Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, No. 341, March, 1844, Vol. 55 by Various

V >> Various >> Blackwood\'s Edinburgh Magazine, No. 341, March, 1844, Vol. 55

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[10] May 1841.

The subject of the manufactures and products of India, is not, however,
the only point connected with the internal administration, respecting
which some inconvenient facts find their way to light in the colonel's
pages--and with one or two of these revelations, we shall conclude our
extracts. The majority of those Anglo-Indian employes, who have favoured
the world with "Reminiscences" and "Narratives," are singularly free from
the charge of what is familiarly termed "telling tales out of school."
According to their account, nowhere is justice so efficiently administered,
or its functionaries so accessible, as in our Indian empire; but here,
whether from the native frankness of the colonel's disposition, or from
his having nothing more to hope or fear from the old Begum in Leadenhall
Street, we find this important subject placed, on several occasions, in
rather a different light from that in which it is usually represented. It
is well known that Sir David Ochterlony, a short time before his death,
discovered by mere accident that he was enrolled as a pensioner to a large
amount on the civil list of almost every native prince in Upper India,
from the emperor of Delhi downwards--his principal moonshee, or native
secretary, having thrown out intelligible hints, as though from his master,
that such douceurs would not be without their use in securing his powerful
interest at Calcutta--the moonshee himself quietly pocketing the proceeds.
This was certainly an outrageous instance; but it is the direct interest
of every native subordinate to screen his own misdeeds and extortions, by
promoting to the utmost, in his European superior, that inaccessibility to
which he is naturally but too much inclined--and the extent to which this
system of exclusion is carried, may be inferred from the following
anecdote. The colonel had been requested by a native landholder of high
respectability, to introduce him to the house of a civilian; and on asking
why he could not go by himself, was told, "I dare not approach the very
compound of the house he lives in! If his head man should hear that I
ventured to present myself before the gentleman without his permission, he
would immediately harass me by some false complaint, or even by
instituting an enquiry into the very title-deeds of my estate, which might,
however falsely, terminate in my ruin. It is not long since I paid eleven
hundred rupees to ---- to suppress false claims, which, if they had
actually gone into court, would have cost me ten times the sum."

Of the practical effects of criminal punishments, the colonel does not
speak more highly. "In the real Hindoostanee view of the subject, a
convict in chains is nearly a native gentleman--a little roue,
perhaps--employed on especial duties in the Company's service, for which
he is well fed, and has little labour. A jail-bird can easily be
distinguished after the first six months, by his superior bodily condition.
On his head maybe seen either a kinkhab (brocade) or embroidered cap, or
one of English flowered muslin, enriched with a border of gold or silver
lace. Gros de Naples is coming into fashion, but slowly.... Was he
low-spirited, he could, for a trifling present, send to the bazar, and
enjoy a nautah from the hour the judge went to sleep till daybreak next
morning--nay, under proper management, he might be gratified by the
society of his wife and family.... See him at work, the burkandauze
(policeman) is smoking _his_ chillum, while he and his friends are sound
asleep, _sub tegmine fagi_. All of a sudden there is an alarm--the judge
is coming! up they all start, and work like devils for ten or fifteen
seconds, and then again to repose. This is working in chains on the roads!
In fact, after a man is once used to the comforts of an Indian prison,
there's no keeping him out!"

All this, no doubt, is broad caricature--but "ridentem dicere verum quid
vetat?" a motto which the colonel could not do better than adopt for any
future edition of his eccentric lucubrations. And so Rookhsut! Colonel
Sahib! may your favourite tomata sauce never pall upon your palate; and
though perhaps you would hardly thank us for the usual oriental good wish,
that your shadow may continue to increase, may it at least never be
diminished by that worst of all fiends, indigestion!

* * * * *

BELFRONT CASTLE.

A RETROSPECTIVE REVIEW.

