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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/39326-8.txt b/39326-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9b093df --- /dev/null +++ b/39326-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16337 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The History of Margaret Catchpole, by Richard Cobbold + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: The History of Margaret Catchpole + A Suffolk Girl + +Author: Richard Cobbold + +Release Date: April 1, 2012 [EBook #39326] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORY OF MARGARET CATCHPOLE *** + + + + +Produced by Tor Martin Kristiansen, KD Weeks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: + +Please visit the Notes at the end of this text for details of any +corrections made during the preparation of this text. Italics in the +original are indicated here as _italics_. + + + + + The World's Classics + + + CXIX + + MARGARET CATCHPOLE + + BY + + RICHARD COBBOLD + + + + + OXFORD: HORACE HART + + PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY + + [Illustration] + + + + + [Illustration] + + HISTORY OF + MARGARET + CATCHPOLE + + BY + + RICHARD COBBOLD + + + + + THE HISTORY OF + MARGARET CATCHPOLE + + A SUFFOLK GIRL + + BY + RICHARD COBBOLD + + WITH AN INTRODUCTION + BY CLEMENT SHORTER + + [Illustration] + + HENRY FROWDE + OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS + LONDON, NEW YORK, TORONTO AND MELBOURNE + + + + + Richard Cobbold + + + + + Born, Ipswich 1797 + Died January 5, 1877 + +_'Margaret Catchpole' was first published in 1845. In 'The World's +Classics' it was first published in 1907 and reprinted in 1912._ + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +Three personalities interest us in reading the novel of _Margaret +Catchpole_--the author, the heroine, and the author's mother, in whose +service the real Margaret Catchpole was employed. Neither the author nor +his mother has been the subject of much biographical effort, although +Richard Cobbold was an industrious novelist, poet, and essayist for a +long period of years, and wrote this one book that will always, I think, +be read. His mother, Elizabeth Cobbold, made some reputation as a writer +of verse, and is immortalized for us in Charles Dickens's Mrs. Leo +Hunter. Fortunately we have a sketch of her by one Laetitia Jermyn, +dated 1825, and attached to a volume of _Poems_, published at Ipswich in +that year.[1] Laetitia Jermyn tells us that Elizabeth's maiden name was +Knipe, and that she was born in Watling Street, London, about 1764, her +father being Robert Knipe of Liverpool. In 1787 she published a little +volume of verse entitled _Six Narrative Poems_, which she dedicated to +Sir Joshua Reynolds, evidently by permission. It is clear that in +girlhood she had made the acquaintance of the great painter. Her +biographer says nothing about her being an actress, but it is a +tradition in Ipswich that this was for a time her profession. In 1790 +she was married at Liverpool to William Clarke, a Portman of the +borough and Comptroller of the Customs of Ipswich, who was apparently +about sixty years of age and in very delicate health. The sprightly +young wife wrote the following lines to her husband on St. Valentine's +Day, soon after their marriage:-- + + Eliza to William this Valentine sends, + While ev'ry good wish on the present attends; + And freely she writes, undisturb'd by a fear, + Tho' prudes may look scornful, and libertines sneer. + Tho' tatlers and tale-bearers smiling may say, + "Your Geniuses always are out of the way," + Sure none but herself would such levities mix, + With the seriousness suited to grave twenty-six. + A Wife send a Valentine! Lord, what a whim! + And then of all people to send it to him! + Make love to her husband! my stars, how romantic! + The Girl must be certainly foolish or frantic; + But I always have thought so, else what could engage + Her to marry a man who is twice her own age? + While the tabbies are thus on my motives enlarging, + My sentiments William may read in the margin. + + On the wings of old Time have three months past away + Since I promis'd "to honour, to love, and obey," + And surely my William's own heart will allow + That my conduct has ne'er disagreed with my vow. + Would health spread her wings round my husband and lord, + To his cheeks could the smiles of delight be restor'd; + The blessing with gratitude I should receive, + As the greatest that Mercy benignant could give; + And heedless of all that conjecture may say, + With praise would remember St. Valentine's day. + +I quote this valentine at length because it is a fair sample of the +quality of our poet's efforts. At the end of the eighteenth century, and +far into the nineteenth, a rhyming faculty of this kind was quite +sufficient to make a literary reputation in an English provincial town, +and in the case of Mrs. Clarke it was followed up by the writing of a +novel, _The Sword_, published at Liverpool in 1791. It is interesting to +find the name of Roscoe the historian among the subscribers for this +book. In the same year--within six months of her marriage--the writer +lost her husband. + +The interest of Elizabeth Knipe's life, however, begins for us when very +shortly after this she became the wife of John Cobbold, of the Cliff +Brewery, Ipswich. Cobbold was a widower. He had already had sixteen +children, of whom fourteen were then living. When it is remembered that +by his second wife he had six more children it will be seen that there +was a large family, and it is not surprising therefore that the Cobbold +name is still very much in evidence in Norfolk and Suffolk, and +particularly in Ipswich. "Placed in the bosom of this numerous family", +writes her biographer, "and indulged in the means of gratifying her +benevolent and liberal spirit, 'The Cliff' became the home of her +dearest affections, the residence of taste, and the scene of +hospitality." One need not complain of the lady that she was not very +much of a poet, for she had otherwise a versatile character. In addition +to being, as we are assured, a good housekeeper, she was, if her +self-portraiture be accepted, a worker in many fields:-- + + A botanist one day, or grave antiquarian, + Next morning a sempstress, or abecedarian; + Now making a frock, and now marring a picture, + Next conning a deep, philosophical lecture; + At night at the play, or assisting to kill + The time of the idlers with whist or quadrille; + In cares or amusements still taking a part, + Though science and friendship are nearest my heart. + +Laetitia Jermyn tells us much about her charity and kindness of heart, +her zeal in behalf of many movements to help the poor, and she dwells +with enthusiasm upon her friend's literary achievements.[2] But the +scope of this Introduction to her son's book does not justify devoting +more attention to the mother, although her frequent appearance in +Margaret Catchpole's partially true story demands that something be said +about her "mistress". Elizabeth Cobbold died in 1824. Her husband +outlived her for eleven years. John Cobbold (1746-1835) traced back his +family in the direct line as landowners in Suffolk to a Robert Cobbold, +who died in 1603. He was a banker as well as a brewer, and lived first +at "The Cliff" and afterwards at "Holywells", which has ever since been +the seat of the head of the family. It was the fourteenth child of his +first marriage--Henry Gallant Cobbold--who was saved from drowning by +Margaret Catchpole. + +It was Richard Cobbold, one of the six sons of the second marriage of +John Cobbold, who was the author of this story. When he was born he had +ten nephews and nieces awaiting him, the children of his brothers and +sisters of the first family, and he was at school with his own nephew, +who was just a fortnight younger than himself. The nephew was John +Chevallier Cobbold, who for twenty-one years represented Ipswich in +Parliament. For this information I am indebted to a grandson[3], who +also sends me the following anecdotes:-- + + When John Cobbold--the father of twenty-two children--was High + Sheriff, he once persuaded the Judge to come to dine with him on + condition that there should be no one to meet him except his (J. + C.'s) own family. When the Judge was shown into a drawing-room full + of people, he was very angry, and said loudly before the company, + "Mr. Cobbold, you have deceived me." Explanations followed, and the + Judge was introduced to the various members of the family. + + Elizabeth Cobbold was in the habit of saying that when she married + her husband she found no books in the house except Bibles and + account-books. + + Brewing was such good business in those days that John Cobbold was + able to give to each of his two youngest sons (twenty-first and + twenty-second children) a University education, and to buy for each + of them a church living worth £1,000 a year. + +Richard Cobbold was educated at Bury St. Edmunds and at Caius College, +Cambridge, was destined for the Church, and when he married he was a +curate in Ipswich[4], but his father obtained for him the living of +Wortham, near Diss, where he was Rector from 1825 until his death in +1877. He was also rural dean of Hartismere. Several years after +celebrating his golden wedding--Dr. Spencer Cobbold informs me--he and +his wife died within a day or two of each other; the survivor did not +know the other was gone; both were buried at the same time. Of the three +sons who survived, one became Rector of Hollesley, another was the +father of the well-known amateur footballer, W. N. Cobbold, and the +third was the Fellow of the Royal Society, to whom I have already +referred, and to whose son I am indebted for so many interesting facts. + +That Richard Cobbold was not particularly honoured in his own country +may be gathered from many quarters. One writer speaks of his "little +vanities, his amusing egotisms, and his good natured pomposity". It was +clearly not Suffolk that helped to make his fame, if we may accept one +of the few printed references to him that I have been able to find:-- + + I confess I never knew a Suffolk man at home or abroad who would + take any pride in being the fellow countryman of this clerical + novel-writer; but in different parts of England I have seen reason + to believe that our division of the eastern counties has a place in + the minds of many thousands of people only by reason of the Rev. + Richard Cobbold and his works, that the ancient town of Ipswich, + which we hail from as if it were a niche in the temple of fame, has + never been heard of except as the scene of some of the chief + adventures of Margaret Catchpole.[5] + +Other books are assigned to our author in the catalogues, but I doubt if +one of them survives other than _Margaret Catchpole_, which not only +survives, but is really a classic in its way. One story, indeed, +_Freston Tower_, held the public for a time almost as well as the +present book, but I imagine it has ceased to command the attention even +of the most remote village library, where indeed it was long ago worn +threadbare.[6] Essentially our author is a man of one book, and many +adventitious circumstances helped him here. It was no small thing that +the heroine should actually have been a native of the very district in +which the writer lived. She was not merely a vivid tradition of his +boyhood, but had been in the service of his mother and had stolen from +his father the horse that gave her so unpleasant a notoriety. Here was +a romance ready to hand, which needed but to be set down in passably +good writing to attract attention. It might have been worse written than +it was by this worthy clergyman and would still have secured readers. +How much is truth and how much is fiction in the story will never be +known. If Mr. Cobbold had an abundance of documents about this girl +Margaret Catchpole and her affairs, inherited from his parents, he must +have destroyed them. He claims in the course of the story that, as +Margaret three times saved the life of a member of Mr. Cobbold's family, +it is not surprising that the records of her life should be so strictly +preserved among them. But these records do not appear to exist any +longer. It is doubtful if they ever did exist. The author probably +worked from family traditions rather than from documents. He possessed, +in addition, a genuine imaginative faculty. + +Such documents as do exist do not amount to enough to justify the +author's declaration that here is "a perfectly true narrative". Mr. +Frank Woolnough, of Ipswich[7], courteously informs me that a letter by +Margaret Catchpole, written only a few days before she sailed to +Australia, and the lyre bird that she sent to her mistress about a year +after her arrival, are the two curiosities of the Museum most eagerly +inquired after by strangers. Here is the letter in question:-- + + ipswich May 25th 1801 + honred madam + + i am sorrey i have to inform you this Bad newes that i am going + away on wedensday next or thursday at the Longest so i hav taken + the Liberty my good Ladey of trobling you with a few Lines as it + will Be the Larst time i ever shall trobell you in this sorrofoll + Confinement my sorrows are very grat to think i must Be Banished + out of my owen Countreay and from all my Dearest friendes for ever + it is very hard inded for any one to think on it and much moor for + me to enduer the hardship of it honred madam i should Be very + happey to see you on tuesday Befor i Leve englent if it is not to + much trobbell for you for i am in grat confushon my self now my + sorrowes are dobbled i must humbly Beg on your Goodness to Consider + me a Littell trifell of monney it wold Be a very Grat Comfort to + your poor + + unhappy searvent + Margreat Catchpole + +How small a matter a sentence of death for horse-stealing was counted in +the closing years of the eighteenth century may be gathered from the +fact that the contemporary newspaper report of 1797 runs only to five +lines, as follows:-- + + "Margaret Catchpole, for stealing a coach horse, belonging to John + Cobbold, Esq., of Ipswich (with whom she formerly lived as a + servant), which she rode from thence to London in about 10 hours, + dressed in man's apparel, and having there offered it for sale was + detected." + +Undoubtedly one of the characteristics of the book that give it so +permanent a place in literature is the circumstance that it preserves +for us a glimpse of the cruel criminal law of the eighteenth century. +Hanging for small offences went on for years after this, until, indeed, +public opinion was revolted by the case of the young married woman who +in Ludgate Hill lifted a piece of cloth from the counter. She hesitated +and then put it down again. But she had been seen, and was arrested, +tried, condemned, and hanged, although it was clearly proved that her +husband had been seized by a press-gang and that her babe cried for +bread. After this time came a reaction against the death penalty for +theft. Margaret, then, was more fortunate than that unhappy woman and +than the more celebrated Deacon Brodie, who was hanged in Edinburgh, the +city which he had adorned as a Councillor, for a house-breaking theft +which brought him four pounds or less. She doubtless owed her escape to +the powerful influence of the Cobbolds.[8] + +_Margaret Catchpole_ is the classic novel of Suffolk. That county of +soothing landscape and bracing sea has produced greater books; it has +given us more interesting authors than Richard Cobbold. Within its +borders were written the many fine poems of George Crabbe, the many +attractive letters of Edward Fitz Gerald. The remarkable paraphrase from +the Persian known to all the English speaking world as _The Rubáiyát of +Omar Khayyám_ was composed here. But, although many latter-day novelists +have laid their scenes in these pleasant places, made memorable by the +art of Constable, not one has secured so fascinating a topic or so +world-wide an audience. Margaret Catchpole is one of the few heroines of +fiction of whom one loves to remember that she was real flesh and blood. + + CLEMENT SHORTER. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: _Poems by Mrs. Elizabeth Cobbold, with a Memoir of the +Author._ Ipswich: Printed and sold by J. Raw in the Butter Market, +1825.] + +[Footnote 2: The three most talked of books by Elizabeth Cobbold +were:--_The Mince Pye_, an Heroic Epistle, humbly addressed to the +Sovereign Dainty of a British Feast, by Caroline Petty Pasty, 1800. +_Cliff Valentines_, 1813. _An Ode to the Victory of Waterloo_, 1815. The +suggestion is made in the _Dictionary of National Biography_ that she +was descended on the mother's side from Edmund Waller the poet, but this +is exceedingly improbable.] + +[Footnote 3: Dr. Spencer Cobbold, of Batheston, Somerset, a grandson of +Richard Cobbold, and the son of T. Spencer Cobbold, M.D. (1828-1886), +the distinguished helminthologist, who was the youngest F.R.S. of his +day. He had made some original investigations concerning Entozoa, and +was the author of many books on "Parasites" and kindred subjects.] + +[Footnote 4: At the Tower Church. He lived at St. Margaret's Green.] + +[Footnote 5: _Public Men of Ipswich and East Suffolk_, by Richard +Gowing. Ipswich: W. J. Scopes, 1875.] + +[Footnote 6: The following books by Richard Cobbold are in the British +Museum Library:-- + + _Valentine Verses, or Lines of Truth, Love, and Virtue_ 1827 + + _A Sermon on Matthew xiv_ 1829 + + _The Spirit of the Litany of the Church of England._ + A Poem 1833 + + _The History of Margaret Catchpole, a Suffolk Girl._ + 2 vols. 1845 + + _Mary Anne Wellington. A Soldier's Daughter, + Wife and Widow._ 3 vols. 1846 + + _Zenon the Martyr._ 3 vols. 1847 + + _The Young Man's Home, or The Penitent's Return_ 1848 + + _The Character of Woman._ A Lecture 1848 + + _A Voice from the Mount_ 1848 + + _A Sermon on Genesis i. 3_ 1849 + + _Conversations between J. Rye and Mr. Parr_ 1848 + + _The Comforter, or Short Addresses from the Book of + Job_ 1850 + + _A Father's Legacy._ The Proverbs of Solomon in + Prose and Verse 1850 + + _Freston Tower, or The Early Days of Cardinal + Wolsey._ 3 vols. 1850 + + _Courtland_: a Novel. By the Daughter of Mary + Anne Wellington. 3 vols. 1852 + + _The Union Child's Belief_ 1855 + + _J. H. Steggall. A Real History of a Suffolk Man_ 1857 + + _Canticles of Life_ 1858 +] + +[Footnote 7: The Secretary of the Borough of Ipswich Museum and Free +Library.] + +[Footnote 8: The punishment of death for horse-stealing was abolished in +1832, but in 1833 a little boy of nine who pushed a stick through a +cracked window and pulled out some painters' colours worth twopence was +sentenced to death. Since 1838 no person has been hanged in England for +any offence other than murder. See Spencer Walpole's _History of England +from the Conclusion of the Great War in 1815_.] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + DEDICATION xvii + + AUTHOR'S PREFACE xix + + CHAPTER + + I. EARLY SCENES 1 + + II. THE TEMPTATION 26 + + III. MISFORTUNES 34 + + IV. DECEIT 47 + + V. WILD SCENES 56 + + VI. HARVEST-HOME 71 + + VII. THE CONFLICT 83 + + VIII. DISAPPOINTMENT 100 + + IX. EVIL WAYS 115 + + X. THE PARTING 120 + + XI. THE LAST INTERVIEW 131 + + XII. THE WELCOME VISIT 137 + + XIII. POVERTY AND PRIDE 152 + + XIV. A CHEERFUL CHANGE 166 + + XV. THE NEW PLACE 175 + + XVI. BRIGHT HOPES 187 + + XVII. ALTERCATION AND EXPLANATION 191 + + XVIII. THE RECONCILIATION 197 + + XIX. THE ALTERATION 206 + + XX. CHANGE OF SCENE AND CHANGE OF PLACE 219 + + XXI. GUILT AND CRIME 244 + + XXII. PREPARATION FOR TRIAL 268 + + XXIII. TRIAL AND CONDEMNATION TO DEATH 277 + + XXIV. THE REPRIEVE AND REMOVAL 290 + + XXV. THE ESCAPE 297 + + XXVI. PURSUIT AND CAPTURE 309 + + XXVII. SECOND TRIAL, AND SECOND TIME + CONDEMNED TO DEATH 317 + + XXVIII. TRANSPORTATION 338 + + XXIX. BANISHMENT 351 + + XXX. REPENTANCE AND AMENDMENT 370 + + XXXI. CONCLUSION 407 + + SUPPLEMENT BY THE AUTHOR, A.D. 1858 413 + + + + + TO + + THE MARCHIONESS OF CORNWALLIS + + + Most Noble Lady, + + Assured that this simple narrative, the most remarkable events of + which are still fresh in your Ladyship's memory, will be found far + more interesting to the public than many highly-wrought works of + fiction, and that to none will it prove more acceptable than to + your Ladyship, who for many years resided in this county, beloved + and respected by all who knew you, for the encouragement you + afforded to every amiable virtue; to you it is dedicated, with + sincere respect, by your Ladyship's humble and devoted servant, + + RICHARD COBBOLD. + + _Rectory, Wortham, near Diss, Suffolk._ + + + + +AUTHOR'S PREFACE + + +Independently of this simple history being a relation of facts, well +known to many persons of the highest respectability still living in the +county of Suffolk, it is hoped that an instructive lesson may be +conveyed by it to many, who may not yet have seen the necessity of early +and religious instruction. + +These pages will prove, in a remarkable manner, that, however great may +be the natural endowments of the human mind, yet, without the culture of +religious principles, and the constant discipline of the Holy Spirit, +they will never enable their possessor to resist the temptations of +passion, but will be as likely to lead to great crimes as to great +virtues. + +It will be seen that, from the want alone of the early impressions of +religion, the heroine of these pages fell into errors of temper and +passion, which led to the violation of the laws of God and man; but +that, after the inculcation of Christian faith and virtue, she became +conspicuous for the sincerity of her reformation and for an exemplary +life: that, though it pleased God to grant her 'a place of repentance', +yet it was through such bitter sorrows and sufferings of mind and body +as she most devoutly desired others might be spared. + +The public may depend upon the truth of the main features of this +narrative: indeed, most of the facts recorded were matters of public +notoriety at the time of their occurrence. The author who here details +them is a son of the lady with whom this extraordinary female lived, and +from whose hands he received the letters and the facts here given. He is +persuaded that much will be found in the history of Margaret Catchpole +highly worthy of praise and imitation; and, if that which is unworthy +shall only be taken as a warning example, he humbly hopes that the +public will be both gratified and benefited by the publication. + +_Rectory, Wortham._ + + + + + THE HISTORY + + OF + + MARGARET CATCHPOLE + + + + +CHAPTER I + +EARLY SCENES + + +The heroine of this romantic but perfectly true narrative was born in +the year 1773. There was a large tract of extra-parochial land toward +the north of the bounds of the parish of Nacton, Suffolk, reaching from +Rushmere Heath down to the banks of the beautiful river Orwell. This +tract was known by the name of Wolfkettel, and commenced at the Seven +Hills, and terminated on the south side of Alneshbourne Priory. + +The spot called the Seven Hills, though originally there were sixteen, +was, in all probability, the site of the famous battle of Arwell, fought +between the Earl of Ulfketel and the Danes, in A.D. 1010. It was a wild +waste, and a great part of it to this day remains much in the same +state, fit only for sheepwalks or a warren, or as a preserve for game. +The tract lying nearest to the Orwell was very early brought into +cultivation; and at the time this narrative commences, was famous for +the production of the best barley in the county. In a cottage on these +lands lived Jonathan Catchpole, an industrious labourer, and father of +six children, of whom Margaret was the second daughter, and youngest +child but one. + +The farm upon which the father and his sons worked was then held by Mr. +Denton, who was well known for his famous Suffolk cart-horses--strong +bone, short joints, clean legs, stout chests, high crests, light +chestnut, with silvery manes, and tails that ought to have swept the +ground, but for a barbarous custom of docking them at that period, one +of the most insane fashions of the day. + +Jonathan Catchpole had a team of these horses to look after, and was the +head ploughman on the estate. His boys were engaged in various parts of +the farm. + +The youngest daughter was made a sort of pet by the rest of the family; +and, as the eldest girl was always of a sickly constitution, it fell to +the lot of Margaret to carry her father's and brothers' meals to them in +the field. + +Who has not seen the healthy face of childhood in those ever interesting +years when activity commences? And what philanthropist, delighting in +scenes of genuine simplicity and nature, could fail to admire the ruddy +glow of youth, and the elastic step of confidence, with which the young +female peasant bounds to meet a parent or a brother, at the welcome hour +of noon, bearing the frugal dinner of bread and cheese, or it may +sometimes chance to be bread and pork? + +The child becomes of some consequence, entrusted with the basket of +provision; and, as she stands against the bank of the hedgerow, watching +the progressive march of the horses as they come toward her, drawing the +plough and turning over the soil, guided as they are by the steady hand +of her father, she presents a picture worthy of observation. + +On these occasions, Margaret was as punctual to her hour as the sun. On +reaching the field she would set her basket down and jump into her +father's arms, and kiss his warm forehead, and receive in return a +reward, which even in infancy gave her the utmost delight, viz. a seat +upon one of the horses' backs, and there she would remain until she was +taken off by the same hands which placed her there, and gave her the +empty basket to carry home. + +"May I come in the evening, father?" she used to say, as she looked +wistfully round the horizon, to see if any appearance of rain forebode +an unfavourable answer; for this request "to come in the evening" +contained an imaginative delight, exceeding in its kind the prospect of +the fox hunter for a coming run. For Margaret, when she did "come in the +evening," used to have the privilege of riding home one of the +plough-horses. + +This was a singular _penchant_ for a female child to imbibe, but with it +mingled the pleasure of her father's and brothers' smiles; and this, +after a day of toil, seemed to give elasticity to their spirits, and +formed an agreeable change to the unvarying monotony of ploughing +straight lines, the clinking of chains, and their rural "_wooah come +ather, woree, wooo, jeh!