CHAPTER IV.

A CHAPTER OF FOOLS.

The same afternoon, as it happened, a little company of rustics, who had

just issued from the low hatch-door of the village inn, stood for a

moment under the sign of the Crown and Mitre, which swung huskily

creaking from the bough of an ancient thorn tree, then passed on to the

road, and took their way together.

'Hope you then,' said one of them, as continuing their previous

conversation, 'that we shall escape unhurt? It is a parlous business.

Not as one of us is afeard as I knows on. But the old earl, he do have a

most unregenerate temper, and you had better look to 't, my masters.'

'I tell thee, master Upstill, it's not the old earl as I'm afeard on,

but the young lord. For thou knows as well as ere a one it be not

without cause that men do call him a wizard, for a wizard he be, and

that of the worst sort.'

'We shall be out again afore sundown, shannot we?' said another. 'That I

trust.'

'Up to the which hour the High Court of Parliament assembled will have

power to protect its own--eh, John Croning?'

'Nay, that I cannot tell. It be a parlous job, and for mine own part,

whether for the love I bear to the truth, or the hatred I cherish toward

the scarlet Antichrist, with her seven tails--'

'Tush, tush, John! Seven heads, man, and ten horns. Those are the

numbers master Flowerdew read.'

'Nay, I know not for your horns; but for the rest I say seven tails. Did

not honest master Flowerdew set forth unto us last meeting that the

scarlet woman sat upon seven hills--eh? Have with you there, master

Sycamore!'

'Well, for the sake of sound argument, I grant you. But we ha' got to do

with no heads nor no tails, neither--save and except as you may say the

sting is in the tail; and then, or I greatly mistake, it's not seven

times seven as will serve to count the stings, come of the tails what

may.'

'Very true,' said another; 'it be the stings and not the tails we want

news of. But think you his lordship will yield them up without

gainsaying to us the messengers of the High Parliament now assembled?'

'For mine own part,' said John Croning, 'though I fear it come of the

old Adam yet left in me, I do count it a sorrowful thing that the earl

should be such a vile recusant. He never fails with a friendly word, or

it may be a jest--a foolish jest--but honest, for any one gentle or

simple he may meet. More than once has he boarded me in that fashion.

What do you think he said to me, now, one day as I was a mowin' of the

grass in the court, close by the white horse that spout up the water

high as a house from his nose-drills? Says he to me--for he come down

the grand staircase, and steps out and spies me at the work with my old

scythe, and come across to me, and says he, "Why, Thomas," says he, not

knowin' of my name, "Why, Thomas," says he, "you look like old Time

himself a mowing of us all down," says he. "For sure, my lord," says I,

"your lordship reads it aright, for all flesh is grass, and all the

glory of man is as the flower of the field." He look humble at that,

for, great man as he be, his earthly tabernacle, though more than

sizeable, is but a frail one, and that he do know. And says he, "Where

did you read that, Thomas?" "I am not a larned man, please your

lordship," says I, "and I cannot honestly say I read it nowheres, but I

heerd the words from a book your lordship have had news of: they do call

it the Holy Bible. But they tell me that they of your lordship's

persuasion like it not." "You are very much mistaken there, Thomas,"

says he. "I read my Bible most days, only not the English Bible, which

is full of errors, but the Latin, which is all as God gave it," says he.

And thereby I had not where to answer withal.'

'I fear you proved a poor champion of the truth, master Croning.'

'Confess now, Cast-down Upstill, had he not both sun and wind of

me--standing, so to say, on his own hearth-stone? Had it not been so, I

could have called hard names with the best of you, though that is by

rights the gift of the preachers of the truth. See how the good master

Flowerdew excelleth therein, sprinkling them abroad from the

watering-pot of the gospel. Verily, when my mind is too feeble to grasp

his argument, my memory lays fast hold upon the hard names, and while I

hold by them, I have it all in a nutshell.'

