Authors: Elizabeth Gaskell
Mr. Horner was a very faithful steward, and very respectful to my lady;
although sometimes, I thought she was sharper to him than to any one
else; perhaps because she knew that, although he never said anything, he
disapproved of the Hanburys being made to pay for the Earl Ludlow's
estates and state.
The late lord had been a sailor, and had been as extravagant in his
habits as most sailors are, I am told,—for I never saw the sea; and yet
he had a long sight to his own interests; but whatever he was, my lady
loved him and his memory, with about as fond and proud a love as ever
wife gave husband, I should think.
For a part of his life Mr. Horner, who was born on the Hanbury property,
had been a clerk to an attorney in Birmingham; and these few years had
given him a kind of worldly wisdom, which, though always exerted for her
benefit, was antipathetic to her ladyship, who thought that some of her
steward's maxims savoured of trade and commerce. I fancy that if it had
been possible, she would have preferred a return to the primitive system,
of living on the produce of the land, and exchanging the surplus for such
articles as were needed, without the intervention of money.
But Mr. Horner was bitten with new-fangled notions, as she would say,
though his new-fangled notions were what folk at the present day would
think sadly behindhand; and some of Mr. Gray's ideas fell on Mr. Horner's
mind like sparks on tow, though they started from two different points.
Mr. Horner wanted to make every man useful and active in this world, and
to direct as much activity and usefulness as possible to the improvement
of the Hanbury estates, and the aggrandisement of the Hanbury family, and
therefore he fell into the new cry for education.
Mr. Gray did not care much,—Mr. Horner thought not enough,—for this
world, and where any man or family stood in their earthly position; but
he would have every one prepared for the world to come, and capable of
understanding and receiving certain doctrines, for which latter purpose,
it stands to reason, he must have heard of these doctrines; and therefore
Mr. Gray wanted education. The answer in the Catechism that Mr. Horner
was most fond of calling upon a child to repeat, was that to, "What is
thy duty towards thy neighbour?" The answer Mr. Gray liked best to hear
repeated with unction, was that to the question, "What is the inward and
spiritual grace?" The reply to which Lady Ludlow bent her head the
lowest, as we said our Catechism to her on Sundays, was to, "What is thy
duty towards God?" But neither Mr. Horner nor Mr. Gray had heard many
answers to the Catechism as yet.
Up to this time there was no Sunday-school in Hanbury. Mr. Gray's
desires were bounded by that object. Mr. Horner looked farther on: he
hoped for a day-school at some future time, to train up intelligent
labourers for working on the estate. My lady would hear of neither one
nor the other: indeed, not the boldest man whom she ever saw would have
dared to name the project of a day-school within her hearing.
So Mr. Horner contented himself with quietly teaching a sharp, clever lad
to read and write, with a view to making use of him as a kind of foreman
in process of time. He had his pick of the farm-lads for this purpose;
and, as the brightest and sharpest, although by far the raggedest and
dirtiest, singled out Job Gregson's son. But all this—as my lady never
listened to gossip, or indeed, was spoken to unless she spoke first—was
quite unknown to her, until the unlucky incident took place which I am
going to relate.
I think my lady was not aware of Mr. Horner's views on education (as
making men into more useful members of society), or the practice to which
he was putting his precepts in taking Harry Gregson as pupil and protege;
if, indeed, she were aware of Harry's distinct existence at all, until
the following unfortunate occasion. The anteroom, which was a kind of
business-place for my lady to receive her steward and tenants in, was
surrounded by shelves. I cannot call them book-shelves, though there
were many books on them; but the contents of the volumes were principally
manuscript, and relating to details connected with the Hanbury property.
There were also one or two dictionaries, gazetteers, works of reference
on the management of property; all of a very old date (the dictionary was
Bailey's, I remember; we had a great Johnson in my lady's room, but where
lexicographers differed, she generally preferred Bailey).
