endured him, so he would have drunk the King's health, like a true man
- but to bring that snuffling scoundrel Solsgrace, with all his
beggarly, long-eared congregation, to hold a conventicle in my
father's house - to let them domineer it as they listed - why, I would
not have permitted them such liberty, when they held their head the
highest! They never, in the worst of times, found any way into
Martindale Castle but what Noll's cannon made for them; and that they
should come and cant there, when good King Charles is returned - By my
hand, Dame Margaret shall hear of it!"
But, notwithstanding these ireful resolutions, resentment altogether
subsided in the honest Knight's breast, when he saw the fair features
of his lady lightened with affectionate joy at his return in safety.
As he took her in his arms and kissed her, he forgave her ere he
mentioned her offence.
"Thou hast played the knave with me, Meg," he said, shaking his head,
and smiling at the same time, "and thou knowest in what manner; but I
think thou art true church-woman, and didst only act from silly
womanish fancy of keeping fair with these roguish Roundheads. But let
me have no more of this. I had rather Martindale Castle were again
rent by their bullets, than receive any of the knaves in the way of
friendship - I always except Ralph Bridgenorth of the Hall, if he
should come to his senses again."
Lady Peveril was here under the necessity of explaining what she had
heard of Master Bridgenorth - the disappearance of the governante with
his daughter, and placed Bridgenorth's letter in his hand. Sir
Geoffrey shook his head at first, and then laughed extremely at the
idea that there was some little love-intrigue between Bridgenorth and
Mistress Deborah.
"It is the true end of a dissenter," he said, "to marry his own maid-
servant, or some other person's. Deborah is a good likely wench, and
on the merrier side of thirty, as I should think."
"Nay, nay," said the Lady Peveril, "you are as uncharitable as
Ellesmere - I believe it but to be affection to his child."
"Pshaw! pshaw!" answered the Knight, "women are eternally thinking of
children; but among men, dame, many one carresses the infant that he
may kiss the child's maid; and where's the wonder or the harm either,
if Bridgenorth should marry the wench? Her father is a substantial
yeoman; his family has had the same farm since Bosworthfield - as good
a pedigree as that of the great-grandson of a Chesterfield brewer, I
trow. But let us hear what he says for himself - I shall spell it out
if there is any roguery in the letter about love and liking, though it
might escape your innocence, Dame Margaret."
The Knight of the Peak began to peruse the letter accordingly, but was
much embarrassed by the peculiar language in which it was couched.
"What he means by moving of candlesticks, and breaking down of carved
work in the church, I cannot guess; unless he means to bring back the
large silver candlesticks which my grandsire gave to be placed on the
altar at Martindale Moultrassie; and which his crop-eared friends,
like sacrilegious villains as they are, stole and melted down. And in
like manner, the only breaking I know of, was when they pulled down
the rails of the communion table (for which some of their fingers are
hot enough by this time), and when the brass ornaments were torn down
from Peveril monuments; and that was breaking and removing with a
vengeance. However, dame, the upshot is, that poor Bridgenorth is
going to leave the neighbourhood. I am truly sorry for it, though I
never saw him oftener than once a day, and never spoke to him above
two words. But I see how it is - that little shake by the shoulder
sticks in his stomach; and yet, Meg, I did but lift him out of the
saddle as I might have lifted thee into it, Margaret - I was careful
not to hurt him; and I did not think him so tender in point of honour
as to mind such a thing much; but I see plainly where his sore lies;
and I warrant you I will manage that he stays at the Hall, and that
you get back Julian's little companion. Faith, I am sorry myself at
the thought of losing the baby, and of having to choose another ride
when it is not hunting weather, than round by the Hall, with a word at
the window."
"I should be very glad, Sir Geoffrey," said the Lady Peveril, "that
you could come to a reconciliation with this worthy man, for such I
must hold Master Bridgenorth to be."
"But for his dissenting principles, as good a neighbour as ever
lived," said Sir Geoffrey.
"But I scarce see," continued the lady, "any possibility of bringing
about a conclusion so desirable."
"Tush, dame," answered the Knight, "thou knowest little of such
matters. I know the foot he halts upon, and you shall see him go as
sound as ever."