_" sounds as unintelligible to some readers as +the language of the savages of the Caribbee islands, when first +discovered. + +Sometimes the crack of the whip would make the horses start, and the +young men, her brothers, who would try to frighten their sister, found, +instead of so doing, that it only increased the pleasure of her ride. At +length, she began to trot the leading horse home. + +After a time, this privilege was extended to riding the farm-horses down +to water; and this appears to have been the very summit of Margaret's +delight. She used to take her brother's whip in her tiny hand, drive the +whole team before her into the water, keep them in order while there, +and then drive them out again, up the sandy lane, into the stable-yard. + +It is well known that at such times it is no easy task to sit a +cart-horse; for they will kick, and plunge, and exhibit that rough kind +of amusement known by the name of "horse-play," which has as much of +shrieking and biting as it has of gambolling in it. + +In going out to, and coming home from, water, horses accustomed to the +heaviest labour, if at all well fed, will exhibit no mean share of this +species of spirit; and woe be to the lad without a whip in his hand, or +who has not a very steady seat! + +Gainsborough and Constable were both lovers of the scenery around +Ipswich; and many are the sketches in the possession of their Suffolk +friends, which speak their admiration of the beautiful landscapes which +surround the river Orwell. + +Had these artists seen Margaret in her equestrian character, they would +have immortalized her; for nothing could have been more appropriate to +the spirit of their works. + +Margaret was fearless as a Newmarket jockey; and never was known to have +had a single fall. She kept her seat as well as any of the tutored +children of the celebrated but unfortunate Ducrow: indeed, it may be +fairly questioned if any one of his troop could have managed to sit a +Suffolk cart-horse with the same composure. + +The fame of our young heroine's exploits reached but little farther than +the sequestered farm-house to which her parents belonged, excepting now +and then at the Ipswich races, when some of the lads saw an awkward +rider, they would exclaim to each other, "Margaret would beat him +hollow." + +Time flew swiftly on, producing no farther change in the family of the +Catchpoles than what may be usually seen in the habitations of the +labouring class. Those are generally the most stationary race of all +people in a parish, who have constant employment on a large farm: the +owners of lands change their places of abode--sell their estates--and +leave the country; the tenants frequently change their occupations; but +the labourer remains to cultivate the soil, and is always found a +resident among those "_poor who shall never perish out of the land_." +They have their friends and fellow-labourers, and feel as much interest +in each other's welfare as the members of richer or wider-spread +fraternities. + +The Catchpoles and the Cracknells were two families that principally +worked upon the lands of Mr. Denton. Their houses were indeed widely +separated; but as their labours were in the same field, their occasions +of meeting were frequent, their intimacy became strict, and they were of +mutual assistance to each other. One lived near the street at Nacton, +and the other upon the farm; so that whenever there was any occasion to +go to Nacton, the Catchpoles always had a friend's house to call at, and +the Cracknells were as constantly using the Catchpoles' cottage at the +entrance of the lane leading down to the farm-house. + +This intimacy was productive of especial accommodation on the +Sabbath-day; for the Catchpoles, being at a great distance from church, +they made use of the Cracknells' cottage, near the street, and used to +carry their meals there, with the view of attending the church service +twice on that day. + +At that time, education was not so widely spread as it is now; and the +particular spot in which this labourer's cottage stood being +extra-parochial, they had to seek what little instruction they could +obtain from the neighbouring parish of Nacton. The Reverend Mr. Hewitt +was as attentive to his people as he could be, and was much assisted in +his duties by the family of Admiral Vernon, who at that time lived at +Orwell Park, and by Philip Broke, Esq., the great landlord of that +district, and the father of our deeply-lamented and gallant Suffolk +hero, Sir Philip Broke. But education was not considered then so great a +desideratum as it is now, though the pious wish of England's patriarchal +sovereign, George III, "that every cottager might have a Bible, and be +able to read it," was nobly responded to through every densely-peopled +district in his kingdom. + +The Catchpoles were not an irreligious family, though they could none of +them read or write. They were not ignorant, though they were uneducated. +The father always repeated aloud the Lord's Prayer every night before +his family retired to rest, and the first thing before they went to +their work in the morning. They were generally respected by their master +and mistress, their friends and acquaintance. They were a +well-conducted, orderly family, and were united in love as dearly as +those who had the greater zest of education and cultivation to heighten +their domestic affections. + +Margaret grew up to her thirteenth year, a fine, active, intelligent +girl. She had a brother younger than herself by five or six years, of +whom she was very fond, from having nursed him during the occasional +absence of her mother. Her elder sister was always, as we have stated, +of a sickly constitution, and very delicate: she had very little bodily +strength, but she had learned to knit and to sew, and in these things +she excelled, and was the sempstress of the whole family. She was of a +sweet temper, so gentle, so affectionate, and so quiet, that, though a +complete contrast to her sister, she nevertheless maintained a just +ascendancy over the high spirit of Margaret, which was always curbed by +any quiet reproof from the calm wisdom of the invalid. + +We have seen something of Margaret's infant spirit: we must now record a +simple fact of her childhood, which exhibits a singular instance of +intrepidity and presence of mind in a child not yet fourteen years old. + +It chanced that her mother one day sent her down to the farm-house to +ask for a little broth, which had been promised by Mrs. Denton, her +mistress, for poor Susan. Her father and her brothers were all at work +on a distant part of the farm; and, being harvest-time, master and man +were every one engaged. When Margaret arrived at the gate, she heard a +shriek from a female in the house, and in another minute she was in the +kitchen, where the mistress of the house had suddenly fallen down in a +fit. In one moment the girl of fourteen exhibited a character which +showed the powerful impetus of a strong mind. The two girls in the house +were shrieking with fright over their fallen mistress, and were +incapable of rendering the least assistance. They stood wringing their +hands and stamping their feet, and exclaiming, "Oh, my mistress is +dead!--Oh, my mistress is dead!" + +"She is not dead!" said Margaret; "she is not dead! Don't stand +blubbering there, but get some cold water; lift up her head, untie her +cap, loose her gown, and raise her into the chair." Not waiting to see +how her words were taken, she did the work herself, and caused the +others to help her. She used the water freely, and gave the chest full +play, dragged the chair toward the door, sent one of the girls for some +vinegar, and made the other rub her hands and feet; and did not slacken +her attention until she saw some symptoms of returning animation. When +the breathing became more composed, and the extremities more sensitive, +she sent off one of the girls to the harvest-field for help; and telling +the servant-girl that she was going for Dr. Stebbing, she went to the +stable, unslipped the knot by which the pony was tied to the rack; and, +with only the halter in her hand, without saddle or bridle, she sprang +upon the fiery little Suffolk Punch, snapped her fingers instead of a +whip, and was up the sandy lane, and on to the high road to Ipswich, +before the other girl was fairly across the first field towards her +master. She did not stop even to tell her mother where she was going, +but dashed past the cottage. + +On she went, and well had she her own wishes answered by the fiery +little animal she bestrode. Her heart was up, and so was the pony's, +who, feeling a light weight upon his back, and a tight seat over his +ribs, gave full play to his lungs and legs, and answered to her heart's +content the snap of the finger for expedition. Those who beheld the +animal would be astonished, and ask where all the speed could be. But +speed there was in his strong and well-knit limbs. So close was he put +together, that his action was almost like a ball bounding down the side +of Malvern hills. Nothing seemed to check the speed of Margaret or her +steed. She passed every cart jogging on to Ipswich market, without +taking any notice of the drivers, though she knew many of them well. Her +mistress and the doctor were the only things in her mind's eye at this +time, and they were four miles asunder, and the sooner she could bring +them together the better. She even met Admiral Vernon's carriage just as +she turned on to the Ipswich race-course, at the part now called Nacton +Corner. The Admiral's attention was called to the extraordinary sight of +a female child astride a pony at full speed, with nothing but a halter +over his head, and that held as loosely as if the rider wished to go at +full speed. The servants called to the child, even the Admiral was +sufficiently excited to do the same; but he might as well have attempted +to stop a vessel in full sail, with a strong and favourable wind. + +Away she dashed, regardless of any impediment. She passed one young +farmer from Stratton Hall, who rode what might be termed a high-bred +horse. It was a noble turf, and an open course; and the young man, as +much astonished as if it were an apparition before him, though convinced +that it was flesh and blood, stuck his spurs into his charger's side, +and gave him his rein with the full determination to overtake her. But +this was not so easy a task as he anticipated. The little nag, hearing +the clank of heels behind him, turned his head first on one side, then +on the other; and, lifting up his nose like a stag, darted onward with +redoubled speed. Not Mazeppa with more sudden bound could have sprung +forward with more spirit than this wild little home-bred nag did down +the wide turf of the race-course. The youth called aloud to know what +was the matter, but Margaret heeded him not; and long before she reached +the stewards' stand, she had fairly distanced the young squire of +Stratton Hall. At length she reached the end of the race-course, and +came on to the common of Bishop's Hill. It is a very deep descent down +that hill to the town of Ipswich, which from its summit seems to lie at +the very bottom of an extensive pit. But it is a noble expanse that lies +before the spectator upon that eminence. The beautiful river flowing to +the left, and forming an expanded semicircle bordering the town, and the +distant country rising with amphitheatric grandeur beyond the barracks, +and above the towers of twelve churches, might induce even a hasty +traveller to pause and look upon that sight. But Margaret did not pause. +Down she dashed from the verge of the hill into the very thickest part +of the back hamlet of St. Clement's. It was market-day, and scores of +pig-carts, and carriers' vans, and waggons, stood on one side of the +road, taking up nearly half the street. But on through them all at full +speed dashed the intrepid girl. From every house people rushed to see +the sight--a girl, with her bonnet hanging down behind her, and going +like lightning through the crowded thoroughfare, was an extraordinary +sight. + +People gave way as she rode fearlessly on, and followed her up St. +Clement's Fore Street, over the stone pavement across the wash into +Orwell Place, where lived the ever humane though eccentric surgeon, Mr. +George Stebbing. But not until she reached his very door did Margaret +give the first check to the pony. + +A passing spectator, who was at the moment opposite the surgeon's door, +with an instinctive thought of her errand, gave a violent ring at the +surgery-bell, and received such a joyous "Thank you, sir," from the +child, that he stopped to see the result. + +By this time the street was full of spectators, all anxious to know what +was the matter; but Margaret's eye was fixed upon the door, and the very +moment it was opened and the doctor himself appeared, she exclaimed, +"Oh, come to my mistress, sir, directly!--come to my mistress!" + +The gentleman who had rung the bell was Mr. Nathaniel Southgate, of +Great Bealings, a rich and excellent agriculturist, and an acquaintance +of the doctor's. Having followed him into the surgery, and there learnt +the feat the child had performed, he at once resolved to take her into +his own service; and he gave her a crown as a present, telling her, if +she was a good girl she should come and live with him. With the former +communication, Margaret, as might be supposed, was not a little pleased; +but upon the latter she put a very grave face. + +The doctor's gig being by this time ready at the door, he placed +Margaret beside him, and started for the farm, chatting by the way about +her poor sister Susan, whom she asked the doctor to visit as he returned +from the farm. Once only did she seem to reflect in an unfavourable +manner upon the act she had done, and said to the doctor, "I hope, sir, +if my master should be angry at my taking the pony, you will beg of him +to forgive me." + +On arriving at the farm, the doctor found that the mistress of the house +was much better; and he then learned from the servant-girls, that, but +for little Margaret's presence of mind and activity, the apoplectic fit +might have terminated fatally. + +Having given the needful instructions as to the treatment of the +invalid, the doctor once more took Margaret in his gig, and drove to the +cottage; where having visited and prescribed for poor Susan, he took +leave of the grateful family by telling Margaret, that if ever she stood +in need of a friend to help her, she had only to "post off again for the +doctor." + +Numerous were the inquiries concerning Margaret and her expedition, and +she found herself, much to her surprise and chagrin, extolled for her +horsewomanship. She began, therefore, to be shy of riding the horses at +the farm; and modesty told her, now that her fame began to spread, there +was something bold and conspicuous in her former pleasures of this kind. +So sensitive was she upon this point, that she avoided as much as +possible all allusion to her past habits, and for the future carefully +avoided the horse-yard and the horses. Her father and brothers observed +this, and would sometimes say, "Peggy, you will soon forget how to +ride." + +"The sooner the better," she would reply, "if I am to have people +staring at me as they now do." + +Susan perceived with satisfaction that Margaret, instead of being vain, +and puffed up with the notice of the world, was quite the reverse. +Numbers might have risen in their own opinion, and have been giddy from +the continual praises of one and another; but in this case it became a +subject of annoyance rather than of congratulation, and her sister began +to fear, from finding her so much more occupied in the house, and +especially for herself, that Margaret's health would suffer. + +It was with some degree of satisfaction that an opportunity was soon +afforded for a change of place and action for her sister. Her uncle +Catchpole came expressly from Mr. Nathaniel Southgate, of Great +Bealings, to treat with her parents about Margaret's going to service; +and matters were so speedily arranged, agreeably to all parties, that +she was to accompany her uncle on his return home. All seemed to think +it a good thing for the girl; even she herself, though quite new to the +work of a dairymaid, thought she should thus escape the unpleasant +observation she had been subject to. This accounted for the readiness +with which she complied with her uncle's advice. + +When, however, the hour of departure came, never perhaps did a +cottage-girl leave home with a heavier heart: tears, unrestrained tears, +ran in an honest current over her young face. Oh, how Margaret loved her +poor sick sister! how deeply she felt the grief of leaving her! nor +would she consent to leave her, except under the faithful promise that +her father, or one of her brothers, would frequently come and see her, +and bring her word of Susan's health. + +"Dear sister," she said to Susan, "dear sister, if you should be worse, +oh, do let me come and nurse you! I love to wait upon you, I feel so +happy to see you smile." + +"God bless you, dear little Peggy!" was the reply. "God bless you! Mind +and be a good girl, and take pains to do your duty well. Charles, or +John, and sometimes little Ned, will walk over to Bealings. I will send +for you if I am worse, for I too love to have you near me; but it is +best for us both that we should be parted for a time, and especially for +you, as you can learn nothing more at home." + +The kiss of filial and parental and brotherly and sisterly love was +given through many tears, and the little Margaret departed for her first +place. + +She went with a high character from home, and to a place where that good +character had preceded her, in the estimation of the gentleman who so +promptly rang the bell for her at the doctor's door. She stayed a day or +two with her uncle in the cottage in which she was born, and then +entered into the service of Mr. Nathaniel Southgate. At her very first +interview with her new master, she begged of him never to talk about her +riding the pony, and as much as possible to prevent others speaking of +it. This very much raised her in the good opinion of her master and +mistress, for they had some fears lest she might be too fond of riding +to mind her work. They found her, however, completely cured of this +propensity, nor could she be induced, in a new and strange place, ever +to mount a horse or pony. + +How seldom does public praise make mortals shy! yet where true modesty +prevails this is found to be the case. It speaks highly for this young +girl, who, from an innate distaste to notoriety, shunned a habit which +had once been a prevailing pleasure, and in which, till the world spoke +loudly of her merit, she felt no degree of shame. How singular that such +a being should ever become so conspicuous, as she afterwards did, in +that very line which she now so sedulously avoided! Well may we all say, +"We know not what manner of spirit we are of." + +In the situation which Margaret first occupied, her mistress found her +all that she required--she was very apt at learning to do her work, very +diligent in the performance of it, and always gave satisfaction. She had +plenty of employment, and was stirring with the lark; soon understood +the accustomed duties of a dairywoman, and was always praised for +cleanliness and good conduct. + +A year passed away rapidly. Margaret, at fifteen years of age, was as +tall as she was afterwards at twenty; she was strong, too, though slim. +One year makes a great difference in a female at that age--some are +almost women at sixteen, when boys are, generally speaking, awkward +clowns. She went to service before she had completed her fourteenth +year. + +Margaret remained a year and a half at Bealings, remarkable for the +strict propriety of her behaviour, and for the cheerfulness of her +disposition. She had stipulated with her mistress that, in case of her +sister's death, or of her requiring her aid at the near approach +thereto, she should have full permission to leave. It was on this +account that, in the Whitsuntide following, she left her situation, and +went to attend her poor sister. + +Susan, who was then in her twentieth year, had lingered on, gradually +getting weaker and weaker, until she was quite unable to rise from her +bed. Her