Chapter I
"Well, I am glad it is all over at last!" ex claimed Sir John De Marbury, throwing himself into an easy-chair in his library at Donnington Hall, in Cheshire. " It has been nothing but a scene of eating, and drinking, and speechifying from early dawn ; and then to have to hear one's own praises sung at such a prodigious rate ! such prophecies too of one's well-doing ! I am heartily tired, I know." " You see, John," said a grave, middle-aged lady, who was the only other occupant of the room, " you may get weary of pleasure itself." B " But I say, mother," went on the young man, gaily, for he had no idea of being taken in for a lecture on this the very day of his coming of age, " how the little curate did lay it on ! I thought he was coming it rather strong, with a vengeance ; and so I fancy did Mr. Hulton.
I don't think he very much admired Mr. Jones's display of eloquence." " I suppose Mr. Jones has an eye upon one of your livings. He thinks you may give him one in return for all the fine things he has been saying about you." " Catch me, indeed, doing anything of the sort ! Besides, I don't like him myself. He is a great deal too ' bumptious' for me." " By the way, John, wasn't it rather odd that Mr. Hulton should have kept away from the dinner in the way he did, only just coming in for a few moments, after the cloth was removed, to propose your health, and then going away again ? I thought it odd." " Oh, he explained all about it to me. This is some saint's day or other — St. Peter's day, I think he said — and, as he has always his two services on these days, with the Communion, and as Jones wished so much to be here, why, the rector had to stay at home for the services, and was just able to slip over for half an hour in order to say his say — to show his sympathy upon the 'joyful occasion,' as he called it.
I like Hulton. He is a gentleman, and means well, I think." "It is a pity he is so dreadfully High Church ; yet he was not so when your father gave him the living. I remember when he used to dance at all the Newchurch assemblies. I see him now, turning round to the orchestra, and clapping his white-kid-gloved hands as a sign for them to change the quadrille. Ah, he has altered since those days ! I only hope it is for the better." " Well, I do confess myself that I have rather a dislike to seeing parsons in the ball-room or hunting-field. I think they may find quite enough to do at home in their parishes." " Oh, of course I don't mean that. But, as Mr. Marshall says, all this will-worship, and saint's-day services, and chanting, is sadly in- B consistent with the simplicity of our Protestant worship."
" Well, as you know, mother, there is no great love lost between Mr. Hulton and Mr. Marshall. Marshall always classes Papists and Tractarians together, and, I believe, considers the rector every bit as bad as Mr. Delawney, the priest." " Was the priest at the dinner to-day ? I haven't noticed him going about." " Oh, that he was, and as jolly as ever. He seemed quite to enjoy the exhibition poor Jones was making of himself after dinner. Poor little fellow ! I imagine an extra glass of wine or two quite upsets him. But I saw that Hulton waa annoyed." As the reader will have gathered, Sir John De Marbury, upon this 29th day of June, 184 — , at tained his twenty-first year, and was put in legal possession of the Donnington Hall estates, in Cheshire. There had been a long minority, and, under the judicious management of Lady De Marbury, aided by her experienced man of business at Newchurch, Mr. Ardern, the property had somewhat improved in value by the time the son came of age.
But still it required very care fid nursing, as the late Sir Richard had got into great difficulties, owing to his passion for buying land, which, in the end, never paid, or even so much as covered the interest of the money he had been obliged to borrow for the purpose. In consequence, Sir Richard De Marbury died greatly involved, and his estates, heavily encum bered, passed, along with the title, to his only son, then a child. Though matters had improved, as we have said, during the minority, yet Sir John De Marbury was soom to learn, after all the bustle and feasting were over, that, though nominally the owner of six thousand a year, yet, after his mother's jointure and other charges upon the property were paid, he had scarcely as many hundreds to live upon. This was rather a let-down to his pride — a slight abatement to his satisfaction upon taking possession of the property.
However, Mr. Ardern, in the course of a long and confidential sitting, soon after the termination of the coming-of-age festivities, explained to Sir John that his affairs, though embarrassed at the time, were not irremediably so. " We must sell," said the lawyer, " some of the purchased property, if nothing else can be done. But, before we do this," went on Mr. Ardern, for he saw that the young man winced at the suggestion, "we can have recourse to other measures, about which there will be no difficulty now that you are of age. We must sell the next presenta tions to Donnington, and also Sproston." " Poor Jones, and his expectations !" thought Sir John to himself; but he only said, " And you think this is absolutely necessary ? I don't much care about Sproston, but I should have liked to have kept Donnington in my own hands ; some man might get it whom I shouldn't like."
