Ten Thousand a-Year. Volume 3

This event, of course, threw them again, for a time, into mourning. Lord Drelincourt attended the funeral of the late earl, which took place at Poppleton, and was plain and private; and a few days afterwards, yearning to see Yatton once again, and anxious also to give his personal directions concerning very many matters which required them, he accepted an offer of a seat in the carriage of Lord De la Zouch, who was going down for a few days to Fotheringham on business of importance. Lord Drelincourt agreed to take up his abode at Fotheringham during his brief stay in Yorkshire, and to give no one at Yatton a previous intimation of his intention to pay a visit to them—purposing, the morning after his arrival at Fotheringham, to ride over quietly, alone and unexpectedly, to the dear place of his birth, and scene of such signal trials and expected joys of restoration and reunion.

'Twas about four o'clock in the afternoon of a frosty day in the early part of December; and Dr. Tatham was sitting alone in his plainly-furnished and old-fashioned little study, beside the table on which Betty, his old housekeeper, had just laid his scanty show of tea-things—the small, quaintly-figured round silver tea-pot having been the precious gift, more than twenty years before, of old Madam Aubrey. On his knee lay open a well-worn parchment-covered Elzevir edition of Thomas à Kempis, a constant companion of the doctor's, which he had laid down a few moments before, in a fit of musing—and was gazing in the direction of the old yew-tree, a portion of which, with a gray crumbling corner of his church, at only some two dozen yards' distance, was visible through the window. On one side of his book-shelves hung his surplice on one peg, and on another his gown; and on the other his rusty shovel-hat and walking-stick. Over the mantelpiece were suspended two small black profile likenesses of old Squire Aubrey and Madam Aubrey, which they had themselves presented to the doctor nearly thirty years before. Though it was very cold, there was but a handful of fire in the little grate; and this, together with the modicum of brown sugar in the sugar-basin, and about two small spoonfuls of tea, which he had just before measured out of his little tea-caddy, into the cup, in order to be ready to put it into his tea-pot, when Betty should have brought in the kettle—and four thin slices of scantily buttered brown bread—all this, I say, seemed touching evidence of the straitened circumstances in which the poor doctor was placed. His clothes, too, very clean, very threadbare, and of a very rusty hue—down even to his gaiters—suggested the same reflection to the beholder. The five pounds which he had scraped together for purchasing a new suit, Mr. Titmouse, it will be remembered, had succeeded in cheating him out of. His hair was of a silvery white; and though he was evidently a little cast down in spirits, the expression of his countenance was as full of benevolence and piety as ever. He was, moreover, considerably thinner than when he was last presented to the reader; and well he might be, for he had since undergone great privation and anxiety. He—he, peaceful unoffending old soul!—had long been followed with pertinacious bitterness and persecution by two new inhabitants of the village; viz. the Rev. Smirk Mudflint and Mr. Bloodsuck, junior. The former had obtained a lease from Mr. Titmouse of the little structure which had formerly been Miss Aubrey's school, and had turned it into an Unitarian chapel—himself and family residing in part of the building. He preached every Sunday at Dr. Tatham, turning his person, his habits, his office, and his creed into bitter ridicule; and repeatedly challenging him, from his pulpit, to an open discussion of the points in difference between them! By means of his "moral" discourses every Sunday morning, and his "political" discourses every Sunday evening—and which he used all his powers to render palatable to those who heard him—he was undoubtedly seducing away many of the parishioners from the parish church; a matter which began visibly to prey upon the doctor's spirits. Then Mr. Bloodsuck, too, was carrying on the campaign briskly against the parson—against whom he had got a couple of actions pending at the suit of parishioners, in respect of his right to certain tithes which had never before been questioned by any one. Only that very day the impudent jackanapes—for that, I am sure, you would have pronounced Mr. Barnabas Bloodsuck at first sight—had sent a very peremptory and offensive letter to the doctor, which had been designed by its writer to have the effect of drawing him into a sudden compromise; whereas the doctor, with a just sense and spirit, had resolved never in any way to suffer his rights, and those of his successors, to be infringed. Many and many a weary walk to Mr. Parkinson's office at Grilston had these persecuting proceedings of Bloodsuck's cost the doctor, and also considerable and unavoidable expense, which, had he been in any other hands than those of good Mr. Parkinson, must by this time have involved the doctor in utter ruin, and broken his heart. Still generous according to his means, the good soul had, on his last visit to Grilston, purchased and brought home with him a couple of bottles of port-wine, which he intended to take on Christmas-day to the poor brother parson in an adjoining parish, to whom I alluded in the early part of this history. All these matters might well occasion Dr. Tatham anxiety, and frequent fits of despondency, such as that under which he was suffering, when he heard a gentle tapping at his door, while sitting in his study as I have described him. "Come in, Betty," quoth the doctor, in his usual kind and quiet way, supposing it to be his old housekeeper with his tea-kettle; for she had gone with it a few minutes before across the yard to the well, leaving the front door ajar till her return. As he uttered the words above-mentioned, the door opened. He sat with his back towards it; and finding, after a pause, that no one entered or spoke, he turned round in his chair to see the reason why; and beheld a gentleman standing there, dressed in deep mourning, and gazing at him with an expression of infinite tenderness and benignity. The doctor was a little of a believer in the reality of spiritual appearances; and, taken quite off his guard, jumped out of his chair, and, stared for a second or two in mute amazement, if not even apprehension, at the figure standing silently in the doorway.