Lady Peveril had, from her sincere affection and sound sense, as good
a right to claim the full confidence of her husband, as any woman in
Derbyshire; and, upon this occasion, to confess the truth, she had
more anxiety to know his purpose than her sense of their mutual and
separate duties permitted her in general to entertain. She could not
imagine what mode of reconciliation with his neighbour, Sir Geoffrey
(no very acute judge of mankind or their peculiarities) could have
devised, which might not be disclosed to her; and she felt some secret
anxiety lest the means resorted to might be so ill chosen as to render
the breach rather wider. But Sir Geoffrey would give no opening for
farther inquiry. He had been long enough colonel of a regiment abroad,
to value himself on the right of absolute command at home; and to all
the hints which his lady's ingenuity could devise and throw out, he
only answered, "Patience, Dame Margaret, patience. This is no case for
thy handling. Thou shalt know enough on't by-and-by, dame. - Go, look
to Julian. Will the boy never have done crying for lack of that little
sprout of a Roundhead? But we will have little Alice back with us in
two or three days, and all will be well again."
As the good Knight spoke these words, a post winded his horn in the
court, and a large packet was brought in, addressed to the worshipful
Sir Geoffrey Peveril, Justice of the Peace, and so forth; for he had
been placed in authority as soon as the King's Restoration was put
upon a settled basis. Upon opening the packet, which he did with no
small feeling of importance, he found that it contained the warrant
which he had solicited for replacing Doctor Dummerar in the parish,
from which he had been forcibly ejected during the usurpation.
Few incidents could have given more delight to Sir Geoffrey. He could
forgive a stout able-bodied sectary or nonconformist, who enforced his
doctrines in the field by downright blows on the casques and cuirasses
of himself and other Cavaliers. But he remembered with most vindictive
accuracy, the triumphant entrance of Hugh Peters through the breach of
his Castle; and for his sake, without nicely distinguishing betwixt
sects or their teachers, he held all who mounted a pulpit without
warrant from the Church of England - perhaps he might also in private
except that of Rome - to be disturbers of the public tranquillity -
seducers of the congregation from their lawful preachers - instigators
of the late Civil War - and men well disposed to risk the fate of a new
one.
Then, on the other hand, besides gratifying his dislike to Solsgrace,
he saw much satisfaction in the task of replacing his old friend and
associate in sport and in danger, the worthy Doctor Dummerar, in his
legitimate rights and in the ease and comforts of his vicarage. He
communicated the contents of the packet, with great triumph, to the
lady, who now perceived the sense of the mysterious paragraph in Major
Bridgenorth's letter, concerning the removal of the candlestick, and
the extinction of light and doctrine in the land. She pointed this out
to Sir Geoffrey, and endeavoured to persuade him that a door was now
opened to reconciliation with his neighbour, by executing the
commission which he had received in an easy and moderate manner, after
due delay, and with all respect to the feelings both of Solsgrace and
his congregation, which circumstances admitted of. This, the lady
argued, would be doing no injury whatever to Doctor Dummerar; - nay,
might be the means of reconciling many to his ministry, who might
otherwise be disgusted with it for ever, by the premature expulsion of
a favourite preacher.
There was much wisdom, as well as moderation, in this advice; and, at
another time, Sir Geoffrey would have sense enough to have adopted it.
But who can act composedly or prudently in the hour of triumph? The
ejection of Mr. Solsgrace was so hastily executed, as to give it some
appearance of persecution; though, more justly considered, it was the
restoring of his predecessor to his legal rights. Solsgrace himself
seemed to be desirous to make his sufferings as manifest as possible.
He held out to the last; and on the Sabbath after he had received
intimation of his ejection, attempted to make his way to the pulpit,
as usual, supported by Master Bridgenorth's attorney, Win-the-Fight,
and a few zealous followers.
Just as their party came into the churchyard on the one side, Doctor
Dummerar, dressed in full pontificals, in a sort of triumphal
procession accompanied by Peveril of the Peak, Sir Jasper Cranbourne,
and other Cavaliers of distinction, entered at the other.
To prevent an actual struggle in the church, the parish officers were
sent to prevent the farther approach of the Presbyterian minister;
which was effected without farther damage than a broken head,
inflicted by Roger Raine, the drunken innkeeper of the Peveril Arms,
upon the Presbyterian attorney of Chesterfield.
