besides an old woman who was taken in the cave, and they are in the
Tower till we can get the magistrates here, and proper hands to see them
off. They came like rats from under ground. My master had made out where
to expect them, in one of the cellars, behind the great hogshead which
used to be filled at the birth of the heir, and emptied at his coming of
age. So we were ready in the cellar, and nabbed three of them there, and
the other, who was hindmost, and the woman, were taken as they ran out
the other way; and there they are in the strong-hold, that is, the four
men, but the woman is up above; and it is pitiful to hear how she howls
and cries, and calls for the Laird; but he fell asleep as soon as he
knew all was safe, and we have not the heart to disturb him."
"Well," said Mrs. Margaret, "I am most thankful that all is over without
bloodshed, and my nephew asleep. No wonder, as he has not slept since
twelve in the morning of yesterday."
"Excepting in his chair," said Tamar.
"But the provender, mistress," said the young man.
"Here," replied Tamar; "lift this pail on your head, and take this loaf,
and I will follow with what else I can find."
"Nay, Tamar," said Mrs. Margaret, "You would not go where there is such
a number of men and no woman, but that old witch Rebecca."
"I am not afraid of going where my father is," replied Tamar; "but I
must see that woman. I should know her immediately. I am convinced that
she is the very person who brought me to Shanty's shed. She hinted at
some connexion with me. Oh, horrible! may it not be possible that I may
have near relations among these miserable men who are shut up in the
strong-hold of the Tower?"
As Tamar said these words, she burst into tears, and sunk upon the bosom
of Mrs. Margaret, who, kissing her tenderly, said, "Child of my
affections, of this be assured, that nothing shall separate you from me.
My heart, methinks, clings more and more to you; and oh, my Tamar! that
which I seem most to fear is that you should be claimed by any one who
may have a right to take you from me."
This was a sort of assurance at that moment requisite to the poor girl;
and such, indeed, was the interest which Mrs. Margaret felt in
ascertaining if this really were the woman who had brought Tamar to
Shanty's, that she put on her hood and cloak, and having filled a basket
from the larder, she locked the cottage door, and went with Tamar to
the Tower. It was barely light when they crossed the moat, for the
bridge was not drawn; and when they entered the inner-court, they found
many of the peasants seated in a circle, dipping portions of the loaf in
Brindle's pail.
"Welcome! welcome! to your own place, Mrs. Margaret Dymock!" said one of
them, "and here," he added, dipping a cup into the pail, "I drink to the
restoration of the rightful heir and the good old family, and to your
house-keeping, Mrs. Margaret; for things are done now in another style
to what they were in your time."
A general shout seconded this sentiment, and Mrs. Margaret, curtseying,
and then pluming herself, answered, "I thank you, my friends, and
flatter myself, that had my power been equal to my will, no hungry
person should ever have departed from Dymock's Tower."
The ladies were then obliged to stand and hear the whole history of the
night's exploit,--told almost in as many ways as there were tongues to
tell it; and whilst these relations were going forward, the sun had
fairly risen above the horizon, and was gilding the jagged battlements
of the Tower.
Shanty was not with the party in the court, but he suddenly appeared in
the door-way of the Tower. He seemed in haste and high excitement, and
was about to call to any one who would hear him first, when his eye fell
on Tamar and Mrs. Margaret. "Oh, there you are," he said; "I was looking
for one of swift foot to bring you here. Come up this moment; you are
required to be present at the confession of the gipsy wife, who is now
willing to tell all, on condition that we give her her liberty. Whether
this can be allowed or not, we doubt; though she did not make herself
busy with the rest, but was caught as she tried to escape by
the knoll."
"Oh! spare her, if possible," said Tamar, "or let her escape, if you can
do nothing else to save her; I beseech you spare her!" Shanty made no
reply, but led the way to an upper room of the Tower, which had in old
time, when there were any stores to keep, (a case which had not occurred
for some years,) been occupied as a strong-hold for groceries, and other
articles of the same description; and there, besides the prisoner, who
stood sullenly leaning against the wall, with her arms folded, sat
Dymock and Salmon,--the Laird looking all importance, his lips being
compressed and his arms folded,--and old Salmon, being little better in
appearance than a _caput mortuum_, so entirely was the poor creature
overpowered by the rapid changes in the scenes which were enacting
before him.
