_His Grace’s Rival_
ARUNDEL DACRE was the only child of Mr. Dacre’s only and deceased
brother, and the heir to the whole of the Dacre property. His father,
a man of violent passions, had married early in life, against the
approbation of his family, and had revolted from the Catholic communion.
The elder brother, however mortified by this great deed, which passion
had prompted, and not conscience, had exerted his best offices to
mollify their exasperated father, and to reconcile the sire to the son.
But he had exerted them ineffectually; and, as is not unusual, found,
after much harrowing anxiety and deep suffering, that he was not even
recompensed for his exertions and his sympathy by the gratitude of his
brother. The younger Dacre was not one of those minds whose rashness and
impetuosity are counterbalanced, or rather compensated, by a generous
candour and an amiable remorse. He was headstrong, but he was obstinate:
he was ardent, but he was sullen: he was unwary, but he was suspicious.
Everyone who opposed him was his enemy: all who combined for his
preservation were conspirators. His father, whose feelings he had
outraged and never attempted to soothe, was a tyrant; his brother, who
was devoted to his interests, was a traitor.
These were his living and his dying thoughts. While he existed, he was
one of those men who, because they have been imprudent, think themselves
unfortunate, and mistake their diseased mind for an implacable destiny.
When he died, his deathbed was consoled by the reflection that his
persecutors might at last feel some compunction; and he quitted the
world without a pang, because he flattered himself that his departure
would cost them one.
His father, who died before him, had left him no fortune, and even had
not provided for his wife or child. His brother made another ineffectual
attempt to accomplish a reconciliation; but his proffers of love and
fortune were alike scorned and himself insulted, and Arundel Dacre
seemed to gloat on the idea that he was an outcast and a beggar.
Yet even this strange being had his warm feelings. He adored his wife,
particularly because his father had disowned her. He had a friend whom
he idolised, and who, treating his occasional conduct as a species
of insanity, had never deserted him. This friend had been his college
companion, and, in the odd chapter of circumstances, had become a
powerful political character. Dacre was a man of talent, and his friend
took care that he should have an opportunity of displaying it. He was
brought into Parliament, and animated by the desire, as he thought, of
triumphing over his family, he exerted himself with success. But his
infernal temper spoiled all. His active quarrels and his noisy brawls
were even more endurable than his sullen suspicions, his dark hints, and
his silent hate. He was always offended and always offending. Such a
man could never succeed as a politician, a character who, of all others,
must learn to endure, to forget, and to forgive. He was soon universally
shunned; but his first friend was faithful, though bitterly tried, and
Dacre retired from public life on a pension.
His wife had died, and during the latter years of his life almost his
only companion was his son. He concentrated on this being all that
ardent affection which, had he diffused among his fellow-creatures,
might have ensured his happiness and his prosperity. Yet even sometimes
he would look in his child’s face with an anxious air, as if he read
incubating treason, and then press him to his bosom with unusual
fervour, as if he would stifle the idea, which alone was madness.
This child was educated in an hereditary hate of the Dacre family. His
uncle was daily painted as a tyrant, whom he classed in his young mind
with Phalaris or Dionysius. There was nothing that he felt keener than
his father’s wrongs, and nothing which he believed more certain than his
uncle’s wickedness. He arrived at his thirteenth year when his father
died, and he was to be consigned to the care of that uncle.
Arundel Dacre had left his son as a legacy to his friend; but that
friend was a man of the world; and when the elder brother not only
expressed his willingness to maintain the orphan, but even his desire to
educate and adopt him as his son, he cheerfully resigned all his claims
to the forlorn boy, and felt that, by consigning him to his uncle, he
had most religiously discharged the trust of his confiding friend.
The nephew arrived at Castle Dacre with a heart equally divided between
misery and hatred. It seemed to him that a fate more forlorn than
his had seldom been awarded to mortal. Although he found his uncle
diametrically opposite to all that his misled imagination had painted
him, although he was treated with a kindness and indulgence which tried
to compensate for their too long estranged affections, Arundel Dacre
could never conquer the impressions of his boyhood; and had it not been
for his cousin, May, a creature of whom he had not heard, and of whom no
distorted image had therefore haunted his disturbed imagination; had it
not been for this beautiful girl, who greeted him with affection which
warmed and won his heart, so morbid were his feelings, that he would
in all probability have pined away under the roof which he should have
looked upon as his own.
His departure for Eton was a relief. As he grew up, although his
knowledge of life and man had long taught him the fallacy of his early
feelings, and although he now yielded a tear of pity, rather than of
indignation, to the adored manes of his father, his peculiar temper and
his first education never allowed him entirely to emancipate himself
from his hereditary feelings. His character was combined of many and
even of contrary qualities.
His talents were great, but his want of confidence made them more
doubtful to himself than to the world; yet, at times, in his solitary
musings, he perhaps even exaggerated his powers. He was proud, and yet
worldly. He never forgot that he was a Dacre; but he desired to be the
architect of his own fortune; and his very love of independence made
him, at an early period, meditate on the means of managing mankind. He
was reserved and cold, for his imagination required much; yet he panted
for a confidant and was one of those youths with whom friendship is a
passion. To conclude, he was a Protestant among Catholics; and although
this circumstance, inasmuch as it assisted him in the views which he
had early indulged, was not an ungracious one, he felt that, till he
was distinguished, it had lessened his consideration, since he could
not count upon the sympathy of hereditary connections and ancient party.
Altogether, he was one who, with the consciousness of ancient blood, the
certainty of future fortune, fine talents, great accomplishments, and
not slight personal advantages, was unhappy. Yet, although not of a
sanguine temper, and occasionally delivered to the darkest spleen, his
intense ambition sustained him, and he lived on the hope, and sometimes
on the conviction, that a bright era would, some day, console him for
the bitterness of his past and present life.
At school and at college he equally distinguished himself, and was
everywhere respected and often regarded; yet he had never found that
friend on whom his fancy had often busied itself, and which one whose
alternations of feeling were so violent peremptorily required. His
uncle and himself viewed each other with mutual respect and regard, but
confidence did not exist between them. Mr. Dacre, in spite of his long
and constant efforts, despaired of raising in the breast of his nephew
the flame of filial love; and had it not been for his daughter, who was
the only person in the world to whom Arundel ever opened his mind, and
who could, consequently, throw some light upon his wants and wishes,
it would not have been in his power to evince to his nephew that this
disappointment had not affected his uncle’s feelings in his favour.
When his education was completed, Mr. Dacre had wished him to take up
his residence in Yorkshire, and, in every sense, to act as his son, as
he was his successor. But Arundel declined this proposition. He obtained
from his father’s old political connection the appointment of _attaché_
to a foreign embassy, and he remained on the Continent, with the
exception of a yearly visit to Yorkshire, three or four years. But his
views were not in the diplomatic line, and this appointment only served
as a political school until he could enter Parliament. May Dacre had
wormed from him his secret, and worked with energy in his cause. An
opportunity appeared to offer itself, and, under the patronage of a
Catholic nobleman, he was to appear as a candidate for an open borough.
It was on this business that he had returned to England.