CHAPTER II.
Well, lord, we have not got that which we have; 'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled, Being opposites of such repairing nature.
Henry VI. Part II.
IN the gorge of a pass or mountain glen, ascending from the fertileplains of East Lothian, there stood in former times an extensive castle,of which only the ruins are now visible. Its ancient proprietors werea race of powerful and warlike carons, who bore the same name with thecastle itself, which was Ravenswood. Their line extended to a remoteperiod of antiquity, and they had intermarried with the Douglasses,Humes, Swintons, Hays, and other families of power and distinctionin the same country. Their history was frequently involved in that ofScotland itself, in whose annals their feats are recorded. The Castle ofRavenswood, occupying, and in some measure commanding, a pass betweixtBerwickshire, or the Merse, as the southeastern province of Scotland istermed, and the Lothians, was of importance both in times of foreignwar and domestic discord. It was frequently beseiged with ardour, anddefended with obstinacy, and, of course, its owners played a conspicuouspart in story. But their house had its revolutions, like all sublunarythings: it became greatly declined from its splendour about the middleof the 17th century; and towards the period of the Revolution, the lastproprietor of Ravenswood Castle saw himself compelled to part with theancient family seat, and to remove himself to a lonely and sea-beatentower, which, situated on the bleak shores between St. Abb's Head andthe village of Eyemouth, looked out on the lonely and boisterousGerman Ocean. A black domain of wild pasture-land surrounded their newresidence, and formed the remains of their property.
Lord Ravenswood, the heir of this ruined family, was far from bendinghis mind to his new condition of life. In the civil war of 1689 hehad espoused the sinking side, and although he had escaped without theforfeiture of life or land, his blood had been attainted, and his titleabolished. He was now called Lord Ravenswood only in courtesy.
This forfeited nobleman inherited the pride and turbulence, though notthe forture, of his house, and, as he imputed the final declension ofhis family to a particular individual, he honoured that person with hisfull portion of hatred. This was the very man who had now become, bypurchase, proprietor of Ravenswood, and the domains of which the heir ofthe house now stood dispossessed. He was descended of a family much lessancient than that of Lord Ravenswood, and which had only risen to wealthand political importance during the great civil wars. He himselfhad been bred to the bar, and had held high offices in the state,maintaining through life the character of a skilful fisher in thetroubled waters of a state divided by factions, and governed bydelegated authority; and of one who contrived to amass considerable sumsof money in a country where there was but little to be gathered, and whoequally knew the value of wealth and the various means of augmenting itand using it as an engine of increasing his power and influence.
Thus qualified and gifted, he was a dangerous antagonist to the fierceand imprudent Ravenswood. Whether he had given him good cause for theenmity with which the Baron regarded him, was a point on which men spokedifferently. Some said the quarrel arose merely from the vindictivespirit and envy of Lord Ravenswood, who could not patiently beholdanother, though by just and fair purchase, become the proprietor ofthe estate and castle of his forefathers. But the greater part of thepublic, prone to slander the wealthy in their absence as to flatter themin their presence, held a less charitable opinion. They said that theLord Keeper (for to this height Sir William Ashton had ascended)had, previous to the final purchase of the estate of Ravenswood,been concerned in extensive pecuniary transactions with the formerproprietor; and, rather intimating what was probable than affirminganything positively, they asked which party was likely to have theadvantage in stating and enforcing the claims arising out of thesecomplicated affairs, and more than hinted the advantages which the coollawyer and able politician must necessarily possess over the hot,fiery, and imprudent character whom he had involved in legal toils andpecuniary snares.
The character of the times aggravated these suspicions. "In those daysthere was no king in Israel." Since the departure of James VI. to assumethe richer and more powerful crown of England, there had existed inScotland contending parties, formed among the aristocracy, by whom,as their intrigues at the court of St. James's chanced to prevail,the delegated powers of sovereignty were alternately swayed. The evilsattending upon this system of government resembled those which afflictthe tenants of an Irish estate, the property of an absentee. There wasno supreme power, claiming and possessing a general interest with thecommunity at large, to whom the oppressed might appeal from subordinatetyranny, either for justice or for mercy. Let a monarch be as indolent,as selfish, as much disposed to arbitrary power as he will, still, in afree country, his own interests are so clearly connected with those ofthe public at large, and the evil consequences to his own authority areso obvious and imminent when a different course is pursued, that commonpolicy, as well as common feeling, point to the equal distribution ofjustice, and to the establishment of the throne in righteousness. Thus,even sovereigns remarkable for usurpation and tyranny have been foundrigorous in the administration of justice among their subjects, in caseswhere their own power and passions were not compromised.