Unsubdued in spirit, though compelled to retreat by superior force,
the undaunted Mr. Solsgrace retired to the vicarage; where under some
legal pretext which had been started by Mr. Win-the-Fight (in that day
unaptly named), he attempted to maintain himself - bolted gates - barred
windows - and, as report said (though falsely), made provision of fire-
arms to resist the officers. A scene of clamour and scandal
accordingly took place, which being reported to Sir Geoffrey, he came
in person, with some of his attendants carrying arms - forced the
outer-gate and inner-doors of the house; and proceeding to the study,
found no other garrison save the Presbyterian parson, with the
attorney, who gave up possession of the premises, after making
protestation against the violence that had been used.
The rabble of the village being by this time all in motion, Sir
Geoffrey, both in prudence and good-nature, saw the propriety of
escorting his prisoners, for so they might be termed, safely through
the tumult; and accordingly conveyed them in person, through much
noise and clamour, as far as the avenue of Moultrassie Hall, which
they chose for the place of their retreat.
But the absence of Sir Geoffrey gave the rein to some disorders,
which, if present, he would assuredly have restrained. Some of the
minister's books were torn and flung about as treasonable and
seditious trash, by the zealous parish-officers or their assistants. A
quantity of his ale was drunk up in healths to the King and Peveril of
the Peak. And, finally, the boys, who bore the ex-parson no good-will
for his tyrannical interference with their games at skittles, foot-
ball, and so forth, and, moreover, remembered the unmerciful length of
his sermons, dressed up an effigy with his Geneva gown and band, and
his steeple-crowned hat, which they paraded through the village, and
burned on the spot whilom occupied by a stately Maypole, which
Solsgrace had formerly hewed down with his own reverend hands.
Sir Geoffrey was vexed at all this and sent to Mr. Solsgrace, offering
satisfaction for the goods which he had lost; but the Calvinistical
divine replied, "From a thread to a shoe-latchet, I will not take
anything that is thine. Let the shame of the work of thy hands abide
with thee."
Considerable scandal, indeed, arose against Sir Geoffrey Peveril as
having proceeded with indecent severity and haste upon this occasion;
and rumour took care to make the usual additions to the reality. It
was currently reported, that the desperate Cavalier, Peveril of the
Peak, had fallen on a Presbyterian congregation, while engaged in the
peaceable exercise of religion, with a band of armed men - had slain
some, desperately wounded many more, and finally pursued the preacher
to his vicarage which he burned to the ground. Some alleged the
clergyman had perished in the flames; and the most mitigated report
bore, that he had only been able to escape by disposing his gown, cap,
and band, near a window, in such a manner as to deceive them with the
idea of his person being still surrounded by flames, while he himself
fled by the back part of the house. And although few people believed
in the extent of the atrocities thus imputed to our honest Cavalier,
yet still enough of obloquy attached to him to infer very serious
consequences, as the reader will learn at a future period of our
history.
CHAPTER IX
/Bessus/. - 'Tis a challenge, sir, is it not?
/Gentleman/. - 'Tis an inviting to the field.
- King and No King.
For a day or two after this forcible expulsion from the vicarage, Mr.
Solsgrace continued his residence at Moultrassie Hall, where the
natural melancholy attendant on his situation added to the gloom of
the owner of the mansion. In the morning, the ejected divine made
excursions to different families in the neighbourhood, to whom his
ministry had been acceptable in the days of his prosperity, and from
whose grateful recollections of that period he now found sympathy and
consolation. He did not require to be condoled with, because he was
deprived of an easy and competent maintenance, and thrust out upon the
common of life, after he had reason to suppose he would be no longer
liable to such mutations of fortune. The piety of Mr. Solsgrace was
sincere; and if he had many of the uncharitable prejudices against
other sects, which polemical controversy had generated, and the Civil
War brought to a head, he had also that deep sense of duty, by which
enthusiasm is so often dignified, and held his very life little, if
called upon to lay it down in attestation of the doctrines in which he
believed. But he was soon to prepare for leaving the district which
Heaven, he conceived, had assigned to him as his corner of the
vineyard; he was to abandon his flock to the wolf - was to forsake
those with whom he had held sweet counsel in religious communion - was
to leave the recently converted to relapse into false doctrines, and
forsake the wavering, whom his continued cares might have directed
into the right path, - these were of themselves deep causes of sorrow,
and were aggravated, doubtless, by those natural feelings with which
all men, especially those whose duties or habits have confined them to
a limited circle, regard the separation from wonted scenes, and their
accustomed haunts of solitary musing, or social intercourse.