" Well, you must take your chance of that. They are both good livings, and I think I can find you purchasers without difficulty. Indeed, I happen to know of a Manchester man " " Oh, dear !" exclaimed Sir John — " who would be glad to buy Donnington for his son, now a boy at school. He would give a good price for it too ; and then the Rector of Spros^ ton is an old man, and the living is sure to drop soon. Altogether, I could ensure you several thousand pounds in this way ; and then, with this money, we could pay off some of the mortgagees." " Oh, then, you will want all the money," said Sir John, with rather a blank expression. " Why, of course ; by this means you will have something more of an income to live upon. I don't say," went on Mr. Ardern, good-humouredly, and by way of throwing in a sop, "that We may not spare you a few hundreds for any purpose you have a fancy for."
" A few hundreds won't go far. But never mind ; it can't be helped." " And then another thing has occurred to me within the last few days. You are paying very high interest on the mortgages — in no case less than six per cent., and in some cases practically ten per cent. Now there is an old fellow in New church, rich as Crœsus — I mean old Delves — of whom you have heard, I dare say, plenty of stories. Well, I know that he would have no objection to lend money for reasonable interest upon a safe mortgage. Indeed, he told me as much not long ago, when we were doing some little business to gether in my office. Now suppose we were to borrow, say, £10,000 from him at four or five per cent., and pay off some of these people ; why, that would put some hundreds a year in your pocket at once." " If you can only manage it with the old fellow, of course I shall be delighted."
"I think I can;" and with these words the lawyer bundled up his papers, swallowed a mouth ful of luncheon, and was off in his gig for New church. At Sir John De Marbury's age pecuniary difficulties seldom appear very formidable ; and, being a good-looking young fellow enough, with plenty of spirits, and with his title and estate (such as it was), he was not unnaturally disposed to take rather a bright view of things in general, and to rely with implicit faith uponMr. Ardern's making everything straight for him. Sir John had a great opinion too, though he didn't show it more than he could help, of his own consequence as a baronet^the only one in that part of Cheshire ; and, then, was he not a De Marbury, the representative of one of the oldest families in the county, whose ancestor, Ro bertus Latronus, had come over with the Conqueror ? and were not those his ancestors — De Marburys — those cross-legged knights who were to be seen at Donnington Church ?
It must be admitted that Sir John sometimes talked rather big about his " ancestors," and made a few mistakes when he got upon the subject. He was not wanting in in telligence, though not what would be called clever, but was awfully vain. For, between you and my self, reader, there was not a drop of the De Mar bury blood after all in Sir John's veins, and Ro bertus Latronus, and those knights-templar in the chancel of Donnington Church, were no more his ancestors than they were yours or mine. The truth of the matter is, that Sir John De Marbury's grandfather, old Dr. Hibbert, being the Rector of Don nington, had married a half-sister (by the same mother, but not by the same father) of the last of the old line, Sir Hugh De Marbury, who, dying without issue, and without any other near relations of his own, left all his property to his half-sister's son, Richard Hibbert, who was very shortly after wards transmuted, by Royal permission under the sign manual, into Richard De Marbury ; and, upon his marrying a daughter of Lord Clapham, the pos sessor of large estates in Lancashire, and a man of great political influence at the time, the De Marbury baronetcy was revived in the person of the actual possessor of Donnington, and from him, as already narrated, both title and estates passed to the son.
So that, altogether, when Sir John De Marbury produced his splendidly emblazoned genealogical tree, or dwelt upon the gallant deeds of sundry of the De Marburys (which he had read of in Dr. Flummery's County History), and when he talked with contempt of such and such a one being a norm homo, though undoubtedly an impression was produced upon young Mr. Jones, the curate, who was perhaps dining with his squire at the time, and though a feeling of awe would creep over his unsophisticated mind at beholding (through the medium, possibly, of two or three glasses of sherry) the lineal descendant, as he fondly imagined, of that very Robertus Latronus whose name figured at the top of the family tree, — yet, in the ears of the older and more knowing portion of the community, this boasting of his pedigree savoured strongly of the ludicrous.
However, Sir John was, for all that, a firm believer in his own pretensions, and as com pletely ignored the existence of his great grandfather, who was a surgeon-apothecary in a very small way in Newchurch (a few old people could just remember him), as if there never had been any such person. And he accordingly clung to the De Marburys, and dilated upon their exploits, just as if their red blood, and not the puddle of the surgeon-apothecary, trickled through his veins. Except for this weakness — a pardonable one after all — Sir John was likely to make his way, and rise in the estimation of his brother squires and of people generally. He went in for all the county honours, picked up a smattering of law from the newspapers, and, after a time, presided occasionally, with some credit too, at quarter sessions in the absence of old Lord Powderham.