One half of the world was surprised that Reginald Belfront married Jane
Holford--and the other half was equally surprised that Jane Holford
married Reginald Belfront; for, considering the experience that both
halves of the world must have had, it is amazing how subject they still
are to surprise. To us, who have not the pleasure to belong to either half,
there is very little surprising in the matter. Reginald had been for some
time on a visit at the house of a distant relation--old Sir Hugh de Mawley.
He had wandered through the great woods of the estate, and found them very
tiresome; had strolled in the immense park, and found it dull; and, in the
long evenings, had sat in the stately hall, and listened to the endless,
whispered anecdotes of his host, and found them both intolerable. No
wonder he started with joyful surprise when, one day in the drawing-room,
he heard the rustle of a silk gown; caught the glancing of some beautiful
real flowers on the top of a bright-green bonnet; and, more wonderful than
all, the smile of the prettiest lips, and the glances of the clearest eyes
he had ever seen in his life. The gown, the bonnet, the smiles, and eyes,
all belonged to Jane Holford; and Reginald, who had, up to this time, made
no great progress in the study of comparative physiology, now made such
rapid strides, that he could have told you every point in which the
possessor of the above-named attributes differed from the stiff and prim
Miss de Mawley, who had hitherto been the sole representative of the
female sex in Mawley Court. The neck and shoulders--the chin--nose--arms--
ankles--feet--not to mention the hair and eyebrows--of the new specimen,
were minutely studied; and, in spite of the usual antipathy he entertained
against all scientific pursuits, he felt a strong inclination to be the
owner of it himself, in order to pursue his investigations at full leisure.
He was no genius--hated books--disliked clever people--but prided himself
on his horsemanship, his play at quarterstaff, his personal strength, and,
above all, in his fine old castle in a somewhat inaccessible part of
Yorkshire, which had remained in the possession of his family ever since
the Conquest. Jane, on the other hand, had no castle to boast of; and
probably had no ancestor whatever at any period preceding the year 1750,
when her grandfather had bought an estate near Mawley Court--which had
gone on improving with the improvement of the times, till her father found
himself the possessor of a rent-roll of fifteen hundred a year, four sons,
and six grown-up daughters. It will easily be believed that no objections
to the match were raised on the part of a middle-aged gentleman, with so
many reasons for agreeing to the marriage settlement proposed by Reginald
Belfront; consisting, as it did, of a jointure to the widow, and the use
of Belfront Castle for life, without the remotest allusion to any portion
or other contingent advantage on the other side; and as Jane herself was,
if possible, still more satisfied on the subject than her father, all the
arrangements were rapidly made, and in less than three months after the
apparition of the silk gown and other etceteras in the drawing-room, the
indissoluble knot was tied, and Miss Cecilia, the second daughter, was
advanced to the dignity of Miss Holford, vice Jane--promoted.

The church was all decked out with roses and other pleasing emblems of the
unfading nature of connubial bliss; wreaths of sunflowers, with the same
comfortable moral, were hung up over the great gate of Mawley Court; while
Miss de Mawley, representing in her own person the evergreens omitted in
the garlands, received the happy couple on their return from the ceremony
at the head of all the female domestics, from the housekeeper down to the
kitchenmaid, and led the bride and bridegroom to the table in the great
hall, where old Sir Hugh was sitting in great state. They kneeled down
before his chair; and, laying his hand on their heads, he began blessing;
but not having practised that style of oratory so much as he ought, it
rapidly degenerated into a grace--and, as lunch in the mean time was
brought in, and the Holford family, and one or two of the neighbours who
had been present at the ceremony, had now arrived, the eloquence of Sir
Hugh was not altogether thrown away. There were several speeches and
toasts, and sundry attempts at jocularity; and Sir Hugh began the story of
the French countess and the waterfall at Fountainbleau; and Reginald
availed himself of the somnolency of the rest of the party to slip out
with his bride without being observed, just as the royal family began to
suspect the secret--and, long before the incensed husband sent the
challenge, the happy pair were careering onward as fast as the postboy
could drive, on the first stage of their wedding tour.

A month afterwards they were in a country inn in Wales. The window at
which they sat commanded a view of the beautiful vale of Cwmcwyllchly--a
small river glided down in winding mazes, hiding itself behind wooded
knolls, and brawling over rocks in the most playful and picturesque manner
imaginable. The sun had begun to set, and was taking a last look at the
prospect, with his vast chin rested on the top of Penchymcrwm, presenting
to the poetical mind an image of a redfaced farmer looking over a
five-barred gate--every thing, in short, that is generally met with in
Tourists' Guides, as constituting a splendid view, was assembled on this
favoured spot; and yet Jane heaved a deep sigh, and appeared to take no
notice of the landscape.

"You're tired, my love," said Reginald; "you have walked too far up these
Welsh mountains."

"I hope to get used to climbing," answered Jane; "there are plenty of
hills at Belfront--aren't there?"

"Yes, we have plenty of hills; but why don't you call it home, Jane?"

"Because I have never lived there," she replied; "and a place can scarcely
be called home that one has never seen."

"But you have never said you wished to see it."

"Oh, but I have wished it all the same--may we--may we go--home?"

She said the word at last, and Reginald was delighted.

