The Little Ball O’ Fire E-Book

G. P. R. James

• Herausgeber: Classica Libris
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

“My father was a gentleman of small estate in Lincolnshire, whose family possessions, under a race of generous ancestors, had dwindled from splendid lordships to bare competence. His blood, which was derived from as noble a source as that of any in the land, had come down to him pure through a number of knights and nobles, who, though they were little scrupulous as to the means of spending their riches, were very careful not to augment them by cultivating any but the somewhat barren field of war. He made a love match with a daughter of the second Lord Wilmerton; and, in order that his wife might not draw unpleasant comparisons between the station of her husband and that of her father, he frequented the court, and lived beyond his means. He was already in difficulties when I was born; but, like a brave man, he resolved to meet them boldly, and, after some solicitation, obtained a small military appointment, which increased his revenue without adding to his expenses. Loyalty with him was a passion, which, like love in other men, prevented him from seeing any faults in its object; and, of course, as the court well knew that no benefits could make him more loyal than he already was, it showered its favours upon persons whose affection was to be gained, leaving him to struggle on without further notice.
My mother I hardly remember, though my memory is very good; but as her death took place before I was three years of age, her cares of my infancy were never extended even to my boyhood.
Left thus to conduct my education alone, my father, I firmly believe, would have suffered nothing to remain undone which could have contributed to render me a learned man, had not the civil war broken out, and all the royalists hastened to the support of the King. Amongst the first of the volunteers who flocked to the royal standard, when it was raised at Nottingham, was Captain Hall; and having been sent to Worcester with Prince Rupert, he showed himself the foremost in those acts of daring courage which turned the contest between Colonel Sandys and the Prince in favour of the Cavaliers. In every skirmish and in every battle, which took place throughout the course of the great rebellion my father had his share. The natural desire of stimulus and excitement, which was originally strong in his character, grew gradually into a habit, and from a habit became a passion. The tidings of an approaching conflict would, at any time, have induced him to ride as far and fast as other men would go for more pacific pastimes; and the commanders of the royal armies perceived a want in their ranks when, on looking along the line, they could not discover the face of Captain John Hall.”

Leseprobe

Copyright

First published in 1848

Copyright © 2022 Classica Libris

Preface

Madam, I should have confined myself to expressing, in terms of unfeigned admiration and respect, my gratitude for the interest which Your Imperial Majesty is pleased to take in the literature of my country, and in the efforts of so humble an individual as myself, had I not felt that the work which you have permitted me to inscribe to your name is in every way unworthy of being presented to one, alike illustrious by talents and virtues, and by rank. At the time that Your Imperial Majesty’s gracious message was communicated to me, the following pages were not only written, but in the press; and my strong desire to obey your commands without any delay, induces me to dedicate this work to you, although it is in some degree connected with a former production, already, I believe, in Your Majesty’s possession.

Under other circumstances, I might have laboured, though I certainly should have laboured in vain, to produce a work worthy of your acceptance; but I must then have delayed long what I was eager to perform promptly; and, most assuredly, nothing that I could have written would have worthily testified the admiration and pleasure with which I have marked, from afar, the immense efforts of yourself and your Imperial Consort to encourage literature and science in your dominions, and to improve the moral and social condition of your subjects.

That those efforts may be crowned with the most brilliant success, and repay you, to the last of your days, with the noblest recompense that monarchs can receive—the blessings of a happy and enlightened people—is the sincere prayer of

Your Imperial Majesty’s

most humble

and most obedient Servant,

George Payne Rainsford James

Chapter 1

My father was a gentleman of small estate in Lincolnshire, whose family possessions, under a race of generous ancestors, had dwindled from splendid lordships to bare competence. His blood, which was derived from as noble a source as that of any in the land, had come down to him pure through a number of knights and nobles, who, though they were little scrupulous as to the means of spending their riches, were very careful not to augment them by cultivating any but the somewhat barren field of war. He made a love match with a daughter of the second Lord Wilmerton; and, in order that his wife might not draw unpleasant comparisons between the station of her husband and that of her father, he frequented the court, and lived beyond his means. He was already in difficulties when I was born; but, like a brave man, he resolved to meet them boldly, and, after some solicitation, obtained a small military appointment, which increased his revenue without adding to his expenses. Loyalty with him was a passion, which, like love in other men, prevented him from seeing any faults in its object; and, of course, as the court well knew that no benefits could make him more loyal than he already was, it showered its favours upon persons whose affection was to be gained, leaving him to struggle on without further notice.

My mother I hardly remember, though my memory is very good; but as her death took place before I was three years of age, her cares of my infancy were never extended even to my boyhood.

Left thus to conduct my education alone, my father, I firmly believe, would have suffered nothing to remain undone which could have contributed to render me a learned man, had not the civil war broken out, and all the royalists hastened to the support of the King. Amongst the first of the volunteers who flocked to the royal standard, when it was raised at Nottingham, was Captain Hall; and having been sent to Worcester with Prince Rupert, he showed himself the foremost in those acts of daring courage which turned the contest between Colonel Sandys and the Prince in favour of the Cavaliers. In every skirmish and in every battle, which took place throughout the course of the great rebellion my father had his share. The natural desire of stimulus and excitement, which was originally strong in his character, grew gradually into a habit, and from a habit became a passion. The tidings of an approaching conflict would, at any time, have induced him to ride as far and fast as other men would go for more pacific pastimes; and the commanders of the royal armies perceived a want in their ranks when, on looking along the line, they could not discover the face of Captain John Hall.

During the first year of the civil war I was left at home, under the charge of my nurse, and of the events of that period I, of course, remember but little. But shortly after the taking of Birmingham, by Prince Rupert, a party of Gettes’s brigade were quartered at our house for three days, swept the whole estate of everything that it produced, carried off all that could tempt their rapacity, and, on their departure, set fire to the house, as that of a notorious malignant.

