Tales and Novels, Vol. VII by Maria Edgeworth

M >> Maria Edgeworth >> Tales and Novels, Vol. VII

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When success proved Mrs. Falconer to be right, "Now, Commissioner
Falconer! Now!" How she triumphed, and how she talked! Her sons all in
such favour--her daughters in such fashion! No party without the Miss
Falconers!--Miss Falconers must sing--Miss Falconers must play--Miss
Falconers must dance, or no lady of a house could feel herself happy,
or could think she had done her duty--no piano, no harp could draw such
crowds as the Miss Falconers. It was the ambition among the fashionable
men to dance with the Miss Falconers, to flirt with the Miss Falconers.
"Not merely flirting, ma'am," as Mrs. Falconer said, and took proper pains
should be heard, "but several serious proposals from very respectable
quarters:" however, none _yet_ exactly what she could resolve to accept for
the girls--she looked high for them, she owned--she thought she had a right
to look high. Girls in fashion should not take the first offers--they
should hold up their heads: why should they not aspire to rank, why not to
title, as well as to fortune?

Poor Petcalf! General Petcalf's son had been for some time, as it was well
known, desperately in love with Miss Georgiana Falconer; but what chance
had he now? However, he was to be _managed_: he was useful sometimes, as
a partner, "to whom one may say one is engaged when a person one does not
choose to dance with asks for the honour of one's hand--useful sometimes
to turn over the leaves of the music-book--useful always as an attendant
in public places--useful, in short, to be exhibited as a captive; for one
captive leads to another conquest." And Miss Arabella Falconer, too, could
boast her conquests, though nobody merely by looking at her would have
guessed it: but she was a striking exemplification of the truth of Lady
Jane Granville's maxim, that fashion, like Venus's girdle, can beautify any
girl, let her be ever so ugly.

And now the Falconer family having risen and succeeded beyond their most
sanguine hopes by a combination of lucky circumstances, and by adherence to
their favourite system, we leave them fortified in their principles, and at
the height of prosperity.

CHAPTER XI.

Fortune, as if she had been piqued by Mr. Percy's disdain, and jealous of
his professed reliance upon the superior power of her rival, Prudence,
seemed now determined to humble him and all his family, to try if she could
not force him to make some of the customary sacrifices of principle to
propitiate her favour.

Unsuspicious of the designs that were carrying forward against him in
secret, Mr. Percy had quite forgotten his fears that his wicked relation
Sir Robert Percy, and Solicitor Sharpe, might take advantage of the loss
of that deed which had never been found since the night of the fire at
Percy-hall. It was nearly two years afterwards that Mr. Percy received a
letter from his cousin, Sir Robert, informing him that he had been advised
to dispute the title to the Percy estate, that he had the opinion of the
first lawyers in England in his favour, and that he had given directions to
his solicitor, Mr. Sharpe, to commence a suit to reinstate the lawful heir
in the property of his ancestors.--Sir Robert Percy added something about
his reluctance to go to law, and a vast deal about candour, justice, and
family friendship, which it would be needless and unreasonable to repeat.

Fresh search was now made for the lost deed, but in vain; and in vain
Rosamond reproached herself with having betrayed the secret of that loss to
the revengeful attorney.--The ensuing post brought notice from Mr. Sharpe
that proceedings were commenced.--In Sir Robert's letter, though not in the
attorney's, there was obviously left an opening for an offer to compromise;
this was done either with intent to lure Mr. Percy on to make an offer,
which might afterwards appear against him, or it was done in the hope that,
intimidated by the fear of an expensive and hazardous suit, Mr. Percy might
give up half his estate, to secure the quiet possession of the remainder.
But they knew little of Mr. Percy who argued in this manner: he was neither
to be lured nor intimidated from his right--all compromise, "all terms of
commerce he disdained." He sent no answer, but prepared to make a vigorous
defence. For this purpose he wrote to his son Alfred, desiring him to spare
no pains or expense, to engage the best counsel, and to put them in full
possession of the cause. Alfred regretted that he was not of sufficient
standing at the bar to take the lead in conducting his father's cause: he,
however, prepared all the documents with great care and ability. From time
to time, as the business went on, he wrote to his father in good spirits,
saying that he had excellent hopes they should succeed, notwithstanding
the unfortunate loss of the deed; that the more he considered the case,
the more clearly the justice of their cause and the solidity of their
right appeared. Alas! Alfred showed himself to be but a young lawyer, in
depending so much upon right and justice, while a point of law was against
him. It is unnecessary, and would be equally tedious and unintelligible
to most readers, to dwell upon the details of this suit. Contrary to the
usual complaints of the law's delay, this cause went through the courts
in a short time, because Mr. Percy did not make use of any subterfuge to
protract the business. A decree was given in favour of Sir Robert Percy,
and he became the legal possessor of the great Percy estate in Hampshire,
which had been so long the object of his machinations.