heart always yearned towards her sister; and, as she had +promised to let her be with her during her few last days, and she +herself thought those days were almost numbered, she now sought her +assistance. Margaret's affection answered the sister's call, and she was +ready to place all her earnings and all her labours at that sick +sister's service. She hesitated not; but, taking a respectful and +grateful leave of the family at Bealings, she was, at Whitsuntide, again +an inmate of her father's house. + +It has been stated, some few pages back, that between the Catchpoles and +Cracknells, as labourers upon the same farm, there existed a close +intimacy: it was Whitsuntide, and Mrs. Cracknell's baby was to be +christened. Poor Susan was to have been one of the sponsors, and the +child to be named after her; but "poor Susan was laid on her pillow," +and could not answer to the call of her neighbour in any other way than +by her prayers. Margaret was therefore asked to take Susan's place, +which she consented to do, and went early to Nacton, to render what +assistance she might be able to give in the celebration of this event. + +Neighbour Cracknell kept a little shop of such goods as might be +obtained at the large, red-bricked, coffin-shaped house of Mr. Simon +Baker, grocer, St. Clement's Street, Ipswich. This shop divided the fore +and back hamlets of St. Clement's, and was the first from the Nacton +Road, entering upon the pavement of the town. Master Cracknell and his +boys spared what they could for the thrifty wife at home, who had fitted +up her closet window with shelves, and placed thereupon a stock of +threads, pins, needles, soap, starch, tape, and such like small and +least perishable articles, as might make some return in the shape of +home profit, instead of working in the fields. + +This cottage stood at the entrance of the village, and the shop, if such +it might be called, had frequent customers among the poor. A single +candle, a small loaf, half an ounce of tea, a halfpennyworth of cheese, +a pennyworth of butter, or sugar, or snuff, or tobacco, could here be +obtained. Thus Dame Cracknell managed to turn a penny in her own way; +contented with small gains, she provided for her rapidly increasing +family in a decent and honest manner, and looked forward with hope for +more custom. She made no outward show to create opposition, and, had she +always done so, might have gone on prosperously; but this joyful +Whitsuntide, which found her and her friends so quietly happy, was +fraught with untoward circumstances, which neither she nor her +neighbours could foresee. She had invited a few friends to partake of +her christening fare, and expected her relative, Stephen Laud, from +Felixstowe Ferry, to stand with Margaret Catchpole and herself as +sponsors for the little Susan. + +This Stephen Laud was a famous boatman, and for many years plied at the +ferry-boat between Harwich and Langer Fort, now called Landguard Fort. +That it required a skilful pilot to manage a ferry-boat, which had +nearly two miles to run from the Suffolk to the Essex side, will be +easily imagined. As government letters were always conveyed from +Harwich to the fort, at that time, the ferryman was in the receipt of +government pay, and it was considered a good situation for an active +man. Such was Stephen Laud--and not only active, but a man of no common +intelligence. He had been left a widower, with one son, William, whose +uncle, a boat-builder at Aldborough, had taken a great liking to him. He +had bound him apprentice to Mr. Turner, the ship-builder, at Harwich, +where the boy had acquired no mean tact at his employment, and grew up a +good workman, though somewhat too free a spirit for a settled character. +He was very fond of the sea, and, from the joyous buoyancy of his +disposition, the captains of the traders to Aldborough used frequently +to give him a run. + +Mr. Crabbe, a brother of the celebrated poet, with whom young Laud +studied navigation, used to say he was the quickest lad as a +mathematician he ever knew. He was a merry, high-spirited sailor, rather +than a boat-builder. He was very intimate with one Captain Bargood, a +master and owner of several ships then trading along the coast, and over +to Holland. + +So taken was the captain with Will Laud, that he would have persuaded +him at once to join service with him. Will was generally liked; and +though his uncle wished him to stick to the boat-building, he could not +but confess that he would make a far better sailor. He knew, however, +that his old father, the pilot, would not approve of his going to sea +for a permanency, without his having a voice in the matter; and as +Captain Bargood offered to give young Laud a fair share of profits +without loss, and Will had such a turn for the sea, he had sent him over +to his father, to ask his consent to this change in his course. This was +the subject of their conversation, as, upon the Whitsuntide mentioned, +they journeyed on foot from Felixstowe Ferry to Nacton, a distance of +six miles. + +"You speak famously, boy, of this captain: he may be all right, and his +offers to you seem to be good. I have heard it hinted, however, that he +is not over-nice; and that though, as times go, he may be an honest +trader, yet that he can find friends to help him over with a cargo of +moonshine, and get a good run too into the country." + +"I never heard a word of any such traffic, father, and whenever I have +been with him I have never seen him in any suspicious company. He would +never persuade me to this work, father. I am the son of a government +man, and I hope I shall always prove myself an honest tar." + +"I hope so too, my boy; I hope so, too; but when once the block runs, +down fall the sails. Take care, my lad; keep your eye ahead." + +"Don't be afraid, father; only you give consent, and I shall sail with +fair wind and weather." + +"I can but wish you well, boy; I can give you but little help. You are +now entering your twentieth year, and seem to me determined to go to +sea. I shall not persuade you against your own inclinations; so, go; and +may the great Pilot above keep you in safety from the dangers of the +breakers! I will do what I can for you." + +This consent seemed to animate young Laud with most fervent +thankfulness, and his elastic spring carried him over every stile he +came to. As they neared the village of Nacton he was chatty upon many +subjects, but more especially upon the object of his journey. + +"I never was at a christening party," said the young man; "whom shall we +meet there, father?" + +"Your relatives on the mother's side are all poor, William, but honest +people. I have long promised to be godfather to one of the Cracknells, +and now I am called upon to make good my promise. You will meet their +friends the Catchpoles, and one or two others. Perhaps Margaret +Catchpole may be there, as her sister Susan, I hear, will never be +likely to get out again." + +"Margaret Catchpole! Margaret Catchpole! I wonder whether that is the +girl whose name I heard so much about two years ago. I was with Captain +Bargood at the Neptune, near the quay, as all the people in the street +were talking about a spirited girl riding a pony full speed from Nacton +to Ipswich for the doctor. The name I heard mentioned was the same you +speak of." + +"And was the very person we shall perhaps see among the party to-day." + +"I am glad of it, for I can easily conceive she must be an enterprising +girl; I shall like to see her much. She must be very young still." + +"About sixteen. I have heard that she is a very respectable young +woman." + +Conversation of this kind served to entertain the youth and his father, +and to divert the current of their thoughts from the sea, until they +arrived at Nacton Street. They descended that ravine-looking village, +and, passing the blacksmith's shop at the bottom of the valley, ascended +the hill near Admiral Vernon's, passed the church towards the Ipswich +road, and arrived at Master Cracknell's cottage. The ever-ready Margaret +had been before them to assist, and had made herself useful in many +ways. The humble holiday party consisted of the Catchpoles, father and +two sons,--the two Calthorpes, Stephen and William Laud, and the no +small family of the Cracknells; and last, not least, the heroine of the +day, Margaret Catchpole. + +The cottage, as the reader may suppose, was full; but welcome were they +all to the christening, and joyful that day were all the party. Between +the young men and Will Laud a quick intimacy commenced. His character +seemed formed for a holiday,--all buoyancy, life, and animation; he +could at one time have his fun with the children, another have feats of +bodily strength with the young men; tell a good story for the old +people, and sing a good song for the whole party. + +Laud was greatly prepossessed in Margaret's favour; he had heard much of +her at Ipswich, and had been long anxious to see her. When he did see +her, she more than answered all his expectations. He thought to see a +lively, spirited child, with whom he might joke of her childish but +noble act, or romp; but he beheld a very respectable, decent young +woman, who, though active and intelligent, was far from having any +childish manners, lively, agreeable, and unaffected, with a quickness +and spirit well answering to his own. + +As for Margaret, such a bright vision of pleasure had never before +entered her thoughts or heart, as stole upon her that day. In short, +both William and Margaret may be said to have imbibed a partiality for +each other on this day, which ripened into such an attachment as has +seldom been recorded among all the host of love-stories which fill the +pages of romance. But these pages record no romance of unreal life; they +tell a plain, unvarnished tale,--a tale which, having been continually +related in private circles, is now given to the world at large, as a +remarkable series of events in + + The short and simple annals of the poor. + +The merry christening passed away, and the friends parted, but not for a +long period. Charles Catchpole, who had been mightily taken with young +Laud, agreed to accompany him to his father's. They all left the cottage +of Cracknell together, and all arrived in safety at their respective +homes; but not without Will Laud having walked double distance, to show +a devotion to our heroine which he, at that time, most sincerely felt. + +But they, like all lovers and friends, must and did part. Young William +had a long and agreeable soliloquy with himself, as he traversed again +that road by night which he had gone in the morning with his father. How +different the current of his thoughts! In the morning he was all raging +for the sea, but what a comparative calm as to that desired object now +ensued. There was tumult stirring of another kind, which seemed to +engross the whole of his thoughts, and centre them upon the land, not +upon the ocean. + +It is unnecessary to follow this youth through his every day's journey +to and from Margaret's cottage. His uncle began to think that his father +had succeeded in making a landsman of him; for Time, which flies +swiftly on the wings of Love, goes slower and more mechanically with +those who have to work hard every day, and whose bread depends upon the +sweat of their brow. + +Charles Catchpole, though he caught infection from the roving spirit of +young Laud, and found in him a love of enterprise which charmed him, did +not seem so fond of the sea as to be induced to leave for it his more +peaceful occupation. The young men were so far pleased with each other, +because Laud endeavoured to entertain Charles, and Charles was only too +happy to be so entertained. Yet the young landsman wanted to know more +of distant countries than young Laud, who had only been a coasting +trader, could tell him. He had once, indeed, been over to Holland, but +did not go far into the country; so that all the information he could +give related to simply the seaport towns on the coast. + +Whence arose this inquiring spirit on the part of Charles Catchpole, no +one could determine. The lad had once expressed a wish to be a soldier; +and it was the old clerk and sexton of the parish of Nacton who used to +read and explain to him that there were strange people in the world; and +these notions, which had for some time slumbered, seemed to be awakened +by young Laud's company. + +Will Laud had idle time to spare, and he devoted a great portion of it +to Margaret, and was a constant attendant at Nacton. All the family knew +of the attachment, and it was no secret with any neighbour who chanced +to come in, all of whom were well pleased with Will Laud, and +congratulated their respective friends on the future happiness of the +young people. Even the master and mistress, for whom the family worked, +were satisfied with appearances; and the maids at the farm, who had +never quite forgiven Margaret for her good offices, were not a little +jealous at the early prepossession of the young sailor for "the girl," +as they called her. + +Poor Susan, the sick sister, was the only one of the whole family who +did not like Will Laud. There frequently dwells in the sickliest forms +the purest love. Susan felt more interested for Margaret's future +happiness than did any one else in the family. Through all that weakness +of body, there was a strength of mind and of judgement, which those who +have for a long time had the prospect of dissolution before them +frequently possess. She looked with penetrating eyes upon the young man. +She weighed well his spirit, listened to his free conversation, and +formed her idea of the young man's character, not from outward +appearance, but from the tone of sentiment which came from his heart. +She was shocked to find that there was, through all his attentions and +general desire to please every one, a levity of expression upon the most +serious subjects. She did not say much to Margaret upon this point; but +her manner towards her lover was colder, and, in some measure, more +repulsive than her sister liked. It is said, that "we can always tell +those who love us." It is equally true "that we can always tell those +who dislike us." + +Poor Susan did not openly rebuke Will Laud. Yet he perceived that she +did not approve of him, and said to Margaret--"I do not think your +sister Susan likes me." Why should he think this? He had never heard +Susan utter a word of rebuke to him. But sometimes, in the midst of his +wild vagaries, a glance of that bright eye which flashed, searching into +his spirit, would make the young sailor pause and finish his story in a +tamer way than he intended. Susan's affectionate disposition would not +allow her, in that apparently happy period of the two lovers' +intercourse, to speak anything harshly, but the more than usual warmth +of her interest was not to be mistaken. That pressure of the hand; that +kiss, with a starting tear in the eye, that hope expressed that she +might be happy, though a fixed tearfulness of doubt seemed to hover over +her mind, whilst she so often prayed for her sister, made Margaret +almost tremble, as if Susan foreboded evil. + +"Dear sister," said Margaret to her one day; "dear sister, you look so +gloomily on my lover and me!" + +"No, Margaret. I look only with love upon you, and am only, perhaps, too +anxious for your future happiness. I am not gloomy. I love you so +dearly, Margaret, that I pray that you may live in happiness all your +days. I do not like to lose any of your love." + +"Nor I any of yours, dear Susan; but sometimes I fear I either have so +done, or may so do. Laud fancies you do not like him." + +"It is only that I love you so dearly, that if any one loves you less +than I do, it makes me feel unhappy. I like Laud very well as a visitor, +and he appears very fond of you, Margaret; but he seems to me to think +too much of himself to be exactly what I wish him to be, for your sake." + +"May you not be mistaken, Susan? I am very young, and it must be years +before we marry. Do not you think he may be likely to improve with his +years?" + +"I should have thought so, had I not observed that vanity prompts him to +boast of his own successes over his uncle and his father. He has got his +own will of both, and appears to me to forget the sacrifices they have +made for his humour, which he fancies to be for his benefit. But I do +not speak against him, Margaret. I only wish him all that can be good, +for your sake." + +This conversation might have extended much farther but for the entrance +of Laud, who came rather in haste to say that he was sent for by Captain +Bargood to Felixstowe Ferry. He had been into the field with young +Charles Catchpole, and a sailor brought to him an urgent and special +message that he would come to the captain, as he wished to see him upon +very particular business. + +"Margaret," he said, "I must take my leave of you for a short time. I +suspect the captain wants me to go a voyage; but it will not be a long +one. I am assured of good pay, in a share, probably, of his profits, +without having to sustain the risk of loss." + +Whatever present grief Margaret might feel at the departure of her +betrothed, she did not give way to any deep lamentation. She knew that +Laud must work for his living, as well as she for hers, but she did not +despair of success; they were both young, both enjoying health and +strength. Regret she might feel, but Hope was ever the bright beacon of +Margaret's days. She could only express her hope that they might soon +meet again; and as her father and brothers came in from their labour, +Laud shook them all by the hand, told them he was going again to sea, +and wished them "all health and hearty cheer." + +It was with much regret that the old man and his sons found that Laud +must leave them, and their honest nature failed not in expressing every +good wish for a pleasant voyage. Laud turned to the sick-bed upon which +poor Susan lay, and approached to bid her good-bye. He was surprised to +see her in tears, and greatly agitated: so much so, indeed, that the +bed-clothes shook with such a tremulous motion, that they showed the +extent of her agitation. + +"Good-bye, Susan," said Laud, and extended his hand. + +Susan turned her piercing eye upon him, took his warm hand in her cold, +transparent, bloodless fingers, and with great effort spoke to him. + +"William, I want to say a word before you go." Here she paused to take +breath, and every one who loved her crowded round her bed. "I have +observed, William, much in your character that requires alteration, +before you can be either happy yourself or can make my sister so. You +have a lightness of thought, which you do not blush to express, which +appears to me bordering upon infidelity. There is a God, William, Who +observes us all, and knows every secret of our hearts, and in His sight +piety, parental love, and duty, are qualities which meet His +approbation, and the contrary provoke his displeasure. I have observed +with pain that you sometimes speak with levity of those whom you ought +to love. You may not intend to be wicked, but your language, with +respect to the guardians of your youth, is not good. You will forgive +my speaking my mind to you now, as I am sure I shall never see you again +in this world: but if ever we do meet in another and a better world, you +must alter greatly in the sentiments of your heart. We shall never meet +if you do not. You want steadiness of principle and firmness of purpose. +You may lead those who look up to you; but I can see that you may be +very easily led by others, who have only to exercise determination, and +they may tempt you to anything. You want, I repeat it, steadiness of +principle and stability of purpose. I love my dear sister, and I can +foresee that you will make her very unhappy if you do not alter in this +respect. Take what I say in good part, and forget it not. I can only +pray for your welfare. If ever you are unkind to Margaret, you and I +shall never meet in another world. Good-bye, William, good-bye!" + +The effort had been too much for her weak state, and she sank back +exhausted, hiding her tears upon her pillow. + +Youth and health do not dwell long upon the words of sickness, though +love cannot fail to produce a powerful effect for the time. Laud +returned to Felixstowe, leaving our cottagers to lament his departure, +and Margaret to the exercise of those duties to which her nature and +inclination made her then, and ever after, so well adapted--the nursing +of an invalid. Had she not had these duties to perform, she might have +felt more keenly the loss of her lover. She was never of a desponding +disposition. She knew that Laud must work hard; and she hoped that his +love for her would make him prudent and careful, though it might be +years before they both saved a sufficiency to furnish a cottage. + +Her duties to poor Susan became every day more urgent, for every day +seemed to bring her slowly to her end. Her attentions to this sick +sister were of the gentlest and most affectionate kind. Softly, gently, +noiselessly, she made every one go in and out of the apartment. Susan +wished that all whom she knew and loved should pray with her, and her +good mistress frequently came up from the farm to read to her. Oh, how +eagerly does the mind of the sufferer devour the word of God!--the more +humble, the more sweet that precious fruit to the palate of the sick! +How does she desire more and more of the living waters of life, and lift +her eyes to Heaven, and turn them in upon her heart, to see whence her +help might come! + +Poor Susan had been too long a sufferer not to have learned the duties +of patience; she had too humble a spirit to think anything of herself; +but when she thought of her father, mother, brothers, and sister, her +whole soul seemed absorbed in their present and future welfare. + +Oh! what instructive lessons may be learned at the sick-bed! How wise +are the reflections then made upon life and immortality! Could men only +be as wise at all hours, how happy might they be! + +But Susan's hours were numbered, and her end drew nigh. Scarcely three +weeks after the departure of Laud, she was called away; but her end was +so characteristic of piety and love, that, despite of the impatience of +the hasty reader, it must be recorded. On Saturday, the 24th of June, +not long before the family were about to retire to rest, Susan said to +Margaret, "Lift me up, dear, lift me up--I feel myself going." As might +be expected, a word of this sort called them all around her. The poor, +weak, wasted, emaciated girl, with an eye as brilliant as the purest +crystal, and a countenance expressive of the calm spirit within, looked +upon the mother bathing her thin hand with tears, and the affectionate +father and brothers a little more composed, but not less afflicted. +Edward, the youngest, knelt close by her side; whilst the affectionate +Margaret, with her arm and part of her chest supporting the raised +pillow, against which the sufferer leant, held with her left hand the +other transparent one of her dying sister. + +Who shall paint the silver locks of age, and that calm eye, watching the +waning light of a dear daughter's life? "Let us pray," said the dying +girl; "let us pray." Around the bed knelt six of her relatives, and in +deep humility heard Susan's prayer for them all, whilst they could only +answer, with a sob, "God bless you!" + +But now came an effort, which seemed to agitate the sufferer beyond all +former exertions: the clothes around her poor chest seemed to shake with +excess of emotion, as, with a most earnest and impressive look, she half +turned herself round, and uttered the name of her sister. + +"Margaret," she said, "Margaret, you will never marry William Laud--he +will cause you all much sorrow; but do not forsake the right and honest +path, and you will find peace at the last. Margaret, my dear sister, +never suffer him to lead you astray! Promise me, promise me never to be +his, except he marry you amidst your friends." + +"I never will, dear Susan--I never will." + +"Bless you! God bless you all!" And with one look up, as if she would +pierce the skies, she raised both her hands to heaven, and said, "O +blessed Saviour!" and with those words her spirit took its flight to +eternity. + +What a thrill, a holy thrill, ran through the hearts of all, as they +witnessed this solemn but cheerful end of her they so dearly loved! That +night was, indeed, one of serious reflection among them all: they +thought and talked of her, and blessed her, and resolved to follow her +advice, and keep the honest path. