by Clara Reeve
sons request, tookhim into his own family, and gives him the same education as his ownchildren; the young lords doat upon him, especially Master William, whois about his own age: It is supposed that he will attend the young Lordswhen they go to the wars, which my Lord intends they shall by and by."
"What you tell me," said Sir Philip, "increases every minute my respectfor your Lord; he is an excellent father and master, he seeks out meritin obscurity; he distinguishes and rewards it,--I honour him with all myheart."
In this manner they conversed together till they came within view ofthe castle. In a field near the house they saw a company of youths, withcrossbows in their hands, shooting at a mark.
"There," said the servant, "are our young gentlemen at their exercises."
Sir Philip stopped his horse to observe them; he heard two or three ofthem cry out, "Edmund is the victor! He wins the prize!"
"I must," said Sir Philip, "take a view of this Edmund."
He jumped off his horse, gave the bridle to the servant, and walked intothe field. The young gentlemen came up, and paid their respects to him;he apologized for intruding upon their sports, and asked which wasthe victor? Upon which the youth he spoke to beckoned to another, whoimmediately advanced, and made his obeisance; As he drew near, SirPhilip fixed his eyes upon him, with so much attention, that he seemednot to observe his courtesy and address. At length he recollectedhimself, and said, "What is your name, young man?"
"Edmund Twyford," replied the youth; "and I have the honour to attendupon the Lord Fitz-Owen's sons."
"Pray, noble sir," said the youth who first addressed Sir Philip, "arenot you the stranger who is expected by my father?"
"I am, sir," answered he, "and I go to pay my respects to him."
"Will you excuse our attendance, Sir? We have not yet finished ourexercises."
"My dear youth," said Sir Philip, "no apology is necessary; but will youfavour me with your proper name, that I may know to whose courtesy I amobliged?"
"My name is William Fitz-Owen; that gentleman is my eldest brother,Master Robert; that other my kinsman, Master Richard Wenlock."
"Very well; I thank you, gentle Sir; I beg you not to stir another step,your servant holds my horse."
"Farewell, Sir," said Master William; "I hope we shall have the pleasureof meeting you at dinner."
The youths returned to their sports, and Sir Philip mounted his horseand proceeded to the castle; he entered it with a deep sigh, andmelancholy recollections. The Baron received him with the utmost respectand courtesy. He gave a brief account of the principal events that hadhappened in the family of Lovel during his absence; he spoke of the lateLord Lovel with respect, of the present with the affection of a brother.Sir Philip, in return, gave a brief recital of his own adventuresabroad, and of the disagreeable circumstances he had met with since hisreturn home; he pathetically lamented the loss of all his friends, notforgetting that of his faithful servant on the way; saying he could becontented to give up the world, and retire to a religious house, butthat he was withheld by the consideration, that some who dependedentirely upon him, would want his presence and assistance; and, besidethat, he thought he might be of service to many others. The Baron agreedwith him in opinion, that a man was of much more service to the worldwho continued in it, than one who retired from it, and gave his fortuneto the Church, whose servants did not always make the best use of it.Sir Philip then turned the conversation, and congratulated the Baronon his hopeful family; he praised their persons and address, and warmlyapplauded the care he bestowed on their education. The Baron listenedwith pleasure to the honest approbation of a worthy heart, and enjoyedthe true happiness of a parent.
Sir Philip then made further enquiry concerning Edmund, whose appearancehad struck him with an impression in his favour.
"That boy," said the Baron, "is the son of a cottager in thisneighbourhood; his uncommon merit, and gentleness of manners,distinguish him from those of his own class; from his childhood heattracted the notice and affection of all that knew him; he was belovedeverywhere but at his father's house, and there it should seem that hismerits were his crimes; for the peasant, his father, hated him, treatedhim severely, and at length threatened to turn him out of doors; heused to run here and there on errands for my people, and at length theyobliged me to take notice of him; my sons earnestly desired I would takehim into my family; I did so about two years ago, intending to make himtheir servant; but his extraordinary genius and disposition have obligedme to look upon him in a superior light; perhaps I may incur the censureof many people, by giving him so many advantages, and treating himas the companion of my children; his merit must justify or condemn mypartiality for him; however, I trust that I have secured to my childrena faithful servant of the upper kind, and a useful friend to my family."
