In the year 1599, the Place Royal at Paris was a new and fashionable
part of the world; but nevertheless, one of the best houses, forming
an angle with the street which led down from the Rue St. Antoine, had
been taken by an Italian speculator, to be let out in apartments as a
sort of inn, or, as it would now be called, hotel, though the more
modest title of auberge was all that it then assumed. Next door to
this house, was the hotel of the English ambassador, Sir Henry
Neville; and before the porte cochère of each of the two houses was
assembled a little knot of four or five persons: in the one instance
composed of servants gazing vacantly out into the Place; and in the
other, of the master of the house, some of his waiters, and the Earl
of Gowrie, with the servant whom he had taken with him from the gates.
The young earl and the host, with whom he had just arranged for the
reception of his party, were looking up the street, and waiting for
the arrival of the carriage, when suddenly they saw it approaching at
a much more rapid pace than they expected, and a tumultuous assemblage
of several persons following, while Austin Jute, at a quick trot, rode
on before. The moment he arrived in the square, he sprang from his
horse, and throwing the rein loose, approached his master, saying, in
English, "I am sorry to tell you, my lord, that a young man has just
thought fit to insult the Lady Julia, so I ran him through the body;
and now they are following with a guard to catch me. I had therefore
better be off, and find your lordship out afterwards."
He spoke rapidly, without any of his usual proverbs; but his young
lord replied, "Stay, stay, Austin; if you are not in fault, I will
protect you."
"I could not help myself, sir," replied the man. "He thrust his head
into the carriage. I boxed his ears. He drew his sword; and I defended
myself. There are plenty who can prove it."
"Let him come in here," said one of the English ambassador's servants,
who had been listening. "If he's an Englishman, here's the proper
place for him. This is the embassy."
"Run in there, Austin," said the young earl. "Tell your story to Sir
Henry Neville, if he be within, and say that I will see him in a few
minutes. Let him know that you are a subject of her Majesty the queen,
and he will give you protection."
"Come along, come along! there is no time to stand talking," cried the
English servant; and, hurrying after him, Austin Jute ran under the
porte cochère, and the gates were closed just as the carriage drove
into the Place, and stopped at the door of the inn. The servants who
had remained with the vehicle were four in number; and they had
without difficulty contrived to cover Austin Jute's retreat, by riding
between the wheels of the carriage and the houses of the narrow
street, though pressed upon by two mounted gentlemen, who followed
them with drawn swords and menacing words. The moment the carriage
entered the Place, however, the horsemen who were pursuing dashed
round the vehicle and the servants, and just caught sight of the
closing gates of the English embassy. At the same time, coming down
the street, as fast as they could run, were five or six of the town
guard, with large unwieldy halbards on their shoulders, which, of
course, greatly impeded their advance.
"Did he go in there?" shouted one of the horsemen, as soon as he saw
Austin's riderless horse in the Place, and the gates of the English
embassy closed.
The words were addressed to no one in particular; but he looked
straight to the Earl of Gowrie as he spoke. The young nobleman took no
notice of him, however, but calmly handed Julia out of the vehicle,
saying, "Go straight in with Mr. Rhind, dear one. Everything is ready
for you;" and then, seeing that she was very pale, he added, "Do not
be alarmed. There is no danger. Austin has taken refuge at the English
ambassador's.--Go in with the lady, and show her the apartments, sir,"
he said, speaking to the landlord. "I will follow immediately."
"But, my dear lord," said Mr. Rhind, who had by this time got out of
the carriage----
"Go in, go in," said Gowrie, interrupting him, as he saw the two
horsemen coming up towards them, and the guard entering the Place. "Go
in, my dear sir, and do not leave her till I come. Now, gentlemen," he
continued, turning to the strangers, as soon as he saw that Julia was
safe in the hotel, "you seem to have business with me."
"Sacre bleu!" cried one of the others; "does that carriage belong to
you, sir?"
"It does," replied Lord Gowrie, quite calmly.
"Well, then, one of your companions has just killed a gentleman, our
friend," rejoined the stranger, furiously; "and we will have vengeance
upon him."
"I understand," replied Gowrie, in the same unmoved tone, "that one of
my servants--seeing a person, whom I will not honour by calling him a
gentleman, insult a lady--punished him as he deserved, and then, in
his own defence, ran him through the body. Is this the case or not?"
"Your servant!" exclaimed the Frenchman, without giving a direct
answer, but mixing a few very indecent expletives with his speech;
"was it a coquin of a servant who ventured to draw his sword upon a
gentleman?"
