Beside a little arm of the sea, and surrounded by lofty mountains,
stood the cottage of Lord Glengariff. It was originally built as a mere
fishing-lodge, a resting-place in the bathing-season, or a spot to
visit when it was the pleasure of its owners to affect retirement and
seclusion. Then would the Earl and his Countess and the Ladies Julia and
Jemima come down to the Hermitage with a sort of self-approving humility
that seemed to say, “Even _we_ know how to chastise pride, and vanity,
and the sinful lusts of the flesh.” Whether it was that these seasons of
mortification became more frequent, or that they required more space,
we cannot say; but, in course of time, the hermitage extended its limbs,
first in one direction, and then in another, till at length it grew
to be a very commodious house, with ample rooms and every imaginable
comfort, Owing to the character of the architecture, too, it gained in
picturesque effect by these successive additions; and in its jutting
projections, its deep-shadowed courts, and its irregular line of roof,
it presented a very pleasing specimen of that half-Elizabethan cottage
so rarely hit upon in any regular plan. As the fortunes of the noble
house declined,--the Earl's ancestors had been amongst the most
extravagant of Irish gentry,--the ancient castle of Holt-Glengariff,
where they had long resided, was sold, and the family settled down to
live at the Hermitage. At first the change was supposed to be merely
temporary,--“they were going to live in London or in Brighton; they
were about to establish themselves in Paris; her Ladyship was ordered to
Italy,”--a variety of rumors, in fact, were afloat to explain that the
sunshine of their presence in that lonely glen would be but brief and
short-lived. All the alterations that might be made in the cottage or
its grounds, all the facilities of approach by land and water, all the
beneficial changes in the village itself, were alluded to as projects
for the day when they would come back there; for my Lord said he
“really liked the place,”--a species of avowal that was accepted by the
neighborhood as the proudest encomium man could pronounce upon their
“happy valley.”
With all these plans and intentions, it was now eighteen years, and
the Earl had never quitted the Hermitage for any longer journey than
an occasional trip to Dublin. The Countess had taken a longer road
than that over the Alps, and lay at rest in the village churchyard. The
Ladies Georgina, Arabella, and Julia had married off, and none remained
but Lady Augusta Arden, of whom we have already made brief mention to
our readers in a former chapter.
We did but scant justice to Lady Augusta when we said that she had once
been handsome: she was so still. She had fine eyes and fine teeth; a
profusion of brown hair of the very silkiest; her figure was singularly
graceful; and, baring a degree of haughtiness,--a family trait,--her
manner was unexceptionably good and pleasing. Both the Earl and his
daughter had lived too long amongst those greatly inferior to them
in rank and fortune not to conceive a very exaggerated estimate of
themselves.
No Pasha was ever more absolute than my Lord in the little village
beside him; his will was a sort of firman that none dreamed of
disputing; and, indeed, the place men occupied in the esteem of their
fellows there, was little else than a reflex of how they were regarded
at the Hermitage. We never scruple to bestow a sort of derisive pity
upon the savage who, having carved his deity out of a piece of wood,
sits down to worship him; and yet, what an unconscious imitation of the
red man is all our adulation of great folks! We follow him to the very
letter, not only in investing the object of our worship with a hundred
qualities that he has not, but we make him the butt of our evil
passions, and in the day of our anger and disappointment we turn round
and rend him! Not that the villagers ever treated my Lord in this
wise,--they were still in the stage “of worship;” they had been at
“their offices,” fathers and grandfathers, for many a year, and though
some were beginning to complain that their knees were getting sore, none
dreamed of getting on their legs! The fact was, that even they who liked
the religion least thought it was not worth while abjuring the faith of
their fathers, especially when they could not guess what was to replace
it; and so my Lord dictated and decided and pronounced for the
whole neighborhood; and Lady Augusta doctored and model-schooled and
loan-funded them to her heart's content. Nay, we are wrong! It was all
in the disappointed dreariness of an unsatisfied heart that she took to
benevolence! Oh, dear! what a sorry search is that after motives, if one
only knew how much philanthropy and active charity have come of a
breach of promise to marry! Not that Lady Augusta had ever stood in this
position, but either that she had looked too high, or was too hard to
please, or from some other cause, but she never married.
