THE BOOBY SQUIRE.
A long time elapsed, said Buckthorne,
without my receiving any accounts of
my cousin and his estate. Indeed, I felt
so much soreness on the subject, that I
wished if possible to shut it from my
thoughts. At length chance took me to
that part of the country, and I could not
refrain from making some inquiries.
I learnt that my cousin had grown up
ignorant, self-willed, and clownish. His
ignorance and clownishness had prevented
his mingling with the neighbouring
gentry: in spite of his great fortune,
he had been unsuccessful in an attempt
to gain the hand of the daughter of the
parson, and had at length shrunk into
the limits of such society as a mere man
of wealth can gather in a country neighbourhood.
He kept horses and hounds, and a
roaring table, at which were collected
the loose livers of the country round, and
the shabby gentlemen of a village in the
vicinity. When he could get no other
company, he would smoke and drink
with his own servants, who in turn
fleeced and despised him. Still, with all
his apparent prodigality, he had a leaven
of the old man in him which showed that
he was his true-born son. He lived far
within his income, was vulgar in his expenses,
and penurious in many points
wherein a gentleman would be extravagant.
His house-servants were obliged
occasionally to work on his estate,
and part of the pleasure-grounds were
ploughed up and devoted to husbandry.
His table, though plentiful, was coarse;
his liquors strong and bad; and more
ale and whisky were expended in his
establishment than generous wine. He
was loud and arrogant at his own table,
and exacted a rich man's homage from
his vulgar and obsequious guests.
As to Iron John, his old grandfather,
he had grown impatient of the tight hand
his own grandson kept over him, and
quarrelled with him soon after he came
to the estate. The old man had retired
to the neighbouring village, where he
lived on the legacy of his late master,
in a small cottage, and was as seldom
seen out of it as a rat out of his hole in
daylight.
The cub, like Caliban, seemed to have
an instinctive attachment to his mother.
She resided with him, but, from long
habit, she acted more as a servant than
as mistress of the mansion; for she toiled
in all the domestic drudgery, and was
oftener in the kitchen than in the parlour.
Such was the information which
I collected of my rival cousin, who had
so unexpectedly elbowed me out of all
my expectations.
I now felt an irresistible hankering to
pay a visit to this scene of my boyhood,
and to get a peep at the odd kind of life
that was passing within the mansion of
my maternal ancestors. I determined
to do so in disguise. My booby cousin
had never seen enough of me to be very
familiar with my countenance, and a
few years make great difference between
youth and manhood. I understood he
was a breeder of cattle, and proud of his
stock; I dressed myself therefore as a
substantial farmer, and with the assistance
of a red scratch that came low
down on my forehead, made a complete
change in my physiognomy.
It was past three o'clock when I arrived
at the gate of the park, and was
admitted by an old woman, who was
washing in a dilapidated building which
had once been a porter's lodge. I advanced
up the remains of a noble avenue,
many of the trees of which had been cut
down and sold for timber. The grounds
were in scarcely better keeping than
during my uncle's lifetime. The grass
was overgrown with weeds, and the trees
wanted pruning and clearing of dead
branches. Cattle were grazing about the
lawns, and ducks and geese swimming in
the fish-ponds. The road to the house
bore very few traces of carriage wheels,
as my cousin received few visiters but
such as came on foot or horseback, and
never used a carriage himself. Once
indeed, as I was told, he had the old
family carriage drawn out from among
the dust and cobwebs of the coach-house,
and furbished up, and had driven, with
his mother, to the village church, to take
formal possession of the family pew; but
there was such hooting and laughing
after them, as they passed through the
village, and such giggling and bantering
about the church-door, that the pageant
had never made a re-appearance.
As I approached the house, a legion of
whelps sallied out, barking at me, accompanied
by the low howling, rather than
barking, of two old worn-out bloodhounds,
which I recognised for the ancient
life-guards of my uncle. The house
had still a neglected random appearance,
though much altered for the better since
my last visit. Several of the windows
were broken and patched up with boards,
and others had been bricked up to save
taxes. I observed smoke, however, rising
from the chimneys, a phenomenon rarely
witnessed in the ancient establishment.
On passing that part of the house where
the dining-room was situated, I heard
the sound of boisterous merriment, where
three or four voices were talking at once,
and oaths and laughter were horribly
mingled.
The uproar of the dogs had brought a
servant to the door, a tall hard-fisted
country clown, with a livery-coat put
over the under garments of a ploughman.