It is very different when the powers of sovereignty are delegated tothe head of an aristocratic faction, rivalled and pressed closely inthe race of ambition by an adverse leader. His brief and precariousenjoyment of power must be employed in rewarding his partizans, inextending his influence, in oppressing and crushing his adversaries.Even Abou Hassan, the most disinterested of all viceroys, forgot not,during his caliphate of one day, to send a douceur of one thousandpieces of gold to his own household; and the Scottish vicegerents,raised to power by the strength of their faction, failed not to embracethe same means of rewarding them.
The administration of justice, in particular, was infected by the mostgross partiality. A case of importance scarcely occurred in which therewas not some ground for bias or partiality on the part of the judges,who were so little able to withstand the temptation that the adage,"Show me the man, and I will show you the law," became as prevalent asit was scandalous. One corruption led the way to others still mroe grossand profligate. The judge who lent his sacred authority in one case tosupport a friend, and in another to crush an enemy, and who decisionswere founded on family connexions or political relations, could not besupposed inaccessible to direct personal motives; and the purse of thewealthy was too often believed to be thrown into the scale to weighdown the cause of the poor litigant. The subordinate officers of the lawaffected little scruple concerning bribery. Pieces of plate and bags ofmoney were sent in presents to the king's counsel, to influence theirconduct, and poured forth, says a contemporary writer, like billets ofwood upon their floors, without even the decency of concealment.
In such times, it was not over uncharitable to suppose that thestatesman, practised in courts of law, and a powerful member of atriumphant cabal, might find and use means of advantage over his lessskilful and less favoured adversary; and if it had been supposed thatSir William Ashton's conscience had been too delicate to profit by theseadvantages, it was believed that his ambition and desire of extendinghis wealth and consequence found as strong a stimulus in theexhortations of his lady as the daring aim of Macbeth in the days ofyore.
Lady Ashton was of a family more distinguished than that of her lord, anadvantage which she did not fail to use to the uttermost, in maintainingand extending her husband's influence over others, and, unless shewas greatly belied, her own over him. She had been beautiful, and wasstately and majestic in her appearance. Endowed by nature with strongpowers and violent passions, experience had taught her to employ theone, and to conceal, if not to moderate, the other. She was a severeadn strict observer of the external forms, at least, of devotion herhospitality was splendid, even to ostentation her address and manners,agreeable to the pattern most valued in Scotland at the period, weregrave, dignified, and severely re
gulated by the rules of etiquette. Hercharacter had always been beyond the breath of slander. And yet, withall these qualities to excite respect, Lady Ashton was seldom mentionedin the terms of love or affection. Interest--the interest of her family,if not her own--seemed too obviously the motive of her actions; andwhere this is the case, the sharp-judging and malignant public are noteasily imposed upon by outward show. It was seen and ascertained that,in her most graceful courtesies and compliments, Lady Ashton no morelost sight of her object than the falcon in his airy wheel turns hisquick eyes from his destined quarry; and hence, somethign of doubt andsuspicion qualified the feelings with which her equals received herattentions. With her inferiors these feelings were mingled with fear;an impression useful to her purposes, so far as it enforced readycompliance with her requests and implicit obedience to her commands, butdetrimental, because it cannot exist with affection or regard.
Even her husband, it is said, upon whose fortunes her talents andaddress had produced such emphatic influence, regarded her withrespectful awe rather than confiding attachment; and report said, therewere times when he considered his grandeur as dearly purchased at theexpense of domestic thraldom. Of this, however, much might be suspected,but little could be accurately known: Lady Ashton regarded the honour ofher husband as her own, and was well aware how much that would sufferin the public eye should he appear a vassal to his wife. In all herarguments his opinion was quoted as infallible; his taste was appealedto, and his sentiments received, with the air of deference which adutiful wife might seem to owe to a husband of Sir William Ashton's rankadn character. But there was something under all this which rung falseand hollow; and to those who watched this couple with close, and perhapsmalicious, scrutiny it seemed evident that, in the haughtiness ofa firmer character, higher birth, and more decided views ofaggrandisement, the lady looked with some contempt on her husband,and that he regarded her with jealous fear, rather than with love oradmiration.
