_Char._ What!--Away, away, for shame!--You, profane rogues,
Must not be mingled with these holy relicks:
This is a sacrifice;--_our_ shower shall crown
His sepulchre with olive, myrrh, and bays,
The plants of peace, of sorrow, victory:
_Your_ tears would spring but weeds.
1 _Cred._ Would they so?
We'll keep them to stop bottles then.
_Rom._ No: keep them for your own low sins, you rogues,
Till you repent: you'll die else and be damn'd.
2 _Cred._ Damn'd!--ha! ha! ha!
_Rom._ Laugh ye?
2 _Cred._ Yes, faith, Sir: we would be very glad
To please you either way.
1 _Cred._ You're ne'er content,
Crying nor laughing.
_Massinger and Field_, _Fatal Dowry._--Act II. Sc. 1.
The next morning was fine and promising, the frost still continuing;
and Bertram, if he had otherwise been likely to forget his engagement,
would have been reminded of it by the silence of the inn and the early
absence of all the strangers; most of whom, there was reason to
suspect, had gone off with the view of witnessing or taking part in the
funeral honors of Captain le Harnois. This however was a conjecture
which Bertram owed rather to his own sagacity than to any information
won from the landlord, who seemed to make it a point of his duty to
profess entire ignorance of the motions of all whom he harboured in his
house; and, with respect to the funeral in particular, for some reason
chose to treat it as a mysterious affair not publicly to be talked of.
Taking the direction of Aberkilvie, Bertram pursued a slanting course
to the sea--but so as to command a view of the first reach of the
valley through which the funeral was to pass; his purpose being to drop
down into the procession, from the hills which he was now traversing,
at any convenient spot which the circumstances of the ground might
point out. At length, on looking down from the summit of a hill, he
descried the funeral train: the head of the column had apparently been
in motion for some time, and was now winding through the rocky defiles
into the long narrow strath which lay below him; but such was the
extent of the train that the rear had but just cleared the sea-shore.
It was a solemn and impressive spectacle to look down from such a
height upon the sable and inaudible procession stealing along and
meandering upon the narrow ribbon-like paths that skirted the base of
the mountains. The mourners were naturally a silent train even when
viewed from a nearer station: but from Bertram's aerial position the
very horses and carriages seemed shod with felt. So far as he could
make out the objects from the elevation at which he stood, the
procession opened with a large hearse--by the side of which walked
four stout marines as mourners. Close behind the hearse followed
about a dozen post-chaises; and, by the side of each, walked a couple
of sailors armed with cutlasses. Immediately in the rear of the
post-chaises followed those who claimed relationship to the deceased;
amongst whom Bertram fancied that he could distinguish plumes of
feathers--and occasionally, as the inequalities of the ground threw the
files into a looser array, a motley assemblage of colors and a
glittering of arms.
From this leisurely view however of the procession, as in the character
of an indifferent spectator, Bertram now gradually dropped down the
hill in order to take his station in it as an active participator in
its labors. The speed and direction of his course proclaimed his
purpose: and, although the majority of the train walked with their
heads bent to the ground, there were many who saw him; and all with one
accord called aloud to him, before he took his place in the train, to
cut himself a knotty cudgel. This symbol of fraternity Bertram had
wholly forgotten to provide; and, observing that in feet all the
mourners carried one, he hesitated not to cut a stout bough out of the
first thorn bush he happened to see. This however chanced to be so
large--knotty--and clublike, that Bertram could not forbear secretly
comparing his own appearance with that of the Heraldic wild man of the
woods as emblazoned in Armorial Bearings. Indeed this whole ceremony of
initiation struck him as so whimsical, and so nearly resembling the
classical equipment for the funeral regions dictated by the Sibyl to
AEneas,[1] that he took the liberty--on assuming his place in the
funeral train--to put a question to his next neighbour on the use and
meaning of so singular a rite: "Was it an indigenous Welsh custom, or a
custom adopted from France on this particular occasion in honour of
Capt. le Harnois?" His neighbour however happened to be somewhat
churlish and surly; and contented himself with replying--"The meaning
of it is this: there are a d---d number of dogs in this country: and
there's no keeping them in any order without cudgels: that's the use of
them."