He was a favourite with the barristers, who were glad to be asked out to dine at Donnington, and sometimes even to spend a day or two there. So they winked at any slips Sir John might make in his law, and, with one consent, while skirmishing with each other as usual, treated the chairman with unva^ing respect, and helped him out of his little difficulties. And it was to some extent the same at agricultural dinners : Sir John, after he came of age, was in great request as chairman. He had some humour about him, and could throw off the little speeches expected on such occasions in a highly satisfactory manner. It was only when he came to real business matters — to pro nouncing his opinion ex cathedra upon short horns and long horns, upon broad-breasted beasts and narrow-breasted, upon the best way of making cheese, and the like — that he found himself in a hobble.
The farmers were by no means so com plaisant as the barristers, and it only required for the chairman to drop a word in favour of short horns to have all the long horns (speaking meta phorically) thrust on all sides of him. : the broad breasters would be down upon him with indigna tion for his panegyric upon the narrow-breasts. And as for Sir John (who, as new to the thing, rather prided himself upon giving advice to the fanners) venturing to find fault with the way in which the Cheshire dairymaids made their cheese, or in which the farmers cultivated their land, why, poor Sir John had better have kept his well-meant advice to himself. For forthwith, upon one occasion in particular, there arose such a tremendous hubbub on all sides, such storms of hisses and cat-calls, and other such sounds which never fall gratefully upon a speaker's ear, that, though obliged to weather it all out, and even to appear amused by it, yet it is believed that it was upon that memorable occasion Sir John registered a vow never again to seek to illumine the darkened minds of Cheshire farmers, but to leave them to their own ignorance and bad farming for the future.
And there is some reason to suppose, too, that he kept to his resolution ; for it was observed that he was ever afterwards remarkably shy of offering advice at mixed agricultural meetings in his own county. With this exception — when the young squire, upon more than one occasion, would have done well to have called to mind, and to have acted upon, a certain well-known Latin maxim, which implies that everybody is supposed to understand his own business best — all went well with him : he was becoming generally popular in the county ; his reign had opened auspiciously ; and so here we leave him for the present, and turn to others who are to figure in this history.
Chapter II
And now to go back a little to Sir John's father. When it was understood that young Richard Hib bert was engaged to be married to the Honourable Elizabeth Simeon, Lord Clapham's eldest daughter, he was rallied a good deal by the county wits upon his choice of a " saint " as his wife. Not that anything particular was known of the young lady either one way or another, either for or against her. She was, indeed, too young at the time of her engagement for her character to be formed. But then she came of a very " strict family," and it seemed to be quite a matter of course that every one bearing the name of Simeon should be very Evangelical and Low Church. Nor was this notion entirely dispelled until the eldest son and heir to the title astonished the world one day by turning Roman Catholic, and ever afterwards dis playing an extraordinary degree of bitterness against his former co-religionists, and especially that particular section of them of which his father continued to be the honoured and influential leader. < Lady De Marbury brought with her to her hus band's house all the traditions amongst which she had been brought up.
Her father had been the friend and adviser of Wdberforce and Thornton ; and the peculiar tenets which are identified with their names represented to her mind the only vital religion in existence. How Miss Simeon or her parents ever came to view with any degree of favour such a wild, rattling, good-natured young fellow as Dick Hibbert was a puzzle to many. Nor was it quite easy to see what attractions the young lady possessed in her lover's eyes ; for she was homely-looking enough, always dressed with out taste, and brought but little fortune with her. She had, however, prudence, and a fair share of common sense — two qualities in which Sir Richard v was woefully deficient. And then the connection was a good one, and it was not long before Lord Clapham exerted his considerable political influence in obtaining a revival of the baronetcy in favour of his son-in-law, who had just changed his name of Hibbert for De Marbury.
Altogether, there was less disparity about the alliance than seemed at first sight : on one side, a title, a good income, and a fine place situated in one of the most desirable parts of Cheshire ; on the other, a respectable connection, and a good position in society. Richard Hibbert, too, though careless and reckless enough in his habits, and devoted to field-sports, yet was not wanting in affection for his wife, and readily fell in with any of her little plans for promoting the spiritual welfare of the tenantry or improving the education of their children. ' Accordingly, school-houses were built on the estate at her instance, and efficient masters and mistresses pro vided. But what Lady De Marbury prized more than anything else, and which was only brought about by her own persevering efforts, was the erection by her husband of a plain-looking edifice, which was to serve as a church for the use of the tenants and others who might choose to resort to it in preference to the parish church of Donnington, which was situated about a mile and a half from the HaU.
