The Baronets' Family: a novel

Chapter I

And after him came next the chill December, Yet he, through merry feasting which he made, And great bonfires, did not the cold remember, His Saviour's birth his mind so much did glad. Spenser's Faerie Queen. Llewellen Park, or, as its ancient re tainers loved to call it, Plas Llewellen, was a fine, ancestral place. The entrance to the park was by a massive iron gateway, supported by huge, stone pillars, upon each of which, a grim lion had reposed for cen turies. VOL. I. B The lodge was a grey, ivy-covered house, of good dimensions, that looked as aged as the fierce guardians that watched over it. There was a drive of a couple of miles to the house, which wound through as lovely a country as the eye could desire to look at. Mountain and valley, wood and water, diversified the scene. Here oaks, under whicb the Druids probably performed their mysterious ceremonies, formed gloomy avenues, that scarcely admitted even a ray of light from the sun overhead ; there, many-coloured mountains stood, and bared their giant bodies to bis hottest beams.

Anon, through the richest of park-land, flowed a river, that sometimes kept a peaceful course, at others, rushed brawling over rough stones. Farther on, through almost impenetrable trees and brushwood, trickled the little streamlet, making its pleasant music, and leading the same quiet life, " for ever and for ever." Again the character of the scene changed, and the road wound through rocks, which were surrounded by woods of pine, larch, and the mountain ash, and covered with the moss and ivy that had clung to them for ages. Emerging from the rocks, a mountain flanked one side of the way, and a row of oak and pine the other, beneath which was a deep ravine, where an untameable waterfall bounded and roared, and sent its foaming, fretting, passionate waters head long down the rocks, and over the huge stones, and roots of trees, that seemed to urge rather than impede its course.

About a quarter of a mile from the house, the landscape became softer; and bright, green, undulating plains and slopes, diversified by groups of trees, surrounded the mansion. The entrance to Plas Llewellen was a large court, round which the house was built, forming three sides of a square. The arched doorway was ornamented with ar morial bearings; and various architectural decorations surrounded the long lines of windows, and smaller entrances that flanked it. The building was of the dark grey B stone, called "Welsh marble, and might have given an impression of gloom, had it not been surrounded by most cheerful scenery. The entrance hall was an immense, old fashioned room, filled with ancient armour, and spoils taken in war and the chase, collected by the Llewellens from time immemorial. The floor was of polished oak, and the fireplace, or huge hearth, large enough, one would think, to give warmth to the whole parish — the inhabitants of which the hall might easily have held.

Hence you entered the dining, or more properly, banqueting room, which occupied nearly the whole length of one side of the house. This was filled from floor to ceiling with family portraits, grimly looking from their carved and gilded frames; and its furniture consisted of oak tables, side-boards and chairs, black with age and use. From the windows, a long line of blue mountains was visible forming a magnificent background to the wooded park-land that stretched to wards them. The saloon and library filled another side of this fine old place. The former was hung with tapestry, which none of the successive owners of the mansion had chosen to remove, and which was in excellent preservation. Here ancient and modern taste competed, and carved oak and rosewood, old china and new ornaments, dwelt in juxta-position.

The library was full of books of all kinds, some good and some bad ; collected, rather because it was necessary that a library should con tain books, than because the Llewellens had been men of literature. It was a snug room, warm and comfortable in winter, that had doubtless been the scene of many a love-tale, and domestic history. These apartments looked out upon a garden, laid out with most perfect taste, and ending to the right, in shrubberies, that, in their turn, wandered into woods of all varieties of trees. At the bottom of the garden the river ran, widened at that place into a lake, upon which stately swans, and wild ducks, passed a happy existence. Beyond it the deer were to be seen, sometimes basking in the sunshine in the open greensward ; at others bounding up the slope, or taking refuge amongst the trees.