Sir Philip warmly applauded his generous host, and wished to be a sharerin his bounty to that fine youth, whose appearance indicated all thequalities that had endeared him to his companions.
At the hour of dinner the young men presented themselves before theirLord, and his guest. Sir Philip addressed himself to Edmund; he askedhim many questions, and received modest and intelligent answers, andhe grew every minute more pleased with him. After dinner the youthswithdrew with their tutor to pursue their studies. Sir Philip sat forsome time wrapt up in meditation. After some minutes, the Baronasked him, "If he might not be favoured with the fruits of hiscontemplations?"
"You shall, my Lord," answered he, "for you have a right to them. I wasthinking, that when many blessings are lost, we should cherish thosethat remain, and even endeavour to replace the others. My Lord, I havetaken a strong liking to that youth whom you call Edmund Twyford; Ihave neither children nor relations to claim my fortune, nor share myaffections; your Lordship has many demands upon your generosity: I canprovide for this promising youth without doing injustice to any one;will you give him to me?"
"He is a fortunate boy," said the Baron, "to gain your favour so soon."
"My Lord," said the knight, "I will confess to you, that the first thingthat touched my heart in his favour, is a strong resemblance he bears toa certain dear friend I once had, and his manner resembles him as muchas his person; his qualities deserve that he should be placed in ahigher rank; I will adopt him for my son, and introduce him into theworld as my relation, if you will resign him to me; What say you?"
"Sir," said the Baron, "you have made a noble offer, and I am too muchthe young man's friend to be a hindrance to his preferment. It is truethat I intended to provide for him in my own family; but I cannot do itso effectually as by giving him to you, whose generous affection beingunlimited by other ties, may in time prefer him to a higher station ashe shall deserve it. I have only one condition to make; that the ladshall have his option; for I would not oblige him to leave my serviceagainst his inclination."
"You say well," replied Sir Philip; "nor would I take him upon otherterms."
"Agreed then," said the Baron; "let us send for Edmund hither."
A servant was sent to fetch him; he came immediately, and his Lordthus bespoke him.
"Edmund, you owe eternal obligations to this gentleman, who, perceivingin you a certain resemblance to a friend of his, and liking yourbehaviour, has taken a great affection for you, insomuch that he desiresto receive you into his family: I cannot better provide for you than bydisposing of you to him; and, if you have no objection, you shall returnhome with him when he goes from hence."
The countenance of Edmund underwent many alterations during thisproposal of his Lord; it expressed tenderness, gratitude, and sorrow,but the last was predominant; he bowed respectfully to the Baron and SirPhilip, and, after some hesitation, spoke as follows:--
"I feel very strongly the obligations I owe to this gentleman, forhis noble and generous offer; I cannot express the sense I have of hisgoodness to me, a peasant boy, only known to him by my Lord's kind andpartial mention; this uncommon bounty claims my eternal gratitude. Toyou, my honoured Lord, I owe every thing, even this ge
ntleman's goodopinion; you distinguished me when nobody else did; and, next to you,your sons are my best and dearest benefactors; they introduced me toyour notice. My heart is unalterably attached to this house and family,and my utmost ambition is to spend my life in your service; but if youhave perceived any great and grievous faults in me, that make you wishto put me out of your family, and if you have recommended me to thisgentleman in order to be rid of me, in that case I will submit to yourpleasure, as I would if you should sentence me to death."
During this speech the tears made themselves channels down Edmund'scheeks; and his two noble auditors, catching the tender inflection, wipedtheir eyes at the conclusion.
