Digby Heathcote: The Early Days of a Country Gentleman's Son and Heir

When they got back to the Hall the state of their dresses and their hands, which were more than usually dirty, caused some grave suspicions in the mind of Mrs Barker, the head nurse, who had to prepare them to come in to dessert, after dinner; and she was not long in ascertaining from Digby what had really occurred. She thought it very wrong in John Pratt to have assisted in such a proceeding; but he was a favourite, and she was afraid that if she made much of the matter she should bring him into trouble; she therefore merely gave Kate and Digby a lecture, and they fancied that they had escaped without any further ill result from their frolic. It happened, however, that that very evening a neighbour of Dame Marlow’s came running to the vicarage to say that the dame and her old man were both very ill, that they had something on their consciences, and that they wished to see the vicar and to disburden them.

Mr Bowdler was ever at the call of any of his poor parishioners who sent for him. Although he had but just finished his frugal dinner, and taken his books and sat down to enjoy himself after his own fashion, in communing in thought with great and good men. He rose from his seat, and said he would go immediately.

It was a fine moonlight night, and so he mounted his horse and trotted off to Mile-End. He found the old couple not nearly so ill as he expected, but still suffering very much from fear. I need not repeat in their own words what they said.

The dame confessed that she had done many wicked things, and that she had tried to impress people with a belief in her supernatural powers, though she knew that she was a weak old woman, without any power at all. At length, however, while she was endeavouring to frighten an honest man out of his senses, the spirit of evil had himself appeared down the chimney, and very nearly frightened her and her husband out of theirs. What she had sent to Mr Bowdler for was, it appeared, not so much to say how sorry she had been, but to entreat him to exorcise the evil spirit, so that he might not venture to come back again.

Mr Bowdler looked grave. He might have said that prayer, and penitence, and watchfulness, were the only preventives against the approach of the evil one. However, in the present instance, he did not like to say this. The fact was that he had become completely enlightened from what he had just heard as to the true state of the case. After taking luncheon at the Hall, he had strolled, as he had been requested to do, through the grounds. The day being very fine, and not having been before at the Mound, he hunted about till he found his way through the labyrinth, and then he climbed up to the summer-house to enjoy the view which, he had been told, could be seen from it. Just as he was leaving the building, the little imp under the table had caught his eye. He pulled out the monster, and could scarcely help indulging in a smile as he examined it. He doubted, however, whether he ought to leave it there, or carry it off; but guessing from the workmanship that young hands had formed it, and recollecting Kate and Digby’s glances at luncheon, he had little difficulty in guessing that it was the produce of their ingenuity. Had he been less of a stranger, he would, I have no doubt, have taken it away, or stopped and remonstrated with them on the impropriety of making such a figure; but he was a judicious man, and he feared that he might injure his future usefulness in the family by appearing officious. He was a man who only placed confidence in good principles. He believed that preaching against one sin, or one fault, and leaving sin in general, evil dispositions unassailed, produced no permanent effect. However, he resolved to keep his eye on his young friends, and to speak to them when he could find a favourable opportunity. He now at once discovered how the figure had been employed, though he could scarcely persuade himself that Kate and Digby alone could have carried out by themselves the drama which had evidently been enacted. He did not mention his suspicions to the old couple, but he strongly urged them to repent of their evil ways, and to resolve in future to lead better lives. He assured them that neither he nor any other mortal man had the power of exorcising evil spirits; and they were silly old people to fancy so. As to what they had seen, he did not choose to pronounce an opinion; but he told them that they ought to have stopped and examined it, and that then they would probably not have been so much frightened. He was not very well satisfied, however, with the result of his visit.

“This is a pretty prank for these young people to play,” said he to himself, as he rode home. “It is high time that Master Digby should be sent to school, and that Miss Kate should have a governess to look after her. If something is not done they will be getting into some worse scrape before long. I must try and speak to Mr Heathcote on the matter. He appears to think that they are still babies, and never seems to dream of the rapid development of their genius for mischief.”