On a hill to the left, an old, ruined castle, surrounded by a dark wood, looked gloomily down upon the neighbour, built, probably, to replace it ; and told of war and devastation. The third side of the mansion was occupied chiefly by the domestics, and was sheltered on the outer part, from the east wind, by a dense wood, that stretched far and wide, and covered several miles of ground. Of course, in this large house, there were numerous apartments, that it would be tedious to describe, filling up the ground floor. A billiard-room, a second drawing-room, and a business-room for the master ; all on a scale of corresponding magnificence. The second floor was variously apportioned. The west wing contained a suite of state apartments, com municating with one another, in which royalty had often reposed ; some of these were tapestried : all were furnished with the richest of velvets and damasks of different dates.

In the south wing were the rooms occupied by the family, and such guests as came and went when they liked ; more properly called, friends. Here, too, was the most charming of boudoirs, full, of beautiful miniatures, and water-colour drawings, and rare ornaments, and still rarer books by the best authors: not to mention children's toys, and embroidery frames, and writing materials, and all other accompaniments of the " luxurious ease," which a woman of taste and refinement knows how to gather round her. From the windows you seemed to see the whole prospect of wood, water, mountains, rocks, and glades, that I have endeavoured to describe, as we came from the lodge to the house. In such a room — so bright, so cheerful, so luxurious — it would seem impossible to spend an un happy moment. Wandering through such a domain, a stranger would ask, ' What can be wanting here to make life perfect bliss?

What is there not at Plas Llewellen % The true answer to this question would be a sad one. ' Alas ! there is no money to keep it up.' Yet, nobody would have supposed this, who saw the profuse hospitality of its owner, and the number of domestics, and grey-headed retainers, supported at his cost. None who knew his princely generosity, could have imagined tbat he wanted any addition to his prosperity. Yet so it was ; and the family that had been for centuries amongst, the most respectable in Wales, was fast merging to decay. Still, if Sir Howel Llewellen knew this, he scarcely gave it a thought, but, with mistaken good nature, continued to entertain half the county at his table — to support scores of idle dependents — to keep a capital pack of hounds and half a dozen hunters — and to live at the rate of twenty thousand a year, when his mortgaged property, and heavy debts left him, comparatively, nothing.

Still he was one of the most warm hearted and generous men in the world. Every body liked him, and, unfortunately, he liked every body. But he wanted prudence, judgment, and common-sense ; nay, more, he wanted religion and justice — justice to his family and himself, and stability of purpose to execute it, by re trenching his expenses, and paying off the debts and mortgages that had accumulated upon the estate, even before he succeeded to it, and to which he had considerably added. He had been educated in that school of extravagance, the army. As an agreeable and handsome guardsman, his society had been sought in the gay scenes of the metropolis ; and as an only son, and heir to a large property, he had been a mark for the arrows of most of the manœuvring mothers and anxious daughters he met with.

But he disappointed them all, by marrying the orphan daughter of a clergy man — a friendless, pensionless girl; poor B in what the world calls wealth, but rich in every thing that makes a woman's most precious dowry — virtue, good sense, talents, and beauty. His father, an easy man, and thoughtless as himself, readily forgave him this juvenile indiscretion ; took his young wife to his home and heart, and loved her as a daughter. But his only sister, a proud and haughty lady, who had married an English nobleman, never overlooked this grafting, as she called it, of a plebeian sprig into their old patrician stock, and cordially hated her beautiful sister-in low. The old Sir Howel died when his son was about three and twenty, leaving him in full possession of Plas Llewellen, its fine park, and extensive manor ; but the whole pro perty, as was said before, greatly involved.

No one but the steward knew to what an extent it had been mortgaged by its suc cessive inheritors ; and he, having his own game to play, did not tax his feelings too heavily by the painful duty of opening the eyes of his employer to his actual con dition. At the period when this tale commences, Sir Howel Llewellen had been married eight years, and they were years of unin terrupted happiness. He continued to love his wife with devoted affection, and to look upon ber fine qualities with respect and admiration. They had had four children, three girls and a boy, the latter of whom had died in infancy. The second, the little merry Clare, had been adopted by her aunt, Lady Somerville, who was a widow with a large fortune. It was Sir Howel Llewellen's wish to conciliate his sister, and when, as godmother to his little girl, she expressed a wish to educate and pro vide for her, he considered the offer as too advantageous to be refused ; and over ruling his wife's arguments, consigned Clare wholly to her aunt's protection, at the age of three years.