Fortified occasionally by a pottle of ale, and keeping their spirits

constantly stirred by much talking, they had been all day occupied in

searching the Catholic houses of the neighbourhood for arms. What

authority they had for it never came to be clearly understood. Plainly

they believed themselves possessed of all that was needful, or such men

would never have dared it. As it was, they prosecuted it with such a

bold front, that not until they were gone did it occur to some, who had

yielded what arms they possessed, to question whether they had done

wisely in acknowledging such fellows as parliamentary officials without

demanding their warrant. Their day's gleanings up to this point--of

swords and pikes, guns and pistols, they had left in charge of the host

of the inn whence they had just issued, and were now bent on crowning

their day's triumph with a supreme act of daring--the renown of which

they enlarged in their own imaginations, while undermining the courage

needful for its performance, by enhancing its terrors as they went.

At length two lofty hexagonal towers appeared, and the consciousness

that the final test of their resolution drew nigh took immediate form in

a fluttering at the heart, which, however, gave no outward sign but that

of silence; and indeed they were still too full of the importance of

unaccustomed authority to fear any contempt for it on the part of

others.

It happened that at this moment Raglan Castle was full of merry-making

upon occasion of the marriage of one of lady Herbert's

waiting-gentlewomen to an officer of the household; and in these

festivities the earl of Worcester and all his guests were taking a part.

Among the numerous members of the household was one who, from being a

turnspit, had risen, chiefly in virtue of an immovably lugubrious

expression of countenance, to be the earl's fool. From this peculiarity

his fellow-servants had given him the nickname of The Hangman; but the

man himself had chosen the role of a puritan parson, as affording the

best ground-work for the display of a humour suitable to the expression

of countenance with which his mother had endowed him. That mother was

Goody Rees, concerning whom, as already hinted, strange things were

whispered. In the earlier part of his career the fool had not

unfrequently found his mother's reputation a sufficient shelter from

persecution; and indeed there might have been reason to suppose that it

was for her son's sake she encouraged her own evil repute, a distinction

involving considerable risk, seeing the time had not yet arrived when

the disbelief in such powers was sufficiently advanced for the safety of

those reported to possess them. In her turn, however, she ran a risk

somewhat less than ordinary from the fact that her boy was a domestic in

the family of one whose eldest son, the heir to the earldom, lay under a

similar suspicion; for not a few of the household were far from

satisfied that lord Herbert's known occupations in the Yellow Tower were

not principally ostensible, and that he and his man had nothing to do

with the black art, or some other of the many regions of occult science

in which the ambition after unlawful power may hopefully exercise

itself.

Upon occasion of a family fete, merriment was in those days carried

further, on the part of both masters and servants, than in the greatly

altered relations and conditions of the present day would be desirable,

or, indeed, possible. In this instance, the fun broke out in the

arranging of a mock marriage between Thomas Rees, commonly called Tom

Fool, and a young girl who served under the cook. Half the jest lay in

the contrast between the long face of the bridegroom, both congenitally

and wilfully miserable, and that of the bride, broad as a harvest moon,

and rosy almost to purple. The bridegroom never smiled, and spoke with

his jaws rather than his lips; while the bride seldom uttered a syllable

without grinning from ear to ear, and displaying a marvellous

appointment of huge and brilliant teeth. Entering solemnly into the

joke, Tom expressed himself willing to marry the girl, but represented,

as an insurmountable difficulty, that he had no clothes for the

occasion. Thereupon the earl, drawing from his pocket his bunch of keys,

directed him to go and take what he liked from his wardrobe. Now the

earl was a man of large circumference, and the fool as lank in person as

in countenance.