Thus, at one stroke, the Percy family fell from the station and affluence
which they had so long, and, in the opinion of all who knew them, so well
enjoyed. Great was the regret among the higher classes, and great, indeed,
the lamentations of the poor in the neighbourhood, when the decree was
made known. It seemed as if the change in their situation was deplored
as a general misfortune, and as if it were felt by all more than by the
sufferers themselves, who were never seen to give way to weak complaints,
or heard to utter an invective against their adversary. This magnanimity
increased the public sympathy, and pity for them was soon converted into
indignation against Sir Robert Percy. Naturally insolent, and now elated
with success, he wrote post after post to express his impatience to come
and take possession of his estate, and to hasten the departure of his
relations from the family seat. This was as cruel as it was unnecessary,
for from the moment when they learnt the event of the trial, they had been
occupied with the preparations for their departure; for the resignation
of all the conveniences and luxuries they possessed, all the pleasures
associated with the idea of home; for parting with all the animate and
inanimate objects to which they had long and early habits of affection and
attachment. This family had never been proud in prosperity, nor were they
abject in adversity: they submitted with fortitude to their fate; yet they
could not, without regret, leave the place where they had spent so many
happy years.

It had been settled that the improvements which Mr. Percy had made on the
estate, the expense of the buildings and furniture at Percy-hall, of which
a valuation had been made, should be taken in lieu of all arrears of rent
to which Sir Robert might lay claim. In consequence of this award, Mr.
Percy and his family were anxious to leave every thing about the house and
place in perfect order, that they might fulfil punctually their part of
the agreement. The evening before they were to quit Percy-hall, they went
into every room, to take a review of the whole. The house was peculiarly
convenient and well arranged. Mr. Percy had spared nothing to render it
in every respect agreeable, not only to his guests, but to his family, to
make his children happy in their home. His daughters' apartments he had
fitted up for them in the neatest manner, and they had taken pleasure
in ornamenting them with their own work and drawings. They felt very
melancholy the evening they were to take leave of these for ever. They took
down some of their drawings, and all the little trophies preserved from
childhood, memorials of early ingenuity or taste, which could be of no use
or value to any one except to themselves; every thing else they agreed
to leave as usual, to show how kind their father had been to them--a
sentiment well suited to their good and innocent minds. They opened their
writing-tables and their drawing-boxes for the last time; for the last time
they put fresh flowers into their flower-pots, and, with a sigh, left their
little apartments.

All the family then went out to walk in the park and through the
shrubberies. It was a delightful summer's evening; the birds were
singing--"Caring little," as Rosamond said, "for our going away." The sun
was just setting, and they thought they had never seen the place look so
beautiful. Indeed Mr. and Mrs. Percy had, for many years, delighted in
cultivating the natural beauties of this picturesque situation, and their
improvements were now beginning to appear to advantage. But they were never
to enjoy the success of their labours! The old steward followed the family
in this walk. He stopped every now and then to deplore over each fine tree
or shrub as they passed, and could scarcely refrain from bursting into
invectives against _him_ that was coming after them into possession.

"The whole country cries shame upon the villain," John began; but Mr.
Percy, with a smile, stopped him.

"Let us bear our misfortunes, John, with a good grace; let us be thankful
for the happiness which we have enjoyed, and submit ourselves to the will
of Providence. Without any hypocrisy or affected resignation, I say, at
this instant, what with my whole heart I feel, that I submit, without
repining, to the will of God, and firmly believe that all is for the best."