"Why! Bless—bless my soul—can it be"—he stammered, and the next instant perceived that it was indeed, as I may say, the desire of his eyes—Mr. Aubrey, now become, as the doctor had a few days before heard from Mr. Parkinson, Lord Drelincourt.

"Oh my dear, old, revered friend! Do I see you once again?" exclaimed his Lordship, in a tremulous voice, as he stepped hastily up to the doctor, with his arms extended, and, grasping the hand of the doctor with vehement pressure, they both gazed at each other for some moments in silence, and with the tears in their eyes—Lord Drelincourt's soul touched within him by the evident alteration which had taken place in Dr. Tatham's appearance.

"And is it indeed true, my dear friend?" at length faltered the doctor, still gazing fondly at Lord Drelincourt.

"It is your old friend, Charles Aubrey! dearest doctor! God bless you, revered friend and instructor of my youth!" said Lord Drelincourt, with a full heart and a quivering lip: "I am come, you see, once more to Yatton, and first of all to you; and in your presence to acknowledge the goodness of God, for He has been very good to me!"

"The Lord God of thy fathers bless thee!" exclaimed Dr. Tatham, solemnly; and Lord Drelincourt reverently received the benison. A few moments afterwards he sat down, opposite the doctor, in the only spare chair there was in the room, and they were instantly engaged in eager and affectionate converse.

"Why, Mr. Aubrey," quoth the doctor, with a smile, but also a slight embarrassment, "I had forgotten—Lord Drelincourt, how strangely it sounds!"

"Yes, it is true, such is now my name; but, believe me, I am not yet reconciled to it, especially, dearest doctor, in your presence! Shall I ever be as happy as Lord Drelincourt as I have been as Charles Aubrey?"

"Ay, ay, dear friend, to be sure you will! 'Tis in the course of God's providence that you are raised to distinction, as well as restored to that which is your own! Long may you live to enjoy both! and, I hope, at Yatton," he added earnestly.

"Oh, can you doubt it, dearest doctor? My heart is only now recovering the wounds it received in being torn from this dear spot!"

"And Mrs. Au—I mean Lady Drelincourt. God Almighty bless her! and Kate—sweet, dear Kate! Well! She has not changed her name yet, I suppose?"

"Not yet," replied Lord Drelincourt, with a cheerful smile.

"And do you mean to say that you are all coming to old Yatton again?" inquired the doctor, rubbing his hands.

"Coming to Yatton again? 'Tis a little paradise to all of us! Here we wish to live; and when we follow those who have gone before us, there we wish to rest!" said Lord Drelincourt, solemnly, and he pointed towards the churchyard, with a look that suddenly filled the doctor's eyes with tears, for it brought full before them the funeral of Mrs. Aubrey.

"I have something for you," said Lord Drelincourt, after a pause, taking out his pocket-book, "from my wife and sister, who charged me to give it into your own hands with their fervent love;" and he gave two letters into the doctor's hands, which trembled with emotion as he received them.

"I shall read them by-and-by, when I am alone," said he, as, gazing fondly at the superscriptions, he placed the two letters on the mantelpiece.