Tom took the keys and was some time gone, during which many conjectures

were hazarded as to the style in which he would choose to appear. When

he re-entered the great hall, where the company was assembled, the roar

of laughter which followed his appearance made the glass of its great

cupola ring again. For not merely was he dressed in the earl's beaver

hat and satin cloak, splendid with plush and gold and silver lace, but

he had indued a corresponding suit of his clothes as well, even to his

silk stockings, garters, and roses, and with the help of many pillows

and other such farcing, so filled the garments which otherwise had hung

upon him like a shawl from a peg, and made of himself such a 'sweet

creature of bombast' that, with ludicrous unlikeness of countenance, he

bore in figure no distant resemblance to the earl himself.

Meantime lady Elizabeth had been busy with the scullery-maid, whom she

had attired in a splendid brocade of her grandmother's, with all

suitable belongings of ruff, high collar, and lace wings, such as Queen

Elizabeth is represented with in Oliver's portrait. Upon her appearance,

a few minutes after Tom's, the laughter broke out afresh, in redoubled

peals, and the merriment was at its height, when the warder of one of

the gates entered and whispered in his master's ear the arrival of the

bumpkins, and their mission announced, he informed his lordship, with

all the importance and dignity they knew how to assume. The earl burst

into a fresh laugh. But presently it quavered a little and ceased, while

over the amusement still beaming on his countenance gathered a slight

shade of anxiety, for who could tell what tempest such a mere whirling

of straws might not forerun?

A few words of the warder's had reached Tom where he stood a little

aside, his solemn countenance radiating disapproval of the tumultuous

folly around him. He took three strides towards the earl.

'Wherein lieth the new jest?' he asked, with dignity.

'A set of country louts, my lord,' answered the earl, 'are at the gate,

affirming the right of search in this your lordship's house of Raglan.'

'For what?'

'Arms, my lord.'

'And wherefore? On what ground?'

'On the ground that your lordship is a vile recusant--a papist, and

therefore a traitor, no doubt, although they use not the word,' said the

earl.

'I shall be round with them,' said Tom, embracing the assumed

proportions in front of him, and turning to the door.

Ere the earl had time to conceive his intent, he had hurried from the

hall, followed by fresh shouts of laughter. For he had forgotten to

stuff himself behind, and, when the company caught sight of his back as

he strode out, the tenuity of the foundation for such a 'huge hill of

flesh' was absurd as Falstaff's ha'p'orth of bread to the 'intolerable

deal of sack.'

But the next moment the earl had caught the intended joke, and although

a trifle concerned about the affair, was of too mirth-loving a nature to

interfere with Tom's project, the result of which would doubtless be

highly satisfactory--at least to those not primarily concerned. He

instantly called for silence, and explained to the assembly what he

believed to be Tom Fool's intent, and as there was nothing to be seen

from the hall, the windows of which were at a great height from the

floor, and Tom's scheme would be fatally imperilled by the visible

presence of spectators, from some at least of whom gravity of demeanour

could not be expected, gave hasty instructions to several of his sons

and daughters to disperse the company to upper windows having a view of

one or the other court, for no one could tell where the fool's humour

might find its principal arena. The next moment, in the plain dress of

rough brownish cloth, which he always wore except upon state occasions,

he followed the fool to the gate, where he found him talking through the

wicket-grating to the rustics, who, having passed drawbridge and

portcullises, of which neither the former had been raised nor the latter

lowered for many years, now stood on the other side of the gate

demanding admittance. In the parley, Tom Fool was imitating his master's

voice and every one of the peculiarities of his speech to perfection,

addressing them with extreme courtesy, as if he took them for gentlemen

of no ordinary consideration,--a point in his conception of his part

which he never forgot throughout the whole business. To the dismay of

his master he was even more than admitting, almost boasting, that there

was an enormous quantity of weapons in the castle--sufficient at least

to arm ten thousand horsemen!--a prodigious statement, for, at the

uttermost, there was not more than the tenth part of that amount--still

a somewhat larger provision no doubt than the intruders had expected to

find! The pseudo-earl went on to say that the armoury consisted of one

strong room only, the door of which was so cunningly concealed and

secured that no one but himself knew where it was, or if found could

open it. But such he said was his respect to the will of the most august

parliament, that he would himself conduct them to the said armoury, and

deliver over upon the spot into their safe custody the whole mass of

weapons to carry away with them. And thereupon he proceeded to open the

gate.

