it true. What we knew about Wicked Nick's life and death came mainly from the journal of his successor's wife, a lady almost as wordy as Queen Victoria, and every bit as virtuous. Poor Nicholas suffered a good deal in the telling, and the girl— the last of his girls—had been allowed to sink into oblivion. But the main facts were there in Emma Ashley's diaries, and were, indeed, the only interesting part of them.
Nicholas, who had adored his gentle mother, found himself, at her death, almost completely ignored by his father, and in turn bullied, deferred to, or encouraged in his growing wilfulness by a quickly changing series of tutors. What must have started as normal, healthy high spirits changed with this mishandling into wildness; and (one could read between Emma Ashley's disapproving lines) an affectionate nature, starved and repulsed, became sullen and intractable. Spoiled in the truest sense of the word, Nick Ashley had early succumbed to what his Aunt Emma called "corruption,"
though, from the veiled hints in the diaries, it was hard to gather whether this had been vice on the Gilles de Rais scale, or merely the sexual experimenting normal for a young gentleman of his time.
Nicholas' father fell ill when the young man was a few months short of twenty-two years old.
William Ashley, who was sixty-one, was thought to be dying, but was sufficiently in command of his senses to worry about who should succeed him. A marriage contract was hastily drawn up between Nicholas and the Lady Helen Colwall, younger daughter of the family then living at Ledworth Castle. It is not known what the betrothed couple thought of one another, but the very drawing up of the contract must have been a miracle of diplomacy, because— vide the virtuous Emma Ashley-Nicholas, with his father safely bedridden, was indulging himself with nightly "orgies" of illicit love.
"There's a tradition," our guide was saying, "that he used to meet them in the pavilion in the center of the maze. How they found the way in I don't know; his valet is supposed to have led them in, like girls being brought to the Grand Turk. His father must have known something about it, and there are stories of terrible quarrels, because William kept the pavilion sacred to Julia's memory, and most of his poems were written there. Well, Nicholas took it over. There are engravings showing it made over as a love nest, with a huge bed, and a big mirror let into the ceiling above it, and lots of silk curtains and shaded lamps, but I should think that was just a myth; it doesn't seem likely that Nick could have had the pavilion done up like that while William was still alive. . .
. Anyway, just a month before Nicholas was due to be married to Lady Helen, William Ashley died.
Nick had been keeping company with a girl from a nearby village, and this time he'd been a bit rash, because one of the girl's brothers was the Court gamekeeper, and on this particular night—the night after William died—the man was out after a poacher, and his brother was with him for company, when they saw their sister coming out of the maze. Well, they knew what that meant. They waited outside till Nick Ashley came out. Nobody knows what happened, whether they quarrelled with him, or just lay in wait and shot him down, but Nick Ashley was shot dead.
The brothers weren't ever caught. They took a ship from Bristol, and got clear away. The Ashley estate went to Nick's uncle —his father's brother. That was the Charles Ashley whose wife wrote the diaries."
She smiled. "And that's the only story I've got for you. It's certainly the only tragedy recorded at the Court. For a place as old as this, it's got a strange reputation for peacefulness.
There isn't even the breath of a ghost."
"Not even at the pavilion?" asked someone.
"Not that we know of. But they say that no one except the family—and of course gardeners and so on—has been there since. So perhaps the sad ghost of Wicked Nick haunts the maze
Nicholas, who had adored his gentle mother, found himself, at her death, almost completely ignored by his father, and in turn bullied, deferred to, or encouraged in his growing wilfulness by a quickly changing series of tutors. What must have started as normal, healthy high spirits changed with this mishandling into wildness; and (one could read between Emma Ashley's disapproving lines) an affectionate nature, starved and repulsed, became sullen and intractable. Spoiled in the truest sense of the word, Nick Ashley had early succumbed to what his Aunt Emma called "corruption,"
though, from the veiled hints in the diaries, it was hard to gather whether this had been vice on the Gilles de Rais scale, or merely the sexual experimenting normal for a young gentleman of his time.
Nicholas' father fell ill when the young man was a few months short of twenty-two years old.
William Ashley, who was sixty-one, was thought to be dying, but was sufficiently in command of his senses to worry about who should succeed him. A marriage contract was hastily drawn up between Nicholas and the Lady Helen Colwall, younger daughter of the family then living at Ledworth Castle. It is not known what the betrothed couple thought of one another, but the very drawing up of the contract must have been a miracle of diplomacy, because— vide the virtuous Emma Ashley-Nicholas, with his father safely bedridden, was indulging himself with nightly "orgies" of illicit love.
"There's a tradition," our guide was saying, "that he used to meet them in the pavilion in the center of the maze. How they found the way in I don't know; his valet is supposed to have led them in, like girls being brought to the Grand Turk. His father must have known something about it, and there are stories of terrible quarrels, because William kept the pavilion sacred to Julia's memory, and most of his poems were written there. Well, Nicholas took it over. There are engravings showing it made over as a love nest, with a huge bed, and a big mirror let into the ceiling above it, and lots of silk curtains and shaded lamps, but I should think that was just a myth; it doesn't seem likely that Nick could have had the pavilion done up like that while William was still alive. . .
. Anyway, just a month before Nicholas was due to be married to Lady Helen, William Ashley died.
Nick had been keeping company with a girl from a nearby village, and this time he'd been a bit rash, because one of the girl's brothers was the Court gamekeeper, and on this particular night—the night after William died—the man was out after a poacher, and his brother was with him for company, when they saw their sister coming out of the maze. Well, they knew what that meant. They waited outside till Nick Ashley came out. Nobody knows what happened, whether they quarrelled with him, or just lay in wait and shot him down, but Nick Ashley was shot dead.
The brothers weren't ever caught. They took a ship from Bristol, and got clear away. The Ashley estate went to Nick's uncle —his father's brother. That was the Charles Ashley whose wife wrote the diaries."
She smiled. "And that's the only story I've got for you. It's certainly the only tragedy recorded at the Court. For a place as old as this, it's got a strange reputation for peacefulness.
There isn't even the breath of a ghost."
"Not even at the pavilion?" asked someone.
"Not that we know of. But they say that no one except the family—and of course gardeners and so on—has been there since. So perhaps the sad ghost of Wicked Nick haunts the maze
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