My father’s home had by this time become the tented field. Houseless and nearly penniless, the nurse carried me away in search of my only surviving parent, whose regiment was quartered at a few miles distance; and being a woman who loved quiet, and hated to see houses burned over head, she resigned her charge of me as soon as she had conscientiously placed me in the hands of my natural protector. But the addition of a child of four years old to his camp equipage was not by any means desirable in my father’s eyes; and for some time he talked of placing me with a relation here, or a friend there, where I might remain in security. Two or three months, however, fled without this plan being executed. We had often during that time to change our quarters; passed through more than one adventure; were involved in more than one severe struggle and encountered as many hardships as a longer campaign could have inflicted. My father found that I bore up stoutly against them all, that I was not so great an encumbrance, in moments of danger and haste, as he had expected; and that in those lapses of inaction which will break in upon a soldier’s life, I afforded him amusement and occupation of the tenderest and most engaging kind. Thus I soon became necessary to his comfort and his happiness; and, though he would often talk still, of having me placed in some situation where I could be properly instructed in arts and sciences, and learned lore, it became evident to everyone who saw us together that he would never part with me so long as he could keep me with him. To make up for the want of other knowledge, however, he himself began, from my very earliest years, to teach me everything that might render me successful in that way of life which he himself had so ardently embraced. My hands, almost in infancy, were accustomed to the sword, the dag, and the petronel; and I remember, ere I was six years old, being permitted, as a high favour, to apply the match to the touchhole of a culverin that commanded a road by which the Roundheads were advancing.

Many, too, were the dangers through which I passed in safety. Often in times of surprise and confusion have I sat upon the peak of my father’s saddle, while he cut his way through the enemy; and often have I stood as a mere child amidst the charging squadrons and the bristling pikes of a general field of battle. Strife and bloodshed became so familiar to my mind, that I could hardly conceive another state of things; and when any occasional pause took place in the dreadful struggle that then desolated our native land, I used to wonder at the space of time such idleness was suffered to continue, and to long for the moment of activity and exertion. It was with joy and satisfaction that my father beheld this disposition in his son, and he strove by every means in his power to promote its growth, and to direct the efforts that it prompted. He taught me to be quick and decisive, as well as bold and fearless: he bade me always think, in the first place, what was best to be done, and how it might best be executed; and then to perform what my reason had suggested without either fear or hesitation. Always keeping his view fixed upon the ultimate advantage of the cause he had espoused, he zealously instructed me to remark and remember every part of the country through which we passed in our wandering life, and the person of every one who was brought into temporary connexion with us in the changing fortunes of those adventurous times.

Besides teaching me to ride and to shoot, and to perform all other military exercises, he did not fail to give me what little education, of a milder kind, circumstances permitted, during the short lapses of tranquillity which occasionally intervened. He was himself, however, obliged to be my preceptor; for he was not only prevented from engaging any other person in that capacity, by our continual changes from place to place, but he was also rendered unable to do so by his pecuniary circumstances, which had by this time been reduced to the lowest ebb. Our own property had been sequestrated—the King had no money to bestow; and, although Captain Hall sometimes enjoyed a moment of temporary prosperity, after squeezing some rich parliamentarian, or capturing some inimical town, his whole property more usually consisted in his horse, his sword, and his son. I acquired, it is true, in a desultory manner, some knowledge of history, geography, and arithmetic; but this, together with a smattering of Latin, and the capability of writing and reading, was all that I could boast of by the time I was ten years old.

Our moments of quiet, indeed, were always of very short duration; and, during all my early remembrances, I scarcely can recollect having passed six weeks without seeing blood flow in civil strife.

It must not be thought, however, that our state was melancholy or painful. To those who thought as little of human life as the persons did by whom I was generally surrounded, this kind of existence was gay and happy enough. When they saw a comrade sent to his long home, or a friend fall dead by their side, a minute’s mourning, and a vow to revenge him, was all that the sight excited; and many a cheerful bowl, and a gay jest, would circulate in the evening amongst the Cavaliers who had lost, in the morning, the dearest acquaintances and oldest companions.

Habit is a wonderful thing; and it would be difficult to make other people comprehend how little emotion bloodshed or massacre produces in the minds of men accustomed to be daily spectators of such scenes. It is not at all surprising then, that a boy—born, as it were, and brought up in the midst of them—should feel their awful nature less than others and should enter with more pleasure into the adventurous excitement which they certainly afford. Such, at all events, was the case with myself; and although I have learned, from after events, to believe that my heart was neither naturally hard nor cruel, yet it is scarcely possible to describe the joy and enthusiasm I experienced on the approach of strife or battle, the triumph that I felt at the overthrow or death of any remarkable foe, or the careless disregard with which I viewed the slaughter of my countrymen, and the fall even of those I personally knew. This military zeal was known and remarked by all my father’s comrades; and the amusement and gratification which they derived from my early passion for that course of life, to which they had given themselves up at a more mature age, caused me to be a general favourite with every old soldier in the ranks of the royalists; so that each one vied with the other in exciting me more and more upon the very track which I was already too eager to pursue. Amongst the Cavaliers I was generally known by the name of “Little Ball-o’-Fire,” and I soon learned to be proud of that appellation, and vexed when I was addressed by any other. In times of prosperity I was loaded with presents and caresses; and in moments of defeat and danger there was still someone to think of and protect Little Ball-o’-Fire, the soldier’s son. Nor were these good deeds entirely without requital on my part; for, shrewd, active, and fearless, I was often enabled to assist the defeated or pursued Cavalier, to mislead the Parliamentarian by false information, or to gain intelligence of the enemy’s movements, and to guide my friends either to security or victory.