"It is impossible to know a gentleman but by his actions," replied the
young earl; "and whether he were gentle or simple, my servant would
certainly punish any one who insulted a lady under his protection,
well knowing, sir, that I would justify him and support him either
with my sword or with my means; and let me add more, that whoever or
whatsoever you may be, I shall look upon those who take part with him
who committed the insult, as having shared in it, and treat them
accordingly."
The Frenchman to whom he spoke instantly sprang to the ground; and
perhaps more serious results would have ensued, had not the guard with
their halbards come up, and thrust themselves between the earl and his
opponent, both of whom had their hands upon their swords.
"Where is he? where is he?" was the cry; and the officer of the guard
seemed much inclined to lay hands upon Gowrie himself, not having a
very correct notion of the personal appearance of him he was to
apprehend.
"You are mistaken, my good sir," said Lord Gowrie; "the person you are
in search of apparently, has taken refuge at the house of the English
ambassador, being a subject of that crown. At present, I am but
scantily informed of what has occurred. Is the person he fought with
dead, and who is he?"
"He is not dead, but he will die certainly," said the officer; and the
Frenchman, who had dismounted, as I have stated, finished the reply by
saying, "He is a Scotch lord, who has been brought up with us at this
university, the Seigneur de Ramsay."
"I know no Scottish lord of that name," said the earl.
"We must have the homicide out, however," observed the officer of the
guard; and approaching the gate of the embassy, he knocked hard for
admission.
It was common, in all large Parisian houses at that period, to have a
small iron grating inserted in the great gates, at the height of a
man's head, through which, in times of danger, letters or messages
might be received by those within, without opening the doors. This, at
the English embassy, was covered in the inside with a thick shutter of
wood, which, on the loud knocking of the officer of the guard, was
withdrawn, showing the face of a burly porter behind the grate.
"What do you want?" demanded the porter.
"I want the body of a man who has taken refuge here after committing
homicide," replied the officer.
"You can't have him, either body or soul, unless his excellency gives
him up," answered the porter, gruffly.
There is in every man's mind, I believe, a store of the comic, which,
though often battened down under strange and little-penetrable
hatches, is sometimes arrived at, even in a very obdurate bosom, by
the simplest of all possible processes. The Earl of Gowrie was in no
very jesting mood. He was vexed at the scrape his servant had got
into; and he was vexed to think that the life of a human being had
been endangered, if not lost. He was vexed, moreover, then, that
Julia--his Julia, should have been insulted by any one on her first
entrance into the French capital. But yet the braggadocio tone of the
French cavalier had somewhat amused him; and the reply of the sturdy
English porter, delivered in very indifferent French, almost made him
laugh, notwithstanding the seriousness of the subject. He had
approached close to the gate with the officer, who, for the moment,
seemed completely rebuffed by the reply; and knowing well that the
matter could not end there, Gowrie interposed, to procure a more just
and reasonable arrangement. He did not choose to use the English
language, lest any suspicion should be excited in the minds of the
Frenchmen around; but speaking French almost as well as he did his
native language, he said, "Be kind enough, my good friend, to tell Sir
Henry Neville that the Earl of Gowrie is at his gate, and would fain
speak with him; but as French gentlemen are very apt to take their own
prepossessions for realities, and to suspect, whenever they are in the
wrong themselves, that others are in fault, it will be better, if he
does me the honour of admitting me, that he should admit this officer
of the prevot, and also this gentleman, who styles himself the friend
of the wounded man."
"I demand that the culprit should be delivered up," said the cavalier,
fiercely. "The privileges of no ambassador can shelter a murderer; and
as to prepossessions, we all know that you Englishmen are the natural
enemies of France, and that you have never aided any party in this
country but for the purpose of promoting dissensions, and thereby
nullify the efforts of Frenchmen for the honour and glory of their
native land."
"His majesty, your king, might well be grateful to you for the
observation, sir," replied the earl; "and my opinion of a Frenchman's
prejudices is not altered thereby; but as my proposal is a fair one, I
am quite willing to abide by it if it suits you. If not, I shall
demand entrance for myself alone, which I think will not be refused
me, as a distant relative of the ambassador's sovereign."
The latter words of the earl's reply had no slight effect upon the
officer of the guard, who thenceforth addressed the young earl as
"monseigneur," and took pains to explain to him that he was only
acting in the strict line of duty. The two French cavaliers stood
apart, consulting between themselves, till the porter returned, after
carrying Gowrie's message to Sir Henry Neville.
"I am to permit three to enter," he said; "but while I do so, the rest
must stand back to at least thirty paces from the gate, that I may
open the wicket in safety."