There was, indeed, a plan of placing Mr. Solsgrace at the head of a
nonconforming congregation in his present parish, which his followers
would have readily consented to endow with a sufficient revenue. But
although the act for universal conformity was not yet passed, such a
measure was understood to be impending, and there existed a general
opinion among the Presbyterians, that in no hands was it likely to be
more strictly enforced, than in those of Peveril of the Peak.
Solsgrace himself considered not only his personal danger as being
considerable, - for, assuming perhaps more consequence than was
actually attached to him or his productions, he conceived the honest
Knight to be his mortal and determined enemy, - but he also conceived
that he should serve the cause of his Church by absenting himself from
Derbyshire.
"Less known pastors," he said, "though perhaps more worthy of the
name, may be permitted to assemble the scattered flocks in caverns or
in secret wilds, and to them shall the gleaning of the grapes of
Ephraim be better than the vintage of Abiezer. But I, that have so
often carried the banner forth against the mighty - I, whose tongue
hath testified, morning and evening, like the watchman upon the tower,
against Popery, Prelacy, and the tyrant of the Peak - for me to abide
here, were but to bring the sword of bloody vengeance amongst you,
that the shepherd might be smitten, and the sheep scattered. The
shedders of blood have already assailed me, even within that ground
which they themselves call consecrated; and yourselves have seen the
scalp of the righteous broken, as he defended my cause. Therefore, I
will put on my sandals, and gird my loins, and depart to a far
country, and there do as my duty shall call upon me, whether it be to
act or to suffer - to bear testimony at the stake or in the pulpit."
Such were the sentiments which Mr. Solsgrace expressed to his
desponding friends, and which he expatiated upon at more length with
Major Bridgenorth; not failing, with friendly zeal, to rebuke the
haste which the latter had shown to thrust out the hand of fellowship
to the Amalekite woman, whereby he reminded him, "He had been rendered
her slave and bondsman for a season, like Samson, betrayed by Delilah,
and might have remained longer in the house of Dagon, had not Heaven
pointed to him a way out of the snare. Also, it sprung originally from
the Major's going up to feast in the high place of Baal, that he who
was the champion of the truth was stricken down, and put to shame by
the enemy, even in the presence of the host."
These objurgations seeming to give some offence to Major Bridgenorth,
who liked, no better than any other man, to hear of his own mishaps,
and at the same time to have them imputed to his own misconduct, the
worthy divine proceeded to take shame to himself for his own sinful
compliance in that matter; for to the vengeance justly due for that
unhappy dinner at Martindale Castle (which was, he said, a crying of
peace when there was no peace, and a dwelling in the tents of sin), he
imputed his ejection from his living, with the destruction of some of
his most pithy and highly prized volumes of divinity, with the loss of
his cap, gown, and band, and a double hogshead of choice Derby ale.
The mind of Major Bridgenorth was strongly tinged with devotional
feeling, which his late misfortunes had rendered more deep and solemn;
and it is therefore no wonder, that, when he heard these arguments
urged again and again, by a pastor whom he so much respected, and who
was now a confessor in the cause of their joint faith, he began to
look back with disapproval on his own conduct, and to suspect that he
had permitted himself to be seduced by gratitude towards Lady Peveril,
and by her special arguments in favour of a mutual and tolerating
liberality of sentiments, into an action which had a tendency to
compromise his religious and political principles.
One morning, as Major Bridgenorth had wearied himself with several
details respecting the arrangement of his affairs, he was reposing in
the leathern easy-chair, beside the latticed window, a posture which,
by natural association, recalled to him the memory of former times,
and the feelings with which he was wont to expect the recurring visit
of Sir Geoffrey, who brought him news of his child's welfare, -
"Surely," he said, thinking, as it were, aloud, "there was no sin in
the kindness with which I then regarded that man."
