His Dead Past

Front matter

NOVELS BY C. J. WILLS AN EASY-GOING FELLOW. ' The dialogue is crisp and aphoristic, and the ease and buoyancy of the style effectually prevent the reader from any feeling of ennui.' — Glasgow Herald. ' This is a distinctly clever story. . . . The plot is original, the style easy and pleasant, the characters well drawn, with light touches of humour, keen insight into human nature, and pathos — as witness the death of Harry Brandon — true and unforced. The novel will be widely read and warmly appreciated.' —Pall Mall Gazette. ' Quite the best thing Mr. C. J. Wills has done in fiction is "An Ensy-Going Fellow." There is a tone of frank good-nature, of careless bonhomie, running through the book, which is very taking.' — World. ' Tlie pessimistically inclined should read " An Easy-Going Fellow."

It will act as a capital and effective counter-irritant.' — Daily Chronicle. ' A fine strong story, faithful to the life it treats of, and with a deep moral at the back. . . . The " voluptuary" gets the full measure of his deserts in these realistic pages.' — Daily Courier. ' A capital, novel which with easy adaptation would make excellent melo drama. ' — Times. 'The novel is fluently written, and is a good piece of workmanship.' — Academy. THE PIT-TOWN CORONET: A Family Mystery. ' "The Pit-Town Coronet " is both interesting and well written.' — Athenæum. ' There is a great deal of real cleverness in the book. The characters are all alive, the conversations are exceedingly bright and natural ; there is in the novel a genuine vein of somewhat pungent humour, and the style has for the most part both vigour aud accuracy. . . .

The characters are very fresh and amusing. ' — Spectator. ' " The Pit-Town Coronet " is the best of a batch of novels now lying before us. Its author has won distinction in another field of literature by his admir able sketches of Persian life in the " Land of the Lion and Sun." The keen observation and subtle sense of humour there exhibited reappear in his novel, which possesses, moreover, a clever plot and several interesting characters.' — World. ' An exciting novel. . . . There is no denying the author's power, any more than his gift of humour. The village scenes are inimitable. . . . It is an exciting story. ' — Academy. IN AND ABOUT BOHEMIA. ' Eminently readable.' — Observer. 'Never fails to amuse. ' — Daily Telegraph. ' Fresh, wholesome, and clever.' — Manchester Guardian. ' Sparkles with smart sayings and genuine wit.' — Morning Post. ' To be hailed with delight by the railway-traveller or the hard-worked man.' — Athenæum. ' The author's reputation as a raconteur will be established beyond question.' — St. James's Gazette.

Chapter I. Introductory

Francis Tradescant was a second son, the second son of that wealthy and eccentric virtuoso, old Sir Ralph Tradescant. Time out of mind the younger son (it was a historical fact that the head of the house of Tradescant, from time immemorial, was never blessed with more than two male children; perhaps it was a racial peculiarity, just as the house pigeon and the turtle-dove never lay more than two eggs) had been sent into the army as a matter of course, with instructions from his father to return a hero, or to get gloriously knocked on the head. It was a sort of tradition, too, that the second son of the house of Tradescant was not to marry during the lifetime of his elder brother, provided that that elder brother was the happy progenitor of heirs male. It was a mere unwritten law ; but ever since the family had had a history, and the first Ralph Tradescant, who had been a creature of the great Cardinal Wolsey, had blossomed into a courtier and a states man in the Court of his patron's imperious master, King Henry VIII., it had never been broken.

In the plundering of the great religious houses Ralph Tradescant the first had been an active and unscrupulous agent, and of course religion had a good deal to do with it, for on his first master's fall he had declared himself a Protestant, and there is no zeal like the zeal of the recent renegade. It is not to be wondered at that Ralph Tradescant the first managed to accumulate a vast fortune in money, and also to become the possessor of a great estate. Nearly the whole of the lands of the Cistercian Monastery of St. Bernard, which was situated in the most fertile part of the Weald of Kent, came into his possession. But Ralph Tradescant as yet built no great house upon his Kentish estate ; he lived quietly but handsomely in the then fashionable quarter of Hatton Garden, and when bluff King Hal was in want of ready money, a thing which was not infrequent during the latter part of his reign, Master Ralph Tradescant was invariably in a position to obtain it for him.