"Come in! come in!" quoth the doctor, quickly, hearing a knocking at the door—"that's Betty. You have not forgotten old Betty, have you?" said he to Lord Drelincourt, as the good old woman opened the door in a flustered manner, with the kettle in her hands, and dropped an awful courtesy on seeing Lord Drelincourt, whom she instantly recognized.

"Well, Betty," said he, with infinite cordiality, "I am glad to see you again, and to hear that you are well!"

"Yes, sir!—if you please, sir!—thank you, sir!" stammered Betty, courtesying repeatedly, and standing, with the kettle in her hand, as if she did not intend to come in with it.

"That will do, Betty," quoth the doctor, looking delighted at Lord Drelincourt's good-natured greeting of his faithful old servant; "bring it in! And Thomas is quite well, too," he added, turning to Lord Drelincourt—Thomas being Betty's husband—and both of whom had lived with the doctor for some eighteen or twenty years—Thomas's business being to look after the doctor's nag while he kept one, and now to do odd jobs about the little garden and paddock. After one or two kind inquiries about him, "I must join you, Doctor—if you please," said Lord Drelincourt, as Betty put the kettle on the fire; "you'll give me a cup of tea"–

"A cup of tea? Ay, to be sure! Betty! here," said he, beckoning her to him, and whispering to her to bring out the best tea-things, and to run out into the village for a couple of tea-cakes, and a little more tea, and some eggs and butter, and half a pound of lump sugar—for the doctor was bent upon doing the thing splendidly, on so great an occasion; but Lord Drelincourt, who overheard him, and who had asked to take tea with him only that he might not delay the doctor's doing so—(for Lord Drelincourt had not yet dined)—interposed, declaring that if anything of the sort were done, he would leave immediately; adding, that he expected his horses at the door every moment, and also that Lord De la Zouch (who had come over with him from Fotheringham, and had come down to the Hall) would presently call to join him on his way home. This secured Lord Drelincourt's wishes, and you might within a few minutes' time have seen him partaking of the doctor's humble beverage, while they continued in eager and earnest conversation. Lord Drelincourt had that morning had a very long interview with Mr. Parkinson, from whom he had learned the life of persecution which the poor doctor had led for the last two years—listening to it with the keenest indignation. The doctor himself softened down matters a good deal in the account which he gave Lord Drelincourt—but his Lordship saw at once that the case had not been in the least overstated by Mr. Parkinson; and, without intimating anything of his intentions to the doctor, resolved upon forthwith taking certain steps which, had they known them, would have made two conspicuous persons in the village shake in their shoes.

"What's that, Doctor?" suddenly inquired Lord Drelincourt, hearing a noise as of shouting outside. Now, the fact was, that the appearance of Lord Drelincourt, and Lord De la Zouch, and their two grooms, as they galloped down the village on their way to the Hall, (from which Lord Drelincourt, as I have stated, had walked to the vicarage, whither he was to be followed by Lord De la Zouch,) had created a pretty sensation in the neighborhood; for Lord Drelincourt, rapidly as he rode in, was soon recognized by those who were about, and the news spread like wildfire that "my Lord the squire" had come back, and was then at Yatton—a fact which seemed to be anything but gratifying to Messrs. Bloodsuck and Mudflint, who were talking together, at the moment when Lord Drelincourt asked the question of Dr. Tatham, at the door of Mr. Mudflint, whose face seemed to have got several degrees sallower within a quarter of an hour, while Mr. Bloodsuck looked quite white. There was a continually increasing crowd about the front of the vicarage; and as they got more and more assured of the fact that Lord Drelincourt was at that moment with Dr. Tatham, they began to shout "hurrah!" So–

"What's that?" inquired Lord Drelincourt.

