Part 2 (1/2)
This conversation decided the fate of Roland Graeme, who from thence-forward was little noticed by the master of the mansion of Avenel, but indulged and favoured by its mistress.
This situation led to many important consequences, and, in truth, tended to bring forth the character of the youth in all its broad lights and deep shadows. As the Knight himself seemed tacitly to disclaim alike interest and control over the immediate favourite of his lady, young Roland was, by circ.u.mstances, exempted from the strict discipline to which, as the retainer of a Scottish man of rank, he would otherwise have been subjected, according to all the rigour of the age. But the steward, or master of the household--such was the proud t.i.tle a.s.sumed by the head domestic of each petty baron--deemed it not advisable to interfere with the favourite of the Lady, and especially since she had brought the estate into the present family. Master Jasper Wingate was a man experienced, as he often boasted, in the ways of great families, and knew how to keep the steerage even when the wind and tide chanced to be in contradiction.
This prudent personage winked at much, and avoided giving opportunity for farther offence, by requesting little of Roland Graeme beyond the degree of attention which he was himself disposed to pay; rightly conjecturing, that however lowly the place which the youth might hold in the favour of the Knight of Avenel, still to make an evil report of him would make an enemy of the Lady, without securing the favour of her husband. With these prudential considerations, and doubtless not without an eye to his own ease and convenience, he taught the boy as much, and only as much, as he chose to learn, readily admitting whatever apology it pleased his pupil to allege in excuse for idleness or negligence. As the other persons in the castle, to whom such tasks were delegated, readily imitated the prudential conduct of the major-domo, there was little control used towards Roland Graeme, who, of course, learned no more than what a very active mind, and a total impatience of absolute idleness led him to acquire upon his own account, and by dint of his own exertions. The latter were especially earnest, when the Lady herself condescended to be his tutress, or to examine his progress.
It followed also from his quality as my Lady's favourite, that Roland was viewed with no peculiar good-will by the followers of the Knight, many of whom, of the same age, and apparently similar origin, with the fortunate page, were subjected to severe observance of the ancient and rigorous discipline of a feudal retainer. To these, Roland Graeme was of course an object of envy, and, in consequence, of dislike and detraction; but the youth possessed qualities which it was impossible to depreciate. Pride, and a sense of early ambition, did for him what severity and constant instruction did for others. In truth, the youthful Roland displayed that early flexibility both of body and mind, which renders exercise, either mental or bodily, rather matter of sport than of study; and it seemed as if he acquired accidentally, and by starts, those accomplishments, which earnest and constant instruction, enforced by frequent reproof and occasional chastis.e.m.e.nt, had taught to others. Such military exercises, such lessons of the period, as he found it agreeable or convenient to apply to, he learned so perfectly, as to confound those who were ignorant how often the want of constant application is compensated by vivacity of talent and ardent enthusiasm. The lads, therefore, who were more regularly trained to arms, to horsemans.h.i.+p, and to other necessary exercises of the period, while they envied Roland Graeme the indulgence or negligence with which he seemed to be treated, had little reason to boast of their own superior acquirements; a few hours, with the powerful exertion of a most energetic will, seemed to do for him more than the regular instruction of weeks could accomplish for others.
Under these advantages, if, indeed, they were to be termed such, the character of young Roland began to develope itself. It was bold, peremptory, decisive, and overbearing; generous, if neither withstood nor contradicted; vehement and pa.s.sionate, if censured or opposed. He seemed to consider himself as attached to no one, and responsible to no one, except his mistress, and even over her mind he had gradually acquired that species of ascendancy which indulgence is so apt to occasion. And although the immediate followers and dependents of Sir Halbert Glendinning saw his ascendancy with jealousy, and often took occasion to mortify his vanity, there wanted not those who were willing to acquire the favour of the Lady of Avenel by humouring and taking part with the youth whom she protected; for although a favourite, as the poet a.s.sures us, has no friend, he seldom fails to have both followers and flatterers.
The partisans of Roland Graeme were chiefly to be found amongst the inhabitants of the little hamlet on the sh.o.r.e of the lake. These villagers, who were sometimes tempted to compare their own situation with that of the immediate and constant followers of the Knight, who attended him on his frequent journeys to Edinburgh and elsewhere, delighted in considering and representing themselves as more properly the subjects of the Lady of Avenel than of her husband. It is true, her wisdom and affection on all occasions discountenanced the distinction which was here implied; but the villagers persisted in thinking it must be agreeable to her to enjoy their peculiar and undivided homage, or at least in acting as if they thought so; and one chief mode by which they evinced their sentiments, was by the respect they paid to young Roland Graeme, the favourite attendant of the descendant of their ancient lords. This was a mode of flattery too pleasing to encounter rebuke or censure; and the opportunity which it afforded the youth to form, as it were, a party of his own within the limits of the ancient barony of Avenel, added not a little to the audacity and decisive tone of a character, which was by nature bold, impetuous, and incontrollable.