Amongst all the comrades and connexions of my father, Goring, afterwards Lord Norwich, was the foremost in his affections; and with him also I was an infinite favourite, although there were several others to whom I was personally more attached. I remember, however, many instances of great favour received from him; and, as difficulties multiplied round the royal cause, and as dangers threatened more and more imminently the head of our sovereign, it was to the exertions and friendship of Lord Goring that we were, more than once, indebted for our existence. With him we served in many a campaign in Kent and Sussex: with him have I aided my father to empty many a flagon when the fight was over; and with him have we lain in concealment for weeks together, when our paths were surrounded by enemies against whom our force was too weak to contend.

At length, when I was little more than ten years old, and a momentary gleam of success brightened the cause of the Cavaliers, my father and Lord Goring unfortunately separated; and with a small but well-appointed troop we hastened across the country with the intention of joining the royal army, which was then marching towards Cornwall. At Bolton-le-Moors, however, while we were marching gaily along, without the slightest idea that there was an enemy in our neighbourhood, we were suddenly surprised by a party of the parliamentarian forces; and, after a rapid but desperate struggle, every man of my father’s troop was put to death. He himself fell amongst the last, brought from his horse to the ground by a ball through the neck. I was at the distance of about fifty yards from him, and hastened up to give him aid; but just as I was running forward, I saw one of the pikemen stoop over him, and, while my father held up his hand, in the vain endeavour to ward off the blow, the man drove his weapon through him, and pinned him to the ground. I had a large horse-pistol in my hand, which was instantly directed to the pikeman’s head; and, had I but had time to discharge it, he would, most assuredly, have lain beside the gallant officer he had just killed. But, at that moment, one of his comrades struck me across the head, with the staff of his pike, crying, “So much for thee, young viper!” and brought me, stunned and powerless, to the ground.

Fortunate it was for me that the blow, without being sufficiently violent to bereave me of life, had been severe enough to deprive me of all sense or motion, for I was thus passed over as dead, and I found afterwards that no one had been taken to mercy by the victors. It was evening when we began a fight, which, in duration, did not last ten minutes; but when I woke from the sort of sleep into which I had fallen, I found the moon shining bright upon the moors, with my father and five-and-twenty gallant soldiers lying dead around me. In truth, this was the first event that ever made me think of death, even for a moment, as of a thing to be feared, or regard strife as the great destroyer of all dear affections and kindred ties. The sight was horrible enough, to see the bodies of such a number of brave and noble-hearted men now cold, inanimate, and most of them stripped of everything valuable, lying dead in the pale moonlight, with their faces bearing all the various expressions which the human countenance can assume under different modes of violent death; but it was the sight of my father’s corpse which brought it home to my own heart.

When I had recovered my senses completely—which was not for several minutes after consciousness began to return—crept onward to the spot where my father had fallen, which was not above ten paces from that on which I had been lying; and as I gazed on his still, silent face, and thought of all the affection towards myself which I had seen it bear so often, I could not help feeling that death is indeed a horrible thing. I looked at it long, till the moon began to go down, and I knew not well what to do. I had no means of burying the body, and yet there was a feeling in my bosom, not to be defined, which would not let me leave the corpse of my father uninterred for the ravens to make it their prey, or the dogs to mangle it.

Near the spot, however, there was a little copse, with some tall trees rising out of the brushwood; and, after many a painful thought, thither I retreated for shelter. As I knew not who might visit the field from the town, and as I had heard that the people of the neighbourhood were rank Roundheads, I thought it best to climb one of the oaks; and there I watched till the dawn of morning. Hardly was the sky grey with the first light when I saw six or seven people coming over the Downs with spades and shovels, and I soon found that their purpose was to bury the dead. By them that office was performed decently enough on the spot itself; and in about three or four hours it was all over, leaving no trace of the skirmish, but the turf beaten up by the horses’ feet, and here and there died with gore, and the long low mound of fresh earth which covered the trench containing the dead bodies. I found, by the conversation of the men employed, that this act of charity had been performed by order of some persons in the little town who had witnessed the affair; and who, partly moved by a sense of decency, and partly with a view to salubrity, had caused the corpses to be thus covered over with earth.

I was now, like many another, alone in all the earth; without friends, or home, or resource; without money, or protection, or expectation; but perhaps I was better fitted for such circumstances than anyone who was ever yet cast an orphan upon the world. I was accustomed to rely upon myself alone; to take every event as I found it; and I had been so long in the habit of seeing the sunshine and the shade, the defeat and the triumph, the disaster and the success, succeed each other like April clouds and beams, that though my heart was full of mourning for my father, yet I confidently anticipated that the next cast of the die in fortune’s hand would reverse my fate, and bring me back to prosperity again.

I was mistaken, however. A long series of sufferings ensued; and they were sufferings of a nature that I had never encountered before. I had often, indeed, undergone privation, and known poverty. I had often been more than one day without tasting food and had slept for many a night together on the bare ground; but all these inconveniences were part of the soldier’s fate, matters which, however unpleasant at the time, were laughed at and forgotten as soon as they were over. Now, however, I had to endure poverty without one alleviating circumstance, or one consoling reflection.

All that I had on earth, at the moment my father was slain, consisted of two crown pieces, which had been given me by Lord Goring when we parted; but when I came to seek for them, after recovering my senses, I found that they had not escaped the researches of the plunderers who had stripped the dead around me. My clothes, indeed, probably being of little value either in point of size or quality, had been left me; and these, with a pistol and a dagger, which I found upon the ground, constituted my whole property, when at length I left the earth that contained the body of my unfortunate parent, and went forth again into the world.

It would be difficult to give any detailed account of the life I now led. I wandered over almost every part of England, seeking a precarious subsistence by every means that my habits and education permitted. Often, I fell in with old comrades of my father; and then I was sure of protection and assistance as long as they had the means of affording it. Often, I joined myself to a troop of Cavaliers, and for a few days lived the life to which I had been accustomed in former years. But the power of the Parliament was daily increasing, that of the King daily going down; and, one by one, every force to which I joined myself was dispersed, and I was again obliged to seek my way alone. I never, however, yielded for one moment to despair; and at times—when I have shared in the stores provided by nature for the birds in the air, when my sole food has been haws and whortle-berries, roots and acorns—I have hummed to myself:

“There’s a better time coming!”

and gone on with a light heart to seek a richer meal for the next day.

