It is God's indulgence which gives me the space, but man's cruelty
that gives me the sad occasion for these thoughts.--_Eikon Basiliké._
The greater part of the night which succeeded the Earl of Nithsdale's
interview with his wife, was spent by him in restlessly measuring with
hasty strides the mean apartment to which he was confined.
In the morning he obtained permission to refresh himself by walking
on the leads over the warders' lodgings, an indulgence occasionally
granted to the prisoners.
The fresher air, all chilly as it was, and loaded with London smoke,
revived him; and as he paced the narrow limits, his eye turned
involuntarily towards the vessels which crowded the river up to
London Bridge. As he watched, he saw one who sesails were beginning
to be unfurled, while all was bustle, hurry, and confusion on board:
she was getting under weigh, and he sighed to think how impossible to
be surmounted were the obstacles which interposed between him and the
vessel which seemed so near.
His eye dropped, and rested on the Traitor's Gate, and he almost
thought he once more heard the jarring sound of the iron bolts and bars
which had closed behind him.
As his eye passed on, it was arrested by the Bloody Tower, which, as
some say, was the spot in which the tragic murder of the young princes
was enacted. "They knew not the pains of life," he thought, "neither
knew they its joys! They knew not that mutual affection which so
painfully yet so sweetly attaches one to existence! But there," and he
looked upon the stone which marks the place where Lord Guildford Dudley
and Lady Jane Grey were executed,--"there did two pure creatures, bound
to each other by every holy tie of faith and love, yield up their
innocent spirits. They who had scarcely tasted of happiness,--the cup
was snatched from their lips ere they could fully know its sweetness!
They would have esteemed themselves most blessed, could they have been
assured of as many years of mutual affection, of wedded bliss, as I
have already enjoyed. Alas for ye, innocent victims of the ambition of
others! when I remember you, I must not repine! And there, again!" as
his thoughts followed the objects on which his eye dwelt,--"that was
the prison of the unfortunate Anne Boleyn,--wounded in her affections,
in her honour,--pampered with flattery, surrounded with pomp, enervated
by splendour, only to be the more cruelly and suddenly plunged into
the depths of misery and disgrace. No! no! I must not repine!"--and he
again schooled his mind to resignation and submission. "I have neither
met with falsehood nor with ingratitude! my honour is not impeached! I
must not, will not, repine!"
Lady Nithsdale meanwhile was not inactive. She visited the Countesses
of Derwentwater and Wintoun; and they agreed that, should the sentence
not prove favourable, they would together present a petition to
parliament, and in the intervening space of time that each should exert
her private influence with those in power, to win as many as possible
to their interest.
She visited her husband's cousin, the Duchess of Buccleugh, and
obtained the duke's promise to present a petition should the necessity
occur; and having taken every measure that prudence could dictate, she
had but to await in tremulous anxiety the sentence which was to be
pronounced on the 9th of February.
She frequently contrived to see her lord, though she was always obliged
to do so by stealth. These visits, although so ardently desired by
both, were to both hours of bitter anguish.
The Earl of Nithsdale, fully aware of the feeling which prevailed
against him, anticipated but too justly the sentence which would be
pronounced, and could not bring himself to echo the hopeful sentiments
with which his wife buoyed up her spirits; neither had he the heart
fully to express to her his own more gloomy apprehensions.
He listened to the details of all she had done, and all she projected,
with a gentle, hopeless gratitude, which saddened and dispirited her;
although she could not, she would not, adopt his view of the subject.
This produced a certain reserve. She felt he restrained his own
feelings for her sake, that he smothered the anticipations of which
she could not endure to hear the utterance; and the open communion
of thought was at an end! She dared not allude to the future, his
countenance so plainly expressed there was no future for him; and they
both shrunk from a recurrence to the joys of that dear home which
neither hoped again to inhabit.
To a third person it would often have appeared strange that, under such
circumstances, a wedded pair, so devotedly attached, should be able to
dwell at such length upon the public affairs of the day, and to discuss
with so much interest the movements in Scotland.