By this time the door of the neighbouring guard-room was crowded with

the heads of eager listeners, but the presence of the earl kept them

quiet, and at a sign from him they drew back ere the men entered. The

earl himself took a position where he would be covered by the opening

wicket.

Tom received them into bodily presence with the notification that,

having suspected their object, he had sent all his people out of the

way, in order to avoid the least danger of a broil. Bowing to them with

the utmost politeness as they entered, he requested them to step forward

into the court while he closed the wicket behind them, but took the

opportunity of whispering to one of the men just inside the door of the

guardhouse, who, the moment Tom had led the rustics away, approached the

earl, and told him what he had said.

'What can the rascal mean?' said the earl to himself; but he told the

man to carry the fool's message exactly as he had received it, and

quietly followed Tom and his companions, some of whom, conceiving fresh

importance from the overstrained politeness with which they had been

received, were now attempting a transformation of their usual loundering

gait into a martial stride, with the result of a foolish strut, very

unlike the dignified progress of the sham earl, whose weak back roused

in them no suspicion, and who had taken care they should not see his

face. Across the paved court, and through the hall to the inner court,

Tom led them, and the earl followed.

The twilight was falling. The hall was empty of life, and filled with a

sombre dusk, echoing to every step as they passed through it. They did

not see the flash of eyes and glimmer of smiles from the minstrel's

gallery, and the solitude, size, and gloom had, even on their dull

natures, a palpable influence. The whole castle seemed deserted as they

followed the false earl across the second court--with the true one

stealing after them like a knave--little imagining that bright eyes were

watching them from the curtains of every window like stars from the

clear spaces and cloudy edges of heaven. To the north-west corner of the

court he led them, and through a sculptured doorway up the straight wide

ascent of stone called the grand staircase. At the top he turned to the

right, along a dim corridor, from which he entered a suite of bedrooms

and dressing-rooms, over whose black floors he led the trampling

hob-nailed shoes without pity either for their polish or the labour of

the housemaids in restoring it.

In this way he reached the stair in the bell-tower, ascending which he

brought them into a narrow dark passage ending again in a downward

stair, at the foot of which they found themselves in the long

picture-gallery, having entered it in the recess of one of its large

windows. At the other end of the gallery he crossed into the

dining-room, then through an ante-chamber entered the drawing-room,

where the ladies, apprised of their approach, kept still behind curtains

and high chairs, until they had passed through, on their way to cross

the archway of the main entrance, and through the library gain the

region of household economy and cookery. Thither I will not drag my

reader after them. Indeed the earl, who had been dogging them like a

Fate, ever emerging on their track but never beheld, had already began

to pay his part of the penalty of the joke in fatigue, for he was not

only unwieldy in person, but far from robust, being very subject to

gout. He owed his good spirits to a noble nature, and not to animal

well-being. When they crossed from the picture-gallery to the

dining-room, he went down the stair between, and into the oak-parlour

adjoining the great hall. There he threw himself into an easy chair

which always stood for him in the great bay window, looking over the

moat to the huge keep of the castle, and commanding through its western

light the stone bridge which crossed it. There he lay back at his ease,

and, instructed by the message Tom had committed to the serjeant of the

guard, waited the result.