Although to plunder or to kill a Roundhead in any way that chance happened to present, was, in my mind, at that time, neither sin nor shame, yet I cannot remember ever having done what I should even now consider an evil act on my own account. Nevertheless, I must acknowledge, that, when a wounded or a fugitive companion wanted food or other necessaries, and could not obtain them for himself, I have often ventured beyond any code of morality that I know of and have gone down to spoil the Philistines with indescribable glee.

Well known to every leader in the royal cause, and almost to every soldier, I was often employed as a guide, and still more frequently as a messenger. In the latter capacity, indeed, I was generally successful, even where others would probably have failed; and when Langdale rose in Wales he intrusted his design to me, for the purpose of having it clearly communicated to Musgrave in the north, and to the Cavaliers in Kent. I received no written document, indeed, although my youth and my knowledge of the country enabled me, in general, to pass unmolested: but Langdale knew that he could trust to my never-failing memory to repeat every word as he had spoken it; and was also aware that the other royalists would trust to my report.

This commission I executed with ease and safety, as far as my journey to the north went; but in making my way towards Kent, I encountered more difficulties and some dangers. The small stock of money with which I had been furnished failed me before the object was accomplished; and at Reading I was recognised by a Puritan whom I had once, about six months before, tripped up into a river, while I ran off with a fat baked pig, which he was carrying out of the town from the baker’s oven. Of the pig my share had been small, having performed the feat in favour of three old comrades who were lying concealed in the neighbouring fields, and were half dying of hunger: but, in the present case, the Roundhead made no nice distinctions; and as soon as he set eyes upon me, caught me by the throat, conveyed me to the town prison, notwithstanding my most vigorous resistance, and left me in the hands of a gaoler, whose tokens of affection remained upon my skin for several weeks afterwards. Not at all admiring my fare or treatment in the prison, and having also acquired a strong distaste to remaining long in any one place, the very first opportunity afforded by open doors I made my escape—not unpursued, it is true; but that mattered little; for at that time it was only necessary to give me the free use of my limbs, and a start of ten paces, and the man would have been swift and strong indeed that could have overtaken me.

Several other adventures also befell me: but at length I made my way into Kent; and here, to my unspeakable joy, I found myself amongst a royalist population, and saw in every part of the county preparations for a great effort in favour of the King. I heard, in every quarter, too, that Lord Goring was to take the command of the forces; and, sure of receiving protection and assistance, I made my way forward to join him, with a feeling in my heart that a change was about to come over my fate. T was half starved by this time and was all in rags; but many a better Cavalier than myself was in the same state, and I did not fear that my father’s old friend would deny me.

Before I could reach the army, however, the royalist force had advanced towards London, and were again in retreat; and when I arrived in Maidstone, I found the Cavaliers pouring in, and learned that the enemy were following fast upon their steps. During the whole of that evening I could not find Lord Goring, (who, by the way, had, before this, become Earl of Norwich,) but I met with many an old acquaintance amongst the officers, and every kindness was shown to the son of Captain Hall. As an attack was expected early the next morning, the troops were under arms before dawn; and as the Earl was riding along the line, I ran up to the side of his horse, and spoke to him. For a moment, in the rags that now covered me, he did not recognise his friend’s child, and replied, sharply, “Get along, boy! get along! I cannot speak to thee now!”

It was the first rebuff I had ever received from a Cavalier, and I thought that my heart would have broken; but I still clung to his stirrup, and said, “What, my Lord, have you forgot Little Ball-o’-Fire?” At that name he drew in his rein short, gazed upon my face for a moment, and then stooping down over his saddle bow, he caught me in his arms, and lifted me quite up to his bosom. “Forget thee! no, my boy! no!” he cried, “and now I have found thee again, thou shalt never quit me, for thy good father’s sake.”

There was little time given for farther conversation. The enemy had been more on the alert than we expected, and were, by this time, rapidly advancing, and the shot of their artillery began to tell upon our line. Everyone has heard of the gallant defence of Maidstone: but it soon became clear that we could not maintain the position in which we were first attacked; and Lord Goring, who had laid out his plan the night before, ordered a slow and firm retreat to the ground he had fixed upon, at the back of the town. Before he left the green, however, he beckoned me up, and gave me a scrap of paper, on which he had written something hastily. “Get thee behind that house, Ball-o’-Fire,” he said, “and wait there till you see a young gentleman come up with a troop of Cavaliers. Ask if he be Colonel Masterton: give him that paper, and then guide him down by the back of the town to the hollow way, by which the enemy must advance—take him to any point he can best cut his way through, and bring him to me, on the edge of yon hill.”

I did as I was bid; and Lord Goring himself remained for about ten minutes longer with the Kentish horse, keeping the green firmly against the enemy, while the other regiments filed off, and took up their position on the slope beyond. At length, he too retreated; and I hid myself while the enemy passed over the same ground. Scarcely was the green clear, when up at the full gallop came a young gentleman, seemingly scarcely twenty, with as gallant a regiment of horse as ever I saw. He halted his men before “The Bush” ale-house, and then rode on a few yards to see what was passing in the hollow way and on the slope.

His countenance was a pleasant one, at least to me; with a broad open brow, and quick fine eyes; and although I saw by the manner in which he looked at some dead and wounded soldiers who were scattered here and there, that he was not so habituated to scenes of death and conflict as myself, yet I could not help thinking that he must be the Colonel Masterton to whom I was ordered to address myself. I watched him for a minute, as his keen rapid glance ran over the confused spectacle that was passing beyond the town; and as I saw him turn his horse, and ride back towards his men, I ran up and spoke to him. At first, he did not distinctly hear what I said, but he bent down his head towards me with a good-humoured smile, and I again repeated the words “Colonel Masterton.”