But the earl could not be indifferent as to what befel the prince to
whom he had sacrificed himself; while Lady Nithsdale, on the contrary,
since her interview with the Chevalier, in which her feelings had
been so little gratified, had looked on him as the unworthy object
for which her happiness had been wrecked. As her sorrows pressed more
heavily upon her, she felt more and more that he had seemed careless
of the sufferings of others. As her fears increased, and as her hopes
diminished, she more and more resented the cold inquiry after "the
health of the earl her husband;" and the behaviour, which at the time
had only seemed measured and unsatisfactory, assumed, as she dwelt upon
it, the character of selfish hardness.
Alas! the keen edge of sensibility must have been blunted long ere
this in the heart of the unfortunate Chevalier de St. George! Inured
to misfortune, he appears to have been stupified by it. With the
resolution already taken to evacuate Perth, three days after that
appointed for the general thanksgiving, did the infatuated prince carry
on the pageant of royalty.
The address then offered up--"O Lord, who hast preserved and brought
back our dread sovereign King James safely into his own dominions, to
the comfort of all those who, in obedience to thy holy word, 'fear
God and honour the king'"--could to none present have appeared a more
sickening mockery than to the dispirited, despairing descendant of a
hundred kings.
Surrounded by a scanty train of heart-broken attendants, in the midst
of those very counsellors who had declared the absolute necessity of
abandoning the only town of importance which they yet held,--the very
spot where they were assembled in prayer and thanksgiving,--did he
listen to the words, "Bow the hearts of all his subjects as one man, so
that they may only contend who shall be the first to bring the king to
his own house."
When, upon the approach of the Duke of Argyle, a vague rumour arose,
that it was purposed to retire before the enemy without striking a
blow, the indignation of the Highlanders knew no bounds. The love of
fighting, inherent in that hardy race, had caused them to look forward
with joy and alacrity to the desperate conflict which they imagined to
be approaching.
But when they found that the unwelcome report was only too true grief
and disappointment turned all to rage, and they assailed their officers
as they passed in the streets with every species of reproach.
"What can we do?" was the answer of one who was supposed to be
intimately acquainted with the counsels of the Earl of Mar.
"Do!" replied the Highlander. "Let us do that for which we were called
in arms, which certainly was not to run away."
Nor was the retreat carried into effect without meeting with strenuous
and vehement opposition, even in the council of the Chevalier;
although, after much violence of discussion, at length it was agreed by
the majority, that to attempt the defence of Perth would be an act of
desperate chivalry.
To appease the feelings of those who appeared most irritated, it was
given out that a halt was to take place at Aberdeen, where supplies of
foreign troops were expected.
It was on the 30th of January, the anniversary of his grandfather's
martyrdom, that the Chevalier's Highland army filed off upon the ice,
which, as the Earl of Mar had anticipated, rendered the Tay, if of no
avail as a protection, no impediment to the movement which he even then
projected.
The town was immediately occupied by a body of the Duke of Argyle's
dragoons. The Chevalier arrived at the sea-port town of Montrose, from
whence it was his intention to make his escape by sea. To mask his
design of thus relinquishing his ill-concerted attempt, and abandoning
the faithful few who still adhered to him, his equipage and horses
were brought out before the gate of his lodgings, and his guards were
mounted as if to proceed on the journey to Aberdeen.
But before the hour appointed for the march, James had secretly gained
the shore, and, accompanied by the Earl of Mar, had safely reached a
small vessel which had been prepared for their reception. Thus did
he for the second time abandon the shores of that land over which so
many of his ancestors had reigned, and in which so many of them had
given proofs of personal prowess and manly courage. As some of his
cotemporaries have observed, the only purpose accomplished by this
expedition seems to have been that of bringing off in safety his
general, the Earl of Mar.
On General Gordon devolved the unwelcome and difficult task of leading
to Aberdeen the remains of the Highland army, who were only restrained
from acts of insubordination by knowing that the Duke of Argyle's
forces hung upon their rear. At Aberdeen a sealed letter, which
had been entrusted to General Gordon, was opened according to the
Chevalier's instructions. In this, after expressing his thanks for the
faithful services of his adherents, he gave them full permission to
treat with the enemy, or to disperse to their several homes, as might
best suit the exigency of the moment.
Thus ended the rebellion, which proved so fatal to many of the noblest
houses both of England and Scotland! And the Countess of Nithsdale felt
almost relieved when each day brought intelligence of the hopeless
condition of the insurgents; for she judged, not unwisely, that the
less cause there remained to fear them, the less need would there exist
of intimidating them by measures of severity.