Shanty had met Rebecca running down the stairs as he was bringing up
Mrs. Margaret, and he had seized her and brought her in, saying, "Now
old lady, as we are coming to a clearance, it might be just as well to
burn out your dross among the rest; or may be," he added, "you may
perhaps answer to the lumps of lime-stone in the furnace, not of much
good in yourself, but of some service to help the smelting of that which
is better,--so come along, old lady; my mind misgives me, that you have
had more to do in making up this queer affair than you would have it
supposed." The more Rebecca resisted, the more determined was Shanty;
neither did he quit his hold of the old woman, until the whole party had
entered the room, the door being shut, and his back set against it,
where he kept his place, like a bar of iron in a stanchion.
Chairs had been set for Mrs. Margaret and Tamar, and when they were
seated Dymock informed the prisoner that she might speak. Tamar had
instantly recognized her; so had Shanty; and both were violently
agitated, especially the former, when she began to speak. We will not
give her story exactly in her own words; for she used many terms, which,
from the mixture of gipsy slang and broad Border dialect, would not be
generally understood; but, being translated, her narrative stood as
follows:--
She was, it seems, of gipsy blood, and had no fixed habitation, but many
hiding places, one of which was the cavern or passage connected with
Dymock's Tower. Another of her haunts was Norwood Common, which, every
one knows, is near London, and there was a sort of head-quarters of the
gang, though, as was their custom, they seldom committed depredations
near their quarters. She said, that, one day being on the common, she
came in front of an old, black and white house, (which was taken down
not many years afterwards;) in the front thereof was a garden, and a
green lawn carefully trimmed, and in that garden on a seat sat an old
lady, a tall and comely dame, she said, and she was playing with a
little child, who might have been a year and-a-half old. The gipsy, it
seems, had asked charity through the open iron railing of the garden;
and the lady had risen and approached the railing, bringing the child
with her, and putting the money into the infant's hand to pass it
through the railing. The vagrant had then observed the dress and
ornaments of the child, that she had a necklace of coral, clasped with
some sparkling stone, golden clasps in her shoes, much rich lace about
her cap, and above all, golden bracelets of curious workmanship on
her wrists.
"She had not," said Rebecca; "she never wore those ornaments excepting
on festival days."
The vagrant took no notice of this remark of Rebecca's; but Shanty gave
the old servant a piercing look, whilst all others present, with the
exception of Salmon, felt almost fainting with impatience; but Salmon's
mind seemed for the moment in such a state of obtuseness, as disabled
him from catching hold of the link which was leading to that which was
to interest him as much as, or even more than, any one present. The
gipsy went on to say, that her cupidity was so much excited by these
ornaments, that she fixed her eye immediately on the family, and
resolved, if possible, to get possession of the child. She first
inquired respecting the family, and learned, that the house was occupied
by a widow lady, who had with her an only daughter, a married woman;
that the child she had seen belonged to that daughter; and that the
husband was abroad, and was a Jew, supposed to be immensely rich.
"I knew it," said Dymock, turning round and snapping his fingers; "I
hammered it out, Master Shanty, sooner than you did; I knew the
physiognomy of a daughter of Zion at the very first glance; you, too,
must never talk again of your penetration, Aunt Margaret," and the good
man actually danced about the room; but Shanty on one side, and Aunt
Margaret on the other, seized him by an arm, and forced him again upon
his chair, entreating him to be still; whilst Salmon roused himself in
his seat, shook off, or tried to shake off his confusion, and fixed his
eyes stedfastly on the vagrant.
The woman then went on to describe the means by which she had got a sort
of footing in this house; how she first discovered the back-door, and
under what pretences she invited the servants to enter into a sort of
concert with her for their mutual emolument, they bartering hare-skins,
kitchen grease, cold meat, &c., for lace, tapes, thread, ballads, and
other small matters.
"The thieves?" cried Salmon; but no one noticed him.
