is not unfrequently mistaken, even in this more enlightened age. He
never considered or understood, that all prophecy is delivered in
figurative language; every prophecy in the Old Testament having first a
literal and incomplete fulfilment, the complete and spiritual fulfilment
being future. He did not see that the Jews, according to the flesh, were
types of the Spiritual Israel; that David was the emblem of the
Saviour; and that the universal kingdom promised to the seed of David,
was no other than the kingdom of Christ, into which all the children of
God will be gathered together as into one fold under one Shepherd. Not
seeing this, he anticipated a period of earthly triumph for the Jews,
such as an ambitious, worldly man might anticipate with delight; and he
so filled the mind of his young pupil with these notions of the
superiority of her race, that it is a miracle that he did not utterly
ruin her. As it was, she counted herself greatly superior to all about
her, and was much hurt and offended when old Shanty represented the
simple truth to her, telling her, that even were she the lineal
descendant of Solomon himself, she could have no other privilege than
that of the lowest Gentile who has obtained a new birth-right in the
Saviour of mankind; "for," said he, "under the Gospel dispensation
there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek,--the same Lord
over all, is rich unto all that call upon him," Rom. x. 12.
It did not, however, suit Tamar to adopt these truths at the present
time; and as Shanty could not succeed with her, he took the liberty of
speaking to Mr. Dymock on the subject.
"Why do you fill the young girl's mind, Dymock," said he, "with such
fancies as you do? But, leaving her alone, let us speak of the Jews in
general. They that wish them well should not fill them up with notions
of a birth-right which they have forfeited, and thus confirm them in the
very same pride which led them to crucify the Lord of Glory. What is a
Jew more than another man? for he is not a Jew which is one outwardly;
neither is that circumcision which is outward in the flesh; but he is a
Jew which is one inwardly, and circumcision is that of the heart, in the
spirit, and not in the letter, whose praise is not of men but of God."
Rom. ii. 28, 29.
Mr. Dymock would not listen to honest Shanty on this subject, much as he
respected him; and, indeed, the poor Laird was at this time deeply
oppressed with other matters.
He had, in his various speculations, so entirely neglected his own
affairs for some years past, that poverty, nay actual penury, was
staring in his face. He had formerly mortgaged, by little and little,
most of his lands, and nothing now remained to make money of, but the
Castle itself and a few acres around it, with the exception only of a
cottage and a small field, hitherto occupied by a labourer, which lay in
a kind of hollow on the side of the knoll, where the entrance of the
secret cavern was. This cottage was as remote from Dymock's Tower in one
way, as Shanty's shed was in another; although the three dwellings
formed together a sort of equilateral triangle. Mr. Dymock long
suspected that this labourer had done his share to waste his substance;
and once or twice it had occurred to him, that if he left the Castle he
might retire to the cottage. But yet, to part with the Castle, could he
find a purchaser, would, he feared, be death to Mrs. Margaret, and how
would Tamar bear it?--this glorious Maid of Judah, as he was wont to
call her,--this palm tree of Zion, this daughter of David,--the very
fine person, and very superior air of Tamar having confirmed him in the
impression of her noble birth. It was whilst these heavy thoughts
respecting what must be done in the management of his affairs dwelt on
his mind, that the same man who had finished the unfortunate plough
appeared again in Shanty's shed.
The old man recognized him immediately, although fourteen years had much
changed his appearance, and he at once charged him with having had some
concern with the woman who left the child.
The well-acted astonishment of the vagrant, for such he was, silenced
Shanty, though it did not convince him that he was mistaken in his
conjecture. However, the old man, changing his mode of attack, and
regretting that he had put the stranger on his guard by giving him so
home a thrust, pretended to be convinced, and entered into easy
conversation with him; amongst other things asking him if perchance he
knew of any one who wanted to purchase an estate?
"Aye!" said the vagrant, to whom as we small have the pleasure of
introducing him again, we think it may be well to give the name of
Harefoot,--"Aye! old gentleman, and might one ask where this estate of
yours may be?"
"It is of no consequence," replied Shanty, "I answer no questions, as
not being empowered so to do. At all events, however, the estate is not
far from hence, and it is a magnificent place, I promise you, More's the
pity, that those who have owned it for some hundreds of years, should be
compelled to part with it."