"Home! to be sure--to-morrow, at daybreak; for, to tell you the truth, I
don't care sixpence for fine views--in fact, I don't think there is any
difference between any two landscapes--except that there may be hills in
one, and none in another, or woods, or a river--but they are all exactly
the same in reality. So, let us go home, my love, as fast as we can, or
I'm very much afraid Mr Peeper won't like it."

"Mr Peeper?" enquired Jane. "Who is Mr Peeper?"

"You will know him in good time," said Reginald; "and I hope he will like
you."

"I hope he will--I hope all your friends will like me--I will do every
thing in my power to please them."

"You're a very good girl, Jane; and Mr Peeper can't help but be pleased,
and I am glad of it; for it ought to be our first study to make ourselves
agreeable to _him_."

"Agreeable to Mr Peeper!" thought Jane. "How strange that I never was told
about him before this moment! Does he live in the castle, Reginald?" she
asked.

"Certainly. One of his family has lived there ever since one of mine did;
so there is a connexion between us of a few hundred years."

"Have you any other friends who live in the castle?" enquired the bride.

"I don't know whether Phil Lorimer is there just now or not; he has a room
whenever he comes; and a knife and fork at table."

"Who is he?"

"A capital fellow--full of wit--and makes funnier faces and better songs
than any man in Yorkshire. You will like Phil Lorimer."

"And I hope he will like me!"

"If he don't, I'll break every bone in his body."

"Oh! I beg you won't," said the bride with a smile, and looking up in
Reginald's face to assure herself he spoke in joke. It was as earnest a
face as if it had been of cast-iron; and she saw that Mr Lorimer's only
chance of preserving a whole skin was to like her with all his might.

"Is there any one else?"

"There's Mr Peeper's assistant, Mark Lutter--a clever man, and a great
scholar. I hate scholars, so he dines in the servants' hall, or far down
the table--below the salt."

"Are you serious?" enquired Jane.

"Do you not like scholars?"

"What's the use of them? I never could see what they were good for--and,
besides, Mr Peeper hates them too."

"Then why does he keep this man as his assistant?"

"Because if he didn't, the fellow would rebel."

"Well, you could turn him off."

"We never turn any body off at Belfront Castle. If they go of their own
accord, we punish them for it if we can--if they stay, they are welcome.
Mr Peeper must look to it, or Lutter will make a disturbance."

"What a curious place this castle must be," thought Jane, "and what odd
people they are that live in it!" She asked no more questions, but
determined to restrain her curiosity till she could satisfy it on the spot;
and, luckily, she had not long to wait. Next day they started on their
homeward way. As they drew nearer their destination, Jane's anxiety to
gain the first glimpse of her future home increased with every mile. She
had, of course, formed many fancy pictures of it in her own mind; and, as
love lent the brush and most obligingly compounded the colours, there can
be no doubt they made out a very captivating landscape of it between them.

"At the top of the next hill," said Reginald, "you will see the keep."

Jane stretched her head forward, and looked through the front window as if
she could pierce the hill that lay between her and home. On went the
horses; but the next hill seemed an incredible way off; it was now getting
late, and the shadows of evening, like a flock of tired black sheep, began
to lie down and rest thenselves on the vast dreary moor they were
travelling over. At last Jane felt that they were beginning an ascent; and
a sickly moon, that seemed to have undergone a severe operation, and lost
nearly all her limbs, lifted up her pale face in the sky. The wind, too,
began to whistle in long low gusts, and Reginald, who was not of a
poetical temperament, as we have already observed, was nearly asleep. They
reached the hill top at last, and a great expanse of rugged and broken
country lay before them.

"Where is it?--on which hand?" said Jane.

"Straight before you," replied the husband; "it is only three miles off;
the high-road turns off to the left, but we go through fields right on."

Jane looked with almost feverish anxiety. At a good distance in front,
rose a tall black structure, like the chimney of a shot manufactory--a
single, square, gigantic tower--throwing a darker mass against the
darkened sky, and sicklied o'er on one of the faces with the yellow-green
moonlight. There were no lights in it, nor any sign of habitation; and
Jane would have indulged in various enquiries and exclamations, if the
carriage had allowed her; but it had by this time left the main road, and
sank up to the axles in the ruts; it bounded against stones, and wallowed
in mire alternately; and all that she could do, was to hold on by one of
the arm rests, as if she had been in the cabin of a storm-toss'd ship.

"For mercy's sake, Reginald, will this last long?" she said, out of breath
with her exertions.

"We are about a mile from the drawbridge. I hope they have not drawn it
up."

"Could we not get into the castle if they have?"

"We might fall into the moat if we tried the postern."