Not long after this, Julian Langley, who had not yet been sent to school, was invited to spend a few weeks at the Hall. From what I have said it may be supposed that he was not likely to do Digby any good. Kate, from the first, could not abide him; and even John Pratt looked at him with no little suspicion. Julian was tall for his age, with a slight figure, fair, with light hair, and an inexpressive rather than a bad countenance. I believe that his was one of those characters which may be moulded without difficulty either for good or for ill, according to the hands into which they fall. Nothing would have made Julian Langley a very great man, or a very important member of society; but he might have become, by proper care and culture, useful in his generation, and religious and happy. Alas, poor fellow, how different was his lot. He could discourse very learnedly about horses and dogs, and all sporting matters; and of course Digby thought him a very fine fellow. It was not long before he led Digby into a variety of scrapes.

The first Sunday after his arrival all the family went to church. The Bloxholme pew had very high sides and curtains, and was directly in front of the pulpit, the preacher being the only person who could look directly down into it. Outside it, also facing the pulpit, there had, from time immemorial, been seats for a number of poor and old people. One of the occupants was an old man, who wore a scratch-wig; he was very deaf, also, and as he could not hear a word the vicar said, he invariably fell asleep during the sermon, and, as was often the case, if he had any cold, snored loudly.

Stephen Snookes was certainly not a nice old man, and Digby and Kate had no affection for him. People complained of his snoring; and the vicar had more than once spoken to him about the impropriety of his conduct in going to sleep during the sermon. Stephen promised to try and amend; but the next Sunday invariably committed the same fault.

Julian and Digby had sat quiet during the beginning of the sermon; but when old Snookes began to snore, they got up on their seats and looked over down upon the head of the delinquent. As it happened, they had heard, the evening before, a very sad, but very beautifully written tale, read in which the unhappy hero, in the days of his boyhood, hooks off an old man’s wig in church. Undeterred by the sad fate which ultimately befel the hero, Julian Langley was seized with a strong inclination to imitate his example. Digby also jumped at the suggestion made to him by his companion on their way home from church.

As soon as luncheon was over they hurried to Digby’s room, where they supplied themselves with a fish-hook and a line. Their eagerness to accompany the Miss Heathcotes to church in the afternoon might have created just suspicions in the minds of some of the elders of the family, but it did not; and off they set in high good humour.

Sermon time came. Old Snookes fell asleep, his loud snoring gave notice of the circumstance. Julian and Digby stood up, and the hook descended, its barbs becoming entangled in the curls of the scratch-wig. The line was then drawn tight, and the end secured to the brass rod at the top of the pew. What was the horror of Mr Bowdler, when raising his voice, to see old Snookes suddenly bob his head, when, in the sight of a large part of the congregation, off flew his wig, it seemed, and up he stood, bare-headed. Putting his hands to his bald pate, he exclaimed, “I bees bewitched, I knows I bees! Oh, where is my wig? where is my wig?”

Even Mr Bowdler, who had observed the cause which had produced this effect, had some difficulty in keeping his countenance, while I am sorry to say his congregation did very little to keep theirs. He of course felt much vexed with the conduct of the boys. The wig was drawn up rapidly to the edge of the pew, and then it fell down again to the ground, from which the old man picked it up, and, in his hurry, clapped it on again hind part before.

Mr Bowdler felt that any good effects his sermon might have produced were too likely to be obliterated, and he resolved more than ever to advise Mr Heathcote to send Digby off to school.

Neither Digby nor Kate were aware that some time before this their parents had come to the resolution of obtaining a governess who might assist Mary in her studies, and take entire charge of them and Gusty. Their mother’s health had lately become much worse, and she was utterly unfit for the task she had imposed on herself. Only the day before the arrival of the lady they were told of the arrangements that had been made. Neither of them had formed any favourable notions of governesses in general, and Julian had assured them that those he had heard of would beat and pinch them and make them sit in the stocks, and keep them in at their lessons all day, and deprive them of their dinners. Long, indeed, was the catalogue of the enormities governesses were supposed as a class to commit.

“I should like to see anyone trying on those tricks with me,” exclaimed Digby, looking very fierce, “I would soon show them what I was made of!”

“Horrid old creature, I’ll not attend to her,” said Kate, pouting. “I’ll pretend to be as dull and stupid as a sick pig. She’ll find it very difficult to knock anything into my head, let me assure her.”