In this antechamber a footman generally sat, awaiting orders from my
lady; for she clung to the grand old customs, and despised any bells,
except her own little hand-bell, as modern inventions; she would have her
people always within summons of this silvery bell, or her scarce less
silvery voice. This man had not the sinecure you might imagine. He had
to reply to the private entrance; what we should call the back door in a
smaller house. As none came to the front door but my lady, and those of
the county whom she honoured by visiting, and her nearest acquaintance of
this kind lived eight miles (of bad road) off, the majority of comers
knocked at the nail-studded terrace-door; not to have it opened (for open
it stood, by my lady's orders, winter and summer, so that the snow often
drifted into the back hall, and lay there in heaps when the weather was
severe), but to summon some one to receive their message, or carry their
request to be allowed to speak to my lady. I remember it was long before
Mr. Gray could be made to understand that the great door was only open on
state occasions, and even to the last he would as soon come in by that as
the terrace entrance. I had been received there on my first setting foot
over my lady's threshold; every stranger was led in by that way the first
time they came; but after that (with the exceptions I have named) they
went round by the terrace, as it were by instinct. It was an assistance
to this instinct to be aware that from time immemorial, the magnificent
and fierce Hanbury wolf-hounds, which were extinct in every other part of
the island, had been and still were kept chained in the front quadrangle,
where they bayed through a great part of the day and night and were
always ready with their deep, savage growl at the sight of every person
and thing, excepting the man who fed them, my lady's carriage and four,
and my lady herself. It was pretty to see her small figure go up to the
great, crouching brutes thumping the flags with their heavy, wagging
tails, and slobbering in an ecstacy of delight, at her light approach and
soft caress. She had no fear of them; but she was a Hanbury born, and
the tale went, that they and their kind knew all Hanburys instantly, and
acknowledged their supremacy, ever since the ancestors of the breed had
been brought from the East by the great Sir Urian Hanbury, who lay with
his legs crossed on the altar-tomb in the church. Moreover, it was
reported that, not fifty years before, one of these dogs had eaten up a
child, which had inadvertently strayed within reach of its chain. So you
may imagine how most people preferred the terrace-door. Mr. Gray did not
seem to care for the dogs. It might be absence of mind, for I have heard
of his starting away from their sudden spring when he had unwittingly
walked within reach of their chains: but it could hardly have been
absence of mind, when one day he went right up to one of them, and patted
him in the most friendly manner, the dog meanwhile looking pleased, and
affably wagging his tail, just as if Mr. Gray had been a Hanbury. We
were all very much puzzled by this, and to this day I have not been able
to account for it.
But now let us go back to the terrace-door, and the footman sitting in
the antechamber.
One morning we heard a parleying, which rose to such a vehemence, and
lasted for so long, that my lady had to ring her hand-bell twice before
the footman heard it.
"What is the matter, John?" asked she, when he entered,
"A little boy, my lady, who says he comes from Mr. Horner, and must see
your ladyship. Impudent little lad!" (This last to himself.)
"What does he want?"
"That's just what I have asked him, my lady, but he won't tell me, please
your ladyship."
"It is, probably, some message from Mr. Horner," said Lady Ludlow, with
just a shade of annoyance in her manner; for it was against all etiquette
to send a message to her, and by such a messenger too!
"No! please your ladyship, I asked him if he had any message, and he said
no, he had none; but he must see your ladyship for all that."
"You had better show him in then, without more words," said her ladyship,
quietly, but still, as I have said, rather annoyed.
As if in mockery of the humble visitor, the footman threw open both
battants of the door, and in the opening there stood a lithe, wiry lad,
with a thick head of hair, standing out in every direction, as if stirred
by some electrical current, a short, brown face, red now from affright
and excitement, wide, resolute mouth, and bright, deep-set eyes, which
glanced keenly and rapidly round the room, as if taking in everything
(and all was new and strange), to be thought and puzzled over at some
future time. He knew enough of manners not to speak first to one above
him in rank, or else he was afraid.
"What do you want with me?" asked my lady; in so gentle a tone that it
seemed to surprise and stun him.
"An't please your ladyship?" said he, as if he had been deaf.