The man who has no taste for horsemanship consoles himself for the
unenjoyed pleasure by reading of the fractured ribs and smashed
collar-bones of the hunting-field. Was it in something of this spirit
that Lady Augusta took an especial delight in dwelling in her mind and
in her letters on all the disagreeables of her sisters' wedded life? The
extravagance of men, their selfishness, their uncomplying habits, the
odious tyranny of their tempers, were favorite themes with her, dashed
with allusions to every connubial contingency, from alimony to the
measles in the nursery! At last, possibly because, by such frequent
recurrence to the same subjects, she had no longer anything new to say
on them, or perhaps--it is just possible--that the themes themselves had
less interest for others than for herself, her sisters seemed to reply
less regularly than of old. Their answers were shorter and drier; and
they appeared neither to care so much for sympathy and condolence as
formerly; and, in fact, as Lady Augusta said to herself, “They were
growing inured to ill-treatment!” And if half of us in this world only
knew of the miseries we are daily suffering, and which sympathetic
friends are crying over, what a deal of delightful affliction might we
enjoy that we now are dead to! What oppressive governments do we live
under, what cruel taskmasters, what ungrateful publics, not to speak of
the more touching sorrows of domestic life,--the undervaluing parents
and unsympathizing wives! Well, one thing is a comfort: there are dear
kind hearts in mourning over all these for us, anxiously looking for the
day we may awaken to a sense of our own misery!
It was of a cheery spring morning, sunlit and breezy, when, in the
chirping songs of birds, the rustling leaves, and fast-flowing rivulets,
Nature seems to enjoy a more intense vitality, that the Earl sat at
breakfast with his daughter. A fairer prospect could hardly be seen than
that which lay before the open windows in front of them. The green lawn,
dotted with clumps of ancient trees, inclined with many a waving slope
to the sea, which in a long narrow arm pierced its way between two
jutting headlands,--the one bold, rocky, and precipitous; the other
grass-covered and flowery, reflecting its rich tints in the glassy water
beneath. The sea was, indeed, calm and still as any lake, and, save
when a low, surging sound arose within some rocky cavern, as silent and
noiseless. The cattle browsed down to the very water's edge, and the
nets of the fishermen hung to dry over the red-berried foliage of
the arbutus. They who looked--when they did, perchance, look on this
scene--gazed with almost apathy on it. Their eyes never brightened as
the changing sunlight cast new effects upon the scene. Nor was this
indifference the result of any unconsciousness of its beauty. A few
months back it was the theme of all their praises. Landscape-painters
and photographers were invited specially to catch its first morning
tints, its last mellow glow at sunset. The old Lord said it was finer
than Sorrento, equal to anything in Greece. If the Mediterranean
were bluer, where was there such emerald verdure,--where such blended
coloring of heaths, purple and blue and violet,--in what land did the
fragrance of the white thorn so load the warm atmosphere? Such, and such
like, were the encomiums they were wont to utter; and wherefore was
it that they uttered them no more? The explanation is a brief one. A
commission, or a deputation, or a something as important, had come down
to examine Bantry Bay, and investigate its fitness to become a packet
station for America. In the course of this examination, a scientific
member of the body had strayed down to Glengariff, where, being of
a speculative as well as of a scientific turn, he was struck by its
immense capabilities. What a gem it was, and what might it not be made!
It was Ireland in the tropics,--“the Green Isle” in the Indian Ocean!
Only imagine such a spot converted into a watering-place! With a lodge
for the Queen on that slope sheltered by the ilex-copse, crescents, and
casinos, and yacht stations, and ornamental villas rose on every side
by his descriptive powers, and the old Earl--for he was dining with
him--saw at one glance how he had suddenly become a benefactor of
mankind and a millionnaire. “That little angle of the shore yonder, my
Lord,--the space between the pointed rock and the stone-pine trees,--is
worth fifty thousand pounds; the crescent that would stand there would
leave many an untenanted house at Kemp Town. I 'll engage myself to get
you a thousand guineas for that small bit of tableland to the right; the
Duke of Uxmore is only waiting to hit upon such a spot. Here, too, where
we sit, must be the hydropathic establishment. You can't help it, my
Lord, you must comply. This park will bring you in a princely revenue.
It is gold,--actual gold,--every foot of it! There 's not a Swiss
cottage in these woods won't pay cent per cent!”