The guard, and Gowrie's men, who had crowded round, were ordered to
withdraw to the prescribed distance; and the command having been
obeyed with no great alacrity, a small wicket in the gate was opened,
through which Gowrie passed at once, taking precedence of the others
as his right, from a knowledge that it is always dangerous to yield a
single step to a Frenchman, who is certain never to consider it as a
courtesy, but to look upon it as an acknowledgment of his superiority.
The officer of the guard followed; and then came the stranger, looking
back for a moment to some half-dozen idlers who had gathered round,
with a strong inclination to call upon them to assert the honour of
France, whether impugned or not impugned. Although Gowrie saw the
glance, and easily comprehended what was passing in the worthy
gentleman's bosom, his mind was put perfectly at ease by the array
which he saw drawn up in the court-yard of the embassy. Those days
were not as these, when powdered lacqueys, in the gold and silver lace
which their masters will not condescend to wear, with two or three
attaches and a few clerks hired on the spot, are the only guards of a
diplomatist accredited by one court to another. Men went prepared for
any contingency, and buckler and broadsword were as common in the
suite of an ambassador as paper and pen and ink. Full forty men, well
armed and stout in limb, were drawn up in the court of the embassy,
while the secretary of the envoy himself waited at the foot of the
stairs, on the left hand, ready to conduct the earl and his companions
to the minister's cabinet. To the Earl of Gowrie he was particularly
deferential and attentive, while to the French cavalier who followed,
and whom he addressed as Monsieur de Malzais, he was coldly polite.
After passing through two or three handsome saloons, the whole party
was ushered into a small room surrounded with book-shelves; and a
tall, elegant, dignified looking man rose up from a table to receive
them, laying down a book which he had been reading, with the most
perfect appearance of tranquillity and ease. His eye instantly rested
on the Earl of Gowrie, being in truth well acquainted with the persons
of the two others, and advancing towards him, he took his hand, and
welcomed him to Paris with many expressions of esteem and regard.
"I have had a letter from his majesty, the King of France," he said,
"informing me of your lordship's approaching arrival; and I only
regretted that I did not know how I might serve you in anticipation of
your coming, so that all might be prepared for you. Pray, my lord, be
seated;" and placing a chair for him, he remained standing till the
earl had taken his seat.
We can hardly bring our minds in the present day to believe that all
this ceremonious respect, this ostentatious display of reverence for a
fellow man, could have any effect upon the view which reasonable
beings would take of a simple question of justice. But there was very
little of the old Roman left in the sixteenth century. When men sold
their loyalty and compounded for their treason, it was not to be
supposed that justice was unmarketable. Cromwell, with all his faults
and all his crimes, was the first who thoroughly purified the seat of
justice, and taught the world that, in one country at least, neither
rank nor wealth, nor even long conceded privilege, could prove a
shield against the sword of justice. The immunities claimed by and
granted to ambassadors were then enormous, and the influence of high
rank often amounted to elevation above the law. The officer of the
guard, though a man sensible of his duties and willing to perform
them, was not less subject than others to the general feelings of the
age and country in which he lived; and Monsieur de Malzais, though
resolute even to obstinacy and bold to rashness, was habitually
impressed with the reverence thus thought due to high station; and
though they had both entered the room with a determination to require
that Austin Jute should be at once given up to justice, the honours
shown to his master by the ambassador of the haughtiest queen in
Europe, rendered their demand very moderate in tone, and not very
persevering in character.
To the surprise of both, however, Gowrie himself pressed for immediate
investigation. He had been brought up in a sterner school, in which
that spirit prevailed which afterwards shone forth with so strong a
light in the higher and purer of the puritan party in England.
"I do not request your excellency," he said, after the officer of the
guard had stated his object, and Monsieur de Malzais had preferred his
charge, "to throw your protection over my servant, unless a clear case
of justification can be made out in his favour; and then only so far
as to shield him from long imprisonment and perhaps suffering, till it
is ascertained whether the gentleman he has wounded lives or dies. I
doubt not that the laws of the land will do justice between man and
man, though the one be a mere servant and the other a person moving in
a more elevated station of life, and I shall myself stay to see that
it is so. But, in the first instance, as your own countryman and as my
servant, I think you have every right to inquire whether he did, as he
says, injure this gentleman in his own defence or not."
"I shall certainly do so," replied Sir Henry Neville; "for I should
not be fulfilling my duty to my sovereign, were I to suffer one of her
subjects to undergo unnecessary imprisonment for an act which he was
compelled to perform. I shall deal with the case, my lord, exactly as
if it were that of one of my own servants. If I find he has been
guilty of a crime, I shall give him up at once to justice; if I find
he has not, I shall protect him against all and every one, as far as
my privileges extend. To this neither you yourself nor these gentlemen
can object."