In 1 54 1 , Ralph Tradescant sat in Parliament, and his vote was of course at the disposition of the Court, but at the same time he held several offices of profit under the Crown, and his official residence was at Hampton Court Palace. He is re- INTRODUCTORY 3 ported to have been an active instrument in the fall of Cromwell, Lord Essex, who was his personal enemy, and is said to have been present upon the scaffold at the execution of that nobleman. But though the man was a violent partisan, he had the wit to oppose the judicial murder of the Abbots of Glastonbury and Reading, and so succeeded in securing powerful friends and protectors among the Roman Catholic faction. When the Princess Mary ascended the throne, during the short Reign of Terror that immediately followed her accession Ralph Trades cant prudently fled to France.

In some mysterious way at this time he was able to secretly promote the Spanish marriage, and so managed to make his peace with the Court, returning to London in the suite of Philip of Spain. For the rest of the short reign of Mary Ralph Tradescant remained absolutely inactive, never leaving the walls of his great house in Hatton Garden, upon the plea of ill-health ; but no sooner was the breath out of the Queen's body than Ralph Tradescant suddenly recovered his health, and returned at once to public life. He became one of Elizabeth's most trusted advisers, and was knighted in recognition of his services to the Protestant religion, and as an old and trusted servant of the aged debauchee whom Her Majesty was pleased to style her ' late royal father of glorious memory.' Sir Ralph Tradescant married an orphan heiress late in life, and on his marriage he retired to Tradescant I — Towers, a mansion which he had recently built, principally from the ruins of that Cistercian Monastery of St. Bernard which years before had become his lawful spoil.

After the death of Sir Ralph Tradescant the family took little, if any, active part in political life. His son, in the time of James I., was made a baronet. Up to the date of the Reform Bill the Tradescant family had possessed two pocket-boroughs ; these they regularly disposed of to the highest bidder. The head of the house invariably found sufficient employment in the administration of his great estate ; to use the old-fashioned phrase, the Tradescants were kings in their own country. The eldest son of the house invariably went to Oxford to Magdalen College, and usually graduated; then he made the grand tour, and returned to Tradescant Towers, where he patiently waited until he came into his kingdom. This brings us to the commencement of our history. Old Sir Ralph Tradescant, the head of the family, lived at Tradescant Towers with his two grandsons, Ralph and Jasper, and his elder grandson the old man worshipped as the very apple of his eye ; for Ralph Tradescant in his old age was a childless man, his eldest son having died two years after his majority, and his second son, Francis, who had bitterly offended him by an imprudent marriage, was also dead, im penitent and unforgiven.

Young Frank Tradescant INTRODUCTORY 5 had gone into the Guards at nineteen years of age ; but though he went into the Guards he was no carpet knight, and on attaining his majority, when he had already enjoyed two London seasons which neither amused nor interested him, being anxious to see active service and to shoot big game, he exchanged into a line regiment then in India, much to his father's disgust and indignation. Old Sir Ralph Tradescant signified his displeasure by cutting down his son's large allowance to a thousand a year. In India, however, a young fellow of one-and twenty with an allowance of a thousand a year is a rara avis, a veritable black swan. Of course, Frank Tradescant had a ' high old time ;' he would have been made an aide-de-camp to the Governor- General to a certainty, with the privilege of never leaving Simla during the hot weather, but Frank Tradescant wanted to see active service, so he loyally stuck to his regiment, which was stationed at Bangalore.

To use an expression common among military men, every unmarried woman in the station ' had a shy ' at Captain Frank. In India a young fellow with an allowance of a thousand a year is a very big prize indeed. But Frank Tradescant, having come out to see active service and to shoot big game, like the deaf adder, declined to listen to the voices of the charmers. In vain the sirens sang to this young Ulysses ; for, figuratively speaking, he chained himself to the mast of duty. Then he caused himself to be banished to a remote out-station for the sake of the tiger-shooting ; naturally, the ladies of Bangalore declared that the cup of the young man's iniquity was full to overflowing. It was out of gratitude that young Frank Trades cant committed what was, in his father's eyes, his unpardonable crime.