Mr. Galbraith--such was his name--was of that pictorially gifted
order of which the celebrated George Robins was once chief. He knew how
to dress his descriptions with the double attraction of the picturesque
and the profitable, so that trees seemed to bend under golden fruit, and
the sea-washed rocks looked like “nuggets.”
If there be something very seductive in the prospect of growing
immensely rich all at once, there is a terrible compensation in the
utter indifference inflicted on us as to all our accustomed pleasures in
life. The fate of Midas seems at once our own; there is nothing left to
us but that one heavy and shining metal of all created blessedness! Lord
Glengariff was wont to enjoy the lonely spot he lived in with an intense
appreciation of its beauty. He never wearied of watching the changing
effects of season on a scene so full of charm; but now he surveyed it
with a sense of fidgety impatience, eager for the time when the sounds
of bustle and business should replace the stillness that now reigned
around him.
“This is from Dunn,” said he, breaking open a large, heavy-sealed letter
which had just arrived. His eyes ran hastily along it, and he exclaimed
peevishly, “No prospectus yet; no plan issued; nothing whatever
announced. 'I have seen Galbraith, and had some conversation with him
about your harbor.' My harbor!”
“Go on,” said Lady Augusta, mildly.
“Why, the insolent upstart has not even listened to what was said to
him. My harbor! He takes it for granted that we were wanting to make
this a packet station for America, and he goes on to say that the place
has none of the requisite qualifications,--no depth of water! I wish the
fellow were at the bottom of it! Really, this is intolerable. Here is
a long lecture to me not to be misled by those 'speculation-mongers who
are amongst the rife products of our age.' I ask you, if you ever heard
of impertinence like that? This fellow--the arch-charlatan of his day,
the quack _par excellence_ of his nation--dares to warn _me_ against the
perils of his class and kindred! Only listen to this, Gusty,” cried he,
bursting into a fit of half-angry laughter: “'I am disposed to think
that, by drawing closer to the present party in power, you could serve
your interests much more effectively than by embarking in any schemes
of mere material benefit. Allington'--he actually calls him
Allington!--'dropped hints to this effect in a confidential conversation
we held last evening together, and I am in hopes that, when we meet, you
will enter into our views.' Are the coronets of the nobility to be put
up to sale like the acres of the squirearchy? or what is it this fellow
is driving at?” cried he, flinging down the letter in a rage, and
walking up and down the room. “The rule of O'Connell and his followers
was mild and gentle and forbearing, compared with the sway of these
fellows. In the one case we had a fair stand-up fight,--opinion met
opinion, and the struggle was an open one; but here we have an organized
association to investigate the state of our resources, to pry into our
private affairs, learning what pressure bears upon us here, what weak
spot gives way there. They hold our creditors in leash, to slip them on
us at any moment; and the threat of a confiscation--for it is just that,
and nothing less--is unceasingly hanging over us!”
He stopped short in his torrent of passion, for the white sail of a
small fishing-craft that just showed in the offing suddenly diverted his
thoughts to that vision of prosperity he so lately revelled in,--that
pleasant dream of a thriving watering-place, bright, sunny, and
prosperous, the shore dotted with gayly caparisoned donkeys, and the sea
speckled with pleasure-boats. All the elements of that gay Elysium came
up before him,--the full tide of fortune setting strongly in, and
coming to his feet. Galbraith, who revelled in millions, whose rapid
calculations rarely descended to ignoble thousands, had constantly
impressed upon him that if Dunn only took it up, the project was already
accomplished. “He'll start you a company, my Lord, in a week; a splendid
prospectus and an admirable set of names on the direction, with a
paid-up capital, to begin with, of--say £30,000. He knows to a nicety
how many Stock Exchange fellows, how many M.P.'s, how many county
gentlemen to have. He 'll stick all the plums in the right place too;
and he'll have the shares quoted at a premium before the scrip is well
out in the market. Clever fellow, my Lord,--vastly clever fellow, Dunn!”
And so the Earl thought, too, till the letter now before him dashed that
impression with disappointment.
“I 'll tell you what it is, Gusty,” said he, after a pause,--“we must
ask him down here. It is only by an actual inspection of the bay that he
can form any just conception of the place. You must write to him for me.