As for his double, he went stalking on in front of his victims, never

turning to show his face; he knew they would follow, were it but for the

fear of being left alone. Close behind him they kept, scarce daring to

whisper from growing awe of the vast place. The fumes of the beer had by

this time evaporated, and the heavy obscurity which pervaded the whole

building enhanced their growing apprehensions. On and on the fool led

them, up and down, going and returning, but ever in new tracks, for the

marvellous old place was interminably burrowed with connecting passages

and communications of every sort--some of them the merest ducts which

had to be all but crept through, and which would have certainly arrested

the progress of the earl had he followed so far: no one about the place

understood its "crenkles" so well as Tom. For the greater part of an

hour he led them thus, until, having been on their legs the whole day,

they were thoroughly wearied as well as awe-struck. At length, in a

gloomy chamber, where one could not see the face of another, the

pseudo-earl turned full upon them, and said in his most solemn tones:--

'Arrived thus far, my masters, it is borne in upon me with rebuke, that

before undertaking to guide you to the armoury, I should have acquainted

you with the strange fact that at times I am myself unable to find the

place of which we are in search; and I begin to fear it is so now, and

that we are at this moment the sport of a certain member of my family of

whom it may be your worships have heard things not more strange than

true. Against his machinations I am powerless. All that is left us is to

go to him and entreat him to unsay his spells.'

A confused murmur of objections arose.

'Then your worships will remain here while I go to the Yellow Tower, and

come to you again?' said the mock earl, making as if he would leave

them.

But they crowded round him with earnest refusals to be abandoned; for in

their very souls they felt the fact that they were upon enchanted

ground--and in the dark.

'Then follow me,' he said, and conducted them into the open air of the

inner court, almost opposite the archway in its buildings leading to the

stone bridge, whose gothic structure bestrid the moat of the keep.

For Raglan Castle had this peculiarity, that its keep was surrounded by

a moat of its own, separating it from the rest of the castle, so that,

save by bridge, no one within any more than without the walls could

reach it. On to the bridge Tom led the way, followed by his dupes--now

full in the view of the earl where he sat in his parlour window. When

they had reached the centre of it, however, and glancing up at the awful

bulk of stone towering above them, its walls strangely dented and

furrowed, so as to such as they, might well suggest frightful means to

wicked ends, they stood stock-still, refusing to go a step further;

while their chief speaker, Upstill, emboldened by anger, fear, and the

meek behaviour of the supposed earl, broke out in a torrent of

arrogance, wherein his intention was to brandish the terrors of the High

Parliament over the heads of his lordship of Worcester and all

recusants. He had not got far, however, before a shrill whistle pierced

the air, and the next instant arose a chaos of horrible, appalling, and

harrowing noises, 'such a roaring,' in the words of their own report of

the matter to the reverend master Flowerdew, 'as if the mouth of hell

had been wide open, and all the devils conjured up'--doubtless they

meant by the arts of the wizard whose dwelling was that same tower of

fearful fame before which they now stood. The skin-contracting chill of

terror uplifted their hair. The mystery that enveloped the origin of the

sounds gave them an unearthliness which froze the very fountains of

their life, and rendered them incapable even of motion. They stared at

each other with a ghastly observance, which descried no comfort, only

like images of horror. 'Man's hand is not able to taste' how long they

might have thus stood, nor 'his tongue to conceive' what the

consequences might have been, had not a more healthy terror presently

supervened. Across the tumult of sounds, like a fiercer flash through

the flames of a furnace, shot a hideous, long-drawn yell, and the same

instant came a man running at full speed through the archway from the

court, casting terror-stricken glances behind him, and shouting with a

voice half-choked to a shriek--

'Look to yourselves, my masters; the lions are got loose!'

All the world knew that ever since King James had set the fashion by

taking so much pleasure in the lions at the Tower, strange beasts had

been kept in the castle of Raglan.