Whatever might be their abstract notions of the sovereignty of the
law, neither of the Frenchmen did venture to object, and Austin Jute
was called into the presence of the ambassador, and told his story in
his own words, which were translated by the secretary for the benefit
of those who did not understand the English tongue.
"We were riding along quietly enough, your excellency," he said, "much
more like sheep that have got into a strange fold than anything else,
when three gentlemen, of whom that was one," and he pointed to
Monsieur de Malzais, "rode up and passed the carriage. We made way for
them to go by, for they say, 'when you meet a fool in an alley, give
him the wall;' but then they said something amongst themselves and
laughed, and one of them wheeled his horse with a demivolte, and poked
his head in at the carriage window, holding back the curtain. As it
must have been done on purpose, unless he and his horse were both
taken giddy, which was not likely, for it is rare for two animals to
be seized with dizziness at the same time, I reminded him of the way
he ought to go by a knock on the side of the head. He did not like
that sort of direction, and jumping off his beast, or tumbling off, as
the case may be, he drew his sword and poked at me in a way that would
have made the daylight shine through me if I had not slipped off on
the other side. An open enemy is better than a false friend; and now I
knew what I was about. A cat in a corner is a lion; so having no means
of escape, I drew cold iron too, and we both poked away at each other
till he got a wound and fell. Thereupon, thinking to make my heels
save my head, I got on my beast again and came hither."
"Did this gentleman here present, or any of the others, attempt to
part you and your opponent?" asked Sir Harry Neville.
"No," answered Austin Jute; "that gentleman called out, 'Well lunged,
Ramsay,' or some such name--'punish the dog.' I know French enough to
understand that."
"Well, sir, what do you say to this?" asked Sir Harry Neville, turning
to Monsieur de Malzais. "If the man's story is true, it would seem
that the provocation came on the side of your friend; that he was
justly punished for insulting a lady, and that then he drove this good
man to defend himself."
"But his story is not true," replied the Frenchman, in a somewhat
hesitating tone; "the Seigneur de Ramsay did not insult the lady. He
only looked into the carriage, as any gentleman might do."
"That's a lie!" said Austin Jute, who had a very tolerable knowledge
of the French tongue. "He looked into the carriage as no gentleman
would do, and pulled back the curtain with his hand. There were plenty
of people to prove it. Ask Mr. Rhind, and the other servants."
A part of this reply only was translated to Monsieur de Malzais, who
was answering warmly; but Gowrie interposed, saying, "I will send for
Mr. Rhind, who was in the carriage, and also for some of the servants.
I have spoken with none of them myself. This man has had time to speak
with none of them either, and therefore their account will be
unbiassed."
The persons whom he mentioned were speedily brought to the embassy,
and fully and clearly confirmed the account of Austin Jute. Mr. Rhind
testified that the curtain of the carriage had been rudely and
insolently drawn back, and the head of a stranger thrust into the
vehicle; and the servants proved that the wounded man had drawn his
sword, and made a thrust at their companion, before Austin Jute had
even unsheathed his weapon. That first lunge, they said, would most
probably have proved fatal, had not Austin dexterously slipped from
his horse, and so avoided it.
While they proceeded in giving their evidence, the secretary
translated their replies almost literally; and although the French
gentleman did not actually look ashamed, yet he seemed very much
puzzled how to meet their testimony. He had recourse, however, to a
means not uncommon with persons in his predicament, declaring there
was evidently a conspiracy to shield the offender, which called a
smile upon the lips of Sir Henry Neville, who replied, in a quiet
tone, "You have had so many conspiracies in France lately, Monsieur de
Malzais, that you fancy almost every transaction is of the same
nature. It seems to me, and I doubt not also to the officer of the
guard, that no time has elapsed sufficient for these people to make
themselves perfect in exactly the same account of the whole
transaction. It will therefore be my duty to protect this poor man,
who seems to have done nothing but what he was bound to do in defence
of his lady and of his own life. My house must therefore be his place
of refuge, from which he shall not be taken except by violence, which,
I presume, nobody will think of attempting."
"Assuredly not, your excellency," replied the officer of the guard;
"my view of the case is the same as your own; but neither you nor I
are judges in this land; and I only consent to abstain from any
farther proceedings against this person, till it is ascertained
whether the gentleman he has wounded lives or dies. Should the latter
event occur, I must apply to higher authorities for directions as to
my future conduct."