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE TEMPTATION + + +Laud reached Felixstowe Ferry: he had seen his parent, and then went to +the shore to meet the captain. There they stand under the cliff, by the +shore, opposite the harbour and town of Harwich, whilst the light gleams +upon the distant beacon of Walton-on-the-Naze. There is a boat a short +distance on the calm wave, and not far ahead a brig is seen standing off +and on. The captain is pointing to the brig, and seems very earnest in +his conversation; whilst a sort of cool composure is settled upon the +firm attitude of Will Laud, as he listens and seems to remain immovable. + +Oh! would that he had so remained! Many an afterpang, which the birth of +that day's sorrow occasioned, would have been spared. + +"Well, Laud, I make you a fair offer," said this artful captain; "I make +you a fair offer of the command of the brig: there she is, as tight a +vessel as ever cut a wave. I will venture to say, that when you helped +to lay her keel with Turner, you little dreamt of commanding on board of +her." + +"I have no objection to the craft, captain; but I do not like the job." + +"No: I suppose you would like to live at home along with the old +ferryman, your father; or, perhaps, knock away at boat-building on the +Alde. Pshaw, Will, pshaw! this is a tame kind of life. I took you for a +fellow of more spirit, or I never should have taken you for my +messmate." + +"When you took me for such, you took me as an honest man, and all your +dealings were above-board. Now you want to make me a smuggler. This is +the work, captain, I do not like. My father is an honest man, and under +Government--why should I bring disgrace upon him?" + +"And does it follow, Will, that I am what you call a smuggler, because I +do a little in a free trade? Where's the disgrace you speak of?--and who +is to bring it upon us? Come, Will, there are two sides of a question, +and we may hit upon the right as well as the wrong." + +"But we shall be cheating the Government of our country." + +"As to that, Will, look from the highest to the lowest, and see if they +do not all do so as long as they can with impunity." + +"I do not see that." + +"No, Will, no; because you shut your eyes. But who pays more tax than he +can help, or as much as is strictly due, either for his horses, +servants, powder, malt, hops, windows, silk, woollen, or any commodity +whatever, upon which a wholesale tax is imposed for the good of the +country? Don't talk, then, of cheating Government. I call mine only a +little free trade; and if I choose to employ a few free hands and pay +them well, what is that to anybody?" + +"You may employ them with more freedom in an honest way, than running +such risk of life, liberty, and property, as you do. I almost as much +grieve that I ever knew you, captain, as I do now at being compelled to +leave your service. I have been obliged to you hitherto, but you want +now to lay me under an obligation to which I have no stomach." + +"This is only since you came to the ferry, and went to the christening. +Go back, my boy, go back and turn ploughman. You will like that better +than ploughing the waves. You will only be, after all, a lubberly +landsman. But I must hail my fellows, and be off. What a pity such a +brig should go a-begging for a captain! Your own work, too, Will. Well, +well, I did not think you such a fool. Here, with a silver spoon in your +mouth, you would throw it away, and take up with a wooden one. Go, eat +your bread sopped in warm water, in a wooden bowl, and leave your old +messmates and friends to good fare, an active life, and cheerful +company. Good-bye, Will; good-bye." + +And the captain turned round to give the signal to his boatmen to pull +to shore; but without the least intention of giving up his prey. It was +only as a cat would pretend to let her victim escape to a little +distance, under the idea of having more play. + +"Go to your girl, boy; go to your girl," said he, as he took a step +toward the beach. "She will be glad to see you without employment, and +sick of the sea for her sake." + +"I'll tell you what, captain, my girl's an honest one, and if you were +to make her a disloyal offer, she would be the first to heave up her +anchor, or cut her cable, and haul to windward and be off." + +"I don't make her any offer; I have nothing to do with any of her sex, +and the less you have to do with them the better, Will. But if you must +have her in your eye, why not for her sake try to get a comfortable +berth for her? In a very short time, you will be able to secure enough +to make her happy. After a few runs, you may have a snug cot, near this +very cove, and be as comfortable as you wish to be. But if you have made +up your mind, and are determined not to accept my offer, why then I must +find another who will; and I warrant, that I need not go far before I +meet with one who will jump at the chance." + +"I say, captain, how many voyages shall I go, before that time comes you +speak of?" + +"That depends upon our luck. The quicker work we make, the sooner we +shall keep our harbour. One year, perhaps two. At all events, three, and +your berth is sure." + +"Well, captain, but how shall it be for share?" + +"Why, there's the brig, and look ye, Will, she's all right and tight, +and everything well provided aboard her. She is under your command; your +first trip to Holland; your cargo, gin; and as to other goods, snuff, +tobacco, linen, and such things, I let you barter with for yourself. +Only secure me the main chance. As to risk, that's all mine. You shall +receive, say one-sixth of the profit for the first year, one-third for +the second; and an equal share after. Now, my boy, but that I know your +pluck, and your tact, I should never make you such an offer. There you +have it." + +"Captain, I'm your man!--I'm your man!" + +And so he sold himself to as artful, desperate, and bold a rover, as +ever crossed the Channel. How true were poor Susan's last words to +him--"You want steadiness of principle and stability of purpose!" From +that hour, Will entered upon a course of life which led to his own ruin, +and the ruin of others. He was caught in the toils of a smuggler, from +which, though he once escaped, he never had sufficient stability to +entirely emancipate himself. + +Captain Bargood, to whom Will thus sold himself, was a clever as well as +a desperate adventurer. He contrived to keep up appearances as a steady +trader, and had vessels as regularly chartered as any of England's +noblest merchants. His sails visited with proper invoices all the ports +along the coast, and he had connexions in every town of the first class +of dealers. Yet this man managed to have withal an under-current in the +contraband trade, which paid him far greater profits than his regular +account. + +So well did he arrange his plans, that if a vessel of his was taken by +the coastguard, he had always a captain or a mate to father her, and as +he always paid them well, his own fair fame was suspected by none but +those who occasionally bought goods of him at a price so far below the +market, that they were content to let their suspicions subside in their +own profits. He was a good judge of men, both of sailors, landsmen, +gentry, and men of business. He knew how far to trust them, and how soon +to shorten his sail. His ships, captains, and crews, were as well known +to him as anything in his own unostentatious cottages at Aldborough, +Hollesley, Harwich, or Ipswich; in which he occasionally took up his +abode, as business or inclination prompted. But he equally well knew +Will Laud, and foresaw in him the very commander who should bring him +in many a good prize in the shape of spirits or tobacco, furs or linen. +He cared for no man's success but his own. He could be rough, smooth, +hot, or cool, just as he thought best to gain his end. Money was his +idol, and, as a quick return and enormous profit for a small outlay, the +smuggler's trade seemed to him the most promising. Laud would, and as +the sequel will show, did prove a valuable servant or slave to him. This +man outlived every one of his captains, and died about four years ago: +namely, in the year 1841. + +But the young sailor is arm-in-arm with the captain, the boat is hailed, +the crew, four oars and a steersman, approach the shore, and the captain +calls out-- + +"Now, Jack, high and dry for your new commander!" + +The boat grounds, and Laud and his future master are seated in the +stern. + +"Long time bringing-to, captain?" said the gruff and surly-looking John +Luff, a fellow who seemed formed of such materials as compose a +cannon-ball. He looked like what he was, an iron-hearted and iron-fisted +desperado, whose only pleasure was to serve a bad man, and to rule every +one in the ship who had a little more feeling than himself. + +They were soon on board the brig, and Laud was duly introduced to the +crew, and appointed their captain. + +"Yes, master, yes," said the mate, "we understand. You need not spin us +a long yarn; business, say I, and the sooner the better. I will take +care of him, trust me. He's a smart boy. He'll do, captain, he'll do." + +The mate, John Luff, and the master, seemed to understand each other. +The captain shook hands with Laud, and bidding him take care of his own +craft, he left them outward bound, and came ashore at Woodbridge Haven. + +Let it suffice, for the reader's information, that Laud was successful +in his new career. He made his voyage pay well, and contrived to send +some handsome presents to Margaret, too handsome to be acceptable. Alas! +how little did that desperate youth think that he was giving pain +instead of pleasure to all those who had any interest in his welfare! +How little did he think he was laying the foundation of misery and woe +to his father, to the Catchpoles, to the Cracknells, and to every one +who knew him! + +His first present was received by Margaret at a time when the heart of a +true lover is most open to the kind acts of friendship. Poor Margaret +and the family had just returned from the funeral of Susan, and were +seated in the cottage, talking over the good qualities of their dear +departed and beloved friend. Her sayings and doings, her affectionate +advice, her patience and resignation, were all topics of conversation, +and each had some kind act to record, not one a single fault to mention. +One or two of the Cracknells, and a workman or two on the farm, who +helped to carry the corpse, were all of the party who were not +relatives. The good mother had prepared the mournful meal, some cake, +bread and butter, a cup of tea, and a pint of beer each for the men. +They were partaking of this humble meal in a very subdued and quiet +spirit, as there came a rap at the door, and young Edward opened it. + +"Come in," said the father, and in walked a weatherbeaten man, who from +his dress might be taken for some honest ploughman, but whose +countenance betrayed a very different expression--none of that openness +and simplicity which good labourers and countrymen wear, but a shaggy +brow, and matted thick black hair. His eyebrows half covered the sockets +of his eyes, which peeped from under them with an inquisitive glance, to +see if all was safe. + +"Does one Margaret Catchpole live here?" said the man. + +"Yes, she does," was Margaret's quick reply; "what do you want with her? +I am she." + +"Oh! you be she, be you? Then I be commissioned to deliver this here +parcel into your hands;" and, easing his shoulder of a heavy bale of +goods, they came with some weight upon the chair which Edward had +vacated for the guest. + +"From whom does this come?" said she. + +"I don't know who he is. I was at work on the marshes at Bawdsey Ferry, +when a young sailor came up to me, and asked me if I knew where Nacton +was. I told him I knew whereabouts it was. He then asked me if I would +take this here bundle to one Margaret Catchpole, a labourer's daughter, +living, as he described, in just this place, which I have found." + +"Did he give his name?" + +"No; he said he couldn't come himself, but that this here would remind +you of him." + +All immediately concluded who he was, and Margaret asked Edward to bring +the packet into the sleeping-room, whilst the countryman was asked to +sit down and take a draught of beer. + +The parcel was unpacked. There were silks and shawls, caps and lace, +ribbons and stuffs, and gloves; parcels of tea, coffee, tobacco, and +snuff; together with curious-headed and silver-tipped pipes; in short, +enough to stock a small shop. But there was nothing to give pleasure to +Margaret. That poor girl's heart sank within her at a sight which she at +once perceived was far too costly to be honestly procured. She called to +Edward to assist her in tying up the bale again, and removing it into +the room where the pretended countryman was seated. As she entered, the +fellow roughly accosted her-- + +"Well! you find summut there, I dare say, to tempt you soon to put aside +these dark-looking dresses which you all wear. I must be going: can I +take anything back for you?" + +"Yes," said Margaret--"yes; you may take the whole bundle back the same +way you brought it, and tell the young man who gave it you that I should +have valued one single pair of honestly purchased gloves more than all +the valuables he has sent me." + +There was a twinkle of that small grey eye, and a twitch of the muscles +of that sun-burnt face, which showed that even the hardy, rough-looking +countryman was startled at such an honest spirit as then addressed him. +This person was none other than John Luff, the mate of the _Alde_, who +had undertaken to perform this duty for Captain Laud, from a motive, +without much love in it, simply because he feared that the captain might +be persuaded by his girl to leave off a smuggler's life. He saw in an +instant that such would have been the case, had young Laud come with +him, or brought the load himself. He had assumed the countryman's dress +to avoid any notice from the coastguard, and, until he came to the lane +leading to the farm, he had brought the bale of goods in a sack slung +over his shoulder, as if it were corn, or chaff, or flour. He was not +very easily put out, nor long in giving his answer. + +"No, young woman, I have had lug enough to bring it here, and I got a +crown for my job; mayhap, if I were to take it back to the youngster, I +might lose half my crown, and so be paid for my trouble. I'm not fond of +broken heads for a love-ditty. You may find some one else to take it +back: I've done my duty." + +"No, you have not," said Margaret; "you are no landsman, I am sure: your +duty is not that of an honest labourer. You are--I am sure you +are--connected with the smugglers on the coast. You may take this parcel +for yourself. I give it to you, to do what you like with; but do tell +the young man, when you see him, that I hate his presents, though not +himself." + +"I won't have anything to do with what's not my own," said the man, +"although you tell me I'm not an honest man. I'm off. I was to meet the +young chap again to-morrow at the same time and place. If you had any +small love-token now, or any words which might not anger the young +fellow, why, I shouldn't mind taking 'em; but if you haven't any, why +then I'll tell him you didn't care anything about him or his present. So +good-bye to you." + +The fellow took up his hat and stick to depart. + +"Hold!" said Margaret--"hold!" and taking her father's hat down from its +peg, she tore off the crape, and folding it up, she approached the +disguised seaman, saying--"Give him this--do give him this--and tell +him, I'd rather we all wore the like for him, than the rich things he +has sent us. Will you tell him this?" + +"No doubt he'll be much obliged to you: but you won't be long in this +mind. So, good-bye to you all." And the man departed, leaving that +spirited girl to think with pain of the dreaded words of +Susan--"Margaret, you will never marry William Laud!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +MISFORTUNES + + +Well would it have been for the Catchpoles and the Cracknells, had they +burnt every bit of valuable stuff which the smuggler had that day +brought. What years of anguish would it have spared them!--what +miseries! what agonies! Nothing unlawful can long prosper. Sorrow and +bitterness follow the days of unjust gain, and whosoever thinks to be +happy by the sudden influx of ill-gotten wealth, will find himself +grievously mistaken. Wealth gotten by honest industry and fair dealing +may enable a good man to soothe the sufferings of others, but even when +obtained, men find that it is not the being rich, but the regular +employment in a prosperous line of life, that gives the pleasure. Sudden +prosperity is too often destructive of a man's peace of mind; but sudden +prosperity, by evil means, is sure to bring its own ruin. Had but that +first bale of goods been burnt, Margaret might have continued the happy, +cheerful child of Nature, respected and received as the honest, +good-hearted girl she really was. + +It may fairly be said of Margaret, that she had no covetous hankering +after any of the goods which were that day presented to her eye. She +told all her friends what they were, and consulted with them what should +be done with them. She would have given them up to the government +officers, but she saw that it would involve her lover. She would have +sent them to Laud's father, but again the idea of causing him distress +deterred her. Oh! that she had cast them upon the broad sea, and let who +would have caught them! But they were goodly things to look upon; they +were costly--too good to throw away. And as Mrs. Cracknell said they +might all be serviceable, and it was a sin to waste them, she persuaded +Margaret to let her have them. + +"Let my good man take them home; we may by degrees get rid of them. I +can do the smaller packages up in smaller parcels, in my way; and as to +the silks and lace, I can find perhaps a distant customer to take them +off my hands." + +"You may do what you like with them," said Margaret, "only do not let me +know anything more about them." + +"You know, Mr. Catchpole," said Mrs. Cracknell, "that we may all want a +little help one day, and these things may provide against a stormy hour. +At all events, you shall lose nothing by them, though they now bring you +no profit." + +It did not take much time to persuade these simple-minded people to part +with things for which they had no demand and no taste. + +Mrs. Cracknell had them conveyed to her cottage, where she had them +sorted out, and, as prudently as possible, disposed of them according to +the means of her humbler customers. + +After a time, she found herself gradually improving in circumstances, +and, had she been content, might have gone on improving for years. Her +profits were too rapid, however, not to excite a stronger mind than she +possessed. She made, of course, handsome presents to the young +Catchpoles, and Margaret had the mortification of seeing a smart pipe, +and of smelling the fumes of rich tobacco, even in her own cottage, well +knowing they were the fruits of her lover's misdoings. + +Meantime, that lover's name began to be notorious along the coast. +Margaret heard no good of him. The coastguard had set a mark upon him, +and it became known throughout the country that Will Laud was the +ringleader of as desperate a gang as ever infested the shores of Great +Britain. + +So frequent were the inroads made at this period upon the commerce of +the country, that government had to employ a very active force to stay, +though she could not put down, so discreditable a feature upon her +coasts. + +At this time the shores of Norfolk and Suffolk were most conspicuous for +contraband trade. Severe and deadly were the continual actions between +the preventive-service men and the smugglers; lives were continually +lost on both sides; and dreadful animosities sprang up between the +parties upon the sea-shore. + +Will Laud and his associates had great luck; and Captain Bargood found +in him as bold and profitable a fellow as he could wish. Many were the +hairbreadth escapes, however, which he, in conjunction with his crew, +experienced. Laud was a tool in the hands of his mate, though he himself +was not aware of it; for whilst that fellow had his own way, he always +managed to get it through the medium of the captain's permission. He +would, in his bluff way, suggest, with all becoming subordination, such +and such a scheme, and generally succeeded in the enterprise. + +They had observed for a long time a scout upon the beach under Bawdsey +Cliffs, and knew that he was one of the Irish cruisers, who had been +transplanted to watch their craft: Laud proposed to nab him when he +could. He had been ashore one day to meet his employer, and had met this +merry-hearted Irishman at the Sun Inn, in a street of that long, sandy +village of Bawdsey. Pat was a loquacious, whisky-loving, light-hearted +fellow, who, without fear, and with ready wit, made himself agreeable +to everybody. He frequented the various inns along the border, and was +generally liked for his dash of gallantry, his love of drinking, and his +generous spirit; he was a brave fellow, too, and watchful for his +honour. He had seen along the beach a man roaming about, and had +concealed himself, not far from the fisherman's cottage, on purpose to +watch him; but all he could make out was, that the man went to the back +of the cottage, and there he lost him. Pat went to the fisherman's cot, +found the man and his wife at their meals, searched about the premises, +but could spy nothing. Pat had seen this thing several times, and was +fully convinced that the man he saw was a smuggler. + +In Bawdsey Cliff the smugglers had a cave of no small dimensions. It had +formerly been a hollow ravine in the earth, formed by the whirling of a +stream of water, which had passed quickly through a gravelly bed, and +met with opposition in this mass of clay. It had made for itself a large +crater, and then had issued again at the same place, and ran through a +sand-gall and gravelly passage down to the sea. This was discovered by a +tenant of the Earl of Dysart, who, in sinking a well near his shepherd's +cottage, suddenly struck into the opening of this cave. As the springs +were low at this season, the cave was almost empty of water, and formed +a