JOHN DE LANCASTER.
VOLUME III.
JOHN DE LANCASTER.
A NOVEL.
BY
_RICHARD CUMBERLAND, ESQ._
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
_LONDON_:
PRINTED FOR LACKINGTON, ALLEN, AND CO.
TEMPLE OF THE MUSES,
FINSBURY-SQUARE.
1809.
Harding and Wright, Printers, St. John’s Square.
JOHN DE LANCASTER.
BOOK THE FIRST.
CHAPTER I.
_The Arrival of the Party from Glen Morgan at Kray Castle._
In the morning of the day after that, in which the miserable remains of
old Ap Rees’s hapless daughter were interred, the whole party under
orders of march for Kray Castle took their leave of Glen Morgan; the
Wilsons, father and son, with Amelia and Mrs. Jennings, in the coach,
and John, as usual, on his favourite horse; the equipage of Mr. De
Lancaster, properly attended, having arrived the day before.
An apartment, commanding a very beautiful prospect, had been made ready
for Amelia, by the order and under the inspection of the presiding lady
of the castle, who with the taste and elegance natural to her had fitted
it with every thing, that could be devised for the use, ornament or
amusement of the fair visitor, who was destined to take possession of
it. In a very handsome dressing-room adjoining to the bed-chamber, and
communicating by a flight of steps with a flower-garden in high
cultivation, Cecilia had provided a selection of well-chosen books, nor
was music overlooked in the catalogue of accommodations there collected
and displayed. A young woman, daughter of an old domestic, and perfectly
qualified to wait upon the person of a lady, was instructed to consider
herself as specially and exclusively attached to the service of Miss
Jones.
When the turret-bell gave the signal of an arrival, the servants of the
castle arranged themselves in the hall, nor was the harp silent upon the
entrance of our hero, conducting the fair stranger through their
respectful files to the saloon, where Cecilia received them. After they
had reposed themselves for a few minutes Mr. De Lancaster entered, and
with a gracious smile made his cordial salutations to each in turn,
reserving his embrace for John, last, but not least in his favour.
When I see my family circle, he said, thus recruited by the return of my
former inmates, and graced with the accession of my new ones, I
experience a pleasurable conviction, that so long as Providence shall
indulge me with a capacity to enjoy these blessings, I should be, and I
am, devoutly thankful, although one member of our community has been
lately lost, and in the instance of the other, who is absent, I am
totally disappointed and defeated of all hope. To you, John De
Lancaster, my grandson, in whom I glory, I render thanks for the honour
you have conferred upon my name and family by your noble conduct in the
melancholy case of old Ap Rees’s daughter; and I am particularly
pleased, that your generous feelings for the injured did not betray you
into angry and intemperate personalities against the worthless wretch,
whom Heaven, not you, must call to his account. In his melancholy fate
we see an instance of the impolicy as well as the impiety of setting all
regard to character at defiance. The evil spirit hath not so
established his authority upon earth, that men will risque to be the
friends of him, who dares to be the foe of virtue. Innocence will not be
violated, nor justice braved and insulted with impunity. Where is there
one amongst all the favourites of fortune, to whom more happy
opportunities and brighter hopes of prosperity have been vouchsafed,
than to that young man, who is now become the object of our aversion and
contempt? What might he not have been? Alas, what is he now?
I should be at a loss, said the elder Wilson, to answer that question,
because I could not find words in the language to express his crimes:
but murder of the blackest cast is amongst them, so that methinks is one
item, which has a pretty good right to cry out in the catalogue. Were I
on his court-martial, I would hang him without mercy, and I think I
could almost find in my heart to be present at his execution.
Not you, not you, said Cecilia in an under-tone, and laid her gentle and
reproving hand upon his shoulder.
She is right, resumed De Lancaster; she knows you better than you know
yourself. I am persuaded you are no otherwise a friend to punishment but
as it tends to reformation; that is not the property of hanging. The
poor Irish criminal, who before he was turned off ingenuously declared
it should be a warning to him in future, materially mistook his own
case. Excision is no cure: I much doubt, if that dreadful process ought
to be resorted to in any instance.
Surely not, the colonel observed, except to save the body’s health:
with that view I myself submitted to the amputation of a limb.
Secure the community, De Lancaster rejoined, against further danger from
the obnoxious member, and let no man’s extinguishing decree deprive his
guilty fellow creature of a chance for repentance and atonement. Here,
if I mistake not, we may let the question rest, and relieve the ladies
present from a painful disquisition.
Upon John’s enquiring of his aunt, if she had any news of his father,
she informed him she had received a large pacquet, which was not
producible except in private; and in truth it was a journal, which not
only on account of its prolixity, but of its absurdity also, requires a
separate and exclusive chapter.