"There were only two servants in the house," said the gipsy; "there
might be others, but I saw them not, and one of those now stands here;"
and she fixed her eagle eye on Rebecca; "the other is Jacob."
"Jacob and Rebecca!" exclaimed Salmon; "it was my house, then, that you
were robbing, and my servants whom you were tampering with."
"Go on," said Dymock to the vagrant, whose story then proceeded to this
effect:--
She had visited the offices of this house several times; when, coming
one evening by appointment of the servants, with some view to bartering
the master's goods with her own wares, she found the family in terrible
alarm, she had come as she said, just at the crisis in which a soul had
parted, and it was the soul of that same old lady who had been playing
with the infant on the grass-plot.
Rebecca was wailing and groaning in the kitchen, for she needed help to
streak the corpse, and the family had lived so close and solitary, that
she knew of no one at hand to whom to apply, and she feared that the
dead would become stark and cold, before she could find help; Jacob was
not within, he had gone to London, to fetch a Doctor of their own creed,
and was not likely to be back for some time.
"And why? said I," continued the vagrant, "why, said I, should I not do
for this service as well as another? for many and many had been the
corpse which I had streaked; so she accepted my offer, and took me up to
the chamber of death, and I streaked the body, and a noble corpse it
was. The dame had been a comely one, as tall as that lady," pointing to
Dymock's aunt, "and not unlike her."
"Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Margaret, smiling, "I understand it now;" but
Dymock bade her be silent, and the vagrant went on.
"So," said she, "when I had streaked the body, I said to Rebecca we
must have a silver plate, for pewter will not answer the purpose."
"What for?" said she.
"'To fill with salt,' I answered, 'and set upon the breast.'
"So she fetched me a silver plate half filled with salt, and I laid it
on the corpse; 'and now,' I said, 'we must have rue and marjoram, run
down and get me some;' and then I frightened her, poor fool as she was,
by telling her that by the limpness of the hand of the corpse, I augured
another death very soon in the house."
"When I told this to Rebecca, the creature was so frightened, that away
she ran, leaving me in the room with the body. Swift as thought,"
continued the woman, "I caught the silver dish, and was running down
stairs,--it was gloaming--when I saw a door open opposite the chamber of
death, and there, in the glimmering, I saw the child of the family
asleep in a little crib. She had on her usual dress, with the ornaments
I spoke of, and seemed to have fallen asleep before her time, as she was
not undressed. I caught her up, asleep as she was, and the next moment I
was out in the yard, and across the court, and through the back-door,
and away over the common, and to where I knew that none would follow me,
but they of my people, who would help my flight."
"And the child with you," said Salmon, "did you take the child?"
"More I will not tell," added the woman; "no, nor more shall any
tortures force from me, unless you bind yourselves not to prosecute
me,--unless you promise me my liberty."
"I have told you," said the Laird, "that if you tell every thing you
shall be free,--do you question my truth?"
"No, Dymock," said the vagrant; "I know you to be a man of truth, and
in that dependence you shall hear all."
"I stripped the child of her gaudery, I wrapped her in rags, and I slung
her on my back; but I did her no harm, and many a weary mile I bore her,
till I came to the moor; and then, because she was a burden, and because
the brand on her shoulder would assuredly identify her, if suspicion
fell on me for having stolen her, I left her in the old blacksmith's
shed, and there she found a better father than you would have made her;
for what are you but a wicked Jew, with a heart as hard as the gold
you love."