most curious appearance. It was even then called the Robbers' Cave, +and curiosity was greatly excited in the country to visit it. It was so +smoothly and regularly formed by the eddies of the whirlpool, that the +nicest art could not have made it so uniform. The proprietor sank his +well some feet lower, until he came to a good stream; but in making the +well, he formed an archway into this curious place, and left it so for +the gratification of public curiosity. Time swept on, and the cave +became less frequented, and at last forgotten. + +A few years, however, previously to this narration, some smugglers had +been disappointed of their run, and had thrown their tubs down the well, +with the consent of their agent the fisherman, probably a descendant of +the old shepherd's, who dwelt in the cottage. This led to the +re-discovery and improvement of this famous depôt of arms, ammunition, +stock-in-trade, and place of retreat, which was then occupied by Will +Laud and his associates, and to which very spot John Luff was at that +time bound. + +These men had contrived to make the cave as comfortable a berth as a +subterraneous place could be. They had ingeniously tapped the land +stream below the cave, and laid it perfectly dry, and with much labour +and ingenuity had contrived to perforate the clay into the very chimney +of the cottage; so that a current of air passed through the archway +directly up the chimney, and carried away the smoke, without the least +suspicion being awakened. This place was furnished with tables, mats, +stools, and every requisite for a place of retreat and rendezvous. The +descent was by a bucket well-rope, which a sailor well knew how to +handle; whilst the bucket itself served to convey provisions or goods of +any kind. + +Such was the place into which vanished the choice spirits which poor Pat +had seen, and into which Pat himself, _nolens_, _volens_, was shortly to +be introduced. It would be needless to add, that the fisherman and his +wife were accomplices of the smugglers. + +Some short time after, Pat had an opportunity of discovering the use of +the well as an inlet and outlet of the smugglers, and conceived the idea +that contraband goods were stowed away at the bottom of it. He had seen +a man, after talking to the woman at the spot, descend, and then come up +again, and depart. + +"Now's my turn," says Pat to himself, as he came out from his +hiding-place, and went to the well. As every sailor could let himself +down by a rope, and ascend by it likewise, Pat was soon at the bottom of +the well, but found nothing. He began his ascent, working away with his +hands and feet in a manner which a sailor only understands. He was +gaining more daylight, and hoping that he should get out before the +woman (whom he concluded had gone for help) should return. He had gained +the very part where the archway into the cave was formed, and there +found a sort of stay, or bar, at the opposite side, to rest his leg +upon. He was taking advantage of this post to get breath, and had just +swung off again to ascend, when he felt his ankles grasped by a powerful +pair of pincers, as it seemed, and in another instant such a jerk as +compelled him instantly to let go the rope, and he came with all his +weight against the side of the well. Stunned he was, but not a bone was +broken, for his tormentors had taken the precaution to have a +well-stuffed hammock ready to break his fall. He was in a moment in the +cave, and when reviving, heard such a burst of unearthly merriment, he +could think of nothing but that he had arrived at that dreaded +purgatory, to escape which he had paid so much to his priest. + +In a faint, feeble voice, Pat was heard to exclaim--"O, Father O'Gharty; +O, Father O'Gharty, deliver me!" + +This caused such another burst, and such a roar of "O, Father O'Gharty! +O, Father O'Gharty!" from so many voices, that the poor fellow groaned +aloud. But a voice, which he fancied he had heard when on earth, +addressed him, as he lay with his eyes just opening to a red glare of +burning torches. + +"Patrick O'Brien! Patrick O'Brien! welcome to the shades below." + +Pat blinked a little, and opened his eyes wider, and saw, as he thought, +twenty or thirty ghosts of smugglers, whom he supposed had been shot by +the coastguard, and were answering for their sins in purgatory. + +"Come, Pat, take a drop of moonshine, my hearty, to qualify the water +you have taken into your stomach: this liquid flame will warm the cold +draught." + +Pat had need of something to warm him, but had no idea of drinking +flame. + +"I hope," he said, "your majesty will excuse a poor Irishman." + +"No excuse! no excuse! By the saint, your namesake, you shall swallow +this gill, or maybe you'll have a little more water to simmer in." + +Pat made no further opposition; and one of the uncouth, black-bearded +demons, handed him a cup of as bright, shining liquid as any which the +sons of whisky ever saw. + +"Drink, Pat, drink," said the fellow; "a short life and a merry one." + +"Och!" sighed Pat, and the next moment the burning liquid ran down his +throat, warming his inside with such a glow, as made the blood circulate +rapidly through every vein of his body. Whether it was the pure gin he +had drunk, or the naturally aspiring disposition of the man, he began to +look around him, and to note the habitation in which they dwelt. Pikes +and guns were slung here and there; cables and casks lay about the room; +swords and pistols--weapons which seemed more adapted to fleshly men +than disembodied spirits--made the reviving spirit of this son of the +Emerald Isle bethink him that he had fallen into the hands of mortals. +He now looked a little more wise, and began to give a good guess at the +truth, when the one who seemed to be the captain of the band soon +dissipated all his doubts by saying, "Patrick O'Brien, here's to +Lieutenant Barry and the preventive service. Come, Pat, drink to your +commander, 'tis the last time you will ever be in such good company." + +These words convinced him that he was in the smugglers' cave; and as he +knew them to be most desperate fellows, his own lot did not appear much +more happy than when he thought himself in the company of evil spirits. + +"Come, Pat, drink. You need a little comfort." + +Pat drank, and though he foresaw that no good could come to him, yet as +the spirit poured in, and his heart grew warm, he thought he would not +seem afraid, so he drank "Success to Lieutenant Barry and the +coastguard!" + +"Now, Pat, one more glass, and we part for ever." + +Ominous words--"part for ever!" He heartily wished himself again in his +own dear island, ere he had ventured a peep at the bottom of the well. +The smugglers--for such he found they were--grinned upon him most +unceremoniously, as if they had some horrid purpose in view, and seemed +to enjoy the natural timidity which began to creep over his frame. + +Pat drank his last glass: John Luff arose, commanded silence, and, in as +gentle a voice as such a fellow could assume, said, "Mr. Patrick +O'Brien, you are welcome now to your choice of departure." + +"Thank ye, gemmen, thank ye, and I shall not forget your hospitality." + +Pat rose, as if to depart. + +"Mr. Patrick O'Brien, the choice of departure we give you is the choice +of death!" + +Pat's heart sank within him, but he did not lose all his courage or +presence of mind; and the latter quality suggested to him that he would +try a little blarney. + +"Why, gemmen, you wouldn't kill a poor fellow in cold blood, would you?" + +"No, Pat, no; and for that reason we have made you welcome to a drop, +that you may not die a cold-blooded death. Draw swords!" + +In an instant twenty sharp blades were unsheathed. + +"Now, Mr. O'Brien, take your choice: shall every man have a cut at +you--first a leg, then a hand, then an arm, and so on, until your head +only shall remain--or will you be rolled up in a hammock for a sack, as +your winding-sheet, and, well shotted, sink as a sailor to the bottom of +those waters we have just quitted?" + +"Thank your honour," said the poor victim of their cruelty, "thank your +honour; and of the two I had rather have neither." + +There was no smile upon any of the ferocious countenances around him, +and Pat's hopes of anything but cruelty forsook him. Just at this moment +the bucket descended the well, and in came Will Laud, or Captain Laud, +as he was called, who, acquainted with the fact of the Irishman's +descent (for he was the very person whom Pat had seen to make his exit, +and had been informed by the woman of his being drowned), was a little +relieved to see the man standing in the midst of his men unscathed. + +He soon understood the position in which he was placed, and, after a few +words with his Lieutenant, John Luff, himself repeated the already +determined sentence of his crew. + +So calm was his voice, so fixed his manner, that the bold Irishman +perceived at once that his doom was at hand. Assuming, therefore, his +wonted courage, making up his mind to death, he looked the commander in +the face, and with the composure of a mind comparatively at ease, said-- + +"Since I must die, let me die dacently. My choice is made--the hammock +for my winding-sheet, the water for my grave, and God forgive you all." + +Not a word more did the brave fellow utter, but stood like a hero, or a +martyr, ready for execution. + +Now to the credit of Laud be it recorded, that in his soul he admired +the intrepidity of the man's spirit; and murder, base murder of a bold +man, never was his intention. + +He whispered to his mate, though in a moment after he exclaimed to his +crew, "Do your duty." + +Pat was tripped up, rolled up in the hammock, swung upon the chain, +heard the whistle, and in an instant found himself, as he thought, +descending to the shades below. In fact, however, he was ascending, +though consciousness for a time forsook him, and the swoon of +anticipated suffocation bereft him of his senses. When he did recover, +he found himself at the bottom of a boat, bounding over the billows, and +was soon on board a ship. Here he revived, and was treated by the crew +with kindness; but after many days he was put ashore on the eastern +coast of his own dear isle, with this gentle admonition:-- + +"Patrick O'Brien, 'all's well that ends well.' Let well alone for the +future, and now farewell." + +So ended this spree, which may serve to show the mind and habits of +those men with whom Will Laud had to deal. + +At times these desperate men would be mutinous, but their common +interest kept them together. The persons of several were known along the +coast, and farmers found it to their interest to wink at their +peccadilloes. + +It was no uncommon thing for them to have their horses taken out of the +fields, or even out of their stables, for a run at night; but they were +sure of a handsome present being left upon their premises--casks of gin, +real Hollands, packets of linen; and, sometimes learning the thing most +wanted by a particular farmer, he would be surprised to find it directed +to him by an unknown hand, and delivered, without charge, at his door. + +The handsomest saddles and bridles which could be procured, whips, +lamps, lanterns, handsome pairs of candlesticks, guns, pistols, +walking-sticks, pipes, &c., were, at various houses, left as presents. +Such was the state of the traffic, that the best spirits could be always +had at the farm-houses on the coast (for all knew where it might be had +without difficulty), only let the money be left for it with the order. +In this manner was the revenue defrauded; and there were men in high +authority who used to defend the practice by calling it England's best +nursery for seamen. Seldom, however, were good men secured from these +sources. The generality of smugglers were not such as England wanted to +defend her liberty and laws. + +About this time so many presents were sent to Margaret, and left in such +a clandestine manner at or near the cottage, that although she herself +was never corrupted by any one of these temptations, yet the effects of +them began to show themselves in her family. Charles, the elder brother, +used to find the presents, and dispose of them to Mrs. Cracknell, and he +found his own gains so rapidly increase that he began to be idle; would +not go to plough; disliked working on the land; took to carpentering at +the old sexton's at Nacton; learned to read and write; and again +encouraged his old _penchant_ for soldiering. At length he left his +parents and friends, and enlisted in the 33rd regiment of foot, under +the fictitious name of Jacob Dedham, at the Black Horse public-house, +St. Mary Elm's, Ipswich. He passed himself off as belonging to that +parish; and but for the accidental circumstance of a Nacton lad, of the +name of Calthorpe, seeing him at the inn, his friends and relatives +would have been ignorant of his departure. His regiment soon after his +enlistment sailed for the East Indies; and the history of Charles +Catchpole, alias Jacob Dedham, would of itself form no uninteresting +narrative. He rose in his regiment by great steadiness and assiduity. He +became a singular adept at learning Eastern languages and customs. He +was taken great notice of by Sir William Jones, the great Oriental +linguist, who recommended him to a very important charge under Lord +Cornwallis, who employed him in a confidential duty, as a spy, upon the +frontiers of Persia. We shall have occasion to contemplate him in a +future part of this history. For the present we pass on to some further +fruits of the smuggler's intimacy with the Catchpoles. + +Robert, another son, in consequence of the unwholesome introduction of +rapid profits, took to drinking, smoking, and idle company, and very +soon brought himself to an early grave; giving the deepest pangs to his +parents, and creating sorrow and suffering to all. He died of delirium +tremens, in the year 1791. + +James became a poacher, and was shot in a desperate affray with the +gamekeepers of Admiral Vernon. He lingered on his brother's bed until +December 15th, 1792, and expired in deep distress, and with a +declaration to poor Margaret, that it was her acquaintance with Laud +that brought him to ruin. The youngest son alone preserved any steady +fixed principles, and was the prop of his parents' hopes. + +The whole family now fell into disrepute, and the bitterest days of +adversity followed. Tales began to be circulated of Margaret's +connexion with the smuggler. Sailors were seen to come and go from the +cottage; and if they went but to ask for information, the lying tongue +of slander was sure to propagate some infamous story. It was true that +presents were left about the cottage, and that agents of the Cracknells +were ready to receive them; but Margaret never touched a single thing +that was so found. She was not insensible to all she saw, and she felt +the full weight of Laud's misconduct; but she never forgot to pray for +him, and hoped, with that fondness which true love only can know, that +he would one day be converted. But she partook of the ignominy which now +visited her family, though she assuredly did not deserve it. She +recommended her father to take another cottage, and even to seek work +under another master. Anything she considered would be better than a +place where he met with such continual misfortunes. + +It must not be supposed that Mrs. Denton was unkind to Margaret, though +her own servants took every opportunity to persuade her that she was a +very worthless person--she seemed to think a removal would be best. +Accordingly Jonathan Catchpole changed his abode, and, from a regular +workman on that farm, became a jobbing labourer wherever he could find +employment. He and his family lived at a lone cottage on the borders of +Nacton Heath. Edward became a shepherd's boy, and Margaret had serious +thoughts of once more going out to service; but where? Alas! she +remembered how happy she had been in her first place, and the very +remembrance of that happiness made her shrink from having to relate to +her former benefactor the then miserable consequences of her first +attachment. + +Laud's father shared in the general stigma attached to his son's +name--he was accused of conniving at the youth's excesses, and lost his +situation as ferryman of the government packets from Harwich to Languard +Fort. What miseries, heaped one upon the other, now fell with blighting +force upon poor Margaret! + +But a greater trial just now awaited her--a dreadful conflict took place +below Felixstowe beach between the coastguard and Laud's crew. A run was +planned and put in execution from the Walton Marshes for +Woodbridge--carts were brought to the cliff, the coastguard, as was +thought, being attracted to Sizewell Gap, and everything being open +before the smugglers. The cargo was landed, and the run began, when the +preventive-service men, who had been secretly informed of the intended +_ruse_ at Sizewell Gap, came out of their hiding-place in a double band, +headed by Lieutenant Edward Barry, a brave young sailor, second son of +Mr. Henry Barry, a miller and farmer, of Levington Hill. The onset was +tremendous, and the resistance deadly; but might and right were on one +side, and bore down the stalwart forms of the violent smugglers. + +Three of the crew were killed, and the others, unable to stand against +the assault, fled as well as they were able. Young Barry and Laud had a +severe personal encounter, in which the death of one or the other seemed +the determination of both. Laud was the most powerful man, but Barry was +the most expert swordsman; but what was the experience of the sword-arm +in so dark a night? The two commanders seemed to know each other even in +the darkness, for they fought with voices of encouragement to their men. +The smugglers had fled, and Laud began to fear he was alone; but the +pursuers, too, had gone, and still the two captains were contending. At +this moment the contest was most deadly--Laud had wounded young Barry by +a thrust. Though it was slight it was felt by the officer, and he +determined neither to ask nor to give quarter. Laud had driven him up +the side of a bank, and was in the act of giving a thrust at his heart, +as Barry, with the advantage of his situation, like lightning gave a cut +at his head, which at once went through his hat, and descended upon his +forehead. Down fell the smuggler like a thunderbolt, and another moment +the sword would have been buried in his side, had not Barry been +compelled to act on the defensive by the opposition of John Luff. + +Finding a new antagonist, and being himself wounded, this young man +thought best to gather up his strength for a defensive retreat. He was +not pursued. Hearing some of his own men he called to them, and, +recognizing him, they advanced with him to the spot where, as Barry +supposed, Captain Laud lay dead. But Luff had thrown him over his +shoulder, and, being well acquainted with the marshes, had carried him +over some planks, and so escaped. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +DECEIT + + +Margaret was seated in her father's cottage, now no longer that happy +spot it used to be to her, but a change of abode had brought no rest +from the troubles and anxieties of her mind: that very day she had heard +of the dreadful encounter between the coastguard and the smugglers, and +the report of the death of Will Laud, the notorious commander. + +Margaret heard of her lover's death, as may be supposed, with the +deepest emotion; but she was not satisfied that the accounts she +received were correct, and had serious intentions of going to the +ferryman's house to make inquiries for herself, when a rap came at their +lone door, and who should come in but the ferryman himself, the father +of Laud. The old man seemed to observe the altered state of the family +upon whom he intruded himself, and could not help saying, at once,-- + +"I bring you bad news, Margaret, very bad, and of my poor boy." The old +man paused, and Margaret's heart quailed, but in the next moment it +revived. "But he would have me bring it!" + +"Is he not dead then?" exclaimed the poor girl, as with a bound, she +seized the aged ferryman by the arm; "is he not dead?" + +"No, not yet--at least he was not when I left him two hours ago, and he +would make me come to you, and tell you he wished earnestly to see you +before he died." + +"Where is he? where is he?" exclaimed Margaret. + +"At my poor cot on Walton Cliff; but oh, Margaret, so altered, so +dreadfully marked, and so unhappy, that if you do see him I question +much if you will know him. But will you come and see him?" + +"Will I?