“Well, my little man,” he replied, with a look of surprise, “what is it?”

I saw at once, from his tone and his look, that I was right, and I gave him the billet from Lord Norwich. He read it attentively; and then asked, “Can you lead me by some bypath to the left of the enemy’s line?” I answered that I could; and, without more ado, set off before him, and conducted him by the back streets to a point where a lime road led out into the country.

The moment that his eye gained a clear sight of the enemy, I observed it mark every part of their position, rest fixed on one particular spot for an instant longer than anywhere else; and I saw that God had made him a soldier. His plan was evidently formed; his orders were short, clear, and accurate; and, drawing out his regiment from the town, he charged a large body of cavalry, who, together with some pieces of artillery, lay upon the extreme left of the enemy’s line, and in a moment drove them to the devil.

I ran on as hard as I could to see what was going forward, and, just as I came up, I found the Roundhead horse forced back into the lines of the pikemen; and, one of the first faces that I beheld, amongst the Parliamentarian foot, was that of the man who had killed my father. I never forget faces, and his I was not likely to forget. The fellow was pike in hand, in front of the young Cavalier; and I had just time to mark him so as not to be mistaken, when Colonel Masterton’s horse passed the pike, and at one blow of the rider’s sword the Roundhead went down never to rise again.

The battle was like all other battles; but by one means or another I contrived to keep near Colonel Masterton’s regiment through the whole affair, till just when they were in some difficulty I offered to guide them up the lime road to Lord Goring, if one of the men would take me behind him on his horse. The young gentleman seemed surprised to find me so near him; and after another charge upon a body of London troopers we made our way forward and reached the brow of the hill where the Commander-in-chief then stood.

The event of that day everyone knows. The enemy were repulsed at all points, but it could hardly be considered as a battle won, for we were ultimately obliged to retreat. After a long, severe march, we halted for the night, and I remained quartered with Colonel Masterton and his regiment and was treated with the greatest kindness both by officers and men. It was soon found that the army, being chiefly composed of raw and ill-disciplined troops, could not be held together; and the same night Colonel Masterton was ordered to lead his regiment towards the right of the enemy’s line of advance, and, if possible, to effect a diversion, while Lord Goring, with whatever veteran troops could be collected, endeavoured to cross the country, and throw himself into Colchester. After having attacked an outpost, against which he was particularly directed, the young officer was ordered to disband a foot regiment which was joined to his cavalry force; and then—making the best of his way back to Devonshire, whence he had come—to disperse his men, and keep quiet till better times. As his family, from particular circumstances, although attached to the royal cause, had not called upon themselves the indignation of the Parliament, in near so high a degree as it had been excited against Lord Goring, that nobleman, on giving me to Colonel Masterton as a guide, made him promise that he would always protect and never abandon me; and well did he keep his word.

Chapters 2–6[1]

Chapter 7

When all these affairs were settled, and my young Lord Masterton and fair lady were looking as pleased as heart could wish, going about with each other from morning till night, and seeming perfectly contented in every respect, the house began to grow tedious enough; for though, perhaps, in the wide range of human enjoyments there is no greater pleasure than that of contributing to render other people happy, there are few things more tiresome than looking on after the work is complete. I loved Lord Masterton, it is true, as sincerely as it was possible; for dangers encountered with him, and services both rendered to him and received from him, had of course made him very dear to me. I loved Lady Emily, too, just enough less dearly than I did my lord to make my affection distant and respectful; and they both loved me, very much, from the same motives that I loved them. Nevertheless, I acknowledge again that the time hung very heavy upon my hands; and after the first week of the honeymoon, with all its bustle and its gaiety was over, I began to long for something new.

I have no doubt that Lord Masterton, who was keen enough in perceiving other people’s feelings, had no difficulty in understanding that the happiness of himself and his wife was too quiet and tranquil in its nature to be very amusing to other people; and knowing perfectly that I was of a disposition to which activity, either mental or corporeal, was absolutely necessary, he took no small pains, as soon as he could think of anything besides his bride, to give me full occupation, in supplying, what he called, the defects in my education. I was taught French thoroughly, which, to say truth, has been of great use to me; but, at the same time, I was filled with a great deal more Latin than I ever knew what to do with; and an attempt was made to cram me with Greek, which I resisted with all the repugnance of a child for an emetic. Still Lord Masterton, thinking himself bound to act the part of an elder brother to the orphan boy he had taken under his protection, persevered in the attempt, and several other branches of science were added to my daily routine of instruction; but I need hardly tell the reader, that this sort of occupation was the least palatable that it is possible to conceive in the estimation of a boy brought up as I had been.

I believe, and indeed, am sure, that my good young lord saw how distasteful the whole was to me; for I have often remarked, when he casually entered my place of study, that a slight smile would play upon his lip, as he noticed any of the fretful and impatient movements with which I accompanied my lessons. He persevered for nearly nine months, however, thinking it absolutely necessary, I imagine, both to give me such instructions, and to tame, in some degree, my wild and restless spirit. For my part I was too grateful for all that he had done for me, too sensible of the kindness of his motives, and too well aware of the superiority of his mind, to complain aloud of anything that he might think beneficial for me to do. Repine, I did, in secret, and that most heartily; but nevertheless, as I was quick and active in mind as well as body, and applied myself diligently to learn while I was about it, I probably gained more in the same space of time than many other people would have done. At length, one day, to my surprise, my usual masters did not appear from Paris, and I received directions from my lord to prepare to accompany him on a long ride.

This was all very pleasant to me, especially as it seemed to augur something new; and no language that ever yet I heard is adequate to describe the sort of thirst for some novelty—some change in my situation—which then consumed me. Gladly did I get myself ready, gladly did I mount my horse; and, riding forward with Lord Masterton alone, while the grooms remained at a good distance behind, I gave way to all the wild gladness of my heart.