Other matters were then introduced, and Shanty endeavoured to wind about
Harefoot, but with little success; for, deep as he thought himself, he
had one deeper to deal with. In truth, poor Shanty was but a babe in
cunning, and the vagrant departed, without having dropped a single hint
which could be taken hold of respecting Tamar. In the meantime troubles
were pressing upon poor Dymock, the interest of moneys lent on the
motgage was not forthcoming, and the Laird having no better friend (and
as to a sincerer he needed none,) than poor Shanty, used from day to day
to go down to the shed, to open his heart to the old man.
Shanty had long advised his patron to tell his situation to Mrs.
Margaret, and to advertise the sale of the castle, but Dymock's pride
had not yet so far submitted itself, as to enable him to make so public
a confession of the downfall of the family, as an advertisement
would do.
"I cannot open my heart to my aunt, Shanty," he said, "she, poor
creature, has devoted her whole life to keeping up the dignity of the
house; how, then, will she bear to see the whole labour of her life
annihilated?"
"The sooner she knows of what is coming the better," returned Shanty,
"if she is not prepared, the blow when it comes, will go nigh utterly to
overpower her," and the old man proposed to go himself, to open the
matter to her.
"You shall, Shanty, you shall," said the Laird, "but wait a little, wait
a little, we may hear of a purchaser for the castle, and when such a one
is found, then you shall speak to my aunt."
"But first," said Shanty, "let me prepare your adopted one, let me open
the matter to her; she is of an age, in which she ought to think and act
no longer as a child; it is now fourteen years since I carried her up in
my arms to Dymock's Tower, and though the young girl is too much filled
up with pride, yet I fear not but that she is a jewel, which will shine
brighter, when rubbed under the wheel of adversity; allowing what I
hope, that there is a jewel under that crust of pride."
"Pride!" repeated Dymock, flying off into the region of romance, "and if
a daughter of Zion, a shoot from the Cedar of Lebanon, is not to carry
her head high, who is to do so? the fate of her race may indeed follow
her, and she may be brought down, to sit in the dust, but still even in
the dust, she may yet boast her glorious origin."
Shanty raised his hands and eyes, "Lord help you! Dymock," he said, "but
you are clean demented. I verily believe, that the child is nothing
mere than the offspring of a begging gipsy, and that if her mother had
been hanged, she would only have met with her deserts."
Discussions of this kind were constantly taking place between Shanty and
Dymock, and it was in the very midst of one these arguments, that the
rare appearance of a hired chaise,--a job and pair, as Shanty called it,
appeared coming over the moor, directly to the shed, and so quick was
the approach, that the Laird and the blacksmith had by no means finished
their conjectures respecting this phenomenon, before the equipage came
to a stand, in the front of the hut.
As the carriage stopped, a spare, sallow, severe looking old gentlemen,
put his head out of the window, and calling to the post boy, in a sharp,
querulous tone, asked if he were quite sure that he was right?
"Not sure that this is old Shanty's hut; Shanty of Dymock's Moor,"
replied the post-boy, in a broad Northern accent; "ask me if I don't
know my own mother's son, though she never had but one bairn."
Dymock and Shanty no sooner heard the voice of the boy, than they both
recognized him, and stepping forward, they went up to the carriage and
offered to assist the old gentleman to alight; he received their
civilities with very little courtesy. However, he got out of the
carriage, and giving himself a shake, and a sort of twist, which caused
the lappets of his coat to expand, like the fan-tail of a pigeon, he
asked, if the place was Dymock's Moor, and if the old man he saw before
him, was one called Shanty of the Moor? The blacksmith declared himself
to be that same person, "and this gentlemen," he added, pointing to
Dymock, whose every day dress, by the bye, did not savor much of the
Laird, "This gentleman is Dymock himself."
"Ah, is it so," said the stranger, "my business then is with him, show
me where I can converse with him."
"I have no parlour to offer you," said Shanty; "to my shed, however,
such as it is, I make you welcome."
No gracious notice was taken by the stranger of the offer, but without
preamble or ceremony, he told his errand to Mr. Dymock. "I hear," he
said, "that you wish to sell your Tower, and the lands which surround
it; if after looking at it, and finding that it suits me, you will agree
to let me have it, I will pay you down in moneys, to the just and due
amount of the value thereof, but first I must see it."