The 9th of February, on which day the lords were to receive their
sentence in Westminster Hall, was fast approaching. On the 8th, Lady
Nithsdale passed some hours with her husband. The hopes to which she
had so long and so pertinaciously clung had gradually given way before
the cold and constrained demeanour with which all her inquiries and
intercessions had been met. Evasive answers, professions of inability
to be of service to her under the present circumstances, declarations
that they must not flatter her, were all the satisfaction she could
procure from those who might be supposed to know the probable decision
of the court.
The earl, always hopeless, looked upon the worn and anxious countenance
of his wife, till every feeling for himself was lost in commiseration
for her wretchedness: "It will be better for you, my love, when it is
all over."
"What mean you?" she replied quickly, wilfully misapprehending his
meaning, which it would have been too painful to comprehend, and
vaguely trusting that he would not dare to explain his thoughts more
clearly.
"I only mean, this state of suspense, dearest Winifred, has almost worn
you out. I shall be glad when the morrow is past, for any certainty is
preferable to suspense; though," he added in a lower tone, "I cannot
say it is suspense that I feel."
"Spare me, spare me!" she said; "to-morrow is soon enough! But there is
hope!--There must be hope! Man is not a wild beast that he should find
pleasure in destruction! When self-preservation no longer impels to
cruelty, human sympathies will again influence the heart. James's hasty
retreat must set their fears at rest. I must--I will hope!"
"Against all reason, dearest!" he added, with a smile, taking her
cold passive hand in his. "My Winifred's firm and well-ordered mind
has always hitherto been the stay and the support of mine: it has
been from her gentle lips that I have learned true piety and real
submission; from her that I have learned, or tried to learn, to bend
my will to the decrees of Providence! Her support will not now, in my
utmost need, be withdrawn from me! she will not make my task more hard!
neither will she say or do aught that shall unsettle my mind, or render
me unfit for what is to be done to-morrow. She would not have her
husband appear in Westminster Hall before his assembled peers, before
the court, and before the people of England, with excited feelings and
nerves unstrung! And trust me, when I gaze on you, it is no easy task
to face death with composure, and to brace my mind to hear unmoved the
sentence which awaits me to-morrow. The love of life, of life with
you, is only too strong within this bosom. Speak not to me of hope! I
must not admit the notion; but speak to me of that heaven where we may
be re-united! Tell me that by unrepining submission I may best make
myself worthy of once more meeting you, my love; tell me that life is
short, and that we have already enjoyed many years of happiness; that
we have already mounted the hill, that we must soon descend it; that
probably we have known the best years of our existence; that before us
may be a future of sickness, sorrow, suffering,--the death of friends!
the loss of children!" He paused; then overcome with pity, he added,
in a broken voice, "Alas, alas! and shall your gentleness be left to
meet these sorrows alone? to buffet with fortune alone? Oh, my poor,
poor Winifred! pardon me for having indulged in such sad anticipations;
pardon me for having pictured sorrows which can only be alleviated
by being shared! for sickness would not to me be suffering if tended
by you! grief would lose half its sting if you were near to whisper
consolation; and who but the beloved of one's heart can administer
comfort under the other deprivations to which I so cruelly alluded?
Alas for you, my poor, poor Winifred!"
And the composure which he had so striven to preserve completely gave
way when he thus painted to himself the desolation of her whom he
should leave behind. He pressed the hand he still held to his lips; and
the tears which he could no longer restrain, fell fast upon it.
"Hush, hush! not another word," she said; "I will speak neither words
of hope nor fear! my own noble lord shall bear himself in the sight
of his fellows as it is fitting he should. No weakness of mine shall
enervate that manly mind; though my heart-strings crack, I will be
composed and firm. And now we will part for the night; we will each
to our prisons: prayer and solitude will best strengthen us for the
morrow. Should your anticipations prove only too correct, there is yet
much to be done, and I will seek confidence and calmness from that
Heaven who will, I trust, take thee this night, and ever, into its holy
keeping!"
"Amen to thy good wishes, love!"
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
VOLUME THE SECOND.
WINIFRED, COUNTESS OF NITHSDALE.
(CONTINUED.)