It was not without a hard struggle and many tears that Lady Llewellen parted from her child, but her husband was resolute, and for the first time opposed her wishes. Her reluctance to give up her child, did not lessen the breach between her and her sister-in-law, who, though apparently cordial, and even affectionate in her man ners towards her, had never, at heart, for given her for marrying her brother. There was, perhaps, another reason for her aversion. They were both young, and both admired ; but the unassuming dignity and sweetness of Lady Llewellen gained her something more than mere admiration, and Lady Somerville was not slow to per ceive this. Let those who understand the secret workings of female jealousy, say why Lady Somerville, a proud and selfish woman, did not love her gentle and beautiful rela tive.

The new year was about to dawn, and PlasLlewellen echoed with the sounds of joy and merriment. Not a heart that was not warmed by the munificence of its master and mistress ; not a servant or peasant who did not share in their bounty. Christmas eve and Christmas day had been, formerly, periods of high festivity, but Lady Llewel len had worked a salutary change here. She thought that tbe anniversary of tbe glorious day upon whicb the work of sal vation began, should be celebrated by a quiet spirit of thanksgiving, and not by a roystering gaiety ; and that the eve of that day should be observed as the eve of a high religious festival, and, accordingly, un disturbed by such worldly uproar as might withdraw the mind from the contemplation of the marvellous scheme of the redemption of fallen man.

New year's day and new year's eve were therefore devoted to mirth ; though an ox was killed and distributed, together witb warm clothing, to the poor at Christmas, that they might have their hot roast beef and plum pudding in their own cottages on Christmas day. On new year's eve, then, all was life and enjoyment, as usual, at Plas Llewellen. There was a large party in the house, amongst whom were Lady Somerville and the little Clare. To these were added several of the neighbours, and their children, who were invited to dinner, or to a participation in the even ing's festivities. The dining-room was a blaze of light, and the old family pictures seemed starting outof their framesinto being. Gay and brilliant did they look, and the Llewellens of the first and second genera tion might have been coming to banquet with their very remote descendents, to judge from the air of life they wore under the influence of candelabras and wax lights.

As it was, they smiled and smirked upon their relatives with every appearance of good-humoured approval of their New Year's gathering. The actual living and breathing people who were seated round the large oak dining table, were quite uproarious. Amongst them were some five or six country gentlemen, who had never been far from their horses and hounds, and who certainly ex erted themselves to make merry, or rather who made merry without any exertion. In spite of the stare of would-be refinement of some of the party, and particularly of Lady Somerville, this heart-gaiety circu lated, and infected even the more civilised, until the lofty room rang with laughter, and the six country gentlemen declared themselves quite ' done up.' Poor Lady Somerville was seen to press her hand upon her temples, and to elevate her eyebrows, when she met the eye of her friend, Lord Sensitive; and to whisper to Miss Grenville, an English connection who sat next to her: ''I wonder Lady Llewellen allows these riotous parties ; but one cannot expect — " aud here she stopped short, with a voluminous look.

Miss Grenville could have replied, that she bad never felt so merry, or laughed so heartily before; but sbe feared to venture thus far, for Lady Somerville was a leader of ton, and her word was law. As to David, the harper, he might as well have relinquished the strings he was touching, for the ears their sounds were intended for, were deaf to them. He sat in the entrance hall, as was the custom in ancient times — a custom Sir Howel still liked to keep up — and played beautiful, Welsh melodies, with execution and feeling. Dreaming over the airs he loved, he remarked not the inattention of those who generally listened to him with delight, and continued to play, some might have supposed mechanically ; but in truth, witb his whole soul in his harp. Did he call forth one of his country's many martial airs; hie breast dilated and heaved, and his eye shot fire; whilst those of a more melancholy kind produced a subdued expression of countenance, almost approaching to sad ness.