Of the two members of the household who had manifested an early jealousy of Roland Graeme, the prejudices of Wolf were easily overcome; and in process of time the n.o.ble dog slept with Bran, Luath, and the celebrated hounds of ancient days. But Mr. Warden, the chaplain, lived, and retained his dislike to the youth. That good man, single-minded and benevolent as he really was, entertained rather more than a reasonable idea of the respect due to him as a minister, and exacted from the inhabitants of the castle more deference than the haughty young page, proud of his mistress's favour, and petulant from youth and situation, was at all times willing to pay. His bold and free demeanour, his attachment to rich dress and decoration, his inapt.i.tude to receive instruction, and his hardening himself against rebuke, were circ.u.mstances which induced the good old man, with more haste than charity, to set the forward page down as a vessel of wrath, and to presage that the youth nursed that pride and haughtiness of spirit which goes before ruin and destruction. On the other hand, Roland evinced at times a marked dislike, and even something like contempt, of the chaplain. Most of the attendants and followers of Sir Halbert Glendinning entertained the same charitable thoughts as the reverend Mr. Warden; but while Roland was favoured by their lady, and endured by their lord, they saw no policy in making their opinions public.
Roland Graeme was sufficiently sensible of the unpleasant situation in which he stood; but in the haughtiness of his heart he retorted upon the other domestics the distant, cold, and sarcastic manner in which they treated him, a.s.sumed an air of superiority which compelled the most obstinate to obedience, and had the satisfaction at least to be dreaded, if he was heartily hated.
The chaplain's marked dislike had the effect of recommending him to the attention of Sir Halbert's brother, Edward, who now, under the conventual appellation of Father Ambrose, continued to be one of the few monks who, with the Abbot Eustatius, had, notwithstanding the nearly total downfall of their faith under the regency of Murray, been still permitted to linger in the cloisters at Kennaquhair. Respect to Sir Halbert had prevented their being altogether driven out of the Abbey, though their order was now in a great measure suppressed, and they were interdicted the public exercise of their ritual, and only allowed for their support a small pension out of their once splendid revenues. Father Ambrose, thus situated, was an occasional, though very rare visitant, at the Castle of Avenel, and was at such times observed to pay particular attention to Roland Graeme, who seemed to return it with more depth of feeling than consisted with his usual habits.
Thus situated, years glided on, during which the Knight of Avenel continued to act a frequent and important part in the convulsions of his distracted country; while young Graeme antic.i.p.ated, both in wishes and personal accomplishments, the age which should enable him to emerge from the obscurity of his present situation.
Chapter the Fourth.
Amid their cups that freely flow'd, Their revelry and mirth, A youthful lord tax'd Valentine With base and doubtful birth. VALENTINE AND ORSON.
When Roland Graeme was a youth about seventeen years of age, he chanced one summer morning to descend to the mew in which Sir Halbert Glendinning kept his hawks, in order to superintend the training of an eyas, or young hawk, which he himself, at the imminent risk of neck and limbs, had taken from the celebrated eyry in the neighborhood, called Gledscraig. As he was by no means satisfied with the attention which had been bestowed on his favourite bird, he was not slack in testifying his displeasure to the falconer's lad, whose duty it was to have attended upon it.
”What, ho! sir knave,” exclaimed Roland, ”is it thus you feed the eyas with unwashed meat, as if you were gorging the foul brancher of a worthless hoodie-crow? by the ma.s.s, and thou hast neglected its castings also for these two days! Think'st thou I ventured my neck to bring the bird down from the crag, that thou shouldst spoil him by thy neglect?” And to add force to his remonstrances, he conferred a cuff or two on the negligent attendant of the hawks, who, shouting rather louder than was necessary under all the circ.u.mstances, brought the master falconer to his a.s.sistance.
Adam Woodc.o.c.k, the falconer of Avenel, was an Englishman by birth, but so long in the service of Glendinning, that he had lost much of his notional attachment in that which he had formed to his master. He was a favourite in his department, jealous and conceited of his skill, as masters of the game usually are; for the rest of his character he was a jester and a parcel poet, (qualities which by no means abated his natural conceit,) a jolly fellow, who, though a sound Protestant, loved a flagon of ale better than a long sermon, a stout man of his hands when need required, true to his master, and a little presuming on his interest with him.
Adam Woodc.o.c.k, such as we have described him, by no means relished the freedom used by young Graeme, in chastising his a.s.sistant. ”Hey, hey, my Lady's page,” said he, stepping between his own boy and Roland, ”fair and softly, an it like your gilt jacket--hands off is fair play--if my boy has done amiss, I can beat him myself, and then you may keep your hands soft.”