Solsgrace, who was in the apartment, and guessed what passed through
his friend's mind, acquainted as he was with every point of his
history, replied - "When God caused Elijah to be fed by ravens, while
hiding at the brook Cherith, we hear not of his fondling the unclean
birds, whom, contrary to their ravening nature, a miracle compelled to
minister to him."
"It may be so," answered Bridgenorth, "yet the flap of their wings
must have been gracious in the ear of the famished prophet, like the
tread of his horse in mine. The ravens, doubtless, resumed their
nature when the season was passed, and even so it has fared with
him. - Hark!" he exclaimed, starting, "I hear his horse's hoof tramp
even now."
It was seldom that the echoes of that silent house and courtyard were
awakened by the trampling of horses, but such was now the case.
Both Bridgenorth and Solsgrace were surprised at the sound, and even
disposed to anticipate some farther oppression on the part of the
government, when the Major's old servant introduced, with little
ceremony (for his manners were nearly as plain as his master's), a
tall gentleman on the farther side of middle life, whose vest and
cloak, long hair, slouched hat and drooping feather, announced him as
a Cavalier. He bowed formally, but courteously, to both gentlemen, and
said, that he was "Sir Jasper Cranbourne, charged with an especial
message to Master Ralph Bridgenorth of Moultrassie Hall, by his
honourable friend Sir Geoffrey Peveril of the Peak, and that he
requested to know whether Master Bridgenorth would be pleased to
receive his acquittal of commission here or elsewhere."
"Anything which Sir Geoffrey Peveril can have to say to me," said
Major Bridgenorth, "may be told instantly, and before my friend, from
whom I have no secrets."
"The presence of any other friend were, instead of being
objectionable, the thing in the world most to be desired," said Sir
Jasper, after a moment's hesitation, and looking at Mr. Solsgrace;
"but this gentleman seems to be a sort of clergyman."
"I am not conscious of any secrets," answered Bridgenorth, "nor do I
desire to have any, in which a clergyman is unfitting confidant."
"At your pleasure," replied Sir Jasper. "The confidence, for aught I
know, may be well enough chosen, for your divines (always under your
favour) have proved no enemies to such matters as I am to treat with
you upon."
"Proceed, sir," answered Mr. Bridgenorth gravely; "and I pray you to
be seated, unless it is rather your pleasure to stand."
"I must, in the first place, deliver myself of my small commission,"
answered Sir Jasper, drawing himself up; "and it will be after I have
seen the reception thereof, that I shall know whether I am, or am not,
to sit down at Moultrassie Hall. - Sir Geoffrey Peveril, Master
Bridgenorth, hath carefully considered with himself the unhappy
circumstances which at present separate you as neighbours. And he
remembers many passages in former times - I speak his very words - which
incline him to do all that can possibly consist with his honour, to
wipe out unkindness between you; and for this desirable object, he is
willing to condescend in a degree, which, as you could not have
expected, it will no doubt give you great pleasure to learn."
"Allow me to say, Sir Jasper," said Bridgenorth, "that this is
unnecessary. I have made no complaints of Sir Geoffrey - I have
required no submission from him - I am about to leave this country; and
what affairs we may have together, can be as well settled by others as
by ourselves."
"In a word," said the divine, "the worthy Major Bridgenorth hath had
enough of trafficking with the ungodly, and will no longer, on any
terms, consort with them."
"Gentleman both," said Sir Jasper, with imperturbable politeness,
bowing, "you greatly mistake the tenor of my commission, which you
will do as well to hear out, before making any reply to it. - I think,
Master Bridgenorth, you cannot but remember your letter to the Lady
Peveril, of which I have here a rough copy, in which you complain of
the hard measure which you have received at Sir Geoffrey's hand, and,
in particular, when he pulled you from your horse at or near Hartley-
nick. Now, Sir Geoffrey thinks so well of you, as to believe, that,
were it not for the wide difference betwixt his descent and rank and
your own, you would have sought to bring this matter to a gentleman-
like arbitrament, as the only mode whereby your stain may be
honourably wiped away. Wherefore, in this slight note, he gives you,
in his generosity, the offer of what you, in your modesty (for to
nothing else does he impute your acquiescence), have declined to
demand of him. And withal, I bring you the measure of his weapon; and
when you have accepted the cartel which I now offer you, I shall be
ready to settle the time, place, and other circumstances of your
meeting."