This gouty knuckle of mine makes penwork impossible. You can say--Just
find a sheet of paper, and I 'll tell you what to say.” Now, the noble
Earl was not as ready at dictation as he had fancied; for when Lady
Augusta had opened her writing-desk, arranged her writing-materials, and
sat, pen in hand, awaiting his suggestions, he was still pacing up and
down the room, muttering to himself in broken and unconnected phrases,
quite unsuited to the easy flow of composition. “I suppose, Gusty,--I
take it for granted,--you must begin, 'My dear sir,'--eh?--or, perhaps,
better still, 'Dear Mr. Dunn.'”
“'Dear Mr. Dunn,'” said she, not looking up from the paper, but quietly
retouching the last letters with her pen.
“But I don't see why, after all, we should follow this foolish lead,”
said he, proudly. “The acceptance he meets from others need not dictate
to us, Gusty. I 'd say, 'The Earl of Glengariff'--or, 'I am requested by
Lord Glen-gariff--'”
“'My father, Lord Glengariff,'” interposed she, quietly.
“It sounds more civilly, perhaps. Be it so;” and again he walked up
and down, in the same hard conflict of composition. At length he burst
forth: “There 's nothing on earth more difficult than addressing a man
of this sort. You want his intimacy without familiarity. You wish to
be able to obtain the benefit of his advice, and yet not incur the
infliction of his dictation. In fact, you are perfectly prepared to
treat him as a valued guest, provided he never lapses into the delusion
that he is your friend. Now, it would take old Metternich to write the
sort of note I mean.”
“If I apprehend you, your wish is to ask him down here on a visit of
a few days, with the intimation that you have a matter of business to
communicate--”
“Yes, yes,” said he, impatiently, “that's very true. The business part
of the matter should come in incidentally, and yet the tone of the
invitation be such as to let him distinctly understand that he does not
come without an express object Now you have my meaning, Gusty,” said he,
with the triumphant air of one who had just surmounted a difficulty.
“If I have, then, I am as far as ever from knowing how to convey it,”
said she, half peevishly. “I'd simply say, 'Dear Sir,' or, 'Dear Mr.
Dunn,--There is a question of great moment to myself, on which your
advice and counsel would be most valuable to me. If you could spare
me the few days a visit would cost you, and while giving us the great
pleasure of your society--'”
“Too flattering, by half. No, no,” broke he in again. “I 'll tell you
what would be the effect of all that, Gusty,”--and his voice swelled out
full and forcibly,--“the fellow would come here, and, before a week was
over, he 'd call me Glengariff!”
She grew crimson over face and forehead and neck, and then almost as
quickly pale again; and, rising hastily from the table, said, “Really,
you expect too much from my subtlety as a note-writer. I think I
'd better request Mr. Dunn to look out for one of those invaluable
creatures they call companions, who pay your bills, correct your French
notes, comb the lapdog, and scold your maid for you. _She_ might be,
perhaps, equal to all this nice diplomacy.”
“Not a bad notion, by any means, Gusty,” said he, quickly. “A clever
woman would be inestimable for all the correspondence we are like to
have soon; far better than a man,--less obtrusive, more confidential,
not so open to jobbery; a great point,--a very great point. Dunn's the
very man, too, to find out the sort of person we want.”
“Something more than governess, and less than lady,” said she, half
superciliously.
“The very thing, Gusty,--the very thing. Why, there are women with
breeding enough to be maids of honor, and learning sufficient for a
professor, whose expectations never rise beyond a paltry hundred a
year--what am I saying?--sixty or seventy are nearer the mark. Now for
it, Gusty. Make this object the substance of your letter. You can
have no difficulty in describing what will suit us. We live in
times, unfortunately, when people of birth and station are reduced
to straitened circumstances on every hand. It reminds me of what poor
Hammersley used to say,--'Do you observe,' said he, 'that whenever
there's a great smash on the turf, you 'll always see the coaches horsed
with thoroughbreds for the next year or two!'”
“A very unfeeling remark, if it mean anything at all.” “Never mind.
Write this letter, and say at the foot of it, 'We should be much pleased
if, in your journeys 's out'--he's always coming down to Cork and the
neighborhood--you could give us a few days at Glengariff Hermitage. My
father has certain communications to make to you, which he is confident
would exempt your visit from the reproach of mere idleness.' He'll take
that; the fellow is always flattered when you seem impressed by the
immensity of his avocations!” And with a hearty chuckle at the weakness
he was triumphing over, the old Lord left the room, while his daughter
proceeded to compose her letter.