CHAPTER LX.
Charge, Chester, charge!
--Marmion.
Though this was one of the first mercantile transactions
of my life, I had no doubt about acquitting myself with
reputation.
--Vicar of Wakefield.
The next morning I was at breakfast, when a packet was brought me from
Tyrrell; it contained a sealed letter to Glanville, and a brief note to
myself. The latter I transcribe:--
"My Dear Sir,
"The enclosed letter to Sir Reginald Glanville will explain my reasons
for not keeping my pledge: suffice it to state to you, that they are such
as wholly to exonerate me, and fairly to satisfy Sir Reginald. It will be
useless to call upon me; I leave town before you will receive this.
Respect for myself obliges me to add that, although there are
circumstances to forbid my meeting Sir Reginald Glanville, there are none
to prevent my demanding satisfaction of any one, whoever he may be, who
shall deem himself authorized to call my motives into question,
"I have the honour,
"John Tyrrell."
It was not till I had thrice read this letter that I could credit its
contents. From all I had seen of Tyrrell's character, I had no reason to
suspect him to be less courageous than the generality of worldly men; and
the conclusion of his letter, evidently pointed at myself, should I
venture to impugn his conduct, seemed by no means favourable to any
suspicion of his cowardice. And yet, when I considered the violent
language of Glanville's letter, and Tyrrell's apparent resolution the
night before, I scarcely knew to what more honourable motive to attribute
his conduct. However, I lost no time in despatching the whole packet to
Glanville, with a few lines from myself, saying I should call in an hour.
When I fulfilled this promise, Glanville's servant told me his master had
gone out immediately on reading the letters I had sent, and had merely
left word that he should not return home the whole day. That night he was
to have brought an important motion before the House. A message from him,
pleading sudden and alarming illness, devolved this duty upon another
member of our party. Lord Dawton was in despair; the motion was lost by a
great majority; the papers, the whole of that week, were filled with the
most triumphant abuse and ridicule of the Whigs. Never was that unhappy
and persecuted party reduced to so low an ebb: never did there seem a
fainter probability of their coming into power. They appeared almost
annihilated--a mere nominis umbra.
On the eighth day from Glanville's disappearance, a sudden event in the
cabinet threw the whole country into confusion; the Tories trembled to
the very soles of their easy slippers of sinecure and office; the eyes of
the public were turned to the Whigs; and chance seemed to effect in an
instant that change in their favour, which all their toil, trouble,
eloquence, and art, had been unable for so many years to render even a
remote probability.
But there was a strong though secret party in the state, which reminded
me of the independents in the reign of Charles the First, that, concealed
under a general name, worked only for a private end, and made a progress
in number and respectability, not the less sure for being but little
suspected. Foremost among the leaders of this party was Lord Vincent.
Dawton, who knew of their existence, and regarded them with fear and
jealousy, considered the struggle rather between them and himself, than
any longer between himself and the Tories; and strove, while it was yet
time, to reinforce himself by a body of allies, which, should the contest
really take place, might be certain of giving him the superiority. The
Marquis of Chester was among the most powerful of the neutral noblemen:
it was of the greatest importance to gain him to the cause. He was a
sturdy, sporting, independent man, who lived chiefly in the country, and
turned his ambition rather towards promoting the excellence of
quadrupeds, than the bad passions of men. To this personage Lord Dawton
implored me to be the bearer of a letter, and to aid, with all the
dexterity in my power, the purpose it was intended to effect. It was the
most consequential mission yet entrusted to me, and I felt eager to turn
my diplomatic energies to so good an account. Accordingly, one bright
morning I wrapped myself carefully in my cloak, placed my invaluable
person safely in my carriage, and set off to Chester Park, in the county
of Suffolk.