The young fellow had been very ill after a 'go' of sunstroke, which he got during the successful pursuit of a big man-eater. Pretty Ethel Finch, Major Finch's only daughter, had nursed him ; he fell in love out of gratitude ; and within a fortnight — they do this sort of thing very quickly in India ; why, they even bury you within twenty-four hours — the Government Chaplain happening to be passing through the station, he married Ethel Finch. In India, if one happens to be in a remote station and he likes a girl, and a Govern ment Chaplain happens to pass through, a man doesn't as a rule care to miss the splendid opportunity of making a fool of himself. Francis Tradescant was like most Anglo-Indian men, he seized the oppor tunity, he married Ethel Finch out of gratitude, and despatched the glorious news to the old man at home.

A month afterwards he received a letter from his father's solicitors which acknowledged the receipt of his telegram, and informed him that his allowance was discontinued, and that the owner of Tradescant Towers had washed his hands of him for ever. INTRODUCTORY 7 Captain Frank Tradescant, having two hundred a year of his own from his mother and a proper pride, took his father at his word ; he didn't ask to be for given, he didn't ask that his allowance might be continued ; for three years he went on shooting tigers, and led a life of perfect happiness. A little daughter and afterwards a son were born to him, then he died of cholera, ' having,' as his father put it to his elder brother, 'gone quietly to the devil in his own way.' As we all know, fathers have flinty hearts. Then the late Francis Tradescant's elder brother died also ; but this made no difference to Frank Tradescant's widow and orphans.

His elder brother's two sons went to live under their grandfather's roof at Tradescant Towers, and if it hadn't been for the two-days-old Times newspaper which Frank Trades cant's widow received regularly by post from that war-worn veteran her father, Colonel Finch, half pay, she would never have known of her brother-in law's death. Not that they had promoted poor old Finch ; it was merely nominal, that lieutenant-colonelcy of his, and the old fellow's half-pay was regularly eaten up every quarter, all but a ten-pound note, by the London agents of Cursetji Puggriwalla, the Parsee money-lender at Bangalore. Old Colonel Finch managed to keep a decent coat on his back, he managed to pay his subscription to his club ; how he did it and how he lived was a mystery even to his daughter ; and when he was absolutely without resources he would come down to Knolebury to ' re cuperate,' as he called it.

Now, by recuperating Colonel Finch meant a good dose of country air, a good dose of comfort and coddling and wholesome food, and a wearisome period of waiting for the happy day when the miserable remnant of his half pay became due to him. Colonel Finch would accept his daughter's hospitality ; he thoroughly enjoyed the home comforts at the little house at Knolebury, comforts which fell to his share nowhere else, and during these periods of enforced exile from the joys of town he invariably put on flesh and became healthier and happier. But the old man drew the line at board and lodging ; he knew how very poor Mrs. Frank Tradescant was, and, save for the occasional loan of a five-pound note which he repaid with a proud punctiliousness, there were never any money transactions between father and daughter.

Mrs. Tradescant had come to live at Knolebury upon her return to England from India at her husband's death principally for the benefits of cheap education, which she got for her boy at the Eliza bethan Grammar School of the place, and because rents were low at Knolebury, and because it was possible for her to live there respectably with her boy and girl upon the two hundred a year which had come to her from her late husband. INTRODUCTORY 9 At the period of the commencement of this history Cynthia Tradescant was the recognised belle of Knolebury ; there couldn't be a doubt of that, for the junior curate always blushed whenever he met Miss Tradescant, which is the way in which young curates invariably pay their tribute to beauty ; the portly vicar, too, always stopped the girl to inquire as to her mother's health, about which he would possibly have not been so anxious if Cynthia Tradescant had not been the beauty of the place.

The girl was well educated, too, though Mrs. Tradescant had never sent her to school. A woman who attempts to educate her own daughter is worthy of respect ; a woman who succeeds in doing so deserves our adora tion as a voluntary martyr, because for her child's sake she must, for a time at least, have sacrificed the happiness of her own life. Mrs. Tradescant had not only given her daughter a sound education, but she had taken her boy in hand ; for his sake she had actually learnt Latin, and now that he was fifteen, she was able, with the aid of a dictionary, to tackle an Ode of Horace, though her quantities were, as her boy put it, atrocious. It is said that you cannot learn prosody without the assistance of a cane ; as we know Mrs. Tradescant's Latin was self-taught, that theory would possibly account for her false quantities.