Lord Masterton suffered the first burst of joy to have its full course, and smiled as he remarked it; but in a few minutes he assumed a more serious tone, saying, “Come come, Little Ball-o’-Fire, let us ride on calmly, and converse like rational people, for I have something serious to say to you.”

In a moment I was all attention, and he proceeded:

“I was in hopes,” he said, “to have kept you with me yet for several years—till such time, indeed, as young men usually set forth in the world; and even then only to have parted with you in order to have placed you in some station where you might win honour, and make your way to fame. For such a purpose, however, it was necessary that all those points which circumstances had caused your father to neglect in your education should be supplied here, and I consequently have endeavoured to obtain for you every sort of instruction which this country can afford.”

“Indeed, my lord,” I cried, as he paused for a moment, “I am not of the wood of which men make a scholar, and I am afraid, if my getting on in the world is ever to depend upon my learning, that I shall drop by the wayside from pure weariness.”

“I have come to the same conclusion too,” he answered, in a tone which expressed some degree of mortification, but not a touch of anger, “I have come to the same conclusion too; for you must not suppose that I have been blind to your impatience. I had hoped, indeed, that it would wear away, though Lord Langleigh assured me that it would not; but now having given you a trial, having added something to your stock of knowledge, and having found that your distaste to study increased rather than diminished, I have determined to abandon the attempt, and to let you follow out that way of life for which nature seems to have formed you, and in which Fortune herself had placed you.”

Never did such joyful words ring in my ears before; and had we not been on horseback, I should have thrown myself at his feet to pour forth the gratitude that swelled in my heart. Words, however, were not wanting; and although I never made use of more than served my purpose, yet I contrived to make him understand how very happy he had made me.

“Well, well,” he replied, “all I can wish is to advance your interests; but you are of course aware, that such a change of prospects implies that you must leave me.”

Although I had thought the matter over a thousand times, and pictured to myself all I should like to do, yet I had certainly never contemplated the necessity of quitting a friend and protector that I loved, as a part of the scheme; and when he placed it thus plainly before me the tears rose in my eyes.

“Such, nevertheless, must be the case,” he continued, “for, of course, to pass your time in idleness here would be as disagreeable to you as to pass it in dry study.”

“But cannot you go to the wars,” I cried, “and let me go with you?” Lord Masterton smiled. “I am afraid,” he replied, “that I cannot mingle in the scenes of civil strife that are going on here, solely to find occupation for your active spirit. No, no, my good boy, Lord Langleigh and myself agree in thinking, that foreigners, casting themselves upon the protection and hospitality of a nation like this, should take no part in the factious intrigues that agitate the country; and we have determined to remain as quiet as possible till they are all over, which we both hope and believe will be the case ere many years be past; for the most turbulent cannot long remain blind to the dreadful evils which such a state of distrust, uncertainty, and apprehension inflicts upon every class in the community. But to return to our subject: it becomes us now to think of how we can place you to the best advantage. You are too young, of course, to serve in any of the regiments at present in activity, and if we place you as page to anyone else, it must solely be with a view to your military promotion hereafter. A gentleman who was here the other day, with our good friend Monsieur de Vitray, was pleased with your history, and expressed a desire for just such a boy as you, to bring up in his own steps, which have ever been foremost in the field of battle.”

“Who, who was that?” I cried, eagerly. “I saw them all. Was it the dark man with the heavy hanging brow? I do not like him.”

“No, no,” he answered. “It was Monsieur de Villardin, who sat at table on Lord Langleigh’s left, with dark hair, just mingled with grey, and a scar across his forehead.”

“I like him,” I replied, “I like him!” and Lord Masterton went on. “Well,” he said, “he luckily liked you and your character; and after a long consultation with me upon the subject, and the fullest consideration of your interests and your happiness, Lord Langleigh is now gone to speak with Monsieur de Villardin on your account, and to see whether he is willing to receive you in the capacity which we wish you to fill. Although the usages of this country would render it in no degree degrading for the son of the first nobleman in the land to become the page of the Duc de Villardin, yet we wish you, as it were, in quitting me, to gain a step in life. Lord Langleigh, therefore, will tell him that if he will receive you as superior to his common pages, and promise to obtain for you a commission in the service of the state, when you reach the usual age, we are willing to place you under his care. At the same time, to enable you always to maintain the station which we wish you to take, we have determined to grant you a pension of a thousand crowns per annum, chargeable upon a farm of Lord Langleigh’s in Normandy. You will thus be independent of anyone, for the deed of gift shall be drawn out, giving you that revenue irrevocably.”

The confused whirl of joyful ideas that took place in my brain at these tidings, would be difficult to express. The idea of seeing the world, and mingling in scenes of warlike activity once more, was all joy; and if there had been anything which could have given me a moment’s uneasiness in the prospect of going forth again into that world alone, it was the chance of being reduced to the state of poverty and destitution which I had suffered for one whole year. I do not mean to say that I did fear it, for I was not of a character to fear any of earth’s evils, or even to take them into consideration in my lookings forward towards the future; but the memory of some pains and some degradations which I had suffered did certainly cross my mind for a single moment, though without any power to affect my hopes or purposes. By the liberality, however, of my kind protectors, all such apprehensions were entirely removed. I had now always a resource, and that resource greater in amount than the pecuniary means of many a nobleman’s son. Sorry I am to say, that for the time these joyful feelings, and all the gay dreams to which they gave rise, very nearly wiped away the grief I had felt at the prospect of quitting Lord Masterton; and although I was deeply grateful, and expressed my gratitude for the new proofs of his generous kindness which he had just given me, I could not help, as we rode home, raving upon all the bright anticipations which I entertained in regard to the future.