He was engaged in one of those wild melodies so peculiarly adapted to the Welsh harp, into which he was throwing all the fire of his native enthusiasm, when he was aroused from his musical aberrations by a slight touch on his shoulder. He turned round, and his countenance brightened into a smile, as his eye rested on a fairy figure standing on tip-toe behind him. A lovely child, the eldest daughter of the house, crept to his side, and resting her hand upon his knee, whispered to him to play her " Nos Galan." She looked up into his face, thoughtfully, whilst her golden curls fell back upon her neck, and revealed a countenance remarkable for its pale gentleness. He played the air she desired, and she beat time softly with her little foot as he did so, whilst the variation of her expressive face told how dearly she loved music.

" I think I could play that tune now," sbe said, when the harper ceased. " Try it, dear," was the reply, and David lifted her gently on his knee. " T am afraid they will hear me," said the the child, but a shout of laughter from the baronet's family. 18 dining-room proved that her fear was un called for. She leaned her head against the harp, and encircled it with her arms. With a soft, clear touch, she ran her fingers across the instrument, producing a simple prelude, and then began the air she had just heard. She got through the first part of it, but ap peared perplexed, when in a bar of the second, she found that her little hand could not manage a chord, that added greatly to the harmony of the whole. She paused and sang, with a sweet voice, the air she had failed to play ; then turning again to the harp, she accomplished it perfectly, whilst a flush of satisfaction spread over her beautiful face.

The harper listened to her with delight, and when she ceased, asked her to play him one more tune, which she did, with a simplicity of note, and an exquisite delicacy and feeling, singular in one so young. Her music was, however, interrupted by the entrance of a boy of about twelve years old, who came triumphantly sliding down the polished oak floor, and almost overturning the harp in his progress. "Oh, oh ! here you are then," he cried. " This is how you steal away from us to your harp, instead of waiting to finish your game of play. We have been looking for you every where, and here comes Miriam with a scolding ready prepared for Miss Gwenthlean." Here a prim nurse appeared, carrying the youngest child in her arms, and fol lowed by Clare, and a troop of other children. " There now," began the abigail, on perceiving Gwenthlean — for such was the old Welsh name Sir Howel had given his eldest daughter — " there now, dear me, Miss Llewellen, what's the use of putting you on nice, clean, stiff, muslin frocks, if you go to crumple them directly.

Really David, you ought to know better. There she was, a minute ago, as neat as a new pin; and now, I declare, her frock and ber hair ain't fit to be seen. 'Tis enough to provoke a saint." Gwenthlean slipped off the harper's knee, and running to her nurse, begged her not to be angry, for she could smooth herself quite neat again directly. It would have been impossible to be angry with the gentle creature, whose appealing look instantly reached Miriam's heart. Her ire turned however upon David, who she requested, for tbe future, " not to take the young ladies upon his knee to play, and such nonsense, when they were dressed for company." "The dessert's on the table! the dessert's on the table," exclaimed Clare, clapping her hands, and dancing about for glee. " Come, Gwen dear, never mind your frock," and the laughing, black-eyed darling, threw her arms about her sister's neck, and kissed her lovingly.

Then, as if suddenly recollecting herself, she stood erect, looked very demure, smoothed her hair, worked THB BARONET'S FAMILY. 21 frock and satin petticoat, and asked Miriam whether she was " quite tidy now." The boy, who had first broken in upon Gwenthlean and David, advanced, and with mock gravity offered Gwenthlean his arm; but the timid child shrunk behind ber nurse. He then turned to Clare, who with a curtsey that might have done honour to a duchess, accepted the proffered arm, and with the prettiest beauty airs imaginable, strutted off to the dining-room, followed by the rest of the juveniles. The children were soon overwhelmed with flattery and fruit ; and Clare ran from guest to guest, and swallowed both with great nonchalance, as a food to whicb she was well accustomed ; whilst Gwenth lean seated herself quietly by her mother's side, hoping to escape observation.