"And so I strive to do," said John. "But only, I say, if it had pleased God
to order it otherwise, it's a pity the wicked should come _just_ after us
to enjoy themselves, when they have robbed us of all."

"Not of all," said Mr. Percy.

"What is it they have not robbed us of?" cried John: "not a thing but they
must have from us."

"No; the best of all things we keep for ourselves--it cannot be taken from
us--a good conscience."

"Worth all the rest--that's true," said John; "and that is what he will
never have who is coming here to-morrow--never--never! They say he don't
sleep at nights. But I'll say no more about him, only--he's not a good
man."

"I am sure, John, you are not a good courtier," said Mrs. Percy, smiling:
"you ought to prepare to pay your court to your new master."

"_My_ new master!" cried John, growing red: "the longest day ever I live,
I'll never have a new master! All that I have in the world came from you,
and I'll never have another master. Sure you will let me follow you? I will
be no trouble: though but little, may be I can do something still. Surely,
madam--surely, sir--young ladies, you'll speak for me--I shall be let
to follow the fortunes of the family, and go along with you into
_banishment_."

"My good John," said Mr. Percy, "since you desire to follow us into
_banishment_, as you call it, you shall; and as long as we have any thing
upon earth, you shall never want. You must stay here to-morrow, after we
are gone, to give up possession." (John could not stand this, but turned
away to hide his face.) "When your business is done," continued Mr. Percy,
"you may set out and follow us as soon as you please."

"I thank you, sir, kindly," said John, with a most grateful bow, that took
in all the family, "that's new life to me."

He said not a word more during the rest of the walk, except just as he
passed near the beach where the ship was wrecked, he exclaimed, "There was
the first beginning of all our misfortune: who would have thought that when
we gave them shelter we should be turned out so soon ourselves? 'twas that
drunken rascal of a Dutch carpenter was the cause of all!"

The next morning the whole family set out in an open carriage, which had
been made for the purpose of carrying as many of the young people as
possible upon excursions of pleasure. It was a large sociable, which they
used to call their _caravan_.

At the great gate of the park old John stopped the carriage, and leaning
over to his master, whispered, "I beg your pardon, sir, but God bless you,
and don't drive through the village: if you please, take the back road; for
I've just learned that _he_ is on the great road, and as near hand as the
turn at the school-house, and they say he wants to be driving in his coach
and four through the village as you are all going out--now I wouldn't for
any thing he had that triumph over us."

"Thank you, good John," said Mr. Percy, "but such triumphs cannot mortify
us."

Poor John reluctantly opened the gate and let the carriage pass--they drove
on--they cast a lingering look behind as they quitted the park--

--"Must I then leave thee, Paradise?"--

As they passed through the village the poor people came out of their houses
to take leave of their excellent landlord; they flocked round the carriage,
and hung upon it till it stopped, and then, with one voice, they poured
forth praises, and blessings, and prayers for better days. Just at this
moment Sir Robert Percy made his appearance. His equipage was splendid; his
coachman drove his four fine horses down the street, the middle of which
was cleared in an instant. The crowd gazed at the show as it passed--Sir
Robert gave a signal to his coachman to drive slower, that he might
longer enjoy the triumph--he put his head out of the coach window, but no
one cried, "God bless him!" His insolence was obviously mortified as he
passed the Percy family, for Mr. Percy bowed with an air of dignity and
cheerfulness which seemed to say, "My fortune is yours--but I am still
myself." Some of the spectators clapped their hands, and some wept.

Mr. Percy seemed to have prepared his mind for every circumstance of
his departure, and to be perfectly composed, or at least master of his
feelings; but a small incident, which had not been foreseen, suddenly moved
him almost to tears: as they crossed the bridge, which was at the farthest
end of the village, they heard the muffled bells of the church toll as if
for a public calamity [Footnote: On Mr. Morris's departure from Piercefield
the same circumstance happened.]. Instantly recollecting the resentment to
which these poor people were exposing themselves, by this mark of their
affection and regret, Mr. Percy went by a short path to the church as
quickly as possible, and had the bells unmuffled.

