Whilst these things were transpiring, and a pleasant intercourse of friendship was progressing in and about Woodburn, things and feelings of a very different character were laying the foundations of future complications in the same, as yet, happy neighbourhood.
Mr. Degge had taken and furnished a cottage in Hillmartin, very near his own house, for his mother. The yet hale and cheerful woman of fifty, was much fonder of a house more resembling in size and furnishing her former humble habitation by the Castleborough meadows, than the large house of her son called Hillmartin Hall. She could not here work and get up linen, but she could spin and look after a little garden. She must have some employment: and Simon Degge knew that his mother would feel much more happy in a house of her own than in a great house, even though her son and daughter-in-law showed her every honour and all affection. She could come in and out as she pleased, and yet have a house to return to where she was mistress, and felt that everything was her own. She had one little maid-servant, and her cottage was as cheerful and pleasant as plenty and a love of neatness and order could make it. She had her little garden, and cultivated flowers, especially the old English flowers, pinks, double-daisies, daffodils, wall-flowers, polyanthuses, and the like. The roses and honeysuckles that covered her garden porch and peeped in at her windows, saw the balm-of-Gilead and egg plants and geraniums looking out at them and seeming to say, “we are all happy.”
Old Mrs. Degge, if old she could be called, had her cat and her great green-baize covered bible, and she could do with such company much better than some people can with whole crowds. Mrs. Degge—we shall distinguish her daughter-in-law as Mrs. Simon Degge—had beyond these things a source of satisfaction which, next to the happiness and prosperity of her son and his family, was the grand satisfaction of her life. Mrs. Degge was a Methodist, and was a most notable acquisition to the society at Hillmartin. There were a considerable number of Methodists in the village, but chiefly amongst the poorer class. There was no appointed preacher at the chapel, but local preachers, often working men at Castleborough, officiated there. Sometimes there came a greater gun—a round-preacher, as he was called—one appointed by Conference to preach at different places within a certain round, or district. Besides these, there were occasional amateur preachers—gentlemen, who felt it a duty to assist in preaching the gospel.
To these different labourers in the great field, there had wanted a comfortable hostel, as it were, or house where they could receive such rest and refreshment as the outer man requires, however strong and unwearied the inner man might be. Exactly such a pleasant, home-like domicile could Mrs. Degge now offer them. There the preachers could go direct, with the feeling of a welcome as sincere as it was acceptable. The poor servant of the gospel who had to foot it from the town, up the long hill, often in sweltering hot weather, often amid the snow and storms of winter, there found always a cheerful hearth, a ready cushioned arm-chair, a smiling, pious face, and a heart always ready to give the sure tokens of welcome and comfort. There they could dine and rest betwixt the morning and evening services: there they could take tea, and enjoy the company of one or other of the esteemed brethren who dropped in. There was a chamber, clean, snug, and quiet, if there were need of stopping the night. The richer brother who came on horseback knew that his horse was as welcome and would be ministered to as cordially in the stable of Mr. Degge, as he himself would be at his mother’s. Mr. Degge had assured them himself of this, and often stepped in and had a friendly chat with these apostles of the people. He told his mother that she was not to spare any expense in making her house a resort most agreeable to her friends; and Mrs. Degge, knowing that this was as genuinely said as she herself could say it, made her house the pleasant resort of the prophets of her community as much as the Shunamite woman of old did her little room on the wall to Elisha.
A class met at Mrs. Degge’s house; and at any cottage in the village where any members of the society lived, Mrs. Degge was a most welcome visitor, always ready to carry help and comfort wherever there was need, or sickness, or want of counsel. Mr. Degge not only enabled her to do all that “she found in her heart to do,” but he paid off an old debt on the chapel, for at that time of day, few country chapels of the Wesleyans were without such a debt, whatever they may now be; and he frequently contributed liberally, as well as enabling his mother to contribute liberally, to the subscriptions ever and anon called for.
But these favours to the religious friends of his mother were fresh aggravations of his offences against the fixed prejudices of the neighbouring squirearchy. Sir Roger Rockville had driven the Methodists with a high hand out of his village and beyond his domains, and here was this odious money-bag of Castleborough fostering them to the utmost of his and his old washer-woman mothers’ ability in Hillmartin almost under his nose. Every neighbouring squire sympathised with Sir Roger, and afresh denounced Simon Degge as a nuisance.
Of this feeling he had very soon a proof. In the churchyard at Hillmartin was a large brick vault, which had belonged to the family who had been years ago the owners of the house and land now purchased by Simon Degge. As this family had long been extinct, and there was ample space unoccupied in the vault, Mr. Degge proferred to purchase this vault of the vicar. This gentleman did not reside at Hillmartin but at Gotham, and preached once a week, that is, on the Sunday afternoons, at Hillmartin. Mr. Degge made his proposal for the vault, intending to arrange the leaden coffins of the old family at one end, and build a wall across in front of them, so as to leave his portion a complete vault of itself. The clergyman appeared quite willing, and said he would consider what would be a fair price. But time went on, and Mr. Degge received no answer. He applied again and again, but the vicar had not come to a decision. At length he said, on being pressed, that he was very agreeable to make over the vault to Mr. Degge, but that he found there was a little difficulty in the matter. This difficulty he did not explain, and the delay went on again for a long time. When pressed as to where this difficulty lay, he said it lay with the bishop.
Mr. Degge at once wrote to the bishop, begging for an explanation of the difficulty, and received a note from the bishop saying that he was himself quite favourable to his desire, but that there lay a little difficulty elsewhere. Mr. Degge pressed to know where, and at length learned from the bishop that it lay with the vicar. This opened his eyes; and he ceased any further application, saying he was very foolish for entering into negotiation for a vault while mother earth was ready in a most friendly manner to receive the remains of himself or of any one belonging to him. His friend, Thomas Clavering, however, on hearing of this piece of poor equivocation, told him he might build a vault, as large as he liked, in the churchyard at Cotmanhaye any day.
Another circumstance greatly embittered the minds of the squires against Mr. Degge. The difficulty which he found in procuring the conviction of a person for any offence against his property, or of defending any of his work-people or the villagers against vexatious warrants issued by one or other of these gentlemen on the suggestions of their bailiffs or keepers, induced him to desire to be made a magistrate of the county as well as the town, which he was. Sir Emanuel Clavering was willing at all times to give him his support, but then he was only one opposed to half a-dozen, or, if they chose to carry the matter to the sessions, many more. Sir Emanuel strongly recommended this step, as although it would leave him in a very slender minority, there were cases which they could deal with on their united warrants, and their influence would be felt altogether more effectual. This object was accomplished through the intervention of Lord Netherland, the Recorder of Castleborough, but to the infinite disgust of the squirearchy, of the stamp described, all round. The epithets of “pauper” and “upstart” were heard once more in every cadence of indignation. Here was this tradesman, this unabashed, irrepressible plebeian, now not only planting himself down in the very midst of them, but usurping their honourable magisterial functions, and mounting the very bench hallowed by their time-honoured dulnesses. Sir Roger Rockville was in a condition of the most deplorable effervescence.
Scarcely had this odious apparition started up amongst them, and desecrated the arena of their justiciary operations, when a circumstance occurred which startled them with a proof of the inconveniences which they had to apprehend.