"It stands there, Sir," said Shanty, seeing that Mr. Dymock's heart was
too full to permit him to speak; "it stands there, Sir, and is as noble
an object as my eye ever fell upon. The Tower," continued the old man,
"at this minute, lies directly under the only dark cloud now in the
heavens; nevertheless, a slanting ray from the westering sun now falls
on its highest turret; look on, Sir, and say wherever have you seen a
grander object?"
The old gentleman uttered an impatient pish, and said, "Old man, your
travels must needs have lain in small compass, if you think much of yon
heap of stones and rubbish." The Laird's choler was rising, and he would
infallibly have told the stranger to have walked himself off, if Shanty
had not pulled him by the sleeve, and, stepping before the stranger,
said something in a soothing way, which should enhance the dignity of
the Tower and encourage the pretended purchaser.
"I must see it, I must see it," returned the old gentleman, "not as now
mixed up with the clouds, but I must examine it, see its capabilities,
and know precisely what it is worth, and how it can be secured to me and
my heirs for ever."
It was warm work which poor Shanty now had to do; between the irritated
seller and the testy buyer, he had never been in a hotter place before
his own forge, and there was wind enough stirring in all reason, without
help of bellows, for the Laird puffed and groaned and uttered half
sentences, and wished himself dead, on one side of the old blacksmith,
whilst the stranger went on as calmly, coolly, and deliberately, with
his bargain, on the other side, as if he were dealing with creatures
utterly without feeling. Shanty turned first to one, and then to
another; nodding and winking to Dymock to keep quiet on one side, whilst
he continued to vaunt the merits of the purchase on the other.
At length, on a somewhat more than usually testy remark of the stranger
reaching the ears of the Laird, he burst by Shanty and had already
uttered these words, "Let me hear no more of this, I am a gentleman, and
abominate the paltry consideration of pounds, shillings, and pence;"
when Shanty forcibly seizing his arm, turned him fairly round,
whispering, "Go, and for the sake of common sense, hold your tongue,
leave the matter to me, let me bargain for you; go and tell Mrs.
Margaret that we are coming, and make what tale you will to her, to
explain our unceremonious visit; you had better have told her
all before."
The Laird informed Shanty that there was no need of going up to the
Tower to inform his aunt, as she and Tamar were gone that day over the
border to visit a friend; but added he, "I take your offer, Shanty, make
the bargain for me if you can, and I shall not appear till I am wanted
to sign and seal," and away marched the Laird nor was he forthcoming
again for some hours.
After he was gone, Shanty begged leave to have a few minutes given him
for washing his hands and face and making himself decent, and then
walked up with the testy old gentlemen to the castle. Little as Shanty
knew of the great and grand world, yet his heart misgave him, lest the
ruinous state of the castle, (although the Tower itself stood in its
ancient and undilapidated strength,) should so entirely disgust the
stranger that he should at once renounce all ideas of the purchase; he
was therefore much pleased when the old gentleman, having gone grumbling
and muttering into every room and every outhouse, crying, it is naught!
it is naught! as buyers generally do, bade Shanty tell the Laird that he
was going to the nearest town, that he should be there till the business
was settled, that he would give the fair valuation for the estate, and
that the payment should be prompt.
Shanty was, indeed astonished; he was all amazement, nor did he recover
himself, till he saw the old gentleman walk away, and get into his
carriage which was waiting on the other side of the moat, it not being
particularly convenient, on account of the total deficiency of anything
like a bridge or passable road? to bring a carriage larger than a
wheel-barrow up to the castle.
Dymock returned to the shed, when he, from some place of observation on
the moor, saw that the carriage had reached the high road, and there,
having been told all that had passed, the poor gentleman (who, by the
bye, was not half pleased with the idea of the honours of Dymock falling
into the hands of such a purchaser,) informed Shanty that he must
prepare to go with him the next day to Hexham, where the stranger had
appointed to meet him.
"I go with you!" exclaimed Shanty, "was ever so strange a conceit."
"I shall be fleeced, shorn, ruined," implied Mr. Dymock, "if I go to
make a bargain, without a grain of common sense in my company."
"True," returned Shanty, "your worship is right; but how are we to go? I
have plenty of horse-shoes by me, but neither you, nor I Laird, I fear
could find any four legs to wear them."
"We must e'en walk then," said Dymock, "nay, I would gladly carry you on
my back, rather than descend to the meanness of driving a bargain with a
testy old fellow like that; by the bye, Shanty, what does he
call himself?"
"Salmon," replied Shanty, "and I mistake if he has not a touch of the
foreigner on his tongue."