For some time the procession advanced with great order and decorum:
and, so long as the sea continued to be visible in the rear, a profound
quietness and silence reigned throughout the multitude: but no sooner
had the windings of the hills and the inequalities of the road shut out
the sea-shore from their view, than a freer movement of feeling began
to stir through the train and to relax all the previous restraints. One
coughed: another hemmed and hawed: some began to unmuffle their voices
from the whispering way in which they had hitherto spoken: and others
who had acquaintances dispersed up and down the procession conversed
with them from a distance in loud and familiar tones. Once invaded, the
whole solemnity of the procession was speedily dissolved: and a
corpulent man, stepping out of the line, threw himself down upon a
stone; unbuttoned his coat and waistcoat; and at the same time sang
out--
"Let who will endure this devil's quick march: I'll not go a step
further without a dram. You there a-head, have you got any thing to
drink? Hearse ahoy,--have you no gin under hatches? I'm d---d, if I go
a step further without grog: and Capt. le Harnois may turn out, and
tumble to his grave head over heels for me, unless you bring us a
glass of something--I don't care what. D---n this walking on foot!
Come, bear a hand there--do you hear, you lubbers a-head! What the
devil! I say--Hearse ahoy!"
When once a mutineer steps forward, he is pretty sure of another to
second him: for it is but the first step over the threshold which
alarms men. So it was here. The standard of revolt, which the corpulent
man had set up, was soon flocked to by many others as well; corpulent;
as lean; and a general clamor was, raised for spirits or wine. This
meeting with no attention, a Dutch concert began of songs in every
possible, style--hunting songs, sea songs, jovial songs, love songs,
comic songs, political songs, together with the lowest obscenity and
ribaldry; all which, floated on the breeze through the sinuous
labyrinths: of the mountains in company with the Catholic chaunts and
anthems which attended the body of Captain le Harnois. Never man had
merrier funeral. Singing being over, then commenced every possible
variety of ingenious mimicry oft every possible sound known to the
earth beneath or the waters under the earth--howling, braying,
bleating, lowing, neighing, whinnying, hooting, barking, catterwauling;
until at length a grave and well-dressed man stepped forward to
expostulate with the insurgents. In this person Bertram immediately
recognised the manager of the theatre, and was thus at once able to
account for the motley-colored dresses which he had seen and the plumes
of feathers. Him however the seceders refused to hear: 'what! listen to
a harlequin whom every man may see for sixpence?' And the insurrection
seemed likely to prosper. The conductors of the funeral however, who
had advanced far a-head with the van of the procession, now returned
and proposed an accommodation with the malcontents--by virtue of which
they should be allowed triple allowance of wine and spirits at the
place of their destination in lieu of all demands on the road, which on
certain considerations it was dangerous to concede. Even this
proposition however would not perhaps have been accepted by the musical
insurgents, but for a sudden alarm which occurred at this moment: a
sailor, who had been reconnoitring from the neighbouring heights,
hastily ran down with the intelligence that the excise officers were
approaching. Under this pressure of common danger the treaty was
immediately concluded: all resumed their places in the procession; and
the funeral anthems began to peal through the winding valleys again.
Bertram indeed, who heard some persons in his neighbourhood still
uttering snatches of ribaldry, anticipated some serious collision of
the sacred music with the profane just as the officers were passing.
But on the contrary the vilest of the ribalds passed from their
ale-house songs into the choral music of the funeral service with as
much ease as a musician modulates out of one key into another.
In a few minutes a halt, which ran through the whole long line of the
procession, announced by a kind of sympathy what was taking place in
it's head. Some stop and cross-questioning it had to parry from a small
party of excise-officers; but that was soon over; the excisemen rode
slowly past them on their sorry jades, and reconnoitred them
suspiciously; but gave them no further interruption: and the whole line
moved on as freely as before.
The funeral train now advanced for some time without interruption. The
next disturbance of the general harmony arose in the shape of some
political songs of an inflammatory character: these were sung in a loud
voice which Bertram immediately recognised as that of Mr. Dulberry.
Much it surprised him to find the reformer in a situation of this
character which apparently promised so little fuel to the peculiar
passions which devoured him. However Mr. Dulberry afterwards made it
evident to Bertram that it promised a good deal. For in the first place
he cherished a secret hope that the whole meeting was of an unlawful
character: and in the second place he was sure of being treated to the
consolations of smuggled brandy; in which, besides it's intrinsic
excellence, every glass would derive an additional zest from the
consideration that it had been the honored means of cheating government
out of three pence half-penny.--With all his horror however of regular
government and subordination, Mr. Dulberry was made sensible that on
the present occasion he must submit to some such oppression; for, as he
was wholly unsupported in his annoyance, the managers were determined
to prevent it's spreading by acting with summary vigor: accordingly the
reformer was roughly seized, and made sensible by the determined air of
those about him that this conduct would not be tolerated. Threats
however seldom weighed much with Mr. Dulberry: to all such arguments he
was in the habit of retorting Magna Charta, the Bill of Rights, Habeas
Corpus, &c.: and to the rough gestures of those who had seized him, he
objected actions of assault and battery. Seeing whom they had to deal
with, one of the coolest amongst the managers applied an argument
better suited to his temper: "Are you a spy, Mr. Dulberry, an informer,
a tool of Lord Londonderry?" Mr. Dulberry was dumb with horror.