“Don’t you think that we could play her some tricks, just to make her sorry she came here?” suggested Julian. “I’ll show you how to make an apple-pie bed, and we can put salt into her tumbler at dinner, and we can pretend the cat is in the room and make a terrible fuss all dinner-time, so that she will fancy we do not hear a word she says to us. There’s no end of things I can put you up to, if you will be guided by me.”

Of the truth of this assertion of Master Julian’s there could be no doubt, but how far they were to be guided well was a very different question. That did not, perhaps, occur to his auditors at the time. Kate’s innate delicacy revolted from the idea of preparing an apple-pie bed for their new governess, especially if, as she fancied, she was an old lady, and might arrive fatigued after a long journey; but Digby thought it would be very good fun, and undertook to assist Julian in carrying out his proposal. While the two boys were discussing the matter, Kate was absorbed in meditation.

“I know one thing I should like to do,” she exclaimed. “I have often thought about it. It would give her a tremendous fright, and perhaps she would pack up her things and go off again at once.”

“What is it?” exclaimed the boys in a breath, for they knew that Kate’s ideas were generally very bright; “tell us all about it.”

“Then listen,” said Kate. “In the long gallery at the top of the house there are several pictures of old gentlemen and ladies, our ancestors I believe, in full bottomed wigs and hoops, and long coats and breeches, and swords and fans – and – that is to say, the gentlemen have some, and the ladies the other articles I mention,” she added, for she saw that the boys were laughing.

“Well, go on,” they exclaimed eagerly.

“Some of the portraits have been taken down and placed leaning against the walls. Now though when they were hung up they appeared as large as life, now they are on the ground the figures do not seem to so much taller than any of us. The fancy took me as I was looking at them to cut out the eyes, and to put mine in their stead; and I couldn’t help laughing at the idea of how frightened any one would be to see the eyes rolling about, and to hear at the same time a groan or a sigh, as if the portrait had all of a sudden become animated. After the idea had once seized me, I could not rest satisfied till I had put it in part into execution. There would have been no fun merely to put my eyes through two holes, so after I had cut out the eyes of an old gentleman, our great-great-great-grandfather, I believe, with a steel cuirass on his breast, and a heavy sword in his hand, I got a looking-glass, and just at dusk last evening, I carried it up and placed it on a chair before a portrait of the old knight. Then I got behind the canvas, and put my eyes at the holes and rolled them about till I caught sight of them in the glass. I very nearly shrieked with horror – the eyes looked so natural and bright, I quite forgot they were my own. I couldn’t endure it any longer, but had to run out of the gallery without looking up at any of the portraits, for I could not help fancying that I should see them all rolling their eyes round at me.”

“How dreadful,” said Digby, shuddering. “I wonder you could stand it, Kate.”

“Oh, I had to go up again to bring away the looking-glass, and as the old gentlemen and ladies all looked very quiet and demure, I soon got over my fright.”

“What, then, do you want us to do?” asked Julian. “Depend on it we’re up to anything.”

“I will tell you,” replied Kate. “There are two big pictures I have fixed on, I will cut out the eyes, and the nose, and the mouth of each of them, I can easily fasten them in again with gum. You shall go up as soon as it is dusk, and put your faces at the holes. I will then invite the new governess, Miss Apsley, I hear is her name, to come up and inspect our ancestors, and then you can sigh and groan, and then she is certain to take fright; and I’ll run away, and she will follow, and you must then set up loud shrieks of horrid laughter; and my idea is, that she will insist on going away, thinking the house is haunted, and never wish to come near it or us again.”

“Oh, glorious, grand, magnificent!” exclaimed the boys.

The terms were not very appropriate it must be owned. Little did the elders of the family dream of the mischief the children were committing among their ancestors in the picture gallery.