--that I will! Only you sit down and eat a bit, and I will soon +be ready." + +It took but a short space of time for Margaret to make preparation for +her journey. Laud was alive, though ill, dangerously ill; still she +might be the means of restoring him, if not to health of body, at least +to a more healthy state of mind. She is ready, and the old man and +Margaret depart together. + +"Is he much hurt?" was Margaret's first question, after they had +advanced beyond the heath on to the high-road; "is he much wounded?" + +"I fear he is. At times he is like a madman, raving at everything, +cursing all smugglers and his own misfortunes. The fever is high upon +him; he glares wildly at the old woman I have got to do for him--calls +her a smuggler's hag; and then he mentions you, Margaret, and the tears +roll down his face, and he finds relief. His wound is on the forehead--a +deep gash, through the bone; and the pain he suffers from the dressing +is dreadful." + +"Have you had a surgeon?" + +"No, Margaret, no--I dare not: I fear lest he should betray himself. His +life would be forfeit to his country's outraged laws, and he would die a +more bitter death than now awaits him in my cot." + +There ran a sensitive shudder through poor Margaret's frame as she +thought of the situation of her lover. Parental affection had been more +cautious than she would have been, and she secretly rejoiced. She +thought likewise of her own situation; but selfishness had no portion in +her soul. Laud might die! The thought was agonizing; but he would die, +perhaps, a true penitent. This was surely better than being suddenly +sent out of the world with all his sins upon his head. She felt thankful +for so much mercy. + +"Does he ever seem sorry for his crimes?" she inquired of the old man. + +"I cannot exactly say he does," was the reply, "though he speaks so +vehemently against his captain. I wish he saw his situation in a more +forcible light." + +"Time may be given him for that yet, Mr. Laud; at least, I pray God it +may be so." + +"Amen, say I; amen!" + +"How did he find you out? How did he reach home?" + +"He was brought here upon a comrade's back, a stout sailor, who came +accompanied by old Dame Mitchel, who, if report speaks truth, is well +acquainted with the smugglers. She says that John Luff, the captain's +mate, brought poor Will to her house; and when he learned that I was +living only half a mile off, he persuaded her to come and help me to do +for him. He brought him to me at night." + +With conversation of this kind, the father and the maiden pursued their +course till they arrived at a very sequestered cottage, near the ruins +of Walton Castle, close to that celebrated spot where the Earl of +Leicester landed with his Flemings in A.D. 1173. "It stood upon a high +cliff, about the distance of a mile from the mouth of the Woodbridge +haven, two miles from the Orwell. At this time but few stones mark the +spot. There is little doubt that it was a Roman fortification, as a +great many urns, rings, coins, and torques, have been found in that +neighbourhood. It is supposed to have been built by Constantine the +Great when he withdrew his legions from the frontier towns in the east +of Britain, and built forts or castles to supply the want of them." So +says the old _Suffolk Traveller_. + +Our travellers arrived at this lone cottage, where a faint, glimmering +light from the low window told that the watch was still kept at the sick +man's bed. The father entered first, and soon returned, telling Margaret +that she might come in, as sleep, for the first time since the night he +had been brought home, had overpowered Laud's senses. + +By the faint gleam of that miserable light, Margaret perceived how +dreadfully altered were the features of her lover. He lay in a heavy, +hard-breathing, lethargic sleep, and the convulsive movements of his +limbs, and a restless changing of the position of his arms, told that, +however weary the body, the spirit was in a very agitated state; and, +oh! how deadly, how livid was his countenance! Scarcely could Margaret +think it the same she had been accustomed to look upon with so much +pleasure: the brow was distorted with pain, the lips scorched with +fever--a stiff white moisture exuded from his closed eyelids. A painful +moan escaped his heaving chest, and at last he surprised the listeners +by a sudden painful cry. + +"Margaret, ahoy! Margaret, ahoy! Hullo! hullo! Don't run away. Here, +here! I want you!" + +And then his limbs moved, just as if he was in the act of running after +some one. + +The fever was evidently high upon him, and poor Margaret was herself +greatly afflicted at seeing his extreme suffering. She gave way to +tears, which affected the poor father so much that the old man could not +refrain from weeping. The woman alone seemed composed; as if she had +been accustomed to scenes of horror, she exhibited no signs of +tenderness or concern. She continued to mumble a piece of brown bread +which she held in her hand, lifting up her brows from time to time, and +darting her sharp grey eyes, first at the smuggler, then at the girl, +and then at the old man, but without uttering or seeming to hear a word, +or to feel a single human emotion. + +As she looked upon her, a thought shot through Margaret's brain of no +very friendly nature toward the singular being before her--she could not +help thinking that this Moggy Mitchel was a sort of spy upon her lover. +How keen, how quick, how apprehensive is true love! + +To prove that Margaret's suspicion was not altogether groundless, that +very night the old woman went out of the house, under pretence of seeing +what sort of night it was; and as Margaret sat watching by the bedside +of Laud, the moon, which was just rising above the summit of the cliff, +showed her, through the lattice, two dark figures standing together. She +could not, of course, distinguish their features, but the outlines of +their forms were very strong, and not to be mistaken--she was sure it +was John Luff and Dame Mitchel, and that they were in close conversation +on the verge of the cliff. + +The old woman shortly returned to the room, and it was evident to +Margaret that something had excited her. + +"We must get him well as soon as we can," were the first words she +uttered; and had not her former coolness and her late meeting upon the +cliff awakened in Margaret's mind some sinister motive prompting this +speech, she might have been deceived by it. + +Margaret had the deepest and purest motives for desiring the young man's +restoration to health: she loved him, and she hoped to re-establish his +character, and to recover him not only from his sick-bed, but from his +state of degradation. But in all her efforts she found herself +frustrated by the interference of this beldame, who, as William +progressed towards recovery, was constantly keeping alive within him +some reports of the successes of the crew, of their kind inquiries after +his health, and the hopes they had of soon seeing him among them. +Independently of this, there came presents and compliments from Captain +Bargood, and these increased as Laud recovered. + +Nothing so much stung Margaret's heart as to find that all her +attentions, prayers, entreaties, and admonitions, were counteracted by +the secret influences of these agencies; but her object was a righteous +one, and she did not slacken in her endeavours to attain it. She found, +as Laud gradually recovered, that he was fully sensible of his past +folly, and quite alive to the devoted affection she had shown to him; +but she found also that no touch of religious feeling blended with his +regret for his past conduct. + +This gave her the deepest pang, for she would rather have heard him +offer one thanksgiving to the Being to whom all thanks are due, than +find herself the object of his praise and gratitude. + +It was at this time that Margaret wished she had been a scholar. There +was a Bible in the cottage, an old black-letter edition, containing the +Book of Common Prayer, the genealogies recorded in the sacred +Scriptures, together with the Psalms of David, in metre, by Sternhold +and Hopkins, with curious old diamond-headed notes of the tunes to each +psalm. + +Margaret would gladly have read the holy book to her lover, but she +might as well have had a Hebrew edition before her, for not a word could +she decipher. He could read, and her only way of inducing him so to do +was by expressing her desire to hear him read. She found this, however, +a difficult and dangerous task, for, independently of the distaste which +the old woman had to the Bible, she found her lover very restless and +feverish after any exertion of the kind. Where the spirit is unwilling, +how irksome is the task! + +"How plain is that description you read to me this morning of our first +parents' fall," said Margaret one day, when the enemy was absent: "how +plainly it shows us the necessity of our denying ourselves anything and +everything which God has forbidden us!" + +"It does, indeed, Margaret; but no man can help sinning!" + +"I doubt that--I think Adam could have done so." + +"Then why did he sin, Margaret?" + +"You read to me, that the woman tempted him or persuaded him, and that +the serpent beguiled her into sin: so that the serpent was the author of +sin." + +"Yes: and the woman was first deceived, and then deceived her husband. +You must admit that she was the worst of the two." + +"I own that she was, and is the weakest; but her sorrows appear to have +been the greater, and she has been little better than a slave to man +ever since." + +"Well, Margaret, well, you have been very kind to me, and I know now +that you are a good girl, and wish me to be good. I wish I may be +better." + +"Do not only wish it, dear William, but pray to God to make you so, and +I do think that He will." + +"Well, well, I will be better--yes, I will, if I get over this blow on +the head; but oh, how it aches! You must not bewilder me too much." + +So did this interesting conversation cease, by the man's appeal to his +want of strength, when he was asserting a will of his own, which, though +bold in words, was but fickle in actions. + +Every day, as her patient advanced towards recovery, was poor Margaret +more and more convinced that Laud wanted stability of purpose to resist +evil,--he was, like every passionate man, self-willed and wicked. +Margaret, though at this time uneducated, had been a very attentive +listener to all good instruction--she was far from being ignorant of +right and wrong. Her principles were good, and through her most eventful +years she exhibited but one great error, which was her blind passion for +the unhappy man whom she would have made, if she could, a better being; +and every day she found a more persevering enemy in Mrs. Mitchel, who +counteracted all her salutary influence with Laud. Silent and morose as +this woman was at times, she could be loquacious enough when it suited +her own purpose. + +"I have," said she, one day, "just left a choice set of fellows upon the +beach, as merry a set, Will, as I ever saw, and all rejoicing in your +improvement. Luff holds your office until you join them again. They +have had fine success lately, since young Barry is laid by the leg. I +have brought you a box of raisins, and such a choice can of sweetmeats, +as a present from the captain." + +"Ah! they are all good fellows, but I do not think that I shall ever +join them again." + +"Pshaw, my lad! this is only a love-fit for the moment." (Margaret was +absent upon an errand.) "If that girl does not know what it is to have a +high-spirited young fellow like yourself for a lover, without making him +a poor, tame, milk-and-water poodle, why then she ought to make herself +always as scarce as she is at this moment. I have no patience with the +girl--she does not know her own interest. I suppose she would have you +stick to the plough's tail, or toil all day at the spade, and bring her +home a hard-earned pittance at the week's-end. Pshaw! Will, you are +formed for better things." + +"But she's a good girl, Moggy," said Will. + +"Oh, aye! the girl is well enough, and decent too. I don't mean to say +she would not make a chap a good sort of wife either, but she's not the +sort of girl for you, Will. She's no spirit about her. She don't see how +a young fellow like you can do better by her, in a bold, dashing way, +than by such tame, dull, plodding industry as her family use." + +"No; but then she wishes to see me happy, and I might be popped off the +next skirmish." + +"You always look on the black side of things. Here are your fellows +making their fortunes rapidly, and you talking of drudging on, in a +quiet, stupid way, with the chance of being informed against and +executed for your past doings. Young Barry won't easily forgive you." + +"Nor I him, either," was the significant reply, with a clenching of the +fist and a grinding of the teeth, which proved how artfully the hag had +worked upon Laud's worst feelings. + +Margaret, on her return, could perceive that her absence had been taken +advantage of to effect a purpose adverse to all her hopes. + +Against all these disadvantages, however, Margaret combated with some +success, and by degrees had the happiness of seeing her patient get the +better of his sufferings. The wound would have healed sooner and better, +had Laud's mind been kept free from feverish excitement. It did heal up, +though not so well as Margaret wished--a frightful scar extended over +the _os frontis_, directly to the high cheek-bone. For a long time the +eye seemed as if it had perished, but as the fever abated its sight +returned. + +It will be sufficient to record, that in due time Laud perfectly +recovered, and the services of his nurses became no longer necessary. + +If at this time any situation had offered itself by which Laud could +have gained an honest livelihood, he would, probably, have accepted it, +and become an honest man; and in talking with Margaret of his future +life, he promised that she should never again hear of anything against +him. He would go to sea, and earn an honest livelihood, even if he was +obliged to serve a foreigner. + +"Well, Laud, I will trust you again," said Margaret, on the day she took +her leave of him: "I will trust you again, William, though my heart +aches bitterly at parting with you, whilst you have no regular +employment, but I shall pray for you wherever I am. I shall probably go +to service soon, for I do not like to be a burden to my friends." + +They parted affectionately, for Laud felt that he owed his life to her +care; and she, that all her hopes of future comfort in this life were +centred in his welfare. Yet that very night did William Laud meet his +former comrades, and was persuaded to join their crew at the Bawdsey +Cave, to assume the name of Hudson, and to become again neither more nor +less than a desperate smuggler. + +We will not follow him through his career of guilt: suffice it to say, +that he contrived to send word to Margaret that he had entered into the +service of a Dutch trader, and was promised a future share of his ship. +He pretended to have quitted the society of the smugglers, who at that +time so infested the eastern coasts of this country; and as she heard no +more of his name, and received no more suspicious presents, she suffered +her heart to cherish the fond hope of his reformation. + +The anticipation of days to come, and the promised pleasure of those +days, are always greater than are ever realized by mortals. It is, +however, one of the greatest blessings of life to anticipate good. The +hope, too, of another's welfare, and of being the humble instrument of +promoting the interest of another, is the sweetest bond of woman's +cherished affection. Truly may such be termed man's helpmate, who would +do him good, and not evil, all the days of his life. + +Poor Margaret found, that the more she hoped for Laud's amendment, the +more constant became her attachment, the more she excused his past life, +and the more deeply her heart became engaged to him. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +WILD SCENES + + +Margaret, true to her intentions of going to service, found a kind +friend in Mrs. Denton, who recommended her to Mrs. Wake, of the Priory +Farm, Downham Reach. Here, in September, 1792, she took up her abode as +servant-of-all-work. The whole farm-house was formerly the priory of a +small body of Augustine Monks, and was known by the name of the +Alneshbourne Priory. It is surrounded by a moat of considerable depth +and breadth, and was formerly approached by a drawbridge from the +southern side. + +The site of this old house is still a most romantic and sequestered +spot. In front of it, along a pleasant green slope to the shore, runs a +rippling stream, which having passed through the moat, meanders along +the meadow down to the Orwell, whose broad waters look here like a +magnificent lake. + +On either side of the valley rise the rich woods of Downham Reach; and +behind the house, in the green meadows, may still be seen, though now +covered in with a roof and used as a barn, the chapel of this +sequestered fraternity. + +Lofty elms overshadow the summit of this ancient house, though they grow +upon the open space beyond the moat; and the woods of the owner of the +present house and the district, Sir Philip Broke, stand conspicuously +towering on the sides of the hills. The lover of peaceful nature could +not fail to be struck with the tranquil yet picturesque scenery around +this spot. Here Gainsborough, who, in his younger days, was much +encouraged by Dr. Coyte of Ipswich, loved to roam, and catch the +ever-varying tints of spring and autumn. Here Constable,--the +enthusiastic, amiable, but pensive John Constable, one of the best of +England's landscape-painters,--indulged himself in all the hopes of his +aspiring genius; and Frost, a native of Ipswich, one of the best +imitators of Gainsborough's style, and whose sketches are at this day +most highly esteemed, used to indulge himself in the full enjoyment of +his art. + +At the period we write of--the year 1792--the Orwell's waves went boldly +up to the port, as new and briny as in the days of the Danish invasion. +Now they no longer wash the town. A wet-dock, with its embankments and +its locks, shuts out the ebb and flow of waters, and may be convenient +to the inhabitants of the place; but sadly interferes with the early +associations and recollections of those who, like the writer of this +narrative, passed their boyish years upon the banks of the Orwell. + +But we must no longer wander from our narrative. Margaret, as servant at +the Priory Farm, conducted herself in so exemplary a manner, that she +soon gained the good will of her master and mistress, and the good word +of all the labourers upon the farm. Amongst these latter was a young man +who was particularly acquainted with Margaret's history, and whose name +has occurred in a previous chapter. This was no other than John Barry, +the elder brother of young Edward Barry, who so gallantly led the attack +upon the smugglers on the night in which Will Laud was supposed to have +been killed. John was well aware of Margaret's attachment and engagement +to Will Laud; and he knew the part his brother had taken in the +conflict; and believed, as Edward told him, that he had slain Margaret's +lover. Whether it was the sympathy which arose toward the poor girl +under these circumstances, or the real pleasure which he felt in her +society, it is certain that he became so deeply enamoured as never to be +able to root out of his mind this his first and last attachment. + +This young man was a contrast in every respect to Will Laud. John Barry +was the elder son of a small farmer and miller at Levington, who, having +a numerous family, was anxious they should all be employed. John, as was +customary in that day, sought employment away from his parents' house. +He had asked their permission to let him turn his hand to farming for a +year; and as he was already a good ploughman, and understood the various +methods of culture, he readily found an employer. He was also as good a +scholar for that period as could be found in any of the adjoining +parishes. Added to this, he was a good-principled, steady, persevering, +industrious young man. His father was not badly off in the world for his +station. He it was who first discovered the use of crag-shells for +manure. His man, Edmund Edwards, finding a load or two of manure was +wanted to complete the fertilization of a field which Mr. Barry +cultivated, carried a load or two of the crag, which lay near the mill, +to make it up. He observed, that in the very place which he thought +would prove the worst crop, on account of the seeming poverty of the +soil carted, there arose the most luxuriant produce. Next year Mr. Barry +used it more freely, and found a more abundant recompense. He then +opened immense crag-pits, supplied the country around, and shipped a +large quantity at Levington Creek. By these means he became known as an +enterprising man. His second son took to the sea, and became active in +the service of his native coast. Another son went out to America, and +did remarkably well. + +John went as head man to Mr. Wake, of the Priory Farm. When he left his +father's house, the worthy miller gave him one guinea, with this +advice-- + +"Many a man, John, has entered into the world with less than that, and +by industry, integrity, and good behaviour, has risen to usefulness and +respectability; and many a man, John, who has entered upon life with +thousands and thousands of those shining coins, has sunk to +worthlessness and degradation. Go, boy; be honest, sober, steady, and +diligent. Keep your church and God's commandments, John, and you will +prosper. But should misfortune ever visit you, remember that whilst your +mother and I live you will always find a welcome home. God bless you, +boy! God bless you!" + +John left home, with a guinea in his pocket and with love in his heart. +He did well, even in his first situation. He lived in the farm-house +with Mr. and Mrs. Wake, about seven miles from his father's house. He +did not then dream that he should ever visit any distant shore connected +with his native country. His dreams were of home, industry, and peace. +He had enough--was contented--was well respected; had good health and +full employment, and was a burden to no one. From his constant habit of +witnessing the energy, and activity, and good disposition of the +youthful Margaret, and from a certain knowledge of her past misfortunes, +he imbibed a delicacy of interest in her behalf, which was shown to her +by repeated acts of respect, which others on the farm less delicate did +not care to show. Margaret herself perceived these attentions, and felt +grateful to him for them. Whilst some would now and then relate what +they heard of the wild adventures of Hudson the smuggler, John Barry +always carefully concealed any mention of matters which he could see +gave her pain. So cautious had been his advances towards a more intimate +acquaintance with Margaret, that no one on the farm suspected that John +Barry, the son of the well-to-do Mr. Barry, of Levington, was in the +least captivated by the humble maid of the Priory. Margaret, however, +suspected and dreaded that such might be the case; and she avoided him +as pointedly as she could, without offence to one whom she so much +respected. Barry, however, was too honest to conceal his feelings from +the only person he wished to know them. Returning one evening from work +along Gainsborough's Lane, he met Margaret, who had been to Sawyer's +farm upon an errand for her mistress. + +"Margaret, you know I love you," said the young man, "though I do not +believe that any one upon the farm besides yourself has any idea of it." + +"I feared you did, John, and it grieves me very much to hear you say +so." + +"But why should it grieve you? I love you honestly, and will always do +my best to make you happy." + +"Yes, John, I do not doubt you in anything you say, and I feel very +grateful to you for your kindness; but I cannot return your love." + +"Why not, Margaret? Why should you not learn to like me? I am not indeed +like your former lover, but I think I love you quite as well." + +"That may be also, John; but when I tell you that it is impossible for +me to suffer you to cherish such feelings, you will, I hope, not be +angry with me." + +"I am not angry: I know your past attachment; but I hope that you do not +intend to live and die single because Laud is dead." + +"No; but whilst he lives, John, I neither can nor ought to give +encouragement to any other." + +"But he is dead!" + +"I would let any one else but yourself suppose so." + +"My brother Edward told me himself that he saw him fall." + +"Yes, John, and your brother Edward thought that he gave him his +death-blow; but I am happy, for his sake and for Laud's, that it was not +so." + +"Are you sure of this?" sighed the youth, as if he half regretted that +his brother had not done so. "Are you sure of this?" + +"Quite so--quite so! To no one else would I speak it, but I am sure of +your goodness. I know you will not betray me." + +"Never, Margaret, never!" + +"Well, then, these very hands healed the wound which your brother gave +him. I myself nursed him through his dangerous illness; and I know at +this time that he is in a respectable foreign merchant's service, and as +well as ever he was." + +This was a tremendous blow to the young man's prospects; an answer which +he did not in the least expect, and from which he could find no +encouragement. He begged Margaret's pardon for what he had said, which +was freely given, and a promise made on both sides never to divulge that +day's secret. Alas! this promise was broken by both, as we shall +presently see, at the very same moment. + +But where is Laud, and what is he doing at this time? While the +honest-hearted girl is denying all attachment to any but himself, and +living upon the hope of his future welfare and well-doing, what is _he_ +about? + +He is standing at the Green Cottage, as it was called, on account of the +green shutters which used to shade its casements, close to Butley Abbey. +The dark-frowning ruin of this seat of the black canons of St. Austin, +formerly so grand and extensive, was then in a state of crumbling +desolation. Here, close