"Because," continued the other, "you are now abetting the agents of
government, whose active opposition we anticipate (according to some
private information we have received) at the next toll-bar. We are fast
approaching to it. And they will desire no better plea for stopping our
progress than the style and tendency of your songs on so solemn an
occasion."--At this moment in fact a curve in the road brought them in
view of a turnpike gate, the appearance of which unpleasantly
corroborated the private information: for it was barricadoed with carts
and waggons; and flanked, on both sides of the road, by parties of
horse and foot from the customs and the excise.
At this spectacle Mr. Dulberry immediately desisted from his
opposition; the line of march was restored; and again the solemn anthem
rose--filling the narrow valley through which the road lay. Meantime
the leaders of the company mustered behind the chaises which had now
been placed two a-breast in order to masque their motions: close
consultations were held: and from a sack, which had been taken out of
one of the post chaises, about a dozen cutlasses were distributed to a
select party of friends. These however were concealed by the long
mourning cloaks: and nothing was allowed to appear that could tend to
throw any colorable doubt on the pacific character of the procession.
The head of the train had now reached the gate: an abrupt halt ensued:
and half-a-dozen well-dressed persons went forward to demand the cause
of this interruption. High words were soon heard passing between the
parties; and numbers began to quit their stations in the procession and
press forward--some from secret orders to that effect, and others from
anxious curiosity. Among the latter was Bertram, who came up as one of
the spokesmen on the side of the funeral was exclaiming,
"So then you refuse to respect the order of the lord lieutenant?
"By no means," replied a revenue officer, "by no means: we have the
highest respect for the lord lieutenant and his orders."
"You mean to say then that the order is a forged one?"
"No: not forged, but granted perhaps on forged representations: the
lord lieutenant is no more satisfied with the truth of the allegations
which obtained that order--than we are."
"That is false, Sir: the lord lieutenant is perfectly satisfied, as
some here can testify: and it is a mere accident and owing no doubt to
the earliness of our departure from the shore, that his carriage is not
in the train."
"You deceive yourselves, gentlemen; it is no accident. Information was
given to Sir Morgan late last night which determined him to alter his
intentions in that point, or at least to suspend them. Satisfy us that
the body of Captain le Harnois is in that hearse, and we will
immediately despatch an express to Walladmor Castle; from which a
carriage and attendants will be able to join you in two hours by the
cross road of Festiniog."
"But, good God! is it possible that you can wish to disturb the
remains of a gallant officer and a legitimate descendant of the
Montmorencies? Why, Sir, the most savage islanders of the South
Seas,--cannibals even, anthropophagi, and 'men whose heads do grow
beneath their shoulders,'--respect the rights of the dead. The son of
Capt. le Harnois is in the company: will not his word of honor, the
word of a Montmorency, be a sufficient guarantee for us? The bare name
of a Montmorency, the first French family that ever received baptism,
ought to be a passport through Christendom."
"It is a name," replied the officer, "that will pass no turnpike gate
in Merionethshire. And to cut the matter short, not a carriage shall
pass this gate till we have searched it."
"But if you disregard the name of Montmorency, will you show no honor
to the Lilies of France? The deceased Captain mounted the flag of his
Most Christian Majesty. Are you not afraid of causing a rupture between
the courts of St. James and St. Cloud?"
The officer smiled, and said he hoped it would not come to _that_.
"Perhaps not: but what will prevent it? Why this, my friend: that you
will yourself be made the sacrifice. It is notorious that the English
treasury are just now shy of war: something however must be thought of
to appease the wounded honor of France; Lord Londonderry will send down
a mantrap: some dark night you will be kidnapped: and your head will be
sent in a charger to the Thuilleries."
A burst of laughter followed, in which Bertram was surprized to
perceive that many of his own party joined as heartily as the other.