Young Frank Tradescant wouldn't have worked so hard at school if he had had brothers to play with at home ; practically, as a child he had had no playmates, for his sister Cynthia, being two years his senior, with a girl's natural precocity, while they were small children, spoke of and thought of her brother as ' the baby,' and loved and despised him accordingly, as is the manner of little girls of tender years. But though she despised her little brother on account of his extreme youth, she joined with her mother in that ecstatic child-worship which is so very dear to the hearts of women of any age ; the great functions of the day to Cynthia and her mother were the robing and unrobing of the little Franky, his sleepings and his wakenings, and the proud privilege of hearing him babble forth his childish prayers.

I wonder how often Francis Tradescant's widow, in her heart of hearts, had compared that pretty kneeling child of hers, in his white nightdress, to the infant Samuel. She was dreadfully poor, but she was a proud and happy mother all the same. What a trial it was to that proud and happy mother and her little daughter when the tiny fellow's golden ringlets were sacrificed at the altar of common-sense, and in the twinkling of an eye the child ceased to be ' baby,' and was suddenly transformed into Master Frank Tradescant, aged four ! He was a handsome child ; doubtless, had he been a puny weakling the fond mother would have loved him none the less ; but as she looked upon his stout limbs, his clear complexion and his honest eyes, and noted the striking likeness INTRODUCTORY 11 to his dead father, whom she had loved so well, we may forgive Mrs. Tradescant for idolizing her boy.

Of course the child became what is called old fashioned ; from associating so much with his mother he began to reason with a wit beyond his years ; and when most children of his age were struggling with the alphabet, he had already learned to read, and having no playmates of his own age and sex, he early began to find friends in books. He soon became a heroworshipper ; to him the Knight of the Leopard, Quentin Durward, and Nigel Olifaunt, were no mere shadows, they actually existed. His father's old regimental sword, which hung upon the wall, was to him not a mere heirloom, it was a sacred talisman, an Excalibur, that it became the dream of the boy's secret ambition one day to grasp ; and as he listened to his grandfather's tales, it seemed to him the most natural thing in life that he should follow in his dead father's footsteps and be a soldier too.

Chapter II. Mr

BIRD AND COLONEL FINCH. There is a mysterious part of London which few respectable people ever visit from choice ; the streets are narrow and badly lighted, and the inhabitants generally have not the best of reputations. A large proportion of them are foreigners, persons with no ostensible means of support. There are dingy little restaurants, in which a French dinner, wine included and bread at discretion, may be obtained for something less than a florin ; there are shops at which may be purchased those strange and generally evilsmelling comestibles which are necessary to the existence of what may be termed the miscellaneous foreigner. The cheeses of Brie, Roquefort, and Limburg ; the sausages of Aries, and numerous Provencal dainties flavoured with garlic, which are so dear to the heart of the southern Frenchman ; bottles of truffles and olives, and jars of French and German mustard, macaroni and Italian pastes of an unusually brilliant yellow colour ; miscellaneous pates in dainty earthenware pots ; little sham hams ready cooked and bread-crumbed, with a tiny artificial shank bone looking more natural than nature, and a frill of pink or white tissue-paper well-nigh as big as the ham itself.

Then there are innumerable retail wine merchants, where one sees the straw-covered flasks of Chianti, gaily-foiled flagons of Asti Spumante, Vesuvio, and stacks of humbler black bottles ticketed 'Barolo, io^d.,' for in these shops wine is usually sold by the bottle and not by the dozen : there is ver mouth, chartreuse, both green and yellow, and absinthe of various brands, with cognac, eau de vie, and fine champagne, rhum de la Compagnie Coloniale, byrrh, benedictine, and a mysterious beverage labelled ' vin de Madere.' There are foreign butchers who dispose of trimmed cutlets and small chunks of meat of dark and dreadful aspect. There is a poulterer's where blackbirds, thrushes, sparrows, ortolans and beccaficos may be obtained, and even starlings are on sale ; also the thin and bilious-looking carcases of geese which appear to have died of grief, but which when larded, truffled and stuffed with chestnuts, and deluged with an aromatic gravy, will doubtless subsequently make a brave show on the festive board of some hospitable mossoo.