I requested to see the master of the house,
but was told he was at dinner with some
"gemmen" of the neighbourhood. I
made known my business, and sent in to
know if I might talk with the master
about his cattle, for I felt a great desire
to have a peep at him in his orgies.
Word was returned that he was engaged
with company, and could not
attend to business, but that if I would
step in and take a drink of something, I
was heartily welcome. I accordingly
entered the hall, where whips and hats
of all kinds and shapes were lying on
an oaken table; two or three clownish
servants were lounging about; every
thing had a look of confusion and carelessness.
The apartments through which I
passed had the same air of departed
gentility and sluttish housekeeping. The
once rich curtains were faded and dusty,
the furniture greased and tarnished. On
entering the dining-room I found a number
of odd, vulgar-looking, rustic gentlemen
seated round a table, on which were
bottles, decanters, tankards, pipes, and
tobacco. Several dogs were lying about
the room, or sitting and watching their
masters, and one was gnawing a bone
under a side-table. The master of the
feast sat at the head of the board. He
was greatly altered. He had grown
thickset and rather gummy, with a fiery
foxy head of hair. There was a singular
mixture of foolishness, arrogance,
and conceit, in his countenance. He
was dressed in a vulgarly fine style,
with leather breeches, a red waistcoat,
and green coat, and was evidently, like
his guests, a little flushed with drinking.
The whole company stared at me with a
whimsical muzzy look, like men whose
senses were a little obfuscated by beer
rather than wine.
My cousin (God forgive me! the appellation
sticks in my throat), my cousin
invited me with awkward civility, or, as
he intended it, condescension, to sit to
the table and drink. We talked, as
usual, about the weather, the crops, politics,
and hard times. My cousin was a
loud politician, and evidently accustomed
to talk without contradiction at his own
table. He was amazingly loyal, and
talked of standing by the throne to the
last guinea, "as every gentleman of fortune
should do." The village exciseman,
who was half asleep, could just
ejaculate "very true" to every thing he
said. The conversation turned upon
cattle; he boasted of his breed, his mode
of crossing it, and of the general management
of his estate. This unluckily drew
on a history of the place and of the
family. He spoke of my late uncle with
the greatest irreverence, which I could
easily forgive. He mentioned my name,
and my blood began to boil. He described
my frequent visits to my uncle,
when I was a lad; and I found the varlet,
even at that time, imp as he was, had
known that he was to inherit the estate.
He described the scene of my uncle's
death, and the opening of the will, with
a degree of coarse humour that I had
not expected from him; and, vexed as I
was, I could not help joining in the
laugh, for I have always relished a joke,
even though made at my own expense.
He went on to speak of my various pursuits,
my strolling freak, and that somewhat
nettled me; at length he talked of
my parents. He ridiculed my father; I
stomached even that, though with great
difficulty. He mentioned my mother
with a sneer, and in an instant he lay
sprawling at my feet.
Here a tumult succeeded: the table
was nearly overturned; bottles, glasses,
and tankards, rolled crashing and clattering
about the floor. The company
seized hold of both of us, to keep us from
doing any further mischief. I struggled
to get loose, for I was boiling with fury.
My cousin defied me to strip and fight
him on the lawn. I agreed, for I felt the
strength of a giant in me, and I longed
to pommel him soundly.
Away then we were borne. A ring
was formed. I had a second assigned
me in true boxing style. My cousin, as
he advanced to fight, said something
about his generosity in showing me such
fair play, when I had made such an unprovoked
attack upon him at his own
table. "Stop there," cried I, in a rage.
"Unprovoked! know that I am John
Buckthorne, and you have insulted the
memory of my mother."
The lout was suddenly struck by what
I said: he drew back, and thought for a
moment.
"Nay, damn it," said he, "that's too
much—that's clean another thing—I've
a mother myself—and no one shall speak
ill of her, bad as she is."
He paused again; nature seemed to
have a rough struggle in his rude bosom.
"Damn it, cousin," cried he, "I'm
sorry for what I said. Thou'st served
me right in knocking me down, and I
like thee the better for it. Here's my
hand: come and live with me, and damn
me but the best room in the house, and
the best horse in the stable, shall be at
thy service."
I declare to you I was strongly moved
at this instance of nature breaking her
way through such a lump of flesh. I
forgave the fellow in a moment his two
heinous crimes, of having been born in
wedlock, and inheriting my estate. I
shook the hand he offered me, to convince
him that I bore him no ill will;
and then making my way through the
gaping crowd of toad-eaters, bade adieu
to my uncle's domains for ever. This
is the last I have seen or heard of my
cousin, or of the domestic concerns of
Doubting Castle.