CHAPTER XII.

Mr. Percy fortunately possessed, independently of the Percy estate, a farm
worth about seven or eight hundred a year, which he had purchased with part
of his wife's fortune; on which he had built a lodge, that he had intended
for the future residence of one of his sons. _The Hills_ was the name of
this lodge, to which all the family now retired. Though it was in the same
county with Percy-hall, Clermont-park, Falconer-court, Hungerford-castle,
and within reach of several other gentlemen's seats, yet from its being
in a hilly part of the country, through which no regular road had been
made, it was little frequented, and gave the idea not only of complete
retirement, but of remoteness. Though a lonely situation, it was, however,
a beautiful one. The house stood on the brow of a hill, and looked into
a deep glen, through the steep descent of which ran a clear and copious
rivulet rolling over a stony bed; the rocks were covered with mountain
flowers, and wild shrubs--But nothing is more tiresome than a picture in
prose: we shall, therefore, beg our readers to recall to their imagination
some of the views they may have seen in Wales, and they will probably
have a better idea of this place than any that we could give by the most
laboured description, amplified with all the epithets in the English
language.

The house at the Hills, though finished, was yet but scantily furnished,
and was so small that it could hardly hold the family, who were now obliged
to take refuge in it. However, they were well disposed to accommodate each
other: they had habits of order, and had so little accustomed themselves to
be waited upon, that this sudden change in their fortune and way of life
did not appear terrible, as it would to many in the same rank. Undoubtedly
they felt the loss of real conveniences, but they were not tormented with
ideal wants, or with the pangs of mortified vanity. Evils they had to bear,
but they were not the most dreadful of all evils--those of the imagination.

Mr. Percy, to whom his whole family looked for counsel and support, now
showed all the energy and decision of his character. What he knew must be
done sooner or later he did decidedly at first. The superfluities to which
his family had been accustomed, were instantly abandoned. The great torment
of decayed gentry is the remembrance of their former station, and a weak
desire still to appear what their fortune no longer allows them to be.
This folly Mr. Percy had not to combat in his family, where all were eager
to resign even more of their own comforts than the occasion required. It
was the object now for the family who were at home to live as frugally as
possible, that they might save as much of their small income as they could,
to assist and forward the sons in their professions.

The eldest son, Godfrey, could not yet have heard of the change in his
father's fortune, and in his own expectations; but from a passage in his
last letter, it was evident that he had some idea of the possibility of
such a reverse, and that he was preparing himself to live with economy.
From Alfred and Erasmus Mr. Percy had at this trying time the satisfaction
of receiving at once the kindest and the most manly letters, containing
strong expressions of gratitude to their father for having given them such
an education as would enable them, notwithstanding the loss of hereditary
fortune, to become independent and respectable. What would have been the
difference of their fate and of their feelings, had they been suffered to
grow up into mere idle lounging gentlemen, or four-in-hand coachmen! In
different words, but with the same spirit, both brothers declared that this
change in the circumstances of their family did not depress their minds,
but, on the contrary, gave them new and powerful motives for exertion. It
seemed to be the first wish of their souls to fulfil the fond hopes and
predictions of their father, and to make some return for the care their
parents had taken of their education.

Their father, pleased by the sanguine hopes and ardent spirit expressed in
their letters, was, however, sensible that a considerable time must elapse
before they could make any thing by law or medicine. They were as yet only
in the outset of their professions, the difficult beginning, when men must
toil often without reward, be subject to crosses and losses, and rebukes
and rebuffs, when their rivals push them back, and when they want the
assistance of friends to help them forward, whilst with scarcely the means
to live they must appear like gentlemen.