"Oh, gracious!--is there a moat?"--and instinctively she put her hand to
her throat, for her mother had brought her up with a salutary dread of
colds, and she felt a sensation of choking at the very name.

At this moment, the agonized carriage, after several groans that would
have moved the heart of a highway commissioner, gave a rush downward, and
committed suicide in the most determined manner, by dashing its axle on
the ground--the wheels endeavouring in vain to fathom the profundity of
the ruts, and the horses totally unable to move the stranded equipage. The
sudden jerk knocked Reginald's hat over his eyes against the roof of the
carriage, and Jane screamed when she felt the top of her bonnet squeezed
as flat as a pancake by the same process, but neither of them, luckily,
was hurt.

"We must get out and walk," said the husband; "it isn't more than half a
mile, and we will send Phil Lorimer, or some of them, for the trunks."

He put his arm round Jane's waist, and helped her over the almost
impassable track.

"We must try to get the road mended," said Jane.

"It has never been mended in our time," was the reply; and it was said in
a tone which showed that the fact so announced was an unanswerable
argument against the proposition of the bride.

"A few stones well broken would do it all," she urged.

"We never break stones at Belfront," was the rejoinder; and in silence,
and with some difficulty, they groped their unsteady way. At last they
emerged from a thick overgrown copse, in which the accident had happened,
and, after sundry narrow escapes from sprained ankles and broken arms,
they reached the gate. It was an immense wooden barrier, supported at each
end by little round buildings--like a slice of toast laid lengthways
between two half pounds of butter. It was thickly studded with iron nails,
and the round piers were of massive stone, partly overgrown with ivy, and
as solid as if they had been formed of one mass.

"Does any body live in those lodges?" enquired Jane.

"There is a warder in the inner court," said Reginald. "These are merely
the supporters of the outer gate."

"And how are we to get in?"

"We must blow, I suppose." And so saying, Reginald lifted up a horn that
was hung by an iron chain from one of the piers, and executed a flourish
that made Jane put her fingers to her ears.

In a short time the creaking of an iron chain--whose recollection of oil
must have been of the most traditionary nature--gave intimation that its
intentions were decidedly hospitable; and with many squeaks and grunts the
enormous portal turned at last on its hinges, and exposed to view a narrow
winding road between two walls, which, in a short time, conducted the
visitors to a long wooden bridge over a piece of stagnant water--the said
bridge having only that moment been let down from the lofty position in
which its two halves were kept by an immense wooden erection, which bore
an awful resemblance to a scaffold. When they got over the bridge,
Reginald turned round, and, imprinting a kiss on the pale cheek of the
astonished bride, said--

"Welcome home, dear Jane. This is Belfront Castle!"

Jane looked round a spacious courtyard, and saw a square of low
dark-looking buildings, with the enormous tower she had seen from the top
of the hill rearing its thick head above all at one corner. They proceeded
across the roughly-paved quadrangle, and entered a low door; ascended
three steps, and opened another door. They then found themselves in a
large and lofty hall, with fitful flashes of red light flickering on the
walls, as the flame of the wood fire on the hearth rose or fell beneath
the efforts of a half distinguishable figure, extended at full length on
the floor, and puffing the enormous log with a pair of gigantic bellows.
In the palpable obscure, Jane could scarcely make out the persons of the
occupants of the apartment; but when the flame burnt up a little more
powerfully than usual, she observed the figure of a tall man dressed in
black, who shook hands with Reginald, and bowed very coldly and formally
to her, when he was introduced as Mr Peeper. He seemed about fifty or
sixty years of age, but very much enfeebled. He stooped and coughed, and
was very infirm in his motions; but when the red glare from the hearth
fell upon his eyes, they fixed themselves on Jane with such a piercing
expression, that she turned away her face almost in fear. His hair was
snow-white, and yet it was impossible to decide whether he was a man of
the years we have stated, with the premature appearance of age, or a
person of extraordinary longevity, retaining the vigorous eyes and active
spirit of youth. However it was, Mr Peeper was too harsh and haughty in
his approaches, and exacted too much deference from the youthful bride, to
be very captivating at first. He said no welcome to the new-comer, and was
stiff and unkind even to the owner of the castle. Candles were soon
brought in, and Jane took the opportunity of looking round. The individual
who had been busy blowing the fire now rose from his humble position, and
was presented to the lady as Phil Lorimer. He bowed and smiled, and was
proceeding with a compliment, in which, however, he advanced no further
than the summer sun bringing out the roses, when Reginald pushed him out
of the hall, with orders to get the luggage brought in from the carriage,
and to be back in time for supper. Phil Lorimer seemed a man of thirty,
strongly built, with a sweet voice and friendly smile; but what station he
filled in the household--whether a servant, a visitor, a poor relation, or
what he could be, Jane could not make out, either from his manner or the
way he was treated.

