A Group of Noble Dames. Thomas Hardy

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      Published by Good Press, 2019

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      EAN 4057664638687

Table of Contents

       PREFACE

       DAME THE FIRST—THE FIRST COUNTESS OF WESSEX By the Local Historian

       DAME THE SECOND—BARBARA OF THE HOUSE OF GREBE By the Old Surgeon

       DAME THE THIRD—THE MARCHIONESS OF STONEHENGE By the Rural Dean

       DAME THE FOURTH—LADY MOTTISFONT By the Sentimental Member

       DAME THE FIFTH—THE LADY ICENWAY By the Churchwarden

       DAME THE SIXTH—SQUIRE PETRICK’S LADY By the Crimson Maltster

       DAME THE SEVENTH—ANNA, LADY BAXBY By the Colonel

       DAME THE EIGHTH—THE LADY PENELOPE By the Man of Family

       DAME THE NINTH—THE DUCHESS OF HAMPTONSHIRE By the Quiet Gentleman

       DAME THE TENTH—THE HONOURABLE LAURA By the Spark

PREFACE

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      The pedigrees of our county families, arranged in diagrams on the pages of county histories, mostly appear at first sight to be as barren of any touch of nature as a table of logarithms. But given a clue—the faintest tradition of what went on behind the scenes, and this dryness as of dust may be transformed into a palpitating drama. More, the careful comparison of dates alone—that of birth with marriage, of marriage with death, of one marriage, birth, or death with a kindred marriage, birth, or death—will often effect the same transformation, and anybody practised in raising images from such genealogies finds himself unconsciously filling into the framework the motives, passions, and personal qualities which would appear to be the single explanation possible of some extraordinary conjunction in times, events, and personages that occasionally marks these reticent family records.

      Out of such pedigrees and supplementary material most of the following stories have arisen and taken shape.

      I would make this preface an opportunity of expressing my sense of the courtesy and kindness of several bright-eyed Noble Dames yet in the flesh, who, since the first publication of these tales in periodicals, six or seven years ago, have given me interesting comments and conjectures on such of the narratives as they have recognized to be connected with their own families, residences, or traditions; in which they have shown a truly philosophic absence of prejudice in their regard of those incidents whose relation has tended more distinctly to dramatize than to eulogize their ancestors. The outlines they have also given of other singular events in their family histories for use in a second “Group of Noble Dames,” will, I fear, never reach the printing-press through me; but I shall store them up in memory of my informants’ good nature.

      T. H.

      June 1896.

DAME THE FIRST—THE FIRST COUNTESS OF WESSEX

       By the Local Historian

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      King’s-Hintock Court (said the narrator, turning over his memoranda for reference)—King’s-Hintock Court is, as we know, one of the most imposing of the mansions that overlook our beautiful Blackmoor or Blakemore Vale. On the particular occasion of which I have to speak this building stood, as it had often stood before, in the perfect silence of a calm clear night, lighted only by the cold shine of the stars. The season was winter, in days long ago, the last century having run but little more than a third of its length. North, south, and west, not a casement was unfastened, not a curtain undrawn; eastward, one window on the upper floor was open, and a girl of twelve or thirteen was leaning over the sill. That she had not taken up the position for purposes of observation was apparent at a glance, for she kept her eyes covered with her hands.

      The room occupied by the girl was an inner one of a suite, to be reached only by passing through a large bedchamber adjoining. From this apartment voices in altercation were audible, everything else in the building being so still. It was to avoid listening to these voices that the girl had left her little cot, thrown a cloak round her head and shoulders, and stretched into the night air.

      But she could not escape the conversation, try as she would. The words reached her in all their painfulness, one sentence in masculine tones, those of her father, being repeated many times.

      ‘I tell ’ee there shall be no such betrothal! I tell ’ee there sha’n’t! A child like her!’

      She knew the subject of dispute to be herself. A cool feminine voice, her mother’s, replied:

      ‘Have done with you, and be wise. He is willing to wait a good five or six years before the marriage takes place, and there’s not a man in the county to compare with him.’

      ‘It shall not be! He is over thirty. It is wickedness.’

      ‘He is just thirty, and the best and finest man alive—a perfect match for her.’

      ‘He is poor!’

      ‘But his father and elder brothers are made much of at Court—none so constantly at the palace as they; and with her fortune, who knows? He may be able to get a barony.’

      ‘I believe you are in love with en yourself!’

      ‘How can you insult me so, Thomas! And is it not monstrous for you to talk of my wickedness when you have a like scheme in your own head? You know you have. Some bumpkin of your own choosing—some petty gentleman who lives down at that outlandish place of yours, Falls-Park—one of your pot-companions’ sons—’

      There was an outburst of imprecation on the part of her СКАЧАТЬ