against that magnificent old gateway, seemingly +in mock grandeur, was a very fine arch, surmounted with the arms of +Michael de la Pole, the third Lord Wingfield, Earl of Suffolk, who was +slain at the battle of Agincourt with Edward Plantagenet, Duke of York. + +Not far from these ruins, with a mind somewhat partaking of the darkness +of that desolation, stood Laud and Luff in close conversation; the +subject of which was no other than Margaret Catchpole! + +Luff had found out Laud's deep-rooted fancy for the maiden, and, villain +as he was, was proposing a deep-laid scheme for the destruction of the +poor girl, who at that very time was undergoing a severe trial of her +affection. + +"I'll tell you what, Laud, the thing is easily to be done. We have +nothing to do but to run the cutter, at the beginning of our next +voyage, into Harwich Harbour, at the fall of the evening, when the mists +hide us from the shore; you and I can run up the Orwell in the gig, and +soon carry off the prize. Once on board, and she is yours as long as you +like." + +"I think I shall leave the service and marry." + +"And get a halter for your pains! No, Will; no, my boy; you are made of +sterner stuff than that. What! for the sake of a girl whom you may have +for many a cruise, and who will like you all the better for your spirit, +would you consent to run the land-robber's risk of being hanged? You +will soon have a new cutter, and your old crew; and though we may have a +long voyage, surely it will be far better to have your damsel with you, +though she may be unwilling at first, than to be living ashore in +continual fear of the officers of justice." + +"But Margaret supposes me at this moment in a foreign ship, and in an +honest trader." + +"Let her think so still. Only once get her on board the _Stour_, and +never trust me if we don't quickly run over to Holland, get you decently +married, and you may settle with her on shore in a short time." + +"Well, Luff, I think it might be done, and fairly, too; and if it be, +you shall have half my share of the prize upon the next run." + +"'Tis a bargain--'tis a bargain! and when we next meet in Bawdsey Cave, +our first trip shall be for the harbour. In the meantime, let us enjoy +ourselves as we can." + +The Green Cottage just mentioned, was one of those places hired by +Captain Bargood, on the eastern coast, which was always kept neat, and +ready for his occupation, by a dame whom he permitted to live in it +rent-free, and paid her something extra too for housekeeping. This was a +place of resort for his captains when out of immediate employ, when his +ships were repairing or building, at home or abroad. The method he took +to secure their services, and to keep them in readiness for the sea, was +to initiate them into the mysteries of poaching when on land. + +So well did this bold fellow play his cards, that his men seldom wanted +employment. + +Game they always had, in season or out of season--no matter--they stuck +at nothing! If they wished for a good custard at Whitsuntide, and made +of the richest eggs, they would have pheasants' and partridges' eggs by +hundreds. In fact these smugglers were as well known for poachers by +many of the people on the coast, as they were for dealers in contraband +goods. They, too, enjoyed the keen zest of the sportsman in a tenfold +manner, if the excitement of the field, the danger of the enterprise, +and the success of the sport, be any criterion by which the pleasure of +such things may be estimated. + +Tame, indeed, they considered the turn-out of the Marquis of Hertford, +with his green-brogued keepers, and their double-barrelled guns and +brushes, for a walk, or rather a stand, at the end of a plantation, +where the pheasants rose in a shower, and were killed like barn-door +fowls. They often saw the noble sportsmen turn into those coverts, +against which they knew they had been such successful poachers the very +night before. + +If hairbreadth escapes, contests with keepers, making nets, snares, and +gins, were amusements to these fellows, they had enough of them. They +could, upon occasion, bribe an unsteady keeper, or make him drunk, and +go his beat for him. All manner of desperate adventures were their +pleasures. Sometimes their society was courted by farmers and others, +who chanced to know, and would occasionally entertain them. Their +knowledge of all that was going on in and out of the country made them +welcome visitors to others; and in a very dangerous period of our +struggle at Flushing, when an order from the coast was to be carried in +spite of danger and difficulty, the intelligence and spirit of these men +were made use of by some in power, who could never countenance them +openly. + +One instance of a singular kind of frolic may here be mentioned, which +might have been of serious consequence to a young man of fortune. + +This gentleman resided in his own house, and upon his own estate, not +far from Hollesley Bay; and though possessed of many broad acres, +abundantly supplied with every species of game common to that country, +yet, singularly enough, he was an exception to that prevalent habit of +all country gentlemen--the being a sportsman. The writer of these pages +has often heard him narrate the following facts:-- + +Laud, or rather Hudson, as he was then called (for Laud was generally +supposed to be dead), met this young man at the Boyton Alms-houses, when +the following conversation arose:-- + +"Good morning to you, captain. But little stirring at sea, I suppose?" + +"We're ashore awhile upon a cruise." + +"So I suppose. What tack do you go upon tonight?" + +"That I know not, sir; but not hereabouts. We shall probably run down to +Orford." + +"I know you are all good hands. I never went sporting in my life, and +never saw any poaching. Now, captain, it's no use being qualmish upon +the subject, but upon my word I should like to see how you poachers +manage to take your game. You need not fear that I should inform against +you, or take advantage of your secrets--for I am no sportsman, as you +know, and care as little about game as any man; but I have heard so much +of your adroitness, and of the methodical manner in which you proceed, +that I really should like to see it. Come, what shall I give you to take +me with you to-night?" + +The smuggler looked at him with a very significant countenance, as much +as to say, "Are you in earnest? May I trust you?" It was very few he +thought he could trust; but there was a simplicity and honesty, a +straight-forward singleness of mind, and such a real, truthful +heartiness of character about the young man, that a far less shrewd man +than Laud could see there was no danger in him. So far from ever +intending evil to any one, he was kind even to a fault: witness his very +treatment of such a man as Laud. He had often seen him about his +marshes, or along the river's side, or in the village, or upon the +heath. He knew what Hudson was; and like many others in that retired +country, became an occasional talker with him, even upon the subject of +smuggling. He knew that his own horses came in for a share of +night-work, as well as his neighbours'; but he always found himself well +treated by the smugglers, and frequently acknowledged the receipt of +some acceptable present. He knew the habits of poaching which these +seamen enjoyed ashore, and he never interrupted them. His own lands were +always abounding in game for his friends, and he never knew that they +were poached. + +"Well, captain, what say you? Will you take me?" + +"That I will, with all my heart. Where will you meet me?" + +"Where you like. Where shall it be?" + +"Suppose my messmate and I call you at eleven o'clock? We can take a +glass of grog with you, and perhaps use your own cart and horse. We +shall most likely go to Iken or Orford. But I will see my mate, and have +everything arranged, and be with you by eleven." + +The honest bachelor who had made this appointment with Laud and Luff, +had no idea of his temerity and of the danger of the deed. He saw only, +for the time, a certain mystery, which he wished to see unravelled, and +forgot all the penalties the law attached to it. + +Our worthy bachelor received his two promising visitors at eleven +o'clock, having first sent every servant to bed, and parted with an aged +mother, who was ignorant, blessedly ignorant, of her son's movements at +such a time of night; Laud and Luff were let into the house; they came, +partook of his good cheer, and then opened upon the subject of their +campaign. + +They told him their intention to have a drag over some of the stubbles +of the Marquis of Hertford's estate, between Iken and Orford, and they +instructed him in the plan of operation. Five men were to meet them in +the lane leading down into Iken Wood: they carried a net capable of +covering four furrows. Not a single word must be spoken. Five would drag +in front, and three behind; one was to hold the check-string, by which +an alarm was conveyed to every one who had hold of the net. In case of a +sudden jerk at this string, each person dropped his hold of the net, and +ran for the nearest hedge, where he concealed himself until he heard the +signal to join forces again, which signal was for that night the crowing +of a cock. When by sundry kicks in the net they found that game was +enclosed, they were to drop the net, at the sound of a small reed +whistle, so low as only to be heard by those who were at a short +distance. As the young host was only a novice, it was proposed that he +should take his station between Hudson and Luff, his two visitors. + +After all proper hints had been repeated, and these worthies had +sufficiently regaled themselves, they all went to the cart-lodge; took +out the market-cart, harnessed the old chestnut gelding, something +between a cart-horse and a roadster, and off they started for as novel +an expedition as ever any man of fortune undertook. + +Will the reader believe that a man of good character--aye, and as +honest, upright, good-natured, kind-hearted, and benevolent a man, as +any of his rank and condition--a man of an intelligent and unwarped +mind--and one who through life was looked upon as good a neighbour as +could be--should so forget himself as to trust his reputation, his +honour--his very life and happiness (for at that time the Game Laws were +very severe), between two as great rascals as ever stole a head of game, +or shot a fellow-creature, in the frenzy of their career? + +The reader must imagine a man far above all want, and with every +blessing which an abundant fortune could supply, without any idea of +intending an affront to the lord of Orford, or any of his affluent +neighbours, seated in his own luggage-cart, with his very name written +in large letters, X. Y. Z., Esq., with his place of abode upon it! He +must imagine such a man, trusting himself between two notorious +characters merely for the spree of the moment, and purely for the sake +of curiosity running the risk of losing his character and his liberty, +and yet without a thought of his danger. Yet the tale is as true as it +is strange. Had not the writer heard the subject of it often declare the +fact, he should have believed it impossible. + +They are off, however, and Luff is the driver. As if acquainted with his +horse, and the horse with him, they went at a rate which astonished even +the owner of the animal. He had said, "Let me drive, for I understand +his humour"; but he found that another understood his own horse as well +as himself. This brute was like a donkey in one respect. Except you gave +him a jerk with the rein, and at the same time gave a rap on the sides +of the cart, you could not get him to move. What, then, was the surprise +of the Squire to find that a stranger could make the old horse go as +well as he could. But not a word was to be spoken--so in silence he +brooded over the singular knowledge of his coachman, and gave him +credit for his driving, which he richly deserved. It was evident the old +horse had been in his hands before that night. On they went through +Boyton, Butley, the borders of Eyke, to the lane leading down to Orford. +Here at a certain gate they stopped, and on the other side of the hedge +were the five men with the net. The old horse was tied to the gate, the +net unrolled, spread out, and, without a single word being spoken, each +man took his station. + +It was just the dawning of the morn, when they could hear the old cock +pheasants crowing to their mates, to come down from their perches to +feed. A rustling wind favoured the work; a large barley stubble was +before them, lying with a slope up to the famous preserve of Iken Wood. + +As they proceeded onward, sundry kicks in the net told of the captured +game, which was regularly and dexterously bagged, by the leading man +passing on to the net to the place of fluttering, and wringing the necks +of the said partridges, pheasants, hares, rabbits, or whatever they +were; then passing them along the meshes to the head of the net, whence +they were safely deposited in the different game-bags of the foremen. + +That this sport was as much enjoyed by these men as that enjoyed by the +best shot in the land; that these fellows were as expert in their +movements and as experienced as Colonel Hawker himself, and as bold as +any foxhunter in the country, is quite true. + +There was one in that party whose courage was soon put to the test, +after a fashion which he little calculated upon, and never forgot. + +After having bagged a considerable quantity of game, and swept several +acres of stubble, they were ascending the middle of the field, toward +the covert, when a sudden violent check of the alarm-string, which ran +from one to the other, told that they must drop the net, and be off. Off +they ran, helter-skelter, as fast as they could, to the nearest fence. + +The Squire's heart was in his throat, and his courage in his heels, as, +with unwonted speed, he ran for his life to the fence. Into brake and +briar, amidst nettles and thistles, brambles and thorns, dashed the hero +of the night, with his top-boots sticking plounce into the mud, and, for +the life of him, not daring to extricate them, for fear of his being +heard and taken by the gamekeepers. The water oozed coolly over the +tops, conveying a gentle moisture to his feverish skin, and proving no +small consolation for his exertions. + +There he lay in a dreadful fright, expecting every instant some stout +keeper's hand to seize him by the shoulders, and lug him out of his +hiding-place. Then it was for the first moment that he felt the +awkwardness of his situation. Reflection told him his danger. Though he +durst scarcely breathe, he felt his heart beat tumultuously against his +chest, at the thought of his folly and the possibility of detection. + +"Oh, what a fool I am," thought he, "to run the risk of transportation +for such a freak! My name is on my cart; it is my horse, and the fellows +will swear they were in my employ. On me will be visited the vengeance +of the law. Lord Hertford will never forgive me. I shall have all the +magistrates, squires, noblemen, gentlemen, gamekeepers, and watchers up +in arms against me; and all for what?--for a foolish curiosity, which I +have thus gratified at the expense of my character. Oh! if I get out of +this scrape, never, never will I get into such a one again!" + +In the midst of these painful impressions, the Squire's heart was +gladdened by the cheerful sound of "bright chanticleer." Never did cock +crow with a pleasanter sound than that good imitation, which told that +the coast was clear. + +Some time did the Squire hesitate whether he should join the sport +again, and a still longer time did it take him to extricate his boots +from the mud, for he came out of the ditch minus the right leg covering, +and, after sundry tugs, and, when out, sundry shakings, &c., to turn out +the water, and then, as may be supposed, no small difficulty in getting +it on again, he managed to join his companions, who had almost felt +persuaded that he had totally decamped. The cause of this alarm was a +poor unfortunate jackass, which had strayed from the lane into the +stubble, and which, standing with his head and ears erect, had presented +to the foreman the appearance of a determined gamekeeper. + +A few more acres were dragged, more game secured, and the party once +more safely seated in the cart. Two sacks of game lay in the bottom of +the vehicle, which were both deposited (saving one bagful for the host) +at the Green Cottage at Butley Moor. What a happy man was that host, +when, after all his dangers, he found himself again within his own +doors! happier still, when, after entertaining his free companions, +whose jokes upon his expressions of joy at escape were amusing enough to +them, though painfully interesting to himself; happier still was he, +when, at four o'clock in the morn, he let them out of his house, and +bade poachers and poaching good-bye for ever! + +Nineteen beautiful cock pheasants were hung up in his larder; but so +ashamed was the Squire of their being seen there, that, before he +retired to his own bed, he put them all into a box, with hay, &c., and +directed them to Mr. Thomas Page, his wine-merchant, in London. His +_spolia opima_ were not mentioned till years had in some measure worn +off the rust of danger, and then he gave his friends and neighbours +reason to rejoice in his adventure, and that he had escaped +transportation. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +HARVEST-HOME + + +It was the evening before Harvest-Home, September 29, 1793, that a +sailor called at the back-door of the Priory Farm, Downham Reach, to ask +for a draught of fresh water. It was no uncommon thing for sailors to +call for such a purpose. Downham Reach was the nearest point at which +ships of large tonnage would usually anchor, and shift their cargoes in +lighters for the town of Ipswich, whence it was distant about four +miles. The crews of vessels frequently had to walk up to the town from +this spot; so that it was no uncommon thing for them, upon landing near +the Priory Farm after a voyage, to be glad of a sparkling draught of +clear water. The desired draught was handed to the sailor by the +ever-ready hand of Margaret Catchpole, who always took an interest in +men belonging to the sea. + +"Is dis de Priry Barm?" asked the man, in broken English. + +"This is the Priory Farm," was the quick and eager reply of Margaret. + +"How bar to Gipswitch?" + +"Four miles to Ipswich. What country are you from?" + +"Mynheer be brom Hamsterdam. I lept me bessel in de harber. Mynheer de +Captan did 'mand me up to Gipswitch. 'E 'mand me 'top at Priry Barm to +tale von Margaret Catchpole dad 'e vou'd come up 'ere to-morrow, at nine +o'clock in de eve." + +"What is your captain's name?" + +"Von Villiam Laud." + +The reader need not be told the rest of the conversation, which of +course related to the Captain. How he was? How he got on? Whose service +he was in? How he would come up? And where Margaret was to meet him? It +was all arranged that she should be upon the shore at nine o'clock, and +look out for a small sail-boat, which should come up the river and run +ashore against the creek: that the watchword should be "Margaret," and +that punctuality should be observed. + +Margaret's quick understanding soon construed all the sailor said into +proper English, though she could not perceive that the man only feigned +a foreign accent and manner. He was indeed one of Laud's crew, an +emissary sent on purpose to decoy the poor girl on to the strand, that +he might carry her off to a foreign shore, against her own determined +purpose. + +It is not to be wondered at that she should be a little agitated. Whose +heart would not have been so under similar circumstances? The expected +arrival of some fashionable and insinuating man of fortune into the +saloon of fashion has not agitated the heart of an amiable and +interesting young lady more sensibly than poor Margaret felt herself +fluttering within at this peculiar time. It is a great question, +however, whether any high-spirited damsel could prevent the exposure of +her high feelings with more effect than this poor girl did hers, who not +only had her own interest to induce her so to do, but her lover's also. + +The last day of September came, and with it all the bustle and pleasure +of Harvest-Home. No small share of work fell to Margaret's hands, who +had to prepare the harvest supper for fourteen men, besides women and +children. + +At that time of day, all the single men lodged in the master's house, +and were expected to conform to all the rules, regulations, hours, and +work, of a well-regulated family. + +Once in a year, the good farmer invited the married men, with their +wives and families, to supper; and this supper was always the +Harvest-Home. This was the day on which the last load of corn was +conveyed into the barn or stack-yard, covered with green boughs, with +shouting, and blowing of the merry harvest horn. + +All the labourers upon the Priory Farm were assembled at six o'clock in +the evening: nine married men, and five single ones; the wives, and +those children who were old enough to come to the feast, together with +the boys, four in number, who had to work upon the land. + +A picture fit for the hand of Wilkie was exhibited in that ancient +farm-house. It is surprising that no good artist should have painted The +Harvest Supper. The Rent-day, Blindman's-buff, The Fair, The Blind +Fiddler, or any of his celebrated works, could scarcely afford a more +striking subject for the canvas, or the printseller, than The +Harvest-Home. Such a scene may have been painted, but the writer of +these pages has never seen it described, though he has often witnessed +it in real life, and has shared with innocent pleasure in its rustic +joy. + +Margaret received great assistance from some of the married women. One +pair of hands could not, indeed, have prepared sufficient eatables for +such a party:--smoking puddings, plain and plum; piles of hot potatoes, +cabbages, turnips, carrots, and every species of vegetable which the +farmer's lands could produce--beef, roast and boiled, mutton, veal, and +pork, everything good and substantial; a rich custard, and apple-pies, +to which the children did ample justice, for all were seated round this +well-furnished table in the old kitchen, celebrated for its curious roof +and antique chimney-piece. + +The lord of the feast, or head man in the harvest-field, took his +station at the head of the table, whilst the master of the house, and +his wife, his sister, and even his daughter, were the servants of the +feast, and took every pains to gratify and satisfy the party. + +Poor labourers are not the only class in England fond of a good dinner. +There are hundreds and thousands, with half the appetites of these +joyful sons and daughters of the sickle, who glory in a feast. How often +is the rich table spread with every delicacy, and at an enormous cost +the greatest rarities provided, and a group of lords and ladies seated +thereat! Things just tasted and dismissed, and all due ceremonies +performed, the company rise without any satisfaction, and return to +their homes grateful to nobody; sometimes hungry and dissatisfied, moody +and contentious; disappointed, disaffected, tired, and palled by the +very fashion of the thing, in which there has been no enjoyment and no +thankfulness. + +It was not so at this rustic feast. Simplicity and pleasure sat upon +each face. Fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, felt thankful to God +for their master's prosperity, and received his attentions with +unaffected gratitude. + +After the feast, and a flowing jug or two of brown ale had been emptied, +the wives and children were invited into the best parlour to tea and +cakes, whilst the merry reapers were left to themselves, to enjoy in +their own way the stronger harvest ale, which was just broached by the +hand of their master. + +Margaret had done her duty well, and was busily engaged washing up the +dishes as fast as she could, that she might, in the midst of this +bustling evening get her work sufficiently forward not to be missed, +should she run down to the shore. + +"Boy, take the can to the girl and have it filled"; for the master had +deputed Margaret to draw whatever ale was called for. + +This was soon done, and the boy returned just as the old clock struck +eight. + +Margaret heard with a fluttering heart the songs, according to custom, +commencing; and getting her work well forward, she resolved, after the +next can of ale was replenished, to be off. + +Accordingly, she ran up the back stairs, and brought down her bonnet and +shawl, which she left behind the staircase-door, and anxiously awaited +the moment to be off duty. She had put every plate in the rack, laid all +the iron spoons in the drawer, cleaned the spit, and placed it, bright +and shining, over the chimney-piece. All the skewers had been strung, +all the knives and forks washed and wiped, boilers, saucepans, +gridirons, and the rest of the culinary utensils cleaned, and placed in +their proper places; in short, scarcely any one would have believed that +they had that day been used. Clean they were, and cleaner the +well-washed face and hands of the active girl, who had finished her +work, and prepared herself for an interview with one whose image had +been graven on her mind through every period of her short service. + +At last she heard that welcome sound, more enchanting to her ear than +any song which the young men had sung: "Boy, take the can to Margaret!" + +It was soon replenished; and scarcely was the kitchen-door closed, ere +the bonnet and shawl were put on, the latch of the door lifted up, and +the bright rising moon shining gloriously in at the door. Happy moment! +what pencil could portray the features of that face upon which the moon +so clearly shone on that September night? + +Poor girl! 