He smiled at my delight; and though perhaps another man might have been offended at the little regret I expressed at leaving him, he had himself known what the spirit of adventure was too well not to make full allowance for the passionate desire of novelty that I felt, and for the restless love of change which habit had, in my case, rendered second nature.

To hear the success of Lord Langleigh’s mission was now my thirst. But he did not return for several hours, and I was obliged to bridle my impatience the best way I could. When he did appear, however, his countenance, which was a very expressive one, showed me at once that he was well pleased with the event of his errand. Nevertheless, he said nothing to me on the subject; and as Lord Masterton was out of the way, I was still compelled to digest my curiosity till the next morning. Before breakfast, however, I observed them in close conference for some time; and Lord Langleigh, whose custom it was never to talk upon any subject of importance sitting still, called me to him as he rose from the breakfast-table, and in a walk through the park informed me, with his usual prompt but somewhat sparkling manner, that the Duc de Villardin had very willingly agreed to all that he proposed.

“You are not to think,” he added, “from his readiness to take you, urchin,” the name by which he always called me, “that you are any great acquisition, after all. Nevertheless, you are a good, quick-handed boy; and if you go on as you have begun, you are in a fair way to get yourself hanged, shot, or made a field-marshal of. My son-in-law tells me, what indeed I very well knew without his telling, that your heart is all on fire for activity and new scenes. Now, with Monsieur de Villardin, it is probable that you will have as much as you could well desire; for he is one of those men who let no moment fly by them unmarked by some deed or some event. He is in the midst of all the Parisian factions, too; and, if one-half of the rumours of the day be true, they will soon bring down Spanish cunning to aid French intrigue and make a mess of it fit for the palate of the devil himself. So, now you will be in your right element, urchin, and I will only give you one piece of advice before you go. Never let your zeal for any one’s service make you act ill, even to his greatest enemy.”

I felt myself turn as red as fire, for, to say the truth, the good old lord had touched upon a tender point; and, though I was young enough to think of such matters lightly, yet, during the nine months which I had lately passed in a much more contemplative manner than pleased me, a suspicion would now and then come across my mind, that one or two things in my past life might as well have been left undone. Lord Langleigh observed me colour, and adding, with a nod, “It is worth your thinking of,” he left me, and returned to the house. I did think of his advice long and eagerly; and his words sunk down into my heart, producing therein the first of many changes which I shall yet have to notice in my principles and conduct, as in passing through life I every now and then gained a lesson or an admonition, which taught me my own weaknesses, or restrained my wild passions. It was in vain, I soon felt, to look back and regret the past; but from that moment I formed my determination for the future, and tried never to forget, that no cause could ever justify an evil action.

All after arrangements were soon concluded. My dress was already more splendid than was at all necessary. My purse was well furnished by the liberality of my kind benefactors; and a pass having been procured for me to enter Paris, I took leave of the family at St. Maur three days after the conversation I have just detailed, and was delivered over into the hands of Monsieur de Villardin himself by the chief écuyer of Lord Langleigh, who accompanied me into Paris.

My new lord received me very graciously and promised me great things if I attached myself to him as zealously as I had done to Lord Masterton. His countenance, I have already said, had pleased me from the first; and it certainly was one well calculated to command both respect and regard. Nevertheless, as I came to know him better, I remarked occasionally two expressions which I had not at first observed, but which were strongly indicative of his real character, or, rather, of his faults. The first was a quick, sharp, inquiring, perhaps fierce expression, when anything was said in an under tone by the persons around him. This, however, passed away in a minute; but the second, which consisted in a tremendous gathering together of the brows when any one seriously offended him, would last for some hours, and it was evidently with difficulty that he could reassume his usual gay and cheerful manner, through the whole of the rest of the day.

I had early learned to watch people’s countenances as the weather-glasses of their minds, and thence to judge, not only of what was passing within at the moment, but also of their habitual feelings and inherent disposition. This had been taught me by my father, who had established his criterions for judging by long experience; and I had not seen the fierce, sharp look, and the deep, heavy scowl, upon the face of the Duke more than twice, when I established it in my own mind, as a fact beyond doubt, that he was both suspicious and revengeful. At the same time I discovered, by other circumstances, that he was highly sensitive to ridicule; and that, knowing well to how many jests he would expose himself if he suffered his irritable jealousy to appear, he laboured strenuously to cover it by the same light and witty manner of treating everything, which in that day was universally affected by all Frenchmen. In this he was not particularly successful; for, though his mind was quick and brilliant enough, his heart was too full of deep and powerful feelings to harmonise well with that playful badinage which alone affects the surface.

So much for my new master; but there are other members of his family who yet remain to be noticed. The first of these, of course, is Madame la Duchesse, to whom he led me immediately after I had been presented to himself, and introduced me as his new page, of whom she had heard so much. She was a very lovely woman, and at heart a most amiable one; considerably younger than her husband, perhaps about four-and-twenty years of age; and though, I believe, it would be doing Diana herself no injustice to compare her to Madame de Villardin in point of chastity, yet at the time I was first presented to her, ere sorrow or domestic discomfort had tamed the light heart and banished the vanities of youth, she had decidedly that love of admiration which has often, in this world, done more harm to a woman’s character than half-a-dozen faux pas. It mattered not with whom she was in company—rank, station, age, made no difference—admired she was determined to be by everyone who came within the sphere of her influence: a thousand little airs would she assume to excite attention; and bright and sparkling was the triumph which lighted up her eyes when she had succeeded in captivating or attracting. In the case of myself even, a boy of twelve years old, she could not resist the desire of displaying the same graces which she spread out before others; and when her husband brought me forward to her, the smile that played around her lips, the flash that glistened from her fine eyes, and the elegant attitude with which she held me by the arm, and gazed for a moment in my face, were all a little more than natural, and very, very different from the calm, sweet manners of the beautiful Emily Langleigh.