This chapel, which was in a corner of the demesne, and which appeared to have been built after the model of a meeting-house, was only licensed, not consecrated ; so that, as Sir Richard used sometimes to say, by way of a boast, and her ladyship by way of a kind of threat levelled at the rector, it might any day be diverted to some other purpose— a barn, for instance, or a Dissenting meeting-house. This chapel was a con tinual bone of contention between Sir Richard, or rather Lady De Marbury, and the rector, Mr. Hulton, then a young man. From the very first her ladyship had expressed dissatisfaction with the minister whom she found in possession at Donninoton ; and this dissatisfaction kept increasing until it displayed itself openly in the erection, within the demesne, of a chapel for the use of the Hall family and tenantry.
First it was Mr. Hulton's " worldliness " that was complained of, and his frequent appearance at the Newchurch assemblies, wrhere he attracted Lady De Marbury's unfavour able observation upon the only occasion, soon after his marriage, that she could be induced, at her husband's earnest entreaty, to favour that resort of county fashion with her presence ; and when, in course of time, Mr. Hulton married and " settled," and began to take up with " High Church no tions," and to introduce frequent choral services, and to preach in his surplice, and to keep saints' days, it was then that Lady De Marbury's indignation boiled over. And it is not too much to say that the appearance of the surplice in Donnington pulpit was what gave the final and strongest im petus to the erection of the family chapel.
Lady De Marbury gave her husband no peace until the building was set about ; and, as everything was to be " as plain as possible," at the special instance of Lord Clapham, who, as well as different members of his family, was a frequent visitor at Donnington Hall, it was not long before the edifice was com pleted, and the chapel ready to be " opened." A c delay, indeed, occurred in consequence of the rector's determined hostility to the opening of what he foresaw wTould be a regular opposition place of worship in his parish ; and many and disagreeable were the letters which passed between him and Sir Richard on the subject. The Bishop's interference was invoked by both parties. He was a timorous man, and for some time endeavoured to effect a compromise between them. His religious sympathies were, indeed, all with the Hall people, and, besides, he had a particular dislike to fall ing out with any of the " county families."
But then he could not veryr well throw the rector over board, who, he knew, had law and usage on his side. So he vainly endeavoured to induce Sir Richard and Lady De Marbury to allow the rector to nominate a minister to the chapel, he also un dertaking to pay the stipend. But this was refused point-blank, and with something like con tempt. It then came down to, might the rector have a veto in the appointment ? This was also refused, and most decidedly. Thino-s were now at a dead lock, and Mr. Hulton and his wife, who was quite as strong a partisan on her husband's side of the question as Lady De Marbury was on the opposite side, began to flatter themselves that the day was theirs, that the " Clapham faction " were defeated. But they^ little knew her ladyrship, or the resources which her noble father (who had been the secret adviser throughout) had to fall back .upon (if everything else failed) , sooner than yield to their "High Church" rector.
Accord ingly, a studiously civil intimation was sent to the Bishop that it was Sir Richard De Marbury's in tention to have the chapel that he had built licensed as a Dissenting meeting-house. This effected what, perhaps, nothing else would. Mr. Hulton shrunk with horror at the idea of a meeting-house within the very park, and of so many of his people being encouraged to declare themselves Dissenters ; so that, at the Bishop's urgent request, he withdrew his opposition ; and thus Donnington Chapel was duly licensed for public worship, " according to the rites and ceremonies of the United Church of England and Ireland." The great thing now was to get a "popular preacher," and (though such a thing was never named, yet it must have been uppermost in her ladyship's mind all along) to " empty the parish church ;" and then Lady De Marbury's triumph over the rector and his wife would be complete.
In the meantime that care which her ladyship took of the morals of the people about her, and the vigilant supervision which she exercised (each year more strictly) over their affairs in general, might with great advantage have been brought to bear upon her husband and his concerns. Poor Dick De Marbury (as he was generally called) made no pretensions to religion. He, perhaps, thought that his wife possessed a supererogation of it which might be of avail to himself. At any rate, he was the best of husbands in leaving her alone, to be as religious as ever she liked, and to eschew balls and Newchurch assemblies to the end of her days, and he found her money for all her pet plans and projects. But then it was pretty clearly under stood that he was not to be interfered with himself. He was to hunt, and shoot, and fish, to his heart's content.