The fixed, and almost stone-like attitude in which the old man stood for
some moments after his understanding had admitted the information given
by the vagrant, so drew the attention of all present, that there was not
a sound heard in the room, every one apprehending that the next moment
they should see him drop down dead, nor did any one know what was best
to do next; but this moment of terror was terminated by the old man's
sinking on his knees, clasping his hands, and lifting his eyes, and
breaking out in a short but solemn act of thanksgiving, and then turning
his head without rising, as it were looking for his daughter, she sprang
toward him, and threw her arms about him, whilst he still knelt. It
would be difficult to describe the scene which followed: Dymock began to
caper and exult, Mrs. Margaret to weep, Rebecca to utter imprecations,
and Shanty to sing and whistle, as he was wont to do when hammering in
his shed, and the vagrant to dare the old Jewess to deny any thing which
she had said. When Dymock had assisted Tamar to lift her father into the
chair, and when the old man had wept plentifully, he was again anxious
to examine the case more closely; and a discussion followed, in which
many things were explained and cleared up on both sides, though it was
found necessary for this end, to promise Rebecca that she should be
forgiven, and no vengeance taken upon her, if she should confess her
part of the history. This discussion lasted long, and the substance of
what was then opened to Tamar and her paternal friends was this:--Mr.
Salmon was, it seems, a Polish Jew, extremely rich, and evidently very
parsimonious; he had had mercantile concerns in London, and had there
married, when nearly fifty years of age, a beautiful young Jewess, whose
mother he had greatly benefitted, when in the most deplorable
circumstances. With this lady he had gone abroad, and it was very
evident that he had been a severe and jealous husband. She had brought
him a daughter soon after her marriage. This child was born in Poland,
Rebecca was her nurse; but Mrs. Salmon, falling into bad health
immediately after the birth of the child, she implored her husband to
permit her to return to England, and to her mother. Salmon saw that she
was not happy with him; and the strange suspicion seized him, as there
was little tie between him and his wife, that in case his own child
died, she might palm another upon him,--to prevent which, he branded the
babe with the figure of a palm branch, and sent her home, with Rebecca
and Jacob, who were both Jews, to watch her; though there was no need,
as Rachel was a simple, harmless creature. She was also in very bad
health when she reached England, and scarcely survived her mother three
days, and during that time hardly asked for her child; and the artful
servants had contrived to make their master believe that the baby had
proved a sickly deformed creature, and had died, and been buried in the
coffin with its mother.
Salmon was in Poland when all these horrors occurred, and there Jacob
and Rebecca found him; and having now no other object, he devoted
himself entirely to amassing riches, passing from one state of
covetousness to another, till at length he began to fall into the dotage
of avarice, which consists in laying up money for the sake of laying up,
and delighting in the view of hoards of gold and precious things. With
this madness in his mind, he turned much of his property into jewels,
and returning to England, he began to look about for a safe place
wherein he might deposit his treasures. But, as a Jew, he could not
possess land; he therefore passed the form of naturalization, and whilst
looking about for a situation in which he might dwell in safety, his
character and circumstances became in part known to the gipsies, (who,
amongst other thieves, always have their eyes on those who are supposed
to carry valuables about them,) and the man called Harefoot, formed the
plan of getting him and his treasures into Dymock's Tower. This Harefoot
was the nephew of the woman who had brought Tamar to Shanty's; and the
old miser, being tempted by the moat, and other circumstances of the
place, fell into the snare which had been thus skillfully laid for him.
It was not till after Salmon had come to the Tower, that the connection
between Salmon and Tamar was discovered by the old woman; and it was at
this time that she contrived to meet Tamar, and to convey the notion to
her, that she was of a gipsy family; fearing lest she should, by any
means, be led to an explanation with Salmon, before her nephew and his
gang had made sure of the treasure. Harefoot had supposed that he and
his gang were the only persons who knew of the secret passage; and the
reason why they had not made the attempt of robbing Salmon by that
passage sooner, was simply this, that Harefoot, having been detected in
some small offence in some distant county, had been confined several
weeks in a house of correction, from which he had not been set free
many days before he came to the moor, and took upon himself the conduct
of the plot for robbing Salmon.
What Jacob and Rebecca's plans were did not appear, or wherefore they
had not only fallen in with, but promoted the settlement of their master
in the Tower; but that their object was a selfish one cannot be doubted.
Had other confirmation been wanting, after the mark on Tamar's shoulder
had been acknowledged, the vagrant added it, by producing a clasp of one
armlet, which she had retained, and carried about with her in a leathern
bag, amongst sundry other heterogeneous relics; and she accounted for
having preserved it, from the fear she had of exposing a cypher wrought
on a precious stone, which might, she thought, lead to detection.