Some however, of a weather-beaten sea-faring appearance, listened with
manifest impatience to this conference; and one of them, as spokesman
for the rest, cried out--
"My eyes! what's the good of all this jaw? Get out of my Way, master
Harlequin, and go aft: noble Captain, shall us lay 'em aboard?" So
saying he turned his eye upon a young man near the hearse who had been
pointed out to Bertram as young le Harnois and chief mourner. His hat
was slouched over his eyes, and his side face only presented to
Bertram,--who in this however fancied again that he saw enough to
recognize the stranger who had so much impressed him in the gallery of
the inn. But he had little time for examination: in a moment after the
young man whispered to a person who stood on his right and to another
on his left: these retired a little to the rear; whilst a strong party,
that had gradually collected in advance of the hearse, rapidly formed
and dressed in a line facing the revenue officers. At that instant the
young man whistled; and, in the twinkling of an eye, upwards of forty
cloaks were slipped off--discovering a stout body of sailors well armed
with pistols, dirks, and cutlasses; and some of them carrying carbines
slung at their backs. A general huzza followed: the two persons who had
gone to the rear, each with seven or eight followers, ran severally to
the right and left at right angles from the road strait up the steep
hills which rose on each side; then making a short circuit they
descended like a torrent in the rear of the revenue officers; swarmed
with the agility of cats over their waggons, and from these upon the
turnpike gate--whence they threw themselves with ease on the horses,
riding _en croupe_ behind the officers; who on their part, being hemmed
in by a party far out-numbering themselves in front and by the gate
behind, had no means of counteracting the man[oe]uvre. In this awkward
situation pinioned from behind and too ill mounted to have any hope of
charging through so dense a crowd of armed men whose rear rested upon a
triple line of post chaises, the officers saw that resistance would be
fruitless; and unwillingly they gave up their arms. Meantime a stronger
party of officers, who were on foot, had retired into a little garden
adjoining to the turnpike house, and were now drawn up behind; a
low hedge. To dislodge these, a select body of sailors was ordered
forward--which 'the chief mourner' headed in person. As they were
advancing, the officers discharged their pistols--of which however not
many were loaded with ball; so powerful, a resistance not having been
anticipated; and the result was, that nobody was wounded except the
commander of the party; and he only by a flesh wound in his left arm.
According to the directions previously given them, before the officers
had time to reload, the whole party of sailors rushed in upon them;
and, without unshipping their fire-arms or cutlasses, attacked them
with cudgels. Ten or eleven out of five-and-twenty were instantly
stretched on the ground and disarmed; of the remainder the major part
scaled the turnpike gate, and succeeded in throwing themselves into a
waggon which was drawn up with its broad-side across the road. Beyond
this were drawn up two other lines of carts; into the last of which,
for the sake of keeping open their retreat, they stepped. From these
however the horses had not been taken out: they were simply backed up
at right angles to the two inner lines, which stood across the road,
the horses' heads looking down the road. Here they posted themselves;
half their faces in one direction, half in the other. "Now then for my
boarders!" said the young leader jocosely, "where are my boarders?" And
instantly an active party, whom he ordered not to advance beyond the
second range of carts, swarmed over the gate: two or three others
meantime slipped round by the hill; and, whilst the 'boarders' engaged
the whole attention of the enemy, applied their cudgels so suddenly and
so vigorously to the horses that they started off at full gallop; and,
to prevent any early relaxation of their speed, the sailors ran along
with them for fifty or sixty yards--belaboring them with exemplary
vigor. The consequence of this sudden movement was--that five lost
their balance and fell overboard: all the rest continued to scud
along the road in the two heavy vessels on board which they had
embarked themselves--repeatedly crossing and nearly running foul of
each other--until at length, just as they approached a turn of the road
which would have carried them out of sight of their enemies, they came
into sudden and violent collision; both carts capsized; and all on
board were shot out to every point of the compass. A roar of laughter
ascended from the sailors: who now proceeded hastily to collect their
trophies, and to clear the road of obstructions. The captured arms were
tossed into a light cart, which was sent on before. Three of the
horses, selected with due regard to their dulness and moral incapacity
for trotting, were harnessed to the waggon; which was given up to those
of the revenue officers who had sustained any hurt in the engagement.
The rest were mustered and directed to go about their business by the
same road which the funeral train had just traversed. By these
arrangements all danger of immediate pursuit was obviated: the turnpike
being eighteen miles in that direction from the nearest town. The
chapel of Utragan, four miles a-head, was fixed as the place at which
all the horses and arms would be left for their owners on the ensuing
night: and then the enemy were finally turned adrift with three cheers
and a glass of French brandy to those who chose to accept it.
"And now, my lads," said the leader, after ordering a double allowance
of brandy to be served out to every man, "now we must make the most of
our time. So leave the carts here: clap the horses on as leaders to our
own; and push forward like Hell to Utragan, where we must all
rendezvous, and somewhere in that neighbourhood will consign our cargo
to safe custody." So saying he mounted one of the horses, and hastily
rode off.