”I will beat him and thee too,” answered Roland, without hesitation, ”an you look not better after your business. See how the bird is cast away between you. I found the careless lurdane feeding him with unwashed flesh, and she an eyas.” [Footnote: There is a difference amongst authorities how long the nestling hawk should be fed with flesh which has previously been washed.]
”Go to,” said the falconer, ”thou art but an eyas thyself, child Roland.--What knowest thou of feeding? I say that the eyas should have her meat unwashed, until she becomes a brancher--'twere the ready way to give her the frounce, to wash her meat sooner, and so knows every one who knows a gled from a falcon.”
”It is thine own laziness, thou false English blood, that dost nothing but drink and sleep,” retorted the page, ”and leaves that lither lad to do the work, which he minds as little as thou.”
”And am I so idle then,” said the falconer, ”that have three cast of hawks to look after, at perch and mew, and to fly them in the field to boot?--and is my Lady's page so busy a man that he must take me up short?--and am I of false English blood?--I marvel what blood thou art--neither Englander nor Scot--fish nor flesh--a b.a.s.t.a.r.d from the Debateable Land, without either kith, kin, or ally!--Marry, out upon thee, foul kite, that would fain be a tercel gentle!”
The reply to this sarcasm was a box on the ear, so well applied, that it overthrew the falconer into the cistern in which water was kept for the benefit of the hawks. Up started Adam Woodc.o.c.k, his wrath no way appeased by the cold immersion, and seizing on a truncheon which stood by, would have soon requited the injury he had received, had not Roland laid his hand on his poniard, and sworn by all that was sacred, that if he offered a stroke towards him, he would sheath the blade in his bowels. The noise was now so great, that more than one of the household came in, and amongst others the major-domo, a grave personage, already mentioned, whose gold chain and white wand intimated his authority. At the appearance of this dignitary, the strife was for the present appeased. He embraced, however, so favourable an opportunity, to read Roland Graeme a shrewd lecture on the impropriety of his deportment to his fellow-menials, and to a.s.sure him, that, should he communicate this fray to his master, (who, though now on one of his frequent expeditions, was speedily expected to return,) which but for respect to his Lady he would most certainly do, the residence of the culprit in the Castle of Avenel would be but of brief duration. ”But, however,” added the prudent master of the household, ”I will report the matter first to my Lady.”
”Very just, very right, Master Wingate,” exclaimed several voices together; ”my Lady will consider if daggers, are to be drawn on us for every idle word, and whether we are to live in a well-ordered household, where there is the fear of G.o.d, or amidst drawn dirks and sharp knives.”
The object of this general resentment darted an angry glance around him, and suppressing with difficulty the desire which urged him to reply in furious or in contemptuous language, returned his dagger into his scabbard, looked disdainfully around upon the a.s.sembled menials, turned short upon his heel, and pus.h.i.+ng aside those who stood betwixt him and the door, left the apartment.
”This will be no tree for my nest,” said the falconer, ”if this c.o.c.k-sparrow is to crow over us as he seems to do.”
”He struck me with his switch yesterday,” said one of the grooms, ”because the tail of his wors.h.i.+p's gelding was not trimmed altogether so as suited his humour.”
”And I promise you,” said the laundress, ”my young master will stick nothing to call an honest woman s.l.u.t and quean, if there be but a speck of soot upon his band-collar.”
”If Master Wingate do not his errand to my Lady,” was the general result, ”there will be no tarrying in the same house with Roland Graeme.”
The master of the household heard them all for some time, and then, motioning for universal silence, he addressed them with all the dignity of Malvolio himself.--”My masters,--not forgetting you, my mistresses,--do not think the worse of me that I proceed with as much care as haste in this matter. Our master is a gallant knight, and will have his sway at home and abroad, in wood and field, in hall and bower, as the saying is. Our Lady, my benison upon her, is also a n.o.ble person of long descent, and rightful heir of this place and barony, and she also loves her will; as for that matter, show me the woman who doth not. Now, she hath favoured, doth favour, and will favour, this jack-an-ape,--for what good part about him I know not, save that as one n.o.ble lady will love a messan dog, and another a screaming popinjay, and a third a Barbary ape, so doth it please our n.o.ble dame to set her affections upon this stray elf of a page, for nought that I can think of, save that she--was the cause of his being saved (the more's the pity) from drowning.” And here Master Wingate made a pause.
”I would have been his caution for a gray groat against salt water or fresh,” said Roland's adversary, the falconer; ”marry, if he crack not a rope for stabbing or for s.n.a.t.c.hing, I will be content never to hood hawk again.”