There are even foreign tobacconists with tiny stocks of French, Swiss, Belgian and Hamburg cigars, some of the latter abominations being done up in gilded foil of portentous size and length, and placed in boxes stamped with the choicest brands; there are little packets of tobacco marked ' Caporal, with the blue-paper band and seal of the French Regie ; but the principal stock of these tobacconists almost invariably consists of yellow-paper boxes of bad Italian vestas, decorated with pornographic pictures, and innumerable packets of cigarette-paper. The appropriate centre of this delectable neighbour hood is St. James's Workhouse. Every door has at least three bell handles, and the number of brass plates in what may be termed the heart of Continental London is surprising ; it forces you at once to the conclusion that this is a most professional quarter, for the plates bristle with the names of professors : there are professors of fencing, of singing, of dancing, of music, of the violin, the zither, the concertina, the oboe, the trombone, and even the kettle-drum.

There are innumerable tailors, milliners, dressmakers and habit makers ; there is even a poodles' barber, a manicure, and several chiropodists. There are masseuses, and also a sage femme ; and in Carnaby Street and the region round about the average foreigner may feel thoroughly at home. There is no smell of drains, which he would of course miss, but there is a fine full mixed aroma of garlic, aniseed and hot fried potatoes, which would doubtless compensate for this. In the third-floor front-room of number 37A, Carnaby Street, an old gentleman in his shirt-sleeves was very busy indeed. He had just completed the making of his own bed. He then proceeded to clear away his breakfast equipage ; that didn't take long, for the equipage consisted of an old newspaper, a pint basin, and a spoon which had once been plated, but from long service had now assumed an almost golden hue.

Then the old gentleman with reverent hand took a well-cut frock-coat and vest from a little hanging cupboard in the corner, and carefully and respectfully brushed them on the deal-topped loo-table with the sham mahogany foot that occupied the centre of the room. He then proceeded to polish a pair of patent-leather shoes with a duster, till they resembled the 'shining morning face' of the proverbial whining schoolboy. A pair of drab gaiters were now brushed, examined, finally approved, and placed by the side of the shoes ; then the old gentleman shaved himself with punctilious care, and when he had done so went over his wrinkled old face with a powder puff, carefully removed the excess of starch with a towel, and then stared at his countenance for full sixty seconds in the lookingglass, to assure himself that the result was perfectly satisfactory ; he then proceeded to touch up his suspiciously brown moustache and eyebrows with something sticky from a bottle ; then he lighted a candle, heated the stem of a clay pipe in the flame thereof, and converted the little wisp of iron-gray hair in front of each ear into a pair of delicately curled whiskers.

This old man hadn't much hair, but what he had he made the most of; he brushed it carefully and tenderly with a pair of ivory brushes yellow with age, relics of the long past days of his youthful extravagance, whose backs bore his monogram in silver. Then he divested himself of an ancient gray felt dressing-gown, he put on the carefully prepared shoes and gaiters, and then arrayed himself in a nameless but unimpeachably spotless linen ephod, which formed at once a shirt-front and a collar. The tying of the bow of his blue bird's-eye neckerchief was a long and anxious process ; at last it was completed to his satisfaction. Then came the important matter of induing the coat and waistcoat ; he didn't merely put them on as ordinary mortals do, he indued them ; the waistcoat was carefully pulled down, the artfully-padded coat was dragged well forward over the veteran's chest, the sleeves were tugged at in succession, and then carefully smoothed till not a crease was apparent ; then the old gentle man turned his back to the glass and examined the effect by looking over his own shoulder ; then he put on a pair of snow-white false cuffs, in each of which sparkled a solitaire formed by an Indian mohur of purest gold ; he next took out from the hanging cupboard a handsome silver-mounted silk umbrella which he opened, closed and re-rolled with practised hand, till it had attained the necessary degree of slimness ; then a nearly new Lincoln and Bennett hat taken from a band-box was inspected, brushed, and finally polished with an open silk handkerchief, which was twirled round and round it till it ' shone like burnished jet.' Then the old gentleman took a pair of well-worn buff-coloured gloves, blew into them and grasped them carelessly in his left hand.