Then followed a scene which put the finishing hand to the astonishment
of Bertram (who had stood aloof during the late engagement) and formed
an appropriate close to the funeral of Captain le Harnois. The cart
horses were distributed, as far as they would go, amongst the
carriages: the hearse which originally had four, was now therefore
drawn by six. A jolly boatswain, who had armed his heels with a
pair of immense old French spurs, rode the leaders--a couple of huge
broad-backed plough horses: his mourning cloak he used by way of
saddle; and in lieu of whip he produced the "cat" of the Fleurs-de-lys.
The two hinder pairs were driven with long reins by a sailor whose off
leg was a wooden one: this he turned to excellent account by thumping
the foot-board incessantly to the great alarm of the horses. Assessor
to him upon the box, sate an old fisherman who made himself useful to
the concern by leaning forward and flagellating the wheel horses with
one of the captured cart whips. Upon the roof were mounted sixteen or
eighteen sailors, two of whom in one corner were performing a minuet
with a world of ceremonious bows and curtseys to each other; and most
of the others were linking hands and dancing the steps of a hornpipe
about a man in the centre who had tied his mourning cloak to his cudgel
by way of flag, and was holding it aloft to catch the breezes which
streamed through the narrow defiles of the hills. None but sailors,
well practised in treading the deck of a rolling ship, could possibly
have maintained their footing: for the boatswain, the wooden leg, and
the fisherman, kept up their horses inexorably to their duty of an
immutable gallop; the hearse and its plumes flew through the solitary
valley; the post-chaises, carrying a similar crew on their upper decks,
flew after the hearse; and in the rear of the whole, with all the sail
they could crowd (but _haud passibus aequis_) flew a long straggling
tail of pedestrians with cloaks streaming, outstretched arms, and
waving hats, hallooing and upbraiding the sailors with treachery for
not taking them on board. Amongst them the most conspicuous was Mr.
Dulberry: with his cloak tucked about his middle, "succinct for speed,"
he spun along with fury in his eyes--howling out, at every moment,
"Stop, ye cursed Aristocrats! All men are equal. Stop for your
pedestrian brothers; ye vile Aristocratic hounds!"--but all in vain:
the sailors had shouting enough of their own to mind. From the hearse,
which acted as commodore to the whole squadron, a running fire of
signals and nautical instructions was kept up fore and aft: "Now
bowson! now Fisherman! what are you after?--keep 'em up, keep 'em up.
Look at that great lumbering devil."--"What _that_?"--"No, that on the
starboard: by G---, he runs like a cow. Who's got a stone? Here, hand
it us; and I'll send him a remembrance. Messmates astern,--keep a sharp
look out; there's breakers a-head. Now, bowson, come--what are you up
to? Give that off leader of yours a kick for me. Look at him: He never
was out of a plough field; and he thinks he's ploughing for the devil.
Have you ever a bullet, bowson? Drop it into his ear, and he'll gallop
like a pig in a storm.--Fisherman, you throw your lash as if you were
trout-fishing: here, give us your whip, and I'll start him--an old
black devil! Now, bowson, mind how you double Cape Horn!"
In the next moment Cape Horn was doubled: one after one the flying
squadron of hearse and chaises, which still continued to scud along
like clouds before the wind, whirled round a point of rock and vanished
like a hurricane: in a few minutes the flying pedestrians had followed
them: the hubbub of shouts, halloos, curses, and travelling echoes,
were hushed abruptly as in the silence of the grave: the wild spectacle
of black draperies and fierce faces had fled like an exhalation or a
delirium: all were locked up from the eye and the ear by the lofty
barriers of another valley, and Bertram, who had lingered behind--and
now found himself left alone in a solitary valley with a silence as
profound under the broad light of three o'clock in the afternoon as
elsewhere at midnight,--felt so much perplexed by this abrupt
transition and the tumultuous succession of incidents, that for some
time he was almost disposed to doubt whether Captain le Harnois, and
the funeral of Captain le Harnois, and every thing that related to
Captain le Harnois were not some aerial pageant bred out of those
melancholy vapors which are often attributed to the solemn impressions
of mountain solitudes.
FOOTNOTE TO "CHAPTER IX.":
[Footnote 1:
Sed non ante datur telluris operta subire,
Auricomos quam quis decerpaerit arbore f[oe]tus. _AEn._ vi. 140.]
END OF VOL. I.
C. Baldwin, Printer,
New Bridge-street, London.