"You come from Mr. Horner's: why do you want to see me?" again asked she,
a little more loudly.
"An't please your ladyship, Mr. Horner was sent for all on a sudden to
Warwick this morning."
His face began to work; but he felt it, and closed his lips into a
resolute form.
"Well?"
"And he went off all on a sudden like."
"Well?"
"And he left a note for your ladyship with me, your ladyship."
"Is that all? You might have given it to the footman."
"Please your ladyship, I've clean gone and lost it."
He never took his eyes off her face. If he had not kept his look fixed,
he would have burst out crying.
"That was very careless," said my lady gently. "But I am sure you are
very sorry for it. You had better try and find it; it may have been of
consequence.
"Please, mum—please your ladyship—I can say it off by heart."
"You! What do you mean?" I was really afraid now. My lady's blue eyes
absolutely gave out light, she was so much displeased, and, moreover,
perplexed. The more reason he had for affright, the more his courage
rose. He must have seen,—so sharp a lad must have perceived her
displeasure; but he went on quickly and steadily.
"Mr. Horner, my lady, has taught me to read, write, and cast accounts, my
lady. And he was in a hurry, and he folded his paper up, but he did not
seal it; and I read it, my lady; and now, my lady, it seems like as if I
had got it off by heart;" and he went on with a high pitched voice,
saying out very loud what, I have no doubt, were the identical words of
the letter, date, signature and all: it was merely something about a
deed, which required my lady's signature.
When he had done, he stood almost as if he expected commendation for his
accurate memory.
My lady's eyes contracted till the pupils were as needle-points; it was a
way she had when much disturbed. She looked at me and said—
"Margaret Dawson, what will this world come to?" And then she was
silent.
The lad, beginning to perceive he had given deep offence, stood stock
still—as if his brave will had brought him into this presence, and
impelled him to confession, and the best amends he could make, but had
now deserted him, or was extinct, and left his body motionless, until
some one else with word or deed made him quit the room. My lady looked
again at him, and saw the frowning, dumb-foundering terror at his
misdeed, and the manner in which his confession had been received.
"My poor lad!" said she, the angry look leaving her face, "into whose
hands have you fallen?"
The boy's lips began to quiver.
"Don't you know what tree we read of in Genesis?—No! I hope you have
not got to read so easily as that." A pause. "Who has taught you to
read and write?"
"Please, my lady, I meant no harm, my lady." He was fairly blubbering,
overcome by her evident feeling of dismay and regret, the soft repression
of which was more frightening to him than any strong or violent words
would have been.
"Who taught you, I ask?"
"It were Mr. Horner's clerk who learned me, my lady."
"And did Mr. Horner know of it?"
"Yes, my lady. And I am sure I thought for to please him."
"Well! perhaps you were not to blame for that. But I wonder at Mr.
Horner. However, my boy, as you have got possession of edge-tools, you
must have some rules how to use them. Did you never hear that you were
not to open letters?"
"Please, my lady, it were open. Mr. Horner forgot for to seal it, in his
hurry to be off."
"But you must not read letters that are not intended for you. You must
never try to read any letters that are not directed to you, even if they
be open before you."
"Please, may lady, I thought it were good for practice, all as one as a
book."
My lady looked bewildered as to what way she could farther explain to him
the laws of honour as regarded letters.
"You would not listen, I am sure," said she, "to anything you were not
intended to hear?"
He hesitated for a moment, partly because he did not fully comprehend the
question. My lady repeated it. The light of intelligence came into his
eager eyes, and I could see that he was not certain if he could tell the
truth.
"Please, my lady, I always hearken when I hear folk talking secrets; but
I mean no harm."
My poor lady sighed: she was not prepared to begin a long way off in
morals. Honour was, to her, second nature, and she had never tried to
find out on what principle its laws were based. So, telling the lad that
she wished to see Mr. Horner when he returned from Warwick, she dismissed
him with a despondent look; he, meanwhile, right glad to be out of the
awful gentleness of her presence.