--but
she was very full of her subject,--"what is this I hear about Job
Gregson?"
Mr. Lathom looked annoyed and vexed, but dared not show it in his
words.
"I gave out a warrant against him, my lady, for theft,--that is all.
You are doubtless aware of his character; a man who sets nets and
springes in long cover, and fishes wherever he takes a fancy. It is
but a short step from poaching to thieving."
"That is quite true," replied Lady Ludlow (who had a horror of
poaching for this very reason): "but I imagine you do not send a man
to gaol on account of his bad character."
"Rogues and vagabonds," said Mr. Lathom. "A man may be sent to
prison for being a vagabond; for no specific act, but for his general
mode of life."
He had the better of her ladyship for one moment; but then she
answered -
"But in this case, the charge on which you committed him is for
theft; now his wife tells me he can prove he was some miles distant
from Holmwood, where the robbery took place, all that afternoon; she
says you had the evidence before you."
Mr. Lathom here interrupted my lady, by saying, in a somewhat sulky
manner--"No such evidence was brought before me when I gave the
warrant. I am not answerable for the other magistrates' decision,
when they had more evidence before them. It was they who committed
him to gaol. I am not responsible for that."
My lady did not often show signs of impatience; but we knew she was
feeling irritated, by the little perpetual tapping of her high-heeled
shoe against the bottom of the carriage. About the same time we,
sitting backwards, caught a glimpse of Mr. Gray through the open
door, standing in the shadow of the hall. Doubtless Lady Ludlow's
arrival had interrupted a conversation between Mr. Lathom and Mr.
Gray. The latter must have heard every word of what she was saying;
but of this she was not aware, and caught at Mr. Lathom's disclaimer
of responsibility with pretty much the same argument which she had
heard (through our repetition) that Mr. Gray had used not two hours
before.
"And do you mean to say, Mr. Lathom, that you don't consider yourself
responsible for all injustice or wrong-doing that you might have
prevented, and have not? Nay, in this case the first germ of
injustice was your own mistake. I wish you had been with me a little
while ago, and seen the misery in that poor fellow's cottage." She
spoke lower, and Mr. Gray drew near, in a sort of involuntary manner;
as if to hear all she was saying. We saw him, and doubtless Mr.
Lathom heard his footstep, and knew who it was that was listening
behind him, and approving of every word that was said. He grew yet
more sullen in manner; but still my lady was my lady, and he dared
not speak out before her, as he would have done to Mr. Gray. Lady
Ludlow, however, caught the look of stubborness in his face, and it
roused her as I had never seen her roused.
"I am sure you will not refuse, sir, to accept my bail. I offer to
bail the fellow out, and to be responsible for his appearance at the
sessions. What say you to that, Mr. Lathom?"
"The offence of theft is not bailable, my lady."
"Not in ordinary cases, I dare say. But I imagine this is an
extraordinary case. The man is sent to prison out of compliment to
you, and against all evidence, as far as I can learn. He will have
to rot in gaol for two months, and his wife and children to starve.
I, Lady Ludlow, offer to bail him out, and pledge myself for his
appearance at next quarter-sessions."
"It is against the law, my lady."
"Bah! Bah! Bah! Who makes laws? Such as I, in the House of Lords--
such as you, in the House of Commons. We, who make the laws in St.
Stephen's, may break the mere forms of them, when we have right on
our sides, on our own land, and amongst our own people."
"The lord-lieutenant may take away my commission, if he heard of it."
"And a very good thing for the county, Harry Lathom; and for you too,
if he did,--if you don't go on more wisely than you have begun. A
pretty set you and your brother magistrates are to administer justice
through the land! I always said a good despotism was the best form
of government; and I am twice as much in favour of it now I see what
a quorum is! My dears!" suddenly turning round to us, "if it would
not tire you to walk home, I would beg Mr. Lathom to take a seat in
my coach, and we would drive to Henley Gaol, and have the poor man
out at once."
"A walk over the fields at this time of day is hardly fitting for
young ladies to take alone," said Mr. Lathom, anxious no doubt to
escape from his tete-a-tete drive with my lady, and possibly not
quite prepared to go to the illegal length of prompt measures, which
she had in contemplation.
But Mr. Gray now stepped forward, too anxious for the release of the
prisoner to allow any obstacle to intervene which he could do away
with. To see Lady Ludlow's face when she first perceived whom she
had had for auditor and spectator of her interview with Mr. Lathom,
was as good as a play. She had been doing and saying the very things
she had been so much annoyed at Mr. Gray's saying and proposing only
an hour or two ago. She had been setting down Mr. Lathom pretty
smartly, in the presence of the very man to whom she had spoken of
that gentleman as so sensible, and of such a standing in the county,
that it was presumption to question his doings. But before Mr. Gray
had finished his offer of escorting us back to Hanbury Court, my lady
had recovered herself. There was neither surprise nor displeasure in
her manner, as she answered--"I thank you, Mr. Gray. I was not aware
that you were here, but I think I can understand on what errand you
came. And seeing you here, recalls me to a duty I owe Mr. Lathom.
Mr. Lathom, I have spoken to you pretty plainly,--forgetting, until I
saw Mr. Gray, that only this very afternoon I differed from him on
this very question; taking completely, at that time, the same view of
the whole subject which you have done; thinking that the county would
be well rid of such a man as Job Gregson, whether he had committed
this theft or not. Mr. Gray and I did not part quite friends," she
continued, bowing towards him; "but it so happened that I saw Job
Gregson's wife and home,--I felt that Mr. Gray had been right and I
had been wrong, so, with the famous inconsistency of my sex, I came
hither to scold you," smiling towards Mr. Lathom, who looked half-
sulky yet, and did not relax a bit of his gravity at her smile, "for
holding the same opinions that I had done an hour before. Mr. Gray,"
(again bowing towards him) "these young ladies will be very much
obliged to you for your escort, and so shall I. Mr. Lathom, may I
beg of you to accompany me to Henley?"
Mr. Gray bowed very low, and went very red; Mr. Lathom said something
which we none of us heard, but which was, I think, some remonstrance
against the course he was, as it were, compelled to take. Lady
Ludlow, however, took no notice of his murmur, but sat in an attitude
of polite expectancy; and as we turned off on our walk, I saw Mr.
Lathom getting into the coach with the air of a whipped hound. I
must say, considering my lady's feeling, I did not envy him his ride-
-though, I believe, he was quite in the right as to the object of the
ride being illegal.
Our walk home was very dull. We had no fears; and would far rather
have been without the awkward, blushing young man, into which Mr.
Gray had sunk. At every stile he hesitated,--sometimes he half got
over it, thinking that he could assist us better in that way; then he
would turn back unwilling to go before ladies. He had no ease of
manner, as my lady once said of him, though on any occasion of duty,
he had an immense deal of dignity. _
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