Taking the brim of his hat daintily between his finger and thumb, he gave it a knowing cock, and then he cleared his throat and looked into the mirror for the last time. ' Demned nuisance, old fellow,' said the veteran, addressing his own reflection, ' that we have to valet ourselves, isn't it?' Then he smiled patronizingly at his reflection, and his reflection smiled at him. Just then there came a timid knock at the door, and the smile faded from the old gentleman's face. ' Who is it ?' he cried fretfully. ' Please, Mr. Bird, it's only me,' said a melancholy voice from the landing. ' Come in, my good woman, come in !' cried the old gentleman. ' What can I do for you ?' he added, in a patronizing tone. ' Pray take a seat, Mrs. Blim,' he continued with a flourish, indicating one of the two ancient chairs in a lordly manner. * I've got to ask you to let me have a trifle on account, Mr. Bird,' whined the washed-out woman in seedy widow's weeds who had entered the room, declining the offer of the chair with a deprecatory gesture. ' I wouldn't make so bold, sir, but that I've got to do it, for the Queen's taxes, as every gentleman knows, won't be trifled with, and it's three-eleven-six by twelve to-morrow, sir, or Holloway Gaol, and my sole trust, sir, is in Providence and you.' ' But I don't owe any rent, Mrs. Blim ; you had your seven shillings the day before yesterday ; what more can you want ?' ' I know I'm a little previous, sir ; but my first floor owes three quarters and my second is vacant.

I wouldn't have come to you, sir, if I hadn't known you was a gentleman. Being the mother of seven, sir, which all died in early infancy, I little thought I should ever have come to this, sir ; but you don't know what a widow's feelings are, sir, when her second floor is vacant.' ' I wish I could help you, my good woman,' said Mr. Bird sadly ; ' but things are very tight, very tight indeed, in the City just now, and I have over drawn my balance at my banker's, upon my soul I have. You have my sympathy, Mrs. Blim ; but a man's sympathy cannot take a practical form when his account at his banker's is overdrawn. Your late husband should have insured his life, Mrs. Blim, and so provided for the rainy day.' ' Ah, sir,' groaned the landlady, ' it rains all the year round with me, and it's light come, light go with most professionals, sir, and they never insure their lives.

He was a strong man, sir, was Blim, and used to break half-crowns between his teeth, and bust steel chains with his chest, and the things he could do with dumb-bells, sir, would have turned the head of any woman, and he was a favourite at all the halls, Mr. B. ; but that sort of man don't save money, you know, or insure his life. It was just champagne, and cigars, and fur-coats while Blim was at the top of the tree, and then he strained himself and went out like the snuff of a candle, as most of them do.' ' I can let you have a sovereign, Mrs. Blim,' said Mr. Bird, ' but that's all I can do for you, and we'll work it off in rent, and in three weeks we shall be quits.' And then Mr. Bird thrust his hand into his trousers pocket and took out the coin, and dropped it into the grateful widow's outstretched palm. ' May the blessing of- ' Don't, Mrs. Blim,' cried Mr. Bird, interrupting her. ' I beg you won't ; I can't stand that sort of thing, you know ; I don't like it.

But I'll tell you what you can do, Mrs. Blim : you can wish me luck.' ' I do wish you luck, sir,' cried the woman, with a dismal grimace which she intended for a smile, ' the best of luck, sir, because you're a real good sort, sir, that's what you are ;' and then the woman began to sob. ' Goo^-morning, good-morning, Mrs. Blim,' cried 2 — Mr. Bird, nodding genially to the grateful woman. 'I've got an appointment, you know, a most im portant appointment, and, 'pon my soul, I shall miss it, I shall, indeed.' ' What an old fool I am !' he muttered to himself, as he hurried down the dark and narrow staircase. ' Women invariably succeed in getting round me, even the old and ugly ones.' Then Mr. Bird opened the street - door very cautiously: he poked his head out, he looked up the street and down the street ; there wasn't a decently-dressed person in sight, and then Lieutenant- Colonel Finch swaggered out of Carnaby Street, and proceeded in the direction of Regent Street, his chest well out, and looking as though he were monarch of all he surveyed.