"Ah!—I know!" cried the doctor, with not a little excitement; "they've found you out, bless them!—hark!—I have not heard such a thing I don't know how long—I wonder they don't set the bells a-ringing!—Why, bless me! there's a couple of hundred people before the door!" exclaimed he, after having stepped into the front room, and reconnoitred through the window. Though the gloom of evening was rapidly deepening, Lord Drelincourt also perceived the great number that had collected together, and his eye having caught the approaching figure of Lord De la Zouch, for whom, and the grooms, the crowd made way, he prepared to leave. Lord De la Zouch dismounted, and, entering the vicarage, shook hands with the utmost cordiality with the little doctor, whom he invited to dine and sleep at Fotheringham on the morrow, promising to send the carriage for him. The little doctor scarce knew whether he stood on his head or his heels, in the flurry of the moment; and when he and Lord Drelincourt appeared at the door, and a great shout burst from those present, it was with difficulty that he could resist his inclination to join in it. It was growing late, however, and they had a long ride before them: so Lord Drelincourt, having stood for some moments bareheaded and bowing to all around, and shaking hands with those who pressed nearest, following the example of Lord De la Zouch, mounted his horse, and waving his hand affectionately to Dr. Tatham, rode off amid the renewed cheers of the crowd. From that moment worthy little Dr. Tatham had regained all his former ascendency at Yatton!

As the two peers sat together over their wine that evening, the fate of the Rev. Mr. Mudflint, and Barnabas Bloodsuck, junior, "gentleman, &c.," was sealed. The more that they talked together about the wanton and bitter insult and persecution which those worthies had so long inflicted, upon one, surely, of the most inoffensive, peaceable, and benevolent beings upon the earth, Dr. Tatham, the higher rose their indignation, the sterner their determination to punish and remove his enemies. The next morning Lord De la Zouch wrote up to town, directing instructions to be given to Mr. Winnington, who had conducted the proceedings in the actions of Wigley v. Mudflint, and Wigley v. Bloodsuck, to issue execution forthwith. Lord Drelincourt also did his part. Almost every house in the village was his property, and he instructed Mr. Parkinson immediately to take steps towards summarily ejecting the two aforesaid worthies from the premises they were respectively occupying—convinced that by so doing he was removing two principal sources of filth and mischief from the village and neighborhood; for they were the founders and most active members of a sort of spouting-club for radical and infidel speechifying, and which club their presence and influence alone kept together.