Besides herself, I found in the saloon where she was sitting her only child, a fine lively girl of little more than six years old, who afterwards became my frequent playfellow. Having introduced me to his lady, and told her several particulars of my history, adding no small commendations thereunto on my own behaviour, the Duke summoned his major-domo, to whose hands he consigned me, bidding him make me familiar with the house, and all that it contained. The old man, who had been in the family of De Villardin from infancy, took me by the hand kindly enough, and led me away to his own apartment, which consisted of two small, neat chambers, on the lower story, looking out into the court. Excellent old Jerome Laborde, for such was the name of the major-domo, took care, as we went along, to give me many a consolatory assurance of my being well taken care of, and rendered very happy, in the mansion of his master, conceiving me to be one of those young and inexperienced boys who are generally preferred to the place of page in a nobleman’s house at a tender age, and who, commencing with timidity and innocence, generally end in impudence and intrigue. His compassion was also moved towards me from the misfortune, as he thought it, of my being an Englishman. But by this time I had learned to speak French almost as fluently as my native tongue; and, before I had been half an hour with the old major-domo, I had convinced him thoroughly that I was a person to make myself very much at home anywhere, and in any circumstances. His ideas of a page, however, did not permit him to imagine that, as I had not the bashful fears of the earlier stages of page hood, I could have anything better in my character than the pert sauciness of its latter epoch; and, having conceived this bad opinion of me, the good old man very soon civilly told me, that he would lead me to the pages’ room, where I would find three others, as gay and bold as myself. But before I proceed to this new theatre on which my young abilities were destined to display themselves, let me add that, ere many days had passed, I found means to convince worthy Jerome Laborde that the circumstances of my former life had rendered me a very different creature from any he had yet met with in all his long experience of pages. The injustice that he found he had done me, added to the favourable impression he afterwards received, gained me a place in his good will, which I did not lose till his death.

A scene, however, was yet to take place which was to signalise my entrance into the house of Monsieur de Villardin, and to place me, by my own exertions, in that station in his family which Lord Langleigh had previously stipulated that I should enjoy. On entering the pages’ room, as it was called, I found, indeed, three boys as gay and bold as myself, full of saucy conceit and pert jocularity. They were all older than I was, and one seemed little less than fifteen years of age. No sooner was I left there by the major-domo, than, of course, I became the subject of their raillery, and for some time submitted to afford them matter for amusement. Their first employment was, naturally, the examination of my dress, which I could see, by a frequent shrug of the shoulders, and the words mauvais goût, did not particularly please these juvenile petit-maîtres. Going from that, however, to other matters, they carried their jocularity so far, that I soon found it would be necessary to exert one or two of the qualities which I had acquired in a harder school than any to which they had ever been subjected, in order to put them in that place which I intended them to occupy during the rest of my stay in the family. I consequently took advantage of the first insolent word spoken by the eldest—who appeared to have a right prescriptive to tyrannise—and, having drubbed him more heartily than ever he was drubbed before, I proceeded to reduce the two others to a complete state of discipline and subordination.

It may easily be supposed that all this was not effected without considerable noise; for though we were all small enough to have lain quiet in any house, my three companions were very vociferous. Just as I was putting what may be called the finishing stroke to the affair, by once more knocking down the eldest, who—on finding that his two fellow-pages, notwithstanding all they had suffered from him in former times, were now willing to espouse his cause against the new comer, had roused himself again to the combat—I perceived that the door of the apartment was ajar, and that the face of Monsieur de Villardin (with two or three écuyers behind) was gazing in upon the conflict. This discovery, however, did not prevent my giving full force to my blow, and my antagonist measured his length upon the floor at his master’s feet.

“Very well struck for a coup d’essai,” cried the Duke, walking in, “every fresh dog must of course fight his way through the pack; but now, young gentlemen, as your new comrade seems to have satisfied you pretty well that his must be the first station amongst you, by right of superior strength and activity, I also tell you that it is by my will, Gaspard,” he continued, turning to his eldest page, “you are but a boy, and not fit to cope with one who has slain men. So submit with a good grace and give him your hand.”

The boy, who had by this time risen from the floor, obeyed; but, as he did so, he eyed me from under his bent brows with a look that was sufficient warning that I had gained an enemy. This was an acquisition not particularly disagreeable to me; for, to tell the truth, I had at that time been so much more accustomed to deal with enemies than friends, that I hardly felt in my element without them; and, indeed, as I looked upon man’s natural position to be a state of warfare, I was always prepared to bear my share in it with good will. These opinions, it is true, changed greatly afterwards; but how the alteration was brought about is to be found in the history of my afterlife.

The mortification of Gaspard de Belleville, which was the name of my chief opponent, was rendered complete by the Duke selecting me as the companion of his ride to the palais, where the Parliament was then sitting. But I must speak of the events which occurred to me in Paris by themselves; nor, indeed, should I have mentioned the childish squabble which took place between me and the other pages, had it not been necessary to explain the origin of a good solid hatred which Gaspard de Belleville conceived towards me, and which lasted, undiminished, through life, rendering his own days miserable, and having quite sufficient effect upon my fate to show me that we should never make an enemy when we can make a friend.

Chapter 8

The city of Paris, and the country in general, were then in a pitiable state, owing to every party in the land combining, in the strongest degree that it is possible to imagine, the qualities of knave and fool. The Parliament was playing the fool in Paris, and yet sacrificing the country to the nicest calculations of its own interest. The party of the Duke of Bouillon was playing the fool and letting slip every opportunity of effecting its own objects, while it was calling a foreign power into the heart of its native country to obtain them. The people were playing the fool in suffering themselves to be led by an ass, the Duke de Beaufort, and by a knave, the Cardinal de Retz, while, at the same time, they took care to enrich themselves by the plunder of the stores and magazines; and last, not least, the Court was playing the fool at St. Germain, treating weakly where it might have acted vigorously, and yet cheating all the other parties with the most consummate art.