"And I," said Solsgrace, with a solemn voice, "should the Author of
Evil tempt my friend to accept of so bloodthirsty a proposal, would be
the first to pronounce against him sentence of the greater
excommunication."
"It is not you whom I address, reverend sir," replied the envoy; "your
interest, not unnaturally, may determine you to be more anxious about
your patron's life than about his honour. I must know, from himself,
to which /he/ is disposed to give the preference."
So saying, and with a graceful bow, he again tendered the challenge to
Major Bridgenorth. There was obviously a struggle in that gentleman's
bosom, between the suggestions of human honour and those of religious
principle; but the latter prevailed. He calmly waived receiving the
paper which Sir Jasper offered to him, and spoke to the following
purpose: - "It may not be known to you, Sir Jasper, that since the
general pouring out of Christian light upon this kingdom, many solid
men have been led to doubt whether the shedding human blood by the
hand of a fellow-creature be in /any/ respect justifiable. And
although this rule appears to me to be scarcely applicable to our
state in this stage of trial, seeing that such non-resistance, if
general, would surrender our civil and religious rights into the hands
of whatsoever daring tyrants might usurp the same; yet I am, and have
been, inclined to limit the use of carnal arms to the case of
necessary self-defence, whether such regards our own person, or the
protection of our country against invasion; or of our rights of
property, and the freedom of our laws and of our conscience, against
usurping power. And as I have never shown myself unwilling to draw my
sword in any of the latter causes, so you shall excuse my suffering it
now to remain in the scabbard, when, having sustained a grievous
injury, the man who inflicted it summons me to combat, either upon an
idle punctilio, or, as is more likely, in mere bravado."
"I have heard you with patience," said Sir Jasper; "and now, Master
Bridgenorth, take it not amiss, if I beseech you to bethink yourself
better on this matter. I vow to Heaven, sir, that your honour lies a-
bleeding; and that in condescending to afford you this fair meeting,
and thereby giving you some chance to stop its wounds, Sir Geoffrey
has been moved by a tender sense of your condition, and an earnest
wish to redeem your dishonour. And it will be but the crossing of
your blade with his honoured sword for the space of some few minutes,
and you will either live or die a noble and honoured gentleman.
Besides, that the Knight's exquisite skill of fence may enable him, as
his good-nature will incline him, to disarm you with some flesh wound,
little to the damage of your person, and greatly to the benefit of
your reputation."
"The tender mercies of the wicked," said Master Solsgrace
emphatically, by way of commenting on this speech, which Sir Jasper
had uttered very pathetically, "are cruel."
"I pray to have no farther interruption from your reverence," said Sir
Jasper; "especially as I think this affair very little concerns you;
and I entreat that you permit me to discharge myself regularly of my
commission from my worthy friend."
So saying, he took his sheathed rapier from his belt, and passing the
point through the silk thread which secured the letter, he once more,
and literally at sword point, gracefully tendered it to Major
Bridgenorth who again waved it aside, though colouring deeply at the
same time, as if he was putting a marked constraint upon himself - drew
back, and made Sir Jasper Cranbourne a deep bow.
"Since it is to be thus," said Sir Jasper, "I must myself do violence
to the seal of Sir Geoffrey's letter, and read it to you, that I may
fully acquit myself of the charge entrusted to me, and make you,
Master Bridgenorth, equally aware of the generous intentions of Sir
Geoffrey on your behalf."
"If," said Major Bridgenorth, "the contents of the letter be to no
other purpose than you have intimated, methinks farther ceremony is
unnecessary on this occasion, as I have already taken my course."
"Nevertheless," said Sir Jasper, breaking open the letter, "it is
fitting that I read to you the letter of my worshipful friend." And he
read accordingly as follows: -
"/For the worthy hands of Ralph Bridgenorth, Esquire, of
Moultrassie Hall - These:/
"By the honoured conveyance of the Worshipful Sir Jasper
Cranbourne, Knight, of Long-Mallington.