A dreadful hue and cry in the court below, soon after this disturbed the
conference. All seemed confusion and uproar; Dymock and Shanty rushed
down stairs, and aunt Margaret and Tamar ran out to the window in the
nearest passage; there they learnt that the prisoners had broken the
bars of their dungeon, swam the moat, and fled; and the ladies could see
the peasants in pursuit, scouring over the moor, whilst those they were
pursuing were scarcely visible.
"I am glad of it," said Tamar, "I should rejoice in their escape, they
will trouble us no more; and oh, my dear mother, I would not, that one
sad heart, should now mix itself with our joyful ones!"
Mrs. Margaret and Tamar stood at the window till they saw the pursuers
turning back to the castle, some of them not being sorry in their
hearts, at the escape of the rogues, but the most remarkable part of the
story was, that whilst they had all been thus engaged, the woman had
also made off, and, though probably not in company with her, that most
excellent and faithful creature Rebecca, neither of whom were ever
heard of again.
And now none were left, but those who hoped to live and die in each
other's company, but these were soon joined by the magistrates and legal
powers, who had been summoned from the nearest town, together with
people from all quarters, who flocked to hear and learn what was going
forward; and here was an opportunity not to be lost by Dymock and
Shanty, of telling the wonderful tale, and old Salmon having been
recruited with some small nourishment, administered by Mrs. Margaret,
presented his daughter to the whole assembly, and being admonished by
Shanty, placed in her hands before them, the deed of transfer of the
lands and castle of Dymock, which in fact to him, was but a drop in the
ocean of his wealth.
As she received this deed, she fell on one knee, and kissed her
venerable father's hand, after which he raised and embraced her,
paternal affection and paternal pride acting like the genial warmth of
the sun, in thawing the frost of his heart and frame. She had whispered
something whilst he kissed her, and as his answer had been favourable,
she turned to Dymock, and now bending on both knees, she placed the deed
in his hands, her sweet face at the same time being all moist with
gushing tears, falling upon her adopted father's hand.
Shanty in his apron and unshorn chin, explained to those about, what had
been done; for they, that is the Laird, Aunt Margaret, Salmon, and
Tamar, were standing on the elevated platform, at the door of the Tower:
and then arose such shouts and acclamations from one and all, as made
the whole castle ring again, and one voice in particular arose above the
rest, crying, "Our Laird has got his own again, and blessing be on her
who gave it him."
"Rather bless Him," cried Shanty, "who has thus brought order out of
confussion, to Him be the glory given in every present happiness, as in
all that we are assured of in the future."
As there were no means of regaling those present at that time, and as
Mr. Salmon was then too confused to do that which he ought to have done,
in rewarding those who had defended him, most of them being poor people,
they were dismissed with an invitation to a future meeting at the Tower;
two or three gentlemen, friends of Dymock, only being left. Much
consultation then ensued, whilst Mrs. Margaret bestirred herself, to
procure female assistance, and to provide the best meal, which could be
had at a short notice.
During this conference with the Laird and his friends, all of whom were
honourable men, Mr. Salmon was induced to consent to have his
treasures, his bonds, his notes and bills, consigned to such keeping as
was judged most safe; neither, could these matters be settled, without a
journey to town, in which Dymock accompanied him, together with a legal
friend of the latter of known respectability. We do not enter into the
particulars of this journey, but merely say, that Mr. Salmon in the joy,
and we may add, thankfulness of recovering his child, not only permitted
himself to be advised, but whilst in town made his will, by which, he
left all he possessed to his daughter, and this being concluded to the
satisfaction of all concerned, he returned to Dymock's Tower, laden with
presents for Mrs. Margaret.
Neither were Shanty's services overlooked; the cottage and land
appertaining thereunto, were to be his for life, free from rent and
dues, together with twenty pounds a year, in consideration of his
never-varying kindness to Tamar.
The old man wept, when told of what was done for him, and himself went
the next day to Morpeth, to bring from thence a sister, nearly as old as
himself, who was living there in hard service.
And here the memorandum from which this story is derived, becomes less
particular in the details.