The morning came on which Miss Apsley was to arrive. John Pratt had fixed that same morning for draining one of the ponds. This was an operation at which very naturally the boys were anxious to be present. There were eels innumerable, and tench and perch in the pond, that was certain, and it was believed that there were also some giant pike, which refused to be caught by any of the baits thrown to them. They had no lessons to do that morning, so at an early hour they set off in high glee at the fun they expected. Even Gusty was allowed to accompany them, and Kate was to follow shortly. It was neither of the large ponds which was to be drained, but still it was one of considerable size. Even people of greater age might have been highly interested at the prospect of seeing the long-hidden depths of the pond exposed to view. John Pratt was in all his glory, and his attendants stood obedient to his commands. The sluices were forced up after a good deal of hammering, and out rushed the water in a dense rapid current, rushing down with a loud roar through the serpentine canal into the lowest lake, whence it found its way to the river. A net had been drawn across to catch any of the larger fish who might be drawn in by the current, but generally speaking the noise and unusual commotion made them seek what they fancied would be safety in the lower depths of the pond. The water was not allowed to run off very fast lest it should commit some mischief, so the operation was a long one. At length, however, the interest increased as shoals began to appear, and here and there an astonished tench or an eel was seen struggling away through the mud to get into the clearer liquid. The boys shouted and shrieked as they saw them.

“Oh there’s another big fellow,” cried Digby; “we must have him.”

“What a whopper,” exclaimed Julian; “I’ll bet he weighs a dozen pounds at least.”

“There goes another, there’s another – there’s another – oh! what a huge eel!” were the exclamations heard on every side.

John Pratt stood calm and collected. He knew that the moment of action had not yet arrived. Landing-nets were in readiness, and so was a flat punt with eel-forks, or prongs; indeed, he had omitted nothing that would enable him to capture any of the finny tribe on which he might set his eyes. At length the wished-for moment arrived. Nearly the whole bottom of the pond was laid bare, with the exception of a hole sufficiently deep to float the punt, and a narrow channel leading to it. The exposed parts of the mud were waving in every direction with the floundering struggling fish, while innumerable eels of all sizes were wriggling about and seeking for shelter. Just then Kate came down, almost breathless, to the pond. The boys had leaped into the punt with John Pratt, and were shoving off. Their jackets, and shoes, and hats, indeed, everything but their shirts and trousers, had been thrown aside, in imitation of John and the men who were assisting. They pushed back, yielding to her petitions to take her in. The punt was very narrow, John Pratt was tall, they were all very eager. The fish swarmed around them; some they took up with the landing-nets, the big eels John forked with his prong, the tench and perch they caught with their hands; the other men were wading about with landing-nets, putting the fish into buckets, to transfer them alive to another pond while this was being cleansed. The water still kept running off, and more and more fish appeared. The boys and Kate shrieked again and again with delight. Their eagerness increased. John was aiming his prong at a large eel, the young party all leaned over on the same side, not seeing that the other edge of the punt was on the mud. The bottom was slippery with the slime of the tench and eels, John’s foot slid away – in an instant over went the punt, and let them all out into the water and mud. At first Kate was frightened and shrieked, and Digby was alarmed on account of her and little Gusty, but he only laughed, and they soon found that there was very little water there, and that the bottom was hard, and so they thought it very good fun, and refused to get into the punt again. Away they went, floundering about in chase of the fish, covered from head to feet with mud, but thinking it very good fun. Digby’s fear was lest some big pike should catch hold of Gusty. He himself had a desperate tussle with a big fellow, which would have got away, or, perhaps, bit him, had not John Pratt come to his assistance. Certainly very curious figures were the four children, and no one would have supposed that they were the descendants of long lines of well-born, proud ancestors.

Scarcely had Kate left the house, when the expectant governess, Miss Apsley, arrived. After she had taken luncheon, as she was not tired with her journey, Mrs Heathcote invited her to take a stroll through the grounds to the ponds.

“We shall find the children there, and you will be able to observe them without being remarked,” said Mrs Heathcote. “I hope that you will think well of them, for they are, I believe, as well-behaved, tractable children as any in the county. Digby is a dear good boy, and Kate is a clever little thing, though slightly hoydenish I own, but every one may see at a glance that she is a perfect little lady as Digby is a gentleman. You will find no difficulty in managing them.”

Mrs Heathcote spoke with the pardonable pride of a mother. She was much pleased with the new governess, and wished to impress her with a favourable opinion of her children.