Still, however, the leading and favourite interests of Sir WilliamAshton and his lady were the same, and they failed not to work inconcert, although without cordiality, and to testify, in all exteriorcircumstances, that respect for each other which they were aware wasnecessary to secure that of the public.
Their union was crowned with several children, of whom three survived.One, the eldest son, was absent on his travels; the second, a girl ofseventeen, adn the third, a boy about three years younger, residedwith their parents in Edinburgh during the sessions of the ScottishParliament and Privy Council, at other times in the old Gothic castleof Ravenswood, to which the Lord Keeper had made large additions in thestyle of the 17th century.
Allan Lord Ravenswood, the late proprietor of that ancient mansionadn the large estate annexed to it, continued for some time to wageineffectual war with his successor concerning various points to whichtheir former transactions had given rise, and which were successivelydetermined in favour of the wealthy and powerful competitor, until deathclosed the litigation, by summoning Ravenswood to a higher bar. Thethread of life, which had been long wasting, gave way during a fit ofviolent and impotent fury with which he was assailed on receiving thenews of the loss of a cause, founded, perhaps, rather in equity than inlaw, the last which he had maintained against his powerful antagonist.His son witnessed his dying agonies, and heard the curses which hebreathed against his adversary, as if they had conveyed to him a legacyof vengeance. Other circumstances happened to exasperate a passion whichwas, and had long been, a prevalent vice in the Scottish disposition.
It was a November morning, and the cliffs which overlooked the oceanwere hung with thick and heavy mist, when the portals of the ancientand half-ruinous tower, in which Lord Ravenswood had spent the last andtroubled years of his life, opened, that his mortal remains might passforward to an abode yet more dreary and lonely. The pomp of attendance,to which the deceased had, in his latter years, been a stranger, wasrevived as he was about to be consigned to the realms of forgetfulness.
Banner after banner, with the various devices and coats of this ancientfamily and its connexions, followed each other in mournful processionfrom under the low-browed archway of the courtyard. The principal gentryof the country attended in the deepest mourning, and tempered thepace of their long train of horses to the solemn march befitting theoccasion. Trumpets, with banners of crape attached to them, sentforth their long and melancholy notes to regulate the movements of theprocession. An immense train of inferior mourners and menials closedthe rear, which had not yet issued from the castle gate when the van hadreached the chapel where the body was to be deposited.
Contrary to the custom, and even to the law, of the time, the body wasmet by a priest of the Scottish Episcopal communion, arrayed in hissurplice, and prepared to read over the coffin of the deceased thefuneral service of the church. Such had been the desire of LordRavenswood in his last illness, and it was readily complied with by theTory gentlemen, or Cavaliers, as they affected to style themselves, inwhich faction most of his kinsmen were enrolled. The Presbyterian Churchjudicatory of the bounds, considering the ceremony as a bravading insultupon their authority, had applied to the Lord Keeper, as the nearestprivy councillor, for a warrant to prevent its being carried intoeffect; so that, when the clergyman had opened his prayer-book, anofficer of the law, supported by some armed men, commanded him to besilent. An insult which fired the whol assembly with indignation wasparticularly and instantly resented by the only son of the deceased,Edgar, popularly called the Master of Ravenswood, a youth of abouttwenty years of age. He clapped his hand on his sword, and biddingthe official person to desist at his peril from farther interruption,commanded the clergyman to proceed. The man attempted to enforce hiscommission but as an hundred swords at once glittered in the air, hecontented himself with protesting against the violence which had beenoffered to him in the execution of his duty, and stood aloof, a sullenadn moody spectator of the ceremonial, muttering as one who should say:"You'll rue the day that clogs me with this answer."