He liked, too, to have his house full of company of one kind or another. Even old Lord Clapham, he would say, with his long extempore prayers, both morning and evening, and his end less preaching, even he was better than nobody^. Altogether, Sir Richard pursued a somewhat reck less course, living much above his income (as was discovered when it was too late), and constantly making extravagant purchases of land ; and, if his peccadilloes of another sort did not create any public scandal, it is to be feared that a dread of offending his rigidly proper wife, and her high born connections, contributed very materially to the outward appearance of decorum which Sir Richard invariably maintained. However, the end was not long in coming. Comparatively }roung as he was, yet early dissipation and "living hard," in the frequent company of his sporting com panions, cut short poor Dick's days in his thirtyr first yrear : he was carried off in a few days by gastric fever, and a hatchment over the door of Donnington Hall, and a long inscription, setting forth all his virtues, followed by a text of Scrip ture, beautifully executed on a marble slab in Donnington Church, were very soon all that remained to remind people of poor Dick De Marbury.
The grief of persons of Lady De Marbury's character is usually not very intense. She quietly took it for granted that her husband was in heaven — a happy inconsistency — for, if only one-half of that which her favourite preacher at the chapel dinned into people's ears, Sunday after Sunday, was true, when he apparently consigned nine-tenths of mankind to eternal perdition, it is to be feared that poor Dick's habitat was not exactly^ where his fond wife placed it. However, such reflections did not seem to trouble Lady De Marbury. She dwelt com placently upon the manyT schools and churches which her deceased husband had contributed towards — and especially upon that one crowning act of his life, the erection of Donnington Chapel, and the anxiety he had always expressed that his tenants and ser vants should be regular in their attendance at church; and so she arrived at the comfortable conclusion that, under an apparent carelessness and even boyishness of demeanour, there was laid up a store of deep religious feeling and conscientiousness in her late husband's bosom which, had his life only been prolonged, would no doubt have developed itself and borne much fruit.
Consoled by such reflections, her ladyship de voted herself to looking into her deceased husband's affairs, and to the care and bringing-up of her only child, then a boy of ten or eleven. Averse to public schools, and from an unwilling ness to lose sight of her child, Lady De Marbury was glad to turn to account the classical abilities of Mr. Hulton's curate, and to intrust young Sir John to his tuition. Accordingly, every morning, except Sundays, the lad might be seen trotting across the park upon his ponyr and making for the curate's lodgings, near the church. Sir Richard's earlyr and unlooked-for death had done something towards healing the breach between the Hall and the Rectory. He had always been partial to Mr. Hulton, as his widow would mention in conversation, alleging it as an instance of Sir Richard's great goodness of heart *nd forgiving disposition.
And, though irritated at the time at what he considered the rector's vexatious opposition to his ■wishes in the matter of the chapel, yet, for some time before his death, he had resumed his attendance of an afternoon at the parish church, and had even made some overtures towards a reconciliation with the rector and his wife. " Hang it !" Sir Richard used sometimes to say to one of his sporting companions ; " why ever did Hulton go and run counter to my Lady ? There, there is a stop put to all our intercourse. And I used to like Hulton to come up and dine here, and to have a chat with him. And there is his wife too — a prettier, nicer, brighter little thing I don't know anywhere ! They are as different as chalk is from cheese from that groan ing, cadaverous-looking fellow and his vulgar wife that we have got at our chapel here.
It was that precious father-in-law of mine who sent them here. I only wish I had caught a sight of the fellow's phiz before I engaged him. And then he preaches such tremendously long sermons, and drops his /.'s and all that sort of thing. He is a literate, or something of that sort ; and we can never have him at table when there is any one staying here. As for his wife, happily we are spared that infliction." In this way used Sir Richard to run on ; and it must be admitted that, down to the time of his death, the chapel had not quite fulfilled his or Lady De Marbury's expectations. The sort of men who came there were decidedly not desirable. And then there were such frequent changes. The position of the minister of the chapel, or the chaplain, as he was sometimes called, was an awkward one.
He had no cure of souls — had no right, strictly speaking, to visit ministerially in the parish, or to perform any other clerical office whatever outside the walls of his little chapel. And then the rector, Mr. Hulton, kept a very sharp eye upon the Hall chaplain and his doings, and would by no means, if he could possibly help it, permit the allegiance of his flock to be tampered with. He was, therefore, now more than doubly assiduous in his pastoral visiting, and would look up absentees from church with untiring energy. Besides, being a man of good family, and having been for so many years rector of the parish, and therefore well known to every one, he had manifestly a considerable advantage over those nameless individuals who from time to time filled the office of chaplain at Donnington Hall.
The opening of the book is shown; the full text loads in the reader.
Loading the full text…
The end
You’ve reached the end of Dormington Hall. A novel.