"Master Bridgenorth, - We have been given to understand by your
letter to our loving wife, Dame Margaret Peveril, that you hold
hard construction of certain passages betwixt you and I, of a late
date, as if your honour should have been, in some sort, prejudiced
by what then took place. And although you have not thought it fit
to have direct recourse to me, to request such satisfaction as is
due from one gentleman of condition to another, yet I am fully
minded that this proceeds only from modesty, arising out of the
distinction of our degree, and from no lack of that courage which
you have heretofore displayed, I would I could say in a good
cause. Wherefore I am purposed to give you, by my friend, Sir
Jasper Cranbourne, a meeting, for the sake of doing that which
doubtless you entirely long for. Sir Jasper will deliver you the
length of my weapon, and appoint circumstances and an hour for our
meeting; which, whether early or late - on foot or horseback - with
rapier or backsword - I refer to yourself, with all the other
privileges of a challenged person; only desiring, that if you
decline to match my weapon, you will send me forthwith the length
and breadth of your own. And nothing doubting that the issue of
this meeting must needs be to end, in one way or other, all
unkindness betwixt two near neighbours, - I remain, your humble
servant to command,
"Geoffrey Peveril of the Peak.
"Given from my poor house of Martindale Castle, this same ____ of
____, sixteen hundred and sixty."
"Bear back my respects to Sir Geoffrey Peveril," said Major
Bridgenorth. "According to his light, his meaning may be fair towards
me; but tell him that our quarrel had its rise in his own wilful
aggression towards me; and that though I wish to be in charity with
all mankind, I am not so wedded to his friendship as to break the laws
of God, and run the risk of suffering or committing murder, in order
to regain it. And for you, sir, methinks your advanced years and past
misfortunes might teach you the folly of coming on such idle errands."
"I shall do your message, Master Ralph Bridgenorth," said Sir Jasper;
"and shall then endeavour to forget your name, as a sound unfit to be
pronounced, or even remembered, by a man of honour. In the meanwhile,
in return for your uncivil advice, be pleased to accept of mine;
namely, that as your religion prevents your giving a gentleman
satisfaction, it ought to make you very cautious of offering him
provocation."
So saying, and with a look of haughty scorn, first at the Major, and
then at the divine, the envoy of Sir Geoffrey put his hat on his head,
replaced his rapier in its belt, and left the apartment. In a few
minutes afterwards, the tread of his horse died away at a considerable
distance.
Bridgenorth had held his hand upon his brow ever since his departure,
and a tear of anger and shame was on his face as he raised it when the
sound was heard no more. "He carries this answer to Martindale
Castle," he said. "Men will hereafter think of me as a whipped,
beaten, dishonourable fellow, whom every one may baffle and insult at
their pleasure. It is well I am leaving the house of my father."
Master Solsgrace approached his friend with much sympathy, and grasped
him by the hand. "Noble brother," he said, with unwonted kindness of
manner, "though a man of peace, I can judge what this sacrifice hath
cost to thy manly spirit. But God will not have from us an imperfect
obedience. We must not, like Ananias and Sapphira, reserve behind some
darling lust, some favourite sin, while we pretend to make sacrifice
of our worldly affections. What avails it to say that we have but
secreted a little matter, if the slightest remnant of the accursed
thing remain hidden in our tent? Would it be a defence in thy prayers
to say, I have not murdered this man for the lucre of gain, like a
robber - nor for the acquisition of power, like a tyrant, - nor for the
gratification of revenge, like a darkened savage; but because the
imperious voice of worldly honour said, 'Go forth - kill or be killed -
is it not I that have sent thee?' Bethink thee, my worthy friend, how
thou couldst frame such a vindication in thy prayers; and if thou art
forced to tremble at the blasphemy of such an excuse, remember in thy
prayers the thanks due to Heaven, which enabled thee to resist the
strong temptation."
"Reverend and dear friend," answered Bridgenorth, "I feel that you
speak the truth. Bitterer, indeed, and harder, to the old Adam, is the
text which ordains him to suffer shame, than that which bids him to do
valiantly for the truth. But happy am I that my path through the
wilderness of this world will, for some space at least, be along with
one, whose zeal and friendship are so active to support me when I am
fainting in the way."
While the inhabitants of Moultrassie Hall thus communicated together
upon the purport of Sir Jasper Cranbourne's visit, that worthy knight
greatly excited the surprise of Sir Geoffrey Peveril, by reporting the
manner in which his embassy had been received.