"My dear child," said the Baron, "you overcome me by your tenderness andgratitude! I know of no faults you have committed, that I should wish tobe rid of you. I thought to do you the best service by promoting you tothat of Sir Philip Harclay, who is both able and willing to provide foryou; but if you prefer my service to his, I will not part with you."
Upon this Edmund kneeled to the Baron; he embraced his knees. "My dearLord! I am, and will be your servant, in preference to any man living; Ionly ask your permission to live and die in your service."
"You see, Sir Philip," said the Baron, "how this boy engages the heart;how can I part with him?"
"I cannot ask you any more," answered Sir Philip, "I see it isimpossible; but I esteem you both still higher than ever; the youthfor his gratitude, and your lordship for your noble mind and truegenerosity; blessings attend you both!"
"Oh, sir," said Edmund, pressing the hand of Sir Philip, "do not thinkme ungrateful to you; I will ever remember your goodness, and pray toHeaven to reward it: the name of Sir Philip Harclay shall be engravenupon my heart, next to my Lord and his family, for ever."
Sir Philip raised the youth and embraced him, saying, "If ever you wanta friend, remember me; and depend upon my protection, so long as youcontinue to deserve it."
Edmund bowed low, and withdrew, with his eyes full of tears ofsensibility and gratitude. When he was gone, Sir Philip said, "I amthinking, that though young Edmund wants not my assistance at present,he may hereafter stand in need of my friendship. I should not wonderif such rare qualities as he possesses, should one day create envy,and raise him enemies; in which case he might come to lose your favour,without any fault of yours or his own."
"I am obliged to you for the warning," said the Baron, "I hope it willbe unnecessary; but if ever I part with Edmund, you shall have therefusal of him."
"I thank your Lordship for all your civilities to me," said the knight;"I leave my best wishes with you and your hopeful family, and I humblytake my leave."
"Will you not stay one night in the castle?" returned my Lord; "youshall be as welcome a guest as ever."
"I acknowledge your goodness and hospitality, but this house fills mewith melancholy recollections; I came hither with a heavy heart, and itwill not be lighter while I remain here. I shall always remember yourlordship with the highest respect and esteem; and I pray God to preserveyou, and increase your blessings!"
After some further ceremonies, Sir Philip departed, and returned to oldWyatt's, ruminating on the vicissitude of human affairs, and thinking onthe changes he had seen.
At his return to Wyatt's cottage, he found the family assembledtogether. He told them he would take another night's lodging there,which they heard with great pleasure;--for he had familiarised himselfto them in the last evening's conversation, insomuch that they began toenjoy his company. He told Wyatt of the misfortune he had sustained bylosing his servant on the way, and wished he could get one to attendhim home in his place. Young John looked earnestly at his father, whoreturned a look of approbation.
"I perceive one in this company," said he, "that would be proud to serveyour honour; but I fear he is not brought up well enough."
John coloured with impatience; he could not forbear speaking.
"Sir, I can answer for an honest heart, a willing mind, and a light pairof heels; and though I am somewhat awkward, I shall be proud to learn,to please my noble master, if he will but try me."
"You say well," said Sir Philip, "I have observed your qualifications,and if you are desirous to serve me, I am equally pleased with you; ifyour father has no objection I will take you."
"Objection, sir!" said the old man; "it will be my pride to prefer himto such a noble gentleman; I will make no terms for him, but leave it toyour honour to do for him as he shall deserve."
"Very well," said Sir Philip, "you shall be no loser by that; I willcharge myself with the care of the young man."
The bargain was struck, and Sir Philip purchased a horse for John ofthe old man. The next morning they set out; the knight left marks of hisbounty with the good couple, and departed, laden with their blessing andprayers. He stopped at the place where his faithful servant was buried,and caused masses to be said for the repose of his soul; then, pursuinghis way by easy journeys, arrived in safety at home. His family rejoicedat his return; he settled his new servant in attendance upon his person;he then looked round his neighbourhood for objects of his charity; whenhe saw merit in distress, it was his delight to raise and support it; hespent his time in the service of his Creator, and glorified him in doinggood to his creatures. He reflected frequently upon every thing that hadbefallen him in his late journey to the west; and, at his leisure, tookdown all the particulars in writing.
