Henry Smeaton: A Jacobite Story of the Reign of George the First.

by G. P. R. James

The hurry and confusion of a rapid departure had many additions in Smeaton's case. What was to be done with good Van Noost, was not the least consideration. When notice of the approach of troops towards Ale Manor had been first received in the village, the statuary instantly hid himself, no one knew where; but now he had re-appeared upon the scene, and the young nobleman could not bear the thought of leaving him behind for the consequences of his own indiscretion. The appearance of a ship before Ale Harbour, which had thrown the whole village into a state of commotion, prevented the possibility of Van Noost's escape by sea, and rendered the necessity the greater of all suspected persons hastening their departure without delay. The fishermen anticipated that the ship's boats would enter the harbour every moment; and they seemed to regard the landing of a number of seamen with much greater apprehension than an attack by a party of soldiers. They showed no inclination to abandon their friends, however; but at the same time eagerly assisted in all preparations which were necessary to put them beyond the reach of this new danger.

The horses were brought to the village with great rapidity; the baggage was packed and loaded without delay; and, as Van Noost's fat pony was lost to his affectionate master for ever, a stout farmer's nag was procured for him, on whose broad back the little round man was placed like a plum-pudding on a trencher. Still the man who had been set to watch on the beach of the bay, and at the top of Ale Head, brought no intelligence of any movement on board the ship to create alarm, and all was quiet when the party of fugitives, consisting of Smeaton and Richard Newark, with Van Noost and two servants, rode away towards Keanton, where they arrived without interruption. There, for a time, I must leave them, to take up their history at an after period.

CHAPTER XXIX.

Considering the period of the year, which was only the end of September, the day was cold and wintry, when a party, consisting of some sixteen horse, took their way through one of the remote districts of Northumberland. The sky was covered with a film of grey cloud, and the wind, keen and chilling, as if loaded with hail or snow, swept over the bleak hills and moors.

Northumberland was, at that time, from many local causes, far behind the rest of England in point of cultivation and numbers. Remote from the capital either of England or Scotland, and holding but very scanty communication with the rest of Europe, the power and authority of government was less felt and acknowledged in the great northern county than elsewhere; old thoughts and habits clung to the inhabitants with greater tenacity; news circulated less freely, and men were more under the influence of the great proprietors than perhaps in any other English shire. The party of horse, therefore, which I have mentioned, and which was headed, as the reader may suppose, by the young Earl of Eskdale and Richard Newark, not only passed unquestioned through a district where a great majority of the people were attached to the Stuart cause, but were received in the small towns and villages with much cordiality, as soon as it was perceived that they were not soldiers of the House of Hanover. The Northumberland man has a certain degree of northern cautiousness about him; but he is by no means without the merry English spirit, and a good portion of wit. Few inquiries were made of the travellers as to the end and object of their journey; but a sly and jesting allusion was often ventured to the cause of the exiled king, and every information was given voluntarily regarding the insurrectionary movements in Scotland, and the general feelings of the people of the county itself.

The report, which had reached the west, of Forster and others being in arms in Northumberland, proved to have been greatly premature, and Smeaton now found that nothing was certain as to the proceedings of the malcontents and the government, except that warrants were out for the arrest of the Earl of Derwentwater, and Forster of Ramborough, member for the county, together with several other persons of less note, and that the Earl and his companion, with several of their friends, were closely concealed.

The situation of the young Earl of Eskdale was peculiar; but his being placed in it had been brought about by circumstances which affected many at that period, and led them unwillingly to actions which they did not at first contemplate, and into a position which they had anxiously striven to avoid. A hundred instances of noblemen and gentlemen could be cited, who were led on, little by little, from a mere abstract feeling of loyalty and attachment towards the exiled house of Stuart, to a complete and sometimes furious enthusiasm in their cause, to an active part in insurrection, and to their own utter destruction. Such was not altogether the case with Smeaton; but it must be acknowledged that, before he reached Northumberland, his feelings and views were very greatly altered. The zeal and eagerness of all those by whom he was surrounded of course had their effect.

Few men--perhaps no young man--can prevent himself from being altogether infected by the enthusiasm of others, especially if no antidote be at hand, and certain it is that the young nobleman was inclined to look more favourably upon the conduct of the exiled princes, to make more allowance for their faults, and to regard their cause more hopefully, than he had been when we first saw him in London. Moreover, the treatment which he had received in Devonshire, the evident determination of the local authorities, if not of the government, to molest and persecute him, notwithstanding the strong assurances he had received from Lord Stair, and the contemptuous silence with which, as it appeared, that nobleman had treated his letters, irritated him greatly against the House of Hanover. It was certain, he thought, that one at least of those letters must have reached the hands for which both were intended, although the second, perhaps, might not have arrived in London before the Earl had taken his departure from the capital. Why had he neglected to reply? Was he inclined to violate his plighted word, or to connive at its violation by others? Or had he suffered his mind to be warped by false reports? and, if he had, was he justified in so doing before stronger proof was adduced than any which Smeaton imagined could have been furnished by his enemies?

"I have kept my word to the letter," said the young nobleman, to himself; "but I cannot bear this much longer. If they will drive me into insurrection, it is not my fault. But I will yet make one more effort for an explanation; and if that fails, I and they must abide the consequence."

A sigh followed the conclusion of this train of thought; for a moment's reflection showed him, notwithstanding some new-lighted hopes, where the evil consequences of the course, along which he was being hurried, were most likely to fall. It is true, he had not committed himself in any degree, either with Richard Newark, or with the farmers and stout yeomen who had accompanied or followed him from Keanton: Although he suffered them to join his party--for he could hardly refuse to do so after they had placed themselves in a dangerous situation on his account--he told them from the first that he had pledged himself to the Earl of Stair to take no part in any of the political movements that were going on, if suffered to remain quietly in England for a short period.