Early the next morning Lord Drelincourt returned to the Hall, having appointed several persons to meet him there, on business principally relating to the restoration of the Hall to its former state, as far as was practicable; at all events, to render it fit for the reception of the family within as short a period as possible. According to an arrangement he had made before quitting town, he found, on reaching the Hall, a gentleman from London, of great taste and experience, to whose hands was to be intrusted the entire superintendence of the contemplated reparations and restorations, both internal and external, regard being had to the antique and peculiar character of the mansion—it being his Lordship's anxious wish that Lady Drelincourt and Miss Aubrey, on their return, should see it, as nearly as might be, in the condition in which they had left it. Fortunately, the little Vandal who had just been expelled from it had done little or no permanent or substantial injury. There was the same great irregular mass of old brickwork, with its huge stacks of chimneys, just as they had ever known it, only requiring a little pointing. That fine old relic, the castellated gateway, clad in ivy, with its gray, crumbling, stone-capped battlements, and escutcheon over the point of the arch, had suffered no change; even the quaint, weather-beaten sun-dial stood in the centre of the grass-plot, within the court-yard, as they had left it. The yew-trees still lined the high walls which surrounded the court-yard; and the fine old clump of cedars of Lebanon was there—green, stately, and solemn, as in days of yore. The moment, however, that you passed the threshold of the Hall, you sighed at the change that had taken place. Where were now the armed figures, the pikes, bows, guns, spears, swords, and battle-axes, and the quaint old pictures of the early ancestors of the family of the Aubreys? Not a trace to be seen of them; and it gave Lord Drelincourt a pang as his eye travelled round the bare walls. But the case was not desperate. All the aforesaid pictures still lay rolled up in the lumber-room, where they had continued as articles utterly valueless ever since Mr. Titmouse had ordered them to be taken down. They had been brought from their obscurity, and now lay on the floor, having been carefully unrolled and examined by the man of taste, who undertook quickly to remove the incipient ravage of mould and dirt at present visible, and to have them suspended in their former position, in such a state as that only the closest scrutiny could detect any difference between their present and former condition. The other relics of antiquity—viz. the armor—had been purchased by the late Lady Stratton at one of the sales of Titmouse's effects, occasioned by an execution against him, and they still were at her late residence, and of course at Lord Drelincourt's disposal, as her Ladyship's administrator. These, on his seeing them, the man of taste pronounced to be very fine and valuable specimens of old English armor, and undertook to have them also in their old places, and in a far better condition even than before. Lord Drelincourt sighed repeatedly as he went over every one of the bare and deserted rooms in the mansion—nothing being left except the beautiful antique mantelpieces of inlaid oak, and the oak-panelling of the different apartments, which, as a part of the freehold, could not be seized as the personal property of Mr. Titmouse. His creditors had swept off, from time to time, everything that had belonged to him. The hall, the dining-room, breakfast-room, drawing-rooms, the library, the bedrooms, dressing-rooms, boudoirs of Mrs. Aubrey and his sister, the long galleries, the rooms in which Charles and Agnes used to romp and play about—were all now bare and desolate, and the echoes of their footfalls and voices, in passing through them, struck Lord Drelincourt's heart with sadness. But all this was to be easily and quickly remedied; for a carte blanche was given to the man of taste at his elbow, who undertook within two, or at most three months' time, to leave nothing for the eye or the heart to sigh for—guided, moreover, as all his movements would be, by those who were so deeply interested in their success. On reaching the two rooms in the north-eastern extremities of the building, the windows of which commanded a view of nearly three-fourths of the estate, he gazed around him in silence,—one which those beside him thoroughly appreciated. There was nothing to shock the eye or pain the heart; for as Mr. Titmouse had been restrained from cutting timber, behold! what a sight would be seen when, in the approaching spring, the groves and forests, stretching far and wide before him, should have put on all their bravery! And he found on inquiry, and going over a portion of the grounds, that Mr. Waters and Dickons had kept pretty sharp eyes about them, and maintained everything in infinitely better condition than could have been expected. Mr. Tonson had, moreover, looked very keenly after the game; and Pumpkin undertook, by spring-time, to make his gardens and greenhouses a sight delightful to behold. In a word, Lord Drelincourt left everything under the management of the London man of taste and of Mr. Griffiths, the former being guided, of course, in the purchase of the leading articles of furniture in town, from time to time, by the tastes of Lord and Lady Drelincourt, and Miss Aubrey. Mr. Griffiths was desired to re-engage as many of the former servants of Mr. Aubrey as he could; and informed Lord Drelincourt of two, in particular, who had signified their anxious wish to him on the subject; viz. Mrs. Jackson, the housekeeper, who had lived in that capacity with a brother of hers at York, on quitting the service of Mrs. Aubrey. She was, of course, to be immediately reinstated in her old place. The other was Harriet, Miss Aubrey's maid, who, it may be recollected, was so disconsolate at being left behind by Miss Aubrey, who had secured her a place at the late Lady Stratton's, at whose house she still lived, with several of the other servants, the establishment not having been yet finally broken up. The poor girl very nearly went distracted with joy on receiving, a short time afterwards, an intimation, that as soon as she had got her clothes in readiness, she might set off for town, and enter at once upon her old duties as lady's maid to Miss Aubrey. Finding, on inquiry, that there was not one single tenant upon the estate, whose rent had not been raised above that which had been paid in Mr. Aubrey's time, he ordered the rent of all to be reduced to their former amount, and inquiries to be made after several respectable tenants, whom the extortion of Mr. Titmouse and his agents had driven from their farms, with a view of restoring them, in lieu of their very questionable successors. Having thus set everything in train for a restoration to the former happy and contented state of things which prevailed at Yatton before the usurpation of Mr. Titmouse, Lord Drelincourt returned to town; but first left a hundred pounds in Dr. Tatham's hands, to be distributed as he thought proper among the poorer villagers and neighbors on Christmas-eve; and also insisted on the doctor's acceptance, himself, of fifty pounds in advance, on account of his salary, a hundred a-year, as chaplain to Lord Drelincourt, which appointment the doctor received from his Lordship's own hands, and with not a little delight and pride. His Lordship, moreover, desired Mr. Parkinson to hold him responsible for any little demand which might be due from the poor doctor, in respect of the litigation in which he had been involved; and thus Dr. Tatham was made a free man of again, with no further question about his right to tithes, or any more of the interruption of any of the sources of his little income, to which he had lately been subjected; and with fifty pounds, moreover, at his absolute disposal. The doctor made his appearance on Christmas-day in a very fine suit of black, new hat and all, and had a very full attendance at church, and, moreover, a very cheerful and attentive one.