"You will accompany me, then Shanty," said the Laird.
"I will," he replied, "if this evening you will open the business out to
Mrs. Margaret."
"It cannot be Shanty," replied Dymock chuckling, "for she does not
expect to be back over the border till to-morrow, and when to-morrow is
over and we know what we are about, then you shall tell her all."
"Dymock," said Shanty, "you are hard upon me, when you have a morsel to
swallow that is too tough for you, you put it into my mouth; but," added
the old man kindly, "there is not much that I would refuse to do for
your father's son."
The sun had not yet risen over the moor, when Dymock and Shanty, both
arrayed in their best, set off for Hexham, where they found the crabbed
old gentlemen, still in the humour of making the purchase, though he
abused the place in language at once rude and petulant; his offer,
however, was, as Shanty compelled Dymock to see, a very fair one, though
the more sensible and wary blacksmith could not persuade his friend to
beware of trusting anything to the honour of Mr. Salmon.
Dymock's estate had been deeply mortgaged, the sale was made subject to
the mortgages, and the purchaser was bound to pay the mortgagee the
mortgage moneys, after which there was small surplus coming to poor
Dymock. This small surplus was, however, paid down on the signing of the
papers; still, however, there was an additional payment to take place
soon after possession.
This payment was, it was supposed, to be for fixtures and other
articles, which were to be left on the premises, and it was not to be
asked till Mr. Salmon had been resident a few weeks. The amount was
between five and six hundred pounds, and was in fact all that Dymock
would have to depend upon besides his cottage, his field, a right of
shooting on the moor, and fishing in a lake which belonged to the
estate, and about twenty pounds a year which appertained to Mrs.
Margaret, from which it was supposed she had made some savings.
Shanty had succeeded in forcing the Laird to listen to the dictates of
prudence, and to act with sufficient caution, till it came to what he
called the dirty part of the work, to wit, the valuation of small
articles, and then was the blood of the Dymocks all up; nor would he
hear of requiring a bond for the payment of this last sum, such a
document, in fact, as should bind the purchaser down to payment without
dispute. He contented himself only with such a note from the old man as
ought he asserted to be quite sufficient, and it was utterly useless for
Shanty to expostulate. The Laird had got on his high horse and was
prancing and capering beyond all the controul of his honest friend,
whilst Mr. Salmon, no doubt, laughed in his sleeve, and only lamented
that he had not known Dymock better from the first, for in that case he
would have used his cunning to have obtained a better bargain of the
castle and lands. It was not one nor two visits to Hexham which
completed these arrangements; however Mr. Dymock, after the first
visit, no longer refused to permit Shanty to open out every thing to his
aunt, and to prepare her to descend into a cottage, on an income of
forty or fifty pounds a year.
Mrs. Margaret bore the information better than Shanty had expected; she
had long anticipated some such blow, and her piety enabled her to bear
it with cheerfulness. "I now," she said, "know the worst, and I see not
wherefore, though I am a Dymock, I should not be happy in a cottage, I
am only sorry for Tamar; poor Tamar! what will become of her?"
"Oh mother! dear mother!" said Tamar weeping, "why are you sorry for me,
cannot I go with you? surely you would not part from me;" and she fell
weeping on Mrs. Margaret's bosom.
"Never before! oh, never before," cried Mrs. Margaret, "did I feel my
poverty as I do now."
"Mother dear! oh mother dear! had I thousands of pounds, I would devote
them all to you, and to my dear protector."
"God helping you, or God working in you Tamar," said Shanty, rubbing his
rough hand across his eyes, "but never boast of what you will do, dear
child; boasting does not suit the condition of humanity."
"Oh! that I could now find my father," she replied, "and if I could find
him a rich man, what a comfort it would be; what would I give now," she
added, "to find a rich father!"
Mrs. Margaret kissed her child, and wept with her, calling her a dear,
affectionate, grateful creature; but Shanty made no remark respecting
Tamar's gratitude; he had it in his mind to speak to her when alone, and
he very soon found the opportunity he wished.
It was on the next Sunday that he met Tamar walking on the moor, and it
was then that he thus addressed her, "I was sorry damsel," he said, "to
hear you speak as you did to Mrs. Margaret the other day, making a
profession of what you would do for her if you were rich, and yet never
offering her that which you have to give her."
"What have I to give her?" asked Tamar.