"I took him for a man of other metal," said Sir Geoffrey; - "nay, I
would have sworn it, had any one asked my testimony. But there is no
making a silken purse out of a sow's ear. I have done a folly for him
that I will never do for another: and that is, to think a Presbyterian
would fight without his preacher's permission. Give them a two hours'
sermon, and let them howl a psalm to a tune that is worse than the
cries of a flogged hound, and the villains will lay on like threshers;
but for a calm, cool, gentleman-like turn upon the sod, hand to hand,
in a neighbourly way, they have not honour enough to undertake it. But
enough of our crop-eared cur of a neighbour. - Sir Jasper, you will
tarry with us to dine, and see how Dame Margaret's kitchen smokes; and
after dinner I will show you a long-winged falcon fly. She is not
mine, but the Countess's, who brought her from London on her fist
almost the whole way, for all the haste she was in, and left her with
me to keep the perch for a season."
This match was soon arranged, and Dame Margaret overheard the good
Knight's resentment mutter itself off, with those feelings with which
we listen to the last growling of the thunderstorm; which, as the
black cloud sinks beneath the hill, at once assures us that there has
been danger, and that the peril is over. She could not, indeed, but
marvel in her own mind at the singular path of reconciliation with his
neighbour which her husband had, with so much confidence, and in the
actual sincerity of his goodwill to Mr. Bridgenorth, attempted to
open; and she blessed God internally that it had not terminated in
bloodshed. But these reflections she locked carefully within her own
bosom, well knowing that they referred to subjects in which the Knight
of the Peak would neither permit his sagacity to be called in
question, nor his will to be controlled.
The progress of the history hath hitherto been slow; but after this
period so little matter worth of mark occurred at Martindale, that we
must hurry over hastily the transactions of several years.
CHAPTER X
/Cleopatra./ - Give me to drink mandragora,
That I may sleep away this gap of time.
- Antony and Cleopatra.
There passed, as we hinted at the conclusion of the last chapter, four
or five years after the period we have dilated upon; the events of
which scarcely require to be discussed, so far as our present purpose
is concerned, in as many lines. The Knight and his Lady continued to
reside at their Castle - she, with prudence and with patience,
endeavouring to repair the damages which the Civil Wars had inflicted
upon their fortune; and murmuring a little when her plans of economy
were interrupted by the liberal hospitality, which was her husband's
principal expense, and to which he was attached, not only from his own
English heartiness of disposition, but from ideas of maintaining the
dignity of his ancestry - no less remarkable, according to the
tradition of their buttery, kitchen, and cellar, for the fat beeves
which they roasted, and the mighty ale which they brewed, than for
their extensive estates, and the number of their retainers.
The world, however, upon the whole, went happily and easily with the
worthy couple. Sir Geoffrey's debt to his neighbour Bridgenorth
continued, it is true, unabated; but he was the only creditor upon the
Martindale estate - all others being paid off. It would have been most
desirable that this encumbrance also should be cleared, and it was the
great object of Dame Margaret's economy to effect the discharge; for
although interest was regularly settled with Master Win-the-Fight, the
Chesterfield attorney, yet the principal sum, which was a large one,
might be called for at an inconvenient time. The man, too, was gloomy,
important, and mysterious, and always seemed as if he was thinking
upon his broken head in the churchyard of Martindale-cum-Moultrassie.
Dame Margaret sometimes transacted the necessary business with him in
person; and when he came to the Castle on these occasions, she thought
she saw a malicious and disobliging expression in his manner and
countenance. Yet his actual conduct was not only fair, but liberal;
for indulgence was given, in the way of delay of payment, whenever
circumstances rendered it necessary to the debtor to require it. It
seemed to Lady Peveril that the agent, in such cases, was acting under
the strict orders of his absent employer, concerning whose welfare she
could not help feeling a certain anxiety.
Shortly after the failure of the singular negotiation for attaining
peace by combat, which Peveril had attempted to open with Major
Bridgenorth, that gentleman left his seat of Moultrassie Hall in the
care of his old housekeeper, and departed, no one knew whither, having
in company with him his daughter Alice and Mrs. Deborah Debbitch, now
formally installed in all the duties of a governante; to these was
added the Reverend Master Solsgrace. For some time public rumour
persisted in asserting, that Major Bridgenorth had only retreated to a
distant part of the country for a season, to achieve his supposed