Besides the faithful steward, two servants, who were much attached to the
family, accompanied them to their retirement. One was Mrs. Harte, who had
lived with Mrs. Percy above thirty years; and who, from being a housekeeper
with handsome wages and plenary power over a numerous household at
Percy-hall, now served with increased zeal at the Hills, doing a great
part of the work of the house herself, with the assistance only of a stout
country girl newly hired, whose awkwardness and ignorance, or, as Mrs.
Harte expressed it, whose _comical_ ways, she bore with a patience that
cost her more than all the rest. The other servant who followed the altered
fortunes of the Percy family was a young man of the name of Johnson, whom
Mr. Percy had bred up from a boy, and who was so creditable a servant that
he could readily have obtained a place with high wages in any opulent
family, either in the country or in London; but he chose to abide by his
master, who could now only afford to give him very little. Indeed, Mr.
Percy would not have kept any man-servant in his present circumstances, but
out of regard for this young man, who seemed miserable at the thoughts of
leaving him, and who undertook to make himself useful in the farm as well
as in the house.

Very different was Johnson from the present race of _fine_ town servants,
who follow with no unequal steps the follies and vices of their _betters_;
and who, by their insolence and extravagance, become the just torments of
their masters. Very different was Johnson from some country servants, who
with gross selfishness look solely to their own eating and drinking, and
whose only thought is how to swallow as much and do as little as possible.

As soon as he had settled his home, Mr. Percy looked abroad to a tract of
improveable ground, on which he might employ his agricultural skill. He had
reason to rejoice in having really led the life of a country gentleman. He
understood country business, and he was ably assisted in all the details
of farming and management. Never, in the most prosperous days, did the old
steward seem so fully interested in his master's affairs, so punctual and
active in executing his commands, and, above all, so respectful in his
manner to his master, as now in his fallen fortunes.

It would be uninteresting to readers who are not farmers to enter into a
detail of Mr. Percy's probable improvements. It is enough to say, that
his hopes were founded upon experience, and that he was a man capable of
calculating. He had been long in the habit of keeping accurate accounts,
not such as gentlemen display when they are pleased to prove that their
farm, produces more than ever farm produced before. All the tradesmen
with whom he had dealt were, notwithstanding his change of fortune, ready
to trust him; and those who were strangers, finding themselves regularly
paid, soon acquired confidence in his punctuality. So that, far from being
terrified at having so little, he felt surprised at having still so much
money at his command.--The enjoyment of high credit must surely give more
pleasurable feelings than the mere possession of wealth.

Often, during the first year after he had been deprived of the Percy
estate, Mr. Percy declared, that, as to himself, he had actually lost
nothing; for he had never been expensive or luxurious, his personal
enjoyments were nearly the same, and his active pursuits were not very
different from what they had always been. He had, it is true, less time
than he wished to give to literature, or to indulge in the company and
conversation of his wife and daughters; but even the pain of this privation
was compensated by the pleasure he felt in observing the excellences in
their characters which adversity developed.--It has by some persons been
thought, that women who have been suffered to acquire literary tastes,
whose understandings have been cultivated and refined, are apt to disdain
or to become unfit for the useful minutiae of domestic duties. In the
education of her daughters Mrs. Percy had guarded against this danger, and
she now experienced the happy effects of her prudence. At first they had
felt it somewhat irksome, in their change of circumstances, to be forced
to spend a considerable portion of their time in preparations for the mere
business of living, but they perceived that this constraint gave a new
spring to their minds, and a higher relish to their favourite employments.
After the domestic business of the day was done, they enjoyed, with fresh
delight, the pleasures of which it is not in the power of fortune to
deprive us.

Soon after the family were settled at the Hills, they were surprised by
a visit from Commissioner Falconer--_surprised_, because, though they
knew that he had a certain degree of commonplace friendship for them as
relations, yet they were aware that his regard was not independent of
fortune, and they had never supposed that he would come to seek them in
their retirement. After some general expressions of condolence on their
losses, their change of situation, and the inconveniences to which a large
family, bred up, as they had been, in affluence, must suffer in their
present abode, he went out to walk with Mr. Percy, and he then began to
talk over his own family affairs. With polite acknowledgment to Mr. Percy
of the advantage he had derived from his introduction to Lord Oldborough,
and with modestly implied compliments to his own address in turning that
introduction to the best possible account, Mr. Falconer led to the subject
on which he wanted to dilate.

"You see, my dear Mr. Percy," said he, "without vanity I may now venture
to say, my plans for advancing my family have all succeeded; my sons have
risen in the world, or rather have been pushed up, beyond my most sanguine
hopes."