This was not so easy, since several of the com pany soon asked her to sing. Gwenthlean's voice had long been the pride of her father, and the admiration of his friends. She had sung as soon as sbe spoke, aud knew correctly the airs of songs, long be fore she could pronounce their words. It was the poor child's greatest punishment to be asked to sing ; but she always did her best when asked, and now, called to her father, and seated on his knee, inquired, timidly, what she should sing. " Let us have ' Home sweet home,' dear," said her father, " nothing could be more appropriate." The child sang the simple old ballad very sweetly, and ber gentle voice, or the words, brought tears to her mother's eyes, who felt unaccountably depressed. The guests were charmed, and asked for several other songs, which Gwenthlean sang with equal expression and taste, wonderful in so young a child.

As soon as she was allowed a short respite, she slipped off her father's knee, and again crept timidly to her mother. When the gentlemen left the dinner table after settling a grand hunt for the morrow, the whole party, children ineluded, adjourned to the entrance hall. Here were assembled all the respectable tenants, their wives aud daughters. A large pile of ashen faggots was heaped up in the huge old chimney, and the dry wood cracked and blazed, and sent up myriads of sparks, called by the delighted children " guineas ;" whilst the bright flames spread warmth and cheerfulness around, illumin ing the ivy and holly, and making the white, waxy berries of the " mistletoe bough," shine amidst their green leaves. What a scraping of fiddles and tuning of harps began, when the ladies and gentle men made their appearance!

And how primly the comely Welsh women sat round the room, whilst the " gentry " selected their partners from amongst them ! But the fiddles and the harps were tuned, and tbe long country dance formed ; David struck his best chord, Sir Howel clapped his hands, and the dance began. " Hands four round and back again," by Sir Howel Llewellen and a portly Welsh dame, and Lady Llewellen and a respectable farmer. " Down the middle, up again, and pous sette," danced to perfection. Not so well the next couple ; for my Lord Sensitive could not get out of his exquisite dance walk-glide, and his round-faced partner wished him farther, in spite of his being a "live Lord." Better the next couple, and the next, and the next ; for three of the country gentlemen whirled about three country damsels with all their hearts.

As to the next couple, they were the soul of the dance. Such a red-faced boy with little Clare for a partner! and how she pulled him round when he seemed afraid ! and how she held up her worked frock, pointed her little toes, and showed off her satin shoes and laced trousers ! Oh ! she was the admiration of every one. Lady Somerville did not like the exhibition, how ever, but complaining of nervous head ache, retired, to the inexpressible satisfac tion of the six country gentlemen. Then came Gwenthlean and an elderly farmer, who uplifted his dear young lady until her feet could not touch the ground, and her auburn curls strayed about in all directions. The young boy, already mentioned, had seized upon Miriam, and was paying her off old scores, by making her move faster than she had ever moved before.

The rest of the party were suitably paired, and there never was a longer or grander country-dance at Plas Llewellen. And how they kept it up! " Hands across, down the middle, up again and poussette," was danced down twice ; and, then they changed it to " hands all round, down the middle, up again, and no pous sette ;" until, one after another, the ladies of the party dropped off. But that was of no consequence, since some one was sure to start up to supply the vacant place. One of two women who were dancing together, would be glad to exchange a female for a male partner — or an unfortunate kitchen-maid who had been over- VOL. I. c looked before would come forward ; — in short, there was no lack of recruits. At last Sir Howel, finding himself for the sixth time at the top, decided upon coming to a conclusion, to the no small mortification of Clare.