Miss Apsley, who was a very sensible, ladylike, right-minded person, thought that she should like Mrs Heathcote, and was congratulating herself on having such nice well-behaved little children placed under her charge. Engaged in pleasant conversation the two ladies drew near the ponds. Shouts and shrieks reached their ears, and expressions anything but refined, which Mrs Heathcote fancied must be uttered by some groom boys, or young gipsies, were heard. When they got in sight of the pond they both stood aghast. There were the children, on whom their mother had just been passing so warm an eulogium, covered from head to foot with black mud, shouting and bawling as they ran after the fish – the refined little ladylike Kate being in no better condition than her brothers, while Julian Langley, having in his eagerness thrown off all restraint, was shouting and swearing, and using expressions which would disgrace the lips of any but the most ignorant heathens.

Poor Mrs Heathcote was horrified. For some time so eager were the children that they did not perceive her. Kate was the first to see her mother and the strange lady, as she was chasing a big eel close up to where they were standing.

“Oh, mamma, the punt upset and we tumbled in and got all muddy, and so I thought that it was a pity to come out, and it is such fun,” she exclaimed, making a grab at the eel, and not thinking it at all necessary to appear ashamed of herself.

She probably was not aware of the very odd figure she, appeared. Miss Apsley smiled, but said nothing.

Poor little Gusty next came up, with his pockets full of the smaller fish he had managed to catch hold of. Digby was too much engaged to see anything but the fish he was chasing. Away he went, as indifferent to the dirt as any mud-larker on the banks of the Thames, floundering away after the fish, and throwing them as he caught them into the pails and baskets prepared for their reception.

“They seem to enjoy the amusement,” observed Miss Apsley at length; “I hope they will not catch cold.”

Mrs Heathcote was pleased that she did not speak in a satirical tone. She thought, however, that it was high time that the amusement should come to an end, so she desired Kate and Gusty to come out of the pond, and directed John Pratt, who at length caught sight of his mistress, to tell the other boys that she wanted them. John could not help feeling that the young people who had been entrusted to his charge were not in a very presentable condition, so he thought that he ought to make the best apology in his power.

“They bees very like young frogs, I does own, Mrs Heathcote, marm,” said he; “but they does take to it so kindly loike, I couldn’t find it in my heart to prevent them.”

I feel that I cannot do justice to worthy John’s peculiar provincial phraseology. Mrs Heathcote smiled. She did not think that John had paid her children any very great compliment. At last Digby and Julian came forth from the mud, without a single white spot about them – hands and face, and hair and clothes, all covered with mud. They were not at all pleased at being told to go into the house to be cleansed, for they were not nearly tired of their sport, but Mrs Heathcote was afraid of Digby’s catching cold, and was firm, though they pleaded hard to be allowed to remain.

“There mamma, there, see that huge pike,” exclaimed Digby, about to dart back again; “he’s one of the giant fellows we have been looking for all along, and thought he must have got out somewhere. I wonder you don’t feel inclined to jump in after him. There, they’ve caught him; he must be thirty pounds weight.”

Mrs Heathcote fairly laughed at the idea of her rushing into the mud in chase of a pike, but still Digby had to accompany her home. Whatever might have been his other delinquencies, he never had disobeyed her expressed wishes, for he loved her dearly. He and Julian, however, as they followed a little way behind, looked at the strange lady and thought that she had, in some way or other, something to do with their being called in. She was so ladylike and young, and nice-looking, and so different from what they had fancied the new governess was to be, that they never suspected that she was the awful and dreaded Miss Apsley.

Great was the dismay of Mrs Barker when the mud-besprinkled, or rather mud-covered children, made their appearance. Mrs Carter was summoned to give her assistance, and much soap and many tubs of hot-water were used before they were at all in their usual presentable condition. They scolded them much more severely than their mother had done. Poor little Gusty cried, and could not help fancying that he had been very naughty. When also Digby and Kate found that the lady with their mother was the new governess, and that it was owing to her arrival that they had been compelled to come in thus early, their hearts, in spite of her kind manner and nice looks, hardened towards her, and, instigated by Julian, they resolved to put into execution the plan which Kate had concocted. Mr Heathcote dined out that day, so the parlour dinner was soon over. Mrs Heathcote was fatigued, so lay down on the sofa and fell asleep. The boys had disappeared. The summer evening was drawing to a close. Now or never was the time. Kate had scarcely seen Miss Apsley.