The new terror broke the spell of the old, and the parliamentary

commissioners fled. But which was the way from the castle? Which the

path to the lions' den? In an agony of horrible dread, they rushed

hither and thither about the court, where now the white horse, as steady

as marble, should be when first they crossed it, was, to their excited

vision, prancing wildly about the great basin from whose charmed circle

he could not break, foaming, at the mouth, and casting huge water-jets

from his nostrils into the perturbed air; while from the surface of the

moat a great column of water shot up nearly as high as the citadel,

whose return into the moat was like a tempest, and with all the

elemental tumult was mingled the howling of wild beasts. The doors of

the hall and the gates to the bowling green being shut, the poor

wretches could not find their way out of the court, but ran from door to

door like madmen, only to find all closed against them. From every

window around the court--from the apartments of the waiting gentlewomen,

from the picture-gallery, from the officers' rooms, eager and merry eyes

looked down on the spot, themselves unseen and unsuspected, for all

voices were hushed, and for anything the bumpkins heard or saw they

might have been in a place deserted of men, and possessed only by evil

spirits, whose pranks were now tormenting them. At last Upstill, who had

fallen on the bridge at his first start, and had ever since been rushing

about with a limp and a leap alternated, managed to open the door of the

hall, and its eastern door having been left open, shot across and into

the outer court, where he made for the gate, followed at varied distance

by the rest of the routed commissioners of search, as each had

discovered the way his forerunner fled. With trembling hands Upstill

raised the latch of the wicket, and to his delight found it unlocked. He

darted through, passed the twin portcullises, and was presently

thundering over the drawbridge, which, trembling under his heavy steps,

seemed on the point of rising to heave him back into the jaws of the

lion, or, worse still, the clutches of the enchanter. Not one looked

behind him, not even when, having passed through the white stone gate,

also purposely left open for their escape, and rattled down the

multitude of steps that told how deep was the moat they had just

crossed, where the last of them nearly broke his neck by rolling almost

from top to bottom, they reached the outermost, the brick gate, and so

left the awful region of enchantment and feline fury commingled. Not

until the castle was out of sight, and their leader had sunk senseless

on the turf by the roadside, did they dare a backward look. The moment

he came to himself they started again for home, at what poor speed they

could make, and reached the Crown and Mitre in sad plight, where,

however, they found some compensation in the pleasure of setting forth

their adventures--with the heroic manner in which, although vanquished

by the irresistible force of enchantment, they had yet brought off their

forces without the loss of a single man. Their story spread over the

country, enlarged and embellished at every fresh stage in its progress.

When the tale reached mother Rees, it filled her with fresh awe of the

great magician, the renowned lord Herbert. She little thought the whole

affair was a jest of her own son's. Firmly believing in all kinds of

magic and witchcraft, but as innocent of conscious dealing with the

powers of ill as the whitest-winged angel betwixt earth's garret and

heaven's threshold, she owed her evil repute amongst her neighbours to a

rare therapeutic faculty, accompanied by a keen sympathetic instinct,

which greatly sharpened her powers of observation in the quest after

what was amiss; while her touch was so delicate, so informed with

present mind, and came therefore into such rapport with any living

organism, the secret of whose suffering it sought to discover, that

sprained muscles, dislocated joints, and broken bones seemed at its soft

approach to re-arrange their disturbed parts, and yield to the power of

her composing will as to a re-ordering harmony. Add to this, that she

understood more of the virtues of some herbs than any doctor in the

parish, which, in the condition of general practice at the time, is not

perhaps to say much, and that she firmly believed in the might of

certain charms, and occasionally used them--and I have given reason

enough why, while regarded by all with disapprobation--she should be by

many both courted and feared. For her own part she had a leaning to the

puritans, chiefly from respect to the memory of a good-hearted, weak,

but intellectually gifted, and, therefore, admired husband; but the

ridicule of her yet more gifted son had a good deal shaken this

predilection, so that she now spent what powers of discrimination and

choice she possessed solely upon persons, heedless of principles in

themselves, and regarding them only in their vital results. Hence, it

was a matter of absolute indifference to her which of the parties now

dividing the country was in the right, or which should lose, which win,

provided no personal evil befel the men or women for whom she cherished

a preference. Like many another, she was hardly aware of the

jurisdiction of conscience, save in respect of immediate personal

relations.

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