"Much," replied the old man; "much, very much. You have strength, and
activity, and affection to give her. With forty pounds a-year, a house,
and a little field, which is all your adopted parents will have, can
they, think you, keep a servant? Will not the very closest care be
necessary, and should not one who is young, and faithful, and attached,
rejoice to serve her benefactors at such time as this, and to render
their fall as easy as possible; and where, I ask you, Tamar, should they
find such service as you can render them?"
They were walking side by side, the old man and the beautiful girl,
among the heather of the moor; and he was looking up kindly and
animatedly to her,--for he was a remarkably short, thick-set man,--but
she was looking down on the ground, whilst a bitter struggle was passing
in her mind. She had been filled up by her guardian with wild fancies of
her own greatness, which was hereafter to be made manifest; and it would
have been too strong for unaided nature, to bring herself to submit to
such drudgeries as duty seemed now to require of her; her bright-brown
cheek was flushed with the inward contest, and her bosom seemed to be
almost swelled to suffocation. But the assistance required was not
withheld in the hour of need, and Shanty was soon made aware of the
change of feelings which was suddenly imparted to the orphan by the
change of the expression of her countenance; the tears had already
filled her eyes, when she turned to her old friend, and thanked him for
his reproof, expressing her conviction, that his advice was that of a
true Christian, and begging him always to tell her, in like manner,
when he saw that she was going wrong. A more general discussion on the
subject of true religion then followed, and Shanty assured Tamar, that
all high notions of self, whether of birth, talents, or riches, were
unpleasing in the sight of God, and utterly inconsistent with that view
of salvation by Christ, which is independent of all human merit. Such
was the nature of the lessons given by the old man to Tamar. His
language was, however, broad, and full of north-country phrases, so much
so, as to have rendered them inexplicable to one who had not been
accustomed to the Border dialect. From that day, however, through the
divine mercy, the heart of Tamar was given to the duties which she saw
before her, and all her activity was presently put into requisition; for
Mr. Salmon had given notice, that he should take possession of Dymock's
Tower as soon as it could be got ready for him, and he also sent persons
to make the preparations which he required. These preparations were of
a most singular nature; his object appeared neither to be the
beautifying of the old place, or even the rendering it more comfortable,
for he neither sent new furniture, nor ordered the restoration of any of
the dilapidated chambers or courts. But he ordered the moat to be
repaired, so that it could be filled and kept full, and he directed that
a light draw-bridge should also be erected. The walls of the inner
courts were also to be put to rights, and new gates added. There was a
great laugh in the country respecting this unknown humourist; and some
said he was preparing for a siege, and others going to set up for a
modern Rob Roy, and Castle-Dymock was to be his head-quarters.
The greater part of the furniture, and all the fixtures, were to be paid
for by the money for which the Laird had Mr. Salmon's memorandum; and
they who knew their condition, said that the things had been brought to
a good market, as little of the furniture would have been worth the
carriage across the moor. Nothing at present, therefore, remained for
the aunt and the nephew to do, but to remove to the cottage as soon as
it should be ready to receive them.
This humble habitation was situated in a small nook or vale of the moor
called Heatherdale. A little fresh-water spring ran through it, coming
in at the higher end of the valley, and going out through a natural
cleft in a block of granite at the other end. There were many tall trees
scattered on the banks within the dell; and the place was so sheltered,
that many a plant would flourish in the garden on the south side of the
house, which could hardly be kept alive in any other situation in
the country.
The cottage was an old, black, timbered and thatched edifice, and had
four rooms of considerable dimensions, two above and two below, with a
porch in the front, overgrown with briony and another hardy creeper. As
soon as this tenement was vacated, and the Laird's intention of
inhabiting it known, the ancient tenants of the family all manifested
their affection by using their several crafts in repairing the cottage,
and setting the house to rights,--one mended the thatch, another
repaired the wood-work, a third white-washed the walls, another mended
the paling, and old Shanty did any little job in his way which might
be required.
The labours of love never hang long on hand, and though the old tenant
had gone out only at Lady-day, the hawthorn had scarcely blossomed when
the affectionate people pronounced the work complete.
Poor Dymock had become very restless when he saw the changes which were
going on at the Tower; but when there was no longer an excuse to be
found for delaying the removal, he gave way altogether, or rather, we
should say, made a cut and run, and went off to botanize the lakes in
Westmoreland, with a knapsack on his back, and a guinea in his pocket.