The scene was worthy of an artist's pencil. Under the very arch of thehouse of death, the clergyman, affrighted at the scene, and tremblingfor his own safety, hastily and unwillingly rehearsed the solemn serviceof the church, and spoke "dust to dust and ashes to ashes," overruined pride and decayed prosperity. Around stood the relations of thedeceased, their countenances more in anger than in sorrow, and the drawnswords which they brandished forming a violent contrast with their deepmourning habits. In the countenance of the young man alone, resentmentseemed for the moment overpowered by the deep agony with which he beheldhis nearest, and almost his only, friend consigned to the tomb of hisancestry. A relative observed him turn deadly pale, when, all ritesbeing now duly observed, it became the duty of the chief mourner tolower down into the charnel vault, where mouldering coffins showed theirtattered velvet and decayed plating, the head of the corpse which wasto be their partner in corruption. He stept to the youth and offered hisassistance, which, by a mute motion, Edgar Ravenswood rejected. Firmly,and without a tear, he performed that last duty. The stone was laidon the sepulchre, the door of the aisle was locked, and the youth tookpossession of its massive key.
As the crowd left the chapel, he paused on the steps which led to itsGothic chancel. "Gentlemen and friends," he said, "you have this daydone no common duty to the body of your deceased kinsman. The rites ofdue observance, which, in other countries, are allowed as the due of themeanest Christian, would this day have been denied to the body of yourrelative--not certainly sprung of the meanest house in Scotland--hadit not been assured to him by your courage. Others bury their dead insorrow and tears, in silence and in reverence; our funeral rites aremarred by the intrusion of bailiffs and ruffians, and our grief--thegrief due to our departed friend--is chased from our cheeks by the glowof just indignation. But it is well that I know from what quiver thisarrow has come forth. It was only he that dug the drave who could havethe mean cruelty to disturb the obsequies; and Heaven do as much tome and more, if I requite not to this man and h
is house the ruin anddisgrace he has brought on me and mine!"
A numerous part of the assembly applauded this speech, as the spiritedexpression of just resentment; but the more cool and judicious regrettedthat it had been uttered. The fortunes of the heir of Ravenswood weretoo low to brave the farther hostility which they imagined these openexpressions of resentment must necessarily provoke. Their apprehensions,however, proved groundless, at least in the immediate consequences ofthis affair.
The mourners returned to the tower, there, according to a custom butrecently abolished in Scotland, to carouse deep healths to the memory ofthe deceased, to make the house of sorrow ring with sounds of jovialityand debauch, and to diminish, by the expense of a large and profuseentertainment, the limited revenues of the heir of him whose funeralthey thus strangely honoured. It was the custom, however, and on thepresent occasion it was fully observed. The tables swam in wine,the populace feasted in the courtyard, the yeomen in the kitchen andbuttery; and two years' rent of Ravenswood's remaining property hardlydefrayed the charge of the funeral revel. The wine did its office on allbut the Master of Ravenswood, a title which he still retained, thoughforfeiture had attached to that of his father. He, while passing aroundthe cup which he himself did not taste, soon listened to a thousandexclamations against the Lord Keeper, and passionate protestations ofattachment to himself, and to the honour of his house. He listenedwith dark and sullen brow to ebullitions which he considered justly asequally evanescent with the crimson bubbles on the brink of the goblet,or at least with the vapours which its contents excited in the brains ofthe revellers around him.
When the last flask was emptied, they took their leave with deepprotestations--to be forgotten on the morrow, if, indeed, those whomade them should not think it necessary for their safety to make a moresolemn retractation.
Accepting their adieus with an air of contempt which he could scarceconceal, Ravenswood at length beheld his ruinous habitation cleared oftheir confluence of riotous guests, and returned to the deserted hall,which now appeared doubly lonely from the cessation of that clamour towhich it had so lately echoed. But its space was peopled by phantomswhich the imagination of the young heir conjured up before him--thetarnished honour and degraded fortunes of his house, the destructionof his own hopes, and the triumph of that family by whom they had beenruined. To a mind naturally of a gloomy cast here was ample roomfor meditation, and the musings of young Ravenswood were deep andunwitnessed.
The peasant who shows the ruins of the tower, which still crown thebeetling cliff and behold the war of the waves, though no mroe tenantedsaved by the sea-mew and cormorant, even yet affirms that on thisfatal night the Master of Ravenswood, by the bitter exclamations of hisdespair, evoked some evil fiend, under whose malignant influence thefuture tissue of incidents was woven. Alas! what fiend can suggest moredesperate counsels than those adopted under the guidance of our ownviolent and unresisted passions?