"That as you please, sir," replied the ambassador; "but be assured,
that under no circumstances will I give him up, unless I have express
directions so to do."
"And in the meantime he will of course escape," said Monsieur de
Malzais.
The ambassador made no reply, but rose and turned upon his heel with a
look of some contempt; and the French gentleman, with the officer of
the guard, retired.
"Now, Master Austin Jute," said Sir Henry Neville, "you may depend
upon my protection so long as you keep yourself within the limits of
this house, its courts, and garden; but if you venture out upon any
pretext, you are very likely to get into the little Chatellet, in
which case you might find yourself some day stretched out considerably
beyond your usual length, upon an instrument called the rack, and
perhaps might never be heard of afterwards; for there are often
curious things done in this country in the name of justice. Be warned,
therefore, and do not go abroad."
"Don't be afraid, sir," answered Austin Jute; "I will never stretch my
feet beyond the length of my sheet. I know when to let well alone.
When the waters are out, it is better to be on the top of a hill than
in the bottom of a valley. If the maid had kept the pitcher in her
hand, it would not have got broken; so, with many thanks, I will
follow your advice to the letter."
With these quaint saws the good youth withdrew, accompanied by the
rest of the Earl of Gowrie's servants, who had been summoned to give
evidence; and as soon as they were gone, Sir Henry Neville said, with
a smile, "I trust this young man will not die, my lord, for it might
occasion us some trouble, although his character is well known here in
Paris."
"Who is he?" demanded Lord Gowrie. "There are so many Ramsays in
Scotland, that it is impossible to distinguish one from another,
unless one knows the name of the estate belonging to the person."
"I do not believe he has any estate to distinguish him," replied the
ambassador; "but he is a cousin of Sir George Ramsay of Dalhousie,
whose brother John is page to your own sovereign, King James. This
young man, proving of an unruly disposition, and likely to bring
disgrace upon himself and his very honourable family, was sent hither
by Sir George, one of the finest and highest-minded men I know, to
study at the university here. He has rendered himself, however, more
famous for rashness, violence, and insolence, than for learning or
talent; and I believe the reports of his conduct which have reached
Scotland have given great pain to his elder cousin, though the younger
still remains much attached to him, and has promised, they say, to use
his influence at the court of the king for this young man's
advancement. But now, my good lord, by your leave I will accompany you
to pay my respects to your fair lady. I was not, indeed, aware that
your lordship was married."
The colour somewhat mounted into Gowrie's cheek; but he replied, "Nor
am I, Sir Henry. The lady whom I have the honour of escorting back to
Scotland,--her grandfather, with whom she resided, having very lately
died in Italy--is my cousin, the Lady Julia Douglas."
Perhaps the slight shade of embarrassment apparent in the earl's
manner, in making this announcement, might excite the ambassador's
curiosity; but he was too good a diplomatist to suffer any trace of
what was passing in his mind to appear in his demeanour, and repeating
his wish to be presented to the lady, he accompanied Gowrie to the
inn. By this time all trace of the little disturbance which had
occurred had vanished from the Place Royale; and gay groups of
Parisians were beginning to assemble there, to walk up and down, and
converse, make love, or observe each other, as was customary during
the evening of each fine day. After being introduced to Julia, with
whose exceeding beauty he seemed greatly struck, the ambassador
proceeded to discuss with Gowrie that nobleman's plans. He advised him
strongly to remain in Paris till the result of Ramsay's wound was
known, adding, in a low voice, for the young earl's own ear, "I can
almost forgive Ramsay's attempt to get another sight of a face and
form like that, when once he had seen them."
"I shall not forgive him so easily," answered the earl; "for no lady
under my care and escort shall be insulted with impunity."
"I beseech you, let the matter drop, my good lord," replied Neville;
"if the young man dies, there is an end of it; if he recovers, he has
surely been punished enough."
"He shall apologise, however," said the earl, in a thoughtful tone;
"though I am not disposed to be harsh with him. Perhaps, indeed," he
continued, "he may have received a lesson from the hand of my servant
which may do him good. I know Sir George Ramsay well, at least I did
so in my boyhood; and if there be one drop of his blood in this young
man's veins, there must be some good qualities at bottom."
"Let us trust that the bad blood has been let out," said the
ambassador, "and that the good remains behind, and that he may recover
to make a better use of life than he has hitherto done. I will send in
a short time to inquire how he is going on, and will let you know the
answer I receive. In the meantime I take my leave, and will do my best
to provide for your amusement during your sojourn in Paris."