When he and his friends left the party to amuse themselves until supper-time, it was astonishing to see how Welsh ale braced them up to fur ther exertions. I do not know whether this beverage was also the cause of certain strange doings under the mistletoe, but un questionably many a bashful youth was inspired to drag his partner thither, and to impress his lips upon her flushed face with truly Pickwickian ardour. Twelve o'clock struck, and supper was proclaimed. The party gathered round the long servant's-hall table ; and, grace being said, down they crowded at a board groaning with creature comforts. After plenty of time allowed for unrestrained repletion, the company from the drawingroom made their appearance. Even little Clare, who had been fast asleep on a sofa during the last hour or two, was here as brisk as ever.

As Sir Howel and Lady Llewellen entered, all started up simultaneously from their seats, and greeted them with a deafening cheer. " Long life and prosperity to Sir Howel," crowned their bowls in an instant, and " hurrahs " resounded through the old kitchen, and out far and wide into the domain, where the oaks that had rejoiced over so many generations of the Llewellens, listened in grim horror. The healths of Lady Llewellen and the children were successively given, and drunk with rapture. This struck a chord too much for Lady Llewellen's melancholy, and overpowered her. Sir Howel himself was more than touched, and he could scarcely command his voice as he thanked his friends for their kind feeling towards him. His brief words were received, however, with tears of delight: the health of the King c restored their gaiety, and Lady Llewellen, now somewhat recovered, rose and retired.

Sir Howel and his friends soon left the party, who separated at their leisure, and this New Year's Eve at Plas Llewellen was never forgotten by any one who was there.

Chapter II

" Close to the hounds the hunter came To cheer them on the vanished game, But stumbling in the rugged dell, The gallant horse exhausted fell." SOOTT. I will not attempt a minute account of a New Year's Day at Plas Llewellen, having lingered so long amongst the festivities of its eve. Suffice it to say, that as soon as Sir Howel and his friends had set off from the house, to join the hunt, Lady Llew ellen's charities began. The poor were clothed and fed, and to Gwenthlean and Clare's great satisfaction, the school children were examined, and rewards were distri buted to the most deserving; after whicb, THJJ BARONET'S FAMILY. they were regaled with roast beef and plum pudding. The servants' hall was again in use, and fifty or sixty boys and girls, the latter in their dark woollen frocks and striped pinafores, walked two and two into it, and seated themselves at the table.

Lady Llewellen at the top, and the school mistress at the bottom, carved vigorously ; whilst the visitors, aided by Gwenthlean and Clare, walked to and fro with plates full of smoking meat and potatoes, to the delight of the voracious urchins there as sembled. It would have done your hearts good to have seen the huge pieces of beef that disappeared within the mouths of the hungry school children, as plate after plate was placed before them I How often the mistress was obliged to remind them of their manners, when she spied them using those " fingers made before forks," in most ungenteel eagerness ; and how astonished the polished little Clare looked, as she saw the knives poked far down their juvenile throats, to the evjdent danger of wounding them. It was curious to see her grasp the coat tails of one big boy, and peep into his face to discover what he was at, when he, quite unconscious, was holding his plate up to his mouth in a suspicious way, and extending a long tongue towards some tempting gravy, that neither knife nor fork would help him to get rid of to his satisfaction.

A shout from his school mistress, recalled him to his manners, and made him hang his head ; but the sight of the plum-puddings revived him, which Clare perceived, and wishing to atone for the ill she had caused, she ran to the foot man, and begged the first slice, with which she returned in triumph to her friend. Lady Somerville thought it all very good, and benevolent, and that sort of thing ; but the brats were so dreadfully vulgar, that it would be better to let the servants help them. Whilst the New Year's Day charities were going on at home, the hunt had been a grandoneabroad. Evening was beginning to appear, and still the sport was as keen as ever. Sir Howel Llewellen had been, as usual, the foremost rider, surmounting every obstacle that fell in his way : and it might have been said of him as of Ma zeppa — " Away — away ! and on they dash, Torrents less rapid and less rash.'' At last the hounds had chased the fox into a kind of arena, or open green space, surrounded by trees and brushwood.