”Peace, Adam Woodc.o.c.k,” said Wingate, waving his hand; ”I prithee, peace man--Now, my Lady liking this springald, as aforesaid, differs therein from my Lord, who loves never a bone in his skin. Now, is it for me to stir up strife betwixt them, and put as'twere my finger betwixt the bark and the tree, on account of a pragmatical youngster, whom, nevertheless, I would willingly see whipped forth of the barony? Have patience, and this boil will break without our meddling. I have been in service since I wore a beard on my chin, till now that that beard is turned gray, and I have seldom known any one better themselves, even by taking the lady's part against the lord's; but never one who did not dirk himself, if he took the lord's against the lady's.”
”And so,” said Lilias, ”we are to be crowed over, every one of us, men and women, c.o.c.k and hen, by this little upstart?--I will try t.i.tles with him first, I promise you.--I fancy, Master Wingate, for as wise as you look, you will be pleased to tell what you have seen to-day, if my lady commands you?”
”To speak the truth when my lady commands me,” answered the prudential major-domo, ”is in some measure my duty, Mistress Lilias; always providing for and excepting those cases in which it cannot be spoken without breeding mischief and inconvenience to myself or my fellow-servants; for the tongue of a tale-bearer breaketh bones as well as Jeddart-staff.” [Footnote: A species of battle-axe, so called as being in especial use in that ancient burgh, whose armorial bearing still represent an armed horseman brandis.h.i.+ng such a weapon.]
”But this imp of Satan is none of your friends or fellow-servants,” said Lilias; ”and I trust you mean not to stand up for him against the whole family besides?”
”Credit me, Mrs. Lilias,” replied the senior, ”should I see the time fitting, I would, with right good-will give him a lick with the rough side of my tongue.”
”Enough said, Master Wingate,” answered Lilias; ”then trust me his song shall soon be laid. If my mistress does not ask me what is the matter below stairs before she be ten minutes of time older, she is no born woman, and my name is not Lilias Bradbourne.”
In pursuance of her plan, Mistress Lilias failed not to present herself before her mistress with all the exterior of one who is possessed of an important secret,--that is, she had the corners of her mouth turned down, her eyes raised up, her lips pressed as fast together as if they had been sewed up, to prevent her babbling, and an air of prim mystical importance diffused over her whole person and demeanour, which seemed to intimate, ”I know something which I am resolved not to tell you!”
Lilias had rightly read her mistress's temper, who, wise and good as she was, was yet a daughter of grandame Eve, and could not witness this mysterious bearing on the part of her waiting-woman without longing to ascertain the secret cause. For a s.p.a.ce, Mrs. Lilias was obdurate to all inquiries, sighed, turned her eyes up higher yet to heaven, hoped for the best, but had nothing particular to communicate. All this, as was most natural and proper, only stimulated the Lady's curiosity; neither was her importunity to be parried with,--”Thank G.o.d, I am no makebate--no tale-bearer,--thank G.o.d, I never envied any one's favour, or was anxious to propale their misdemeanour-only, thank G.o.d, there has been no bloodshed and murder in the house--that is all.”
”Bloodshed and murder!” exclaimed the Lady, ”what does the quean mean?--if you speak not plain out, you shall have something you will scarce be thankful for.”
”Nay, my Lady,” answered Lilias, eager to disburden her mind, or, in, Chaucer's phrase, to ”unbuckle her mail,” ”if you bid me speak out the truth, you must not be moved with what might displease you--Roland Graeme has dirked Adam Woodstock--that is all.”
”Good Heaven!” said the Lady, turning pale as ashes, ”is the man slain?”
”No, madam,” replied Lilias, ”but slain he would have been, if there had not been ready help; but may be, it is your Ladys.h.i.+p's pleasure that this young esquire shall poniard the servants, as well as switch and baton them.”
”Go to, minion,” said the Lady, ”you are saucy-tell the master of the household to attend me instantly.”
Lilias hastened to seek out Mr. Wingate, and hurry him to his lady's presence, speaking as a word in season to him on the way, ”I have set the stone a-trowling, look that you do not let it stand still.”
The steward, too prudential a person to commit himself otherwise, answered by a sly look and a nod of intelligence, and presently after stood in the presence of the Lady of Avenel, with a look of great respect for his lady, partly real, partly affected, and an air of great sagacity, which inferred no ordinary conceit of himself.
”How is this, Wingate,” said the Lady, ”and what rule do you keep in the castle, that the domestics of Sir Halbert Glendinning draw the dagger on each other, as in a cavern of thieves and murderers?--is the wounded man much hurt? and what--what hath become of the unhappy boy?”
”There is no one wounded as yet, madam,” replied he of the golden chain; ”it pa.s.ses my poor skill to say how many may be wounded before Pasche, [Footnote: Easter.] if some rule be not taken with this youth--not but the youth is a fair youth,” he added, correcting himself, ”and able at his exercise; but somewhat too ready with the ends of his fingers, the b.u.t.t of his riding-switch, and the point of his dagger.”
”And whose fault is that,” said the Lady, ”but yours, who should have taught him better discipline, than to brawl or to draw his dagger.”