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[Here follows an interval of four years, as by the manuscript; and thisomission seems intended by the writer. What follows is in a differenthand, and the character is more modern.]
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ABOUT this time the prognostics of Sir Philip Harclay began to beverified, that Edmund's good qualities might one day excite envy andcreate him enemies. The sons and kinsmen of his patron began to seekoccasion to find fault with him, and to depreciate him with others. TheBaron's eldest son and heir, Master Robert, had several contests withMaster William, the second son, upon his account: This youth had a warmaffection for Edmund, and whenever his brother and kinsmen treated himslightly, he supported him against their malicious insinuations. Mr.Richard Wenlock, and Mr. John Markham, were the sisters sons of the LordFitz-Owen; and there were several other more distant relations, who,with them, secretly envied Edmund's fine qualities, and strove to lessenhim in the esteem of the Baron and his family. By degrees they exciteda dislike in Master Robert, that in time was fixed into habit, and felllittle short of aversion.
Young Wenlock's hatred was confirmed by an additional circumstance: Hehad a growing passion for the Lady Emma, the Baron's only daughter;and, as love is eagle-eyed, he saw, or fancied he saw her cast an eye ofpreference on Edmund. An accidental service that she received fromhim, had excited her grateful regards and attentions towards him. Theincessant view of his fine person and qualities, had perhaps improvedher esteem into a still softer sensation, though she was yet ignorant ofit, and thought it only the tribute due to gratitude and friendship.
One Christmas time, the Baron and all his family went to visit a familyin Wales; crossing a ford, the horse that carried the Lady Emma, whorode behind her cousin Wenlock, stumbled and fell down, and threw heroff into the water: Edmund dismounted in a moment, and flew to herassistance; he took her out so quick, that the accident was not knownto some part of the company. From this time Wenlock strove to undermineEdmund in her esteem, and she conceived herself obliged in justiceand gratitude to defend him against the malicious insinuations ofhis enemies. She one day asked Wenlock, why he in particular shouldendeavour to recommend himself to her favour, by speaking againstEdmund, to whom she was under great obligations? He made but littlereply; but the impression sunk deep into his rancorous heart; every wordin Edmund's behalf was like a poisoned arrow that rankled in thewound, and grew every day more inflamed. Sometimes he would pretend toextenuate Edmund's supposed faults, in order to load him with the sinof ingratitude upon other occasions. Rancour works deepest in the heartthat strives to conceal it; and, when covered by ar
t, frequently puts onthe appearance of candour. By these means did Wenlock and Markham imposeupon the credulity of Master Robert and their other relations: MasterWilliam only stood proof against all their insinuations.
The same autumn that Edmund completed his eighteenth year, the Barondeclared his intention of sending the young men of his house to Francethe following spring, to learn the art of war, and signalize theircourage and abilities.
Their ill-will towards Edmund was so well concealed, that his patronhad not discovered it; but it was whispered among the servants, who aregenerally close observers of the manners of their principals. Edmundwas a favourite with them all, which was a strong presumption that hedeserved to be so, for they seldom shew much regard to dependents, orto superiour domestics, who are generally objects of envy and dislike.Edmund was courteous, but not familiar with them; and, by this means,gained their affections without soliciting them. Among them was an oldserving man, called Joseph Howel; this man had formerly served the oldLord Lovel, and his son; and when the young Lord died, and Sir Waltersold the castle to his brother-in-law, the Lord Fitz-Owen, he only ofall the old servants was left in the house, to take care of it, and todeliver it into the possession of the new proprietor, who retained himin his service: He was a man of few words, but much reflection: and,without troubling himself about other people's affairs, went silentlyand properly about his own business; more solicitous to discharge