"Mr Lorimer is very good-natured--very obliging, to take care of the
luggage, I am sure," said Jane.

"Better that than talking nonsense about roses," replied Reginald. "Did
you expect us this evening, Mr Peeper?"

"I did, Mr Reginald, and have invited a few of the neighbours to meet you."

"Who are coming?"

"Sir Bryan De Barreilles, Hasket of Norland, Maulerer of Phascald, and old
Dr Howlet. They will be here soon, so you had better make haste."

"I had better not appear, love," said Jane; "no ladies are coming, and
among so many gentlemen my presence might be awkward."

"By no means," replied the husband. "It wouldn't be right, Mr Peeper, for
my wife to be absent from the supper-table?"

"Certainly not. It is to see _her_ the neighbours are coming."

Is this Mr Peeper to have the control of all my actions? thought Jane. Who
can he be?

She took another glance at the object of her thoughts, but caught his eye
fixed on her with the same penetrating brightness as before; and she cast
her looks on the ground; and, whether from anger or fear, she felt her
cheeks glowing with blushes.

"You will not be long gone, if you please," he said to Jane as she retired
to change her dress.

"You don't seem pleased to see us, Mr Peeper," said Reginald, when Jane
had gone to her room under the guidance of a very tall old woman, who
walked before her, holding out a tremendously long candle, as if it were a
sword, and she was at the head of a military procession.

"No, sir," replied Mr Peeper; "I am not pleased with the person you have
brought here. You have gone too far from home for a wife. None of the
Belfronts have ever married out of Yorkshire, and it may give rise to
troubles."

"I am very sorry my wife's relations would not allow me to send for you to
perform the ceremony."

"It is a bad omen," said the old man; "my predecessors have married your
predecessors without a break since the conquest. It bodes no good."

"I trust no harm will happen, and that you will soon forget the
disappointment."

"None of my family forget, but we will not _talk_ of it." So saying, he
turned away, and arranged a goodly array of bottles on the sideboard.
Reginald sat down on an oak chair beside the fire, and gazed attentively
into the log.

In the mean time, Jane had followed her gigantic conductor through half a
mile of passages, and reached a small room at one end of the quadrangle,
and through the window (of which half the panes were broken, as if on
purpose) she caught the melodious murmur of a rapid river, that chafed
against the foundation walls of the castle. On looking round, the prospect
was not very encouraging. Tattered tapestries hung down the walls, and
waved in a most melancholy and ghost-like fashion in the wind; the floor
was thinly littered over with some plaited rushes, to supply the place of
a carpet; and a few long high-backed oak chairs kept guard against the
wall. The fire had died an infant in its iron cradle, the grate; and the
curtain of the bed waved to and fro in mournful sympathy with the tapestry
round the room. Jane was so cold that she could hardly go through her
toilette, simple as it was; but having at last achieved a very slight
alteration in her dress, and left her bonnet on the head of an owl, which
formed the ornament of one of the high-backed chairs, she endeavoured to
retrace her steps; and after a few pauses and mistakes, she found her way
once more into the hall.

The guests in the mean time were assembled and had seated themselves at
table. On Jane's entrance they all rose, and on being respectively named
by their host, bowed with cold and stately courtesy, and sat down again.
The four strangers seemed all of the same ages, fifty or thereabouts--tall,
hale, and dignified in their manners. Sir Bryan de Barreilles had a patch
on his right eye; Hasket of Norland a deep scar on his forehead, that cut
his left eyebrow into two parts, and gave a very extraordinary expression
to his rigid countenance; Maulerer of Phascald had the general effect of
very handsome features, marred by the want of his nose; not that there was
actually no nose, but that it did not occupy the prominent position it
usually holds on the human face divine, but was inserted deep between the
cheeks--in fact, was a nose not set on after the fashion of a knocker, but
a fine specimen of _basso-relievo_, indented after the manner of Socrates's
head on a seal, and would probably have made a very fine impression. Dr
Howlet was perfectly blind, and from the tone in which he was addressed by
the other gentlemen, Jane concluded he was also very nearly deaf. Besides
these, there were present Mr Peeper, at the foot of the table next to
Reginald, and on the other side of him a thick square-built man, with a
fine hilarious open countenance, who was perhaps of too low a rank to be
introduced to the lady of the castle--no other in fact than the
redoubtable Mr Lutter, of whom Jane had heard on her journey home.

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