'twas a breathless moment of long anticipated pleasure to thy +good and honest heart, such as many a one, like thee, may have +experienced; but such as none, be she who she may, could have more +anxiously endured. + +At last, Margaret is off. + +The pleasure of the feast continued; and, as the foaming ale went round, +the spirits of the youths arose, and each bachelor who could not sing +had to toast his favourite lass. + +There were singular disclosures made at this season, which generally +indicated the future destiny of the bachelor. It was amusing enough to +hear those who did not choose to tell their lover's name attempt to +sing, as "the lord" called upon him for a toast or song. + +"We haven't had Jack Barry's song," said a sly fellow of the name of +Riches, who himself was one of the best singers in the party. "Please, +sir" (for such the lord of the feast was styled that night), "call upon +Jack for his song." + +Now, the labourer at the head of the table knew that Jack could not +sing. He did not suppose, either, that he had any favourite lass; for no +one had seen Jack flirting, or directing his attentions towards any +favoured individual. The lord, however, was bound to do his duty, when +so urged; he therefore said, "John Barry, we call upon you for a song." + +"I cannot sing, master: I wish I could," was the reply. + +"Then you must give us a toast; and you know what it must be--'Your +favourite lass.'" + +Jack hung down his head in solemn silence, for he felt extremely +awkward. He _had_ a favourite lass; he felt he had; and no one knew it +but himself; and if he should toast her, he felt that he should be +laughed at. He remained in a state of painful suspense, between doubt +and fear. A thousand thoughts revolved in his mind, whether he should +not give a fictitious name, or some one whom he had heard of, or only +knew by sight; but then appeared the certainty of some of them +congratulating the person he might happen to mention, and so bringing +him into a scrape. He thought also of dissimulation, and a lie, at which +Jack's honest nature revolted. But if he should really tell his +sweetheart's name! He felt for her, he felt for himself, and he remained +a long time without uttering a word. + +"Come, Jack, my boy, what's the matter? Give us your favourite lass! +What makes you flinch, my lad?" + +Jack remained silent, until some began to think he meant to shirk the +subject. The fact is, that Jack had really some notion of bolting, and +once or twice he cast a sidelong glance at the door, with the full +intention of an escape; but Will Riches, perceiving this, most +unceremoniously bolted the door; and, as the jug stood close by him, he +declared he would know Jack's sweetheart before another drop should be +drunk. + +"Come, Jack," says he, "why not give us at once the girl you love +best?" + +"Because she does not love me," was Jack's quick reply. + +Here was a most significant glance from one to another round about the +room; and more than one whispered to his neighbour, "Who is it?" Not a +soul could tell, for no one had the slightest idea who the girl could be +who would refuse so honest a fellow as Jack Barry. Some began to think +that Jack had stepped out of his latitude, that he had dared to aspire +to the master's daughter; some, that it was Matilda Baker, the grocer's +girl; others set it down as Lucy Harper, of Stratton. But, be the damsel +whom she might, Jack's speech had set such a spirit of curiosity +a-working, that the married men hoped to know for their wives' sake, and +the single ones for their mistresses' amusement. Jack had got further +into the mire by his floundering, and every one saw that he was +struggling all he could to escape. + +"Well, Jack, who is she? Who is she? Do we any of us know her?" + +"Yes, all of you." + +Here they were all out at sea again. + +"It must be the master's fair daughter," said Ned Palmer to his +neighbour. + +"I don't think it," was the reply; "but he is not willing to tell us, +and it's hardly fair to press him." + +"It's a law, a positive law--I've told mine," says John Ruddock, "and I +don't see why he should flinch from the name. I must have it." + +"The name! the name!" exclaimed one or two resolute fellows. + +A tear stood in Jack's eye. This might be a good joke to some; but the +elders of the party, who saw it, especially honest Tom Keeble, the lord +of the evening, felt for the young man that respect which induced him to +make a sortie or parley, in the hope of giving him relief. + +"Riches," said he, "as the jug stands by you, I shall call upon you for +a song. Our young friend may, by the time you have entertained us, have +recovered himself; and, after your song, I shall order the jug round to +drink your health, if we do not get the lass." + +Now, Will prided himself upon his vocal powers, and was a bold, forward +fellow. He had no objection to sing, nor had any of the company any +objection to his song; and, truth to tell, all hoped the jug of brown +ale would not be stopped long, either for the song or for "the favourite +lass." So Will sang his song. + +"I'll sing you a new song," says he. "I'll sing you one in which you can +all join in chorus in the house, as you have often done in the field. +I'll sing you-- + + 'HALLO LARGESS.'" + +Accordingly, he lifted up his voice, and sang this truly happy and +appropriate harvest song:-- + + Now the ripened corn + In sheaves is borne, + And the loaded wain + Brings home the grain, + The merry, merry reapers sing a bind, + And jocund shouts the happy harvest hind, + Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess! + + Now the harvest's o'er, + And the grain we store, + And the stacks we pull, + And the barn is full, + The merry, merry reapers sing again, + And jocund shouts the happy harvest swain, + Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess! + + Now our toil is done, + And the feast is won, + And we meet once more + As we did of yore, + The merry, merry reapers sing with glee, + And jocund shout their happy harvest spree, + Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess! + + Now the feast we share-- + 'Tis our master's fare, + May he long, long live + Such a treat to give, + And merry, merry reapers sing with joy, + And jocund shouts the happy harvest boy, + Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess! + + Now we join in song + With our voices strong, + And our hearts are high + With our good supply, + We merry, merry reapers joyful come + To shout and sing our happy Harvest-Home, + Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess! + +The spirit of this song is in the chorus, which is peculiar to the +eastern counties of this kingdom. So "Hallo Largess!" may be well +understood here, but in many parts of the country is quite unknown. At +the time of harvest, when the men are reaping down the fields, should +their master have any friends visiting his fields, the head man among +the labourers usually asks a largess, which is generally a shilling. +This is asked not only of friends and visitors, but of strangers +likewise, should they pause to look at the reapers as they bind up the +sheaves. + +At evening, when the work of the day is over, all the men collect in a +circle, and Hallo, that is, cry, Largess. Three times they say, in a low +tone, "Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Large!" and all, hand in hand, +bow their heads almost to the ground; but, after the third monotonous +yet sonorous junction, they lift up their heads, and, with one burst of +their voices, cry out, "Gess!" + +Varieties of this peculiar custom may exist in some districts. Sometimes +the man with the most stentorian lungs will mount an eminence and lead +the rest, who join in chorus. They generally conclude the ceremony with +three shouts, and then "Thank Mr., Mrs., Miss, or Master" (as the case +of the donor may be) "for his largess." Whence the origin of this +practice, is not now easily to be ascertained. It was much more common +than it is. The habit of dividing the gains, too, at the harvest frolic, +is going fast out of fashion; nor is its substitute an amendment. + +At the period here mentioned, and in the Priory Farm, it was customary +for the lord to divide the largess among the men, women, and children; +which formed a species of family nest-egg, to provide against some +urgent necessity. The custom has now degenerated into an ale-house +revel, and the money is all drunk out for the benefit of no one but the +publican. + +"Will Riches, your health!" said the lord, as, at the same moment, he +turned the contents of a canvas-bag upon the table, which exhibited a +very good aspect of liberal contributions. The reader may suppose that +every master-tradesman who visited the farm had to give his share, and +that the lord had not been unmindful of his solicitations, when, upon +counting the contents of the bag, there were found one hundred shillings +and sixpence. This exactly gave five shillings a-piece to the fourteen +men, half-a-crown ditto to the nine women, and two shillings each to the +four boys. + +The division of this sum gave great satisfaction; and our persecuted +friend, Jack Barry, had almost unperceived accomplished a successful +retreat in the interesting moment of pocketing the cash. But the +watchful songster had him in his eye; and, as he rose to thank the +company for the honour done him in drinking his health, he intercepted +Jack in the act of drawing back the bolt of the door. + +"I think this is the best place I can speak from; and, as Jack is so +anxious to be off, perhaps to see his sweetheart, I hope he'll give me +the opportunity of proposing her health in his absence, for not until he +has given us her name shall the bolt be drawn." + +The poor fellow had counted on his escape, but little thought of the +extremity of ridicule he was thus bringing upon himself. At length, +urged on all sides, he could resist no longer, but, in a kind of +ludicrous despair, he exclaimed-- + +"Well, then, I'll toast the health of Margaret Catchpole!" + +The pencil of Wilkie could alone describe the wild burst of unrestrained +glee at this declaration. + +"Margaret Catchpole!" was as suddenly responded in surprise by men, +women, and children; and such grinning countenances, and coarse +laughter, and joking congratulations, were beginning to show themselves, +that Jack, no longer able to endure their gibes, bolted to the door, +and, finding no resistance to his will, made his exit, amidst the roars +of his companions, who vociferated, with a cheer, "The health of +Margaret Catchpole!" + +Jack fled precipitately from this scene of tumult and confusion, and, as +he passed the little foot-bridge over the stream from the moat, he still +heard the rude merriment he had excited. The moon rose brilliantly over +the little chapel in the dark background, and was reflected upon the +water in a line with the bridge, and showed Jack's figure in darkness +crossing the light plank; but he was soon in the shadow of those lofty +trees, which darkened the footpath towards the gamekeeper's cottage. He +had instinctively taken this path because it led to Levington, his +father's house; and he then remembered that parent's parting words--"If +ever you feel yourself unhappy, my boy, remember you have a home here, +in which, as long as your mother and I live, we shall be happy to give +you a welcome." + +Jack was really unhappy, and he had some cause for feeling so, though he +felt that it lay not with himself. He knew that he had spoken the truth, +though it had cost him a severe pang; and whilst he felt much grief at +the thought of the jeers and quizzings he should meet with, and the +annoyances he might occasion the poor girl whom he really loved, he had +still spoken the truth, which he was not ashamed to confess. He was +arrested in his progress by the voice of John Gooding, the old +gamekeeper of the great Squire of Nacton--Philip Broke. + +"Who goes there?" was his question. + +"John Barry," was the reply. + +"Where now, Jack--where now?" + +"What, Mr. Gooding, is it you? Has the tide turned? Can I walk along the +shore to Levington?" + +"The tide has only just turned; but, if you take the wood-path for a +while to Nacton, you may then, if you like it, keep the shore along +Orwell Park, and pass the old Hall to Levington. But what makes you +leave good company at this time o' night?" + +"I have left them all very merry at the harvest supper, but I had a mind +to see my friends." + +"Well, Jack, had it been any other man upon the farm, I should have been +suspicious of you as a poacher; but I know you well, and can believe +you. I should not trust some that you have left behind. I was just going +down to the Priory, to see how you lads fared to-night." + +"Well, Mr. Gooding, you will find them all very glad to see you, and no +doubt they will make you welcome; but will you trouble yourself to let +master know where I am gone to-night, that he may close his doors +without expecting to see me?" + +"That I will; and, when I get there, I will propose your health, Jack, +during your absence." + +"Do so, Mr. Gooding; and tell them all, they have my hearty good wishes +for their health and happiness." + +"Good-night." + +"Good-night." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE CONFLICT + + +But where is Margaret all this time? She is on the shore, casting an +anxious eye upon the waters. The moon is shining with such perfect +brightness, that she can see across the river, though it be nearly two +miles from the strand at Downham Reach to Freston Tower. She looks +towards the dark shades of Woolverstone, and with a lover's anxious eye, +fancies she can descry a sail. A sail there was; but it came very slowly +on, though a breeze reached the spot where poor Margaret was standing. + +In that old vessel, seated at the helm, was as extraordinary a character +as ever sailed upon the waves of the Orwell; and as he will be no +insignificant actor in some succeeding scenes of this work, he shall be +here introduced to the notice of the reader. He is thus described in the +_Suffolk Garland_. + +"The ancient fisherman whose character is here portrayed is not a mere +creature of the imagination, but an eccentric being, once resident in +the parish of St. Clement, Ipswich, by name Thomas Colson, but better +known by the appellation of Robinson Crusoe. He was originally a +wool-comber, and afterwards a weaver; but a want of constant employment +in either of these occupations induced him to enter into the East +Suffolk Militia. Whilst quartered at Leicester, he learned, with his +usual ingenuity, the art of stocking-weaving, which trade he afterwards +followed in this county. But this employment, in its turn, he soon +relinquished, and became a fisherman on the river Orwell. His little +vessel (if vessel it might be called, for every part of it was his own +handiwork) presented a curious specimen of naval patchwork, for his +extreme poverty did not afford him the means of procuring proper +materials. In this leaky and crazy vessel, it was his constant custom, +by day and by night, in calms and in storms, to toil on the river for +fish. His figure was tall and thin; his countenance meagre, yet +striking; and his eye sharp and piercing. Subject to violent chronic +complaints, with a mind somewhat distempered, and faculties impaired, he +was a firm believer in the evil agency of wizards and witchcraft.... His +mind was so haunted with the dreams of charms and enchantments, as to +fancy that he was continually under the influence of these mischievous +tormentors. His arms and legs, nay, almost his whole body, was encircled +with bones of horses, rings, amulets, and characts, verses, words, &c., +&c., as spells and charms to protect him against their evil +machinations. On different parts of his boat was to be seen 'the +horseshoe nailed,' that most effective antidote against the power of +witches. When conversing with him, he would describe to you that he saw +them hovering about his person, and endeavouring by all their arts to +punish and torment him. Though a wretched martyr to the fancies of a +disordered imagination, his manners were mild and harmless, and his +character honest and irreproachable. But, however powerful and effective +his charms might be to protect him from the agency of evil spirits, they +did not prove sufficiently operative against the dangers of storm and +tempest. For, being unfortunately driven on the ooze by a violent storm +on the 3rd of October, 1811, he was seen, and earnestly importuned to +quit his crazy vessel; but relying on the efficacy of his charms, he +obstinately refused; and the ebb of the tide drawing his bark off into +deep water, his charms and his spells failed him, and poor Robinson sank +to rise no more." + +The writer of these pages knew Colson well. He has often, when a boy, +been in his boat with him; and always found him kind and gentle. + +The old man who sat at the helm of his crazy vessel, now toiling up the +Orwell, was a perfect fisherman, patient, quiet, steady, active, and +thoughtful. He had enough to employ his mind as well as his body, and +too deeply was that mind engaged. The whole legion of evil spirits +seemed to be his familiar companions, or rather his incessant enemies. +He knew all their names, and their propensities; how they visited and +afflicted men; and his great study was, how to prevent their malice +taking effect upon himself or any one else. He would converse with them, +and parley with them; he would seem to suffer when any of them took him +by surprise and found him off his guard. The loss of any one of his +numerous charms was sure to occasion the visit of that very demon from +whose attacks it was supposed to defend him. He has often been tried by +intelligent persons, anxious to discover if he really invented a new +tale for each spirit; notes were kept of the name and the peculiar +temper he attributed to each; and, months afterwards, he was questioned +again and again upon the same points, but he never faltered--never +attributed a wrong direction to any one--but was as accurate and certain +as on the first day he spoke of them. + +The whole purport of these attacks was to persuade Robin to do some +wicked deed, at which his mind revolted; and when they could not prevail +against him, they used to seem, to his suffering mind, to torment him, +sometimes to pinch him, sometimes to pelt him, at others, to burn or +scald him, pull his hair off his head, to pull his ears, his nose, or +his arms; and, under all these seeming attacks, the old man's +countenance would exhibit the species of suffering resembling the +agonies of one really under such torture. No one could persuade him that +it was imaginative; he would shake his head and say, "I see them +plainly--take care they do not visit you!" + +He was a very kind friend to many who were afflicted; and never saw a +person in distress whilst he had a fish in his boat, or a penny in his +pocket, and refused to help him. + +From the great encouragement he met with, and the friends who were +always kind to him, it is supposed that he might have laid by a +sufficiency for his latter days, for at one time he had amassed enough +to have purchased a new vessel, but in an evil hour he was induced to +lend it to an artful villain, who represented himself in great distress, +but who ran off with the whole. + +It was curious to see the old man whilst repairing his boat, which was, +when given to him by Mr. Seekamp, but a wreck, as it lay upon the mud +near Hog Island. It was curious to see him, whilst plying his hatchet, +suddenly stop, seat himself on a piece of timber, and hold parley with +one of the demons, who, in his frenzy, he fancied attacked him. After +searching about his person, he would suddenly catch up a talisman, which +shown to the enraged spirit would send him off, and leave the tormented +in peace. His delight was visible in the chuckling joy of his speech, as +he returned triumphantly and speedily to his accustomed work. + +Colson, who sat at the helm of his vessel, which creaked heavily under +the breeze as it sprang up, was in one of his moods of reverie, when, +stooping down and straining his eyes to windward, he saw a sail. It was +a small boat, which seemed to have got more wind in her canvas than +Robin could obtain. + +On came the boat; and the breeze began to swell the many-coloured sail +of the bewitched barque; but Robin's canvas was heavy compared with the +airy trimming of the feathers of the little duck that followed him. Like +a creature of life, she skipped along, and soon overtook the old +fisherman of the Orwell. + +"What ship ahoy! What ship ahoy!" exclaimed a gruff voice from the boat +below, as Robin, leaning over the stern of his clumsy craft, looked +closely into her with an eager eye. + +"It's only old Robinson Crusoe," replied the other. "You may speak long +to him before you know what he means, even if you get any answer at +all." + +"Ahoy! ahoy!" was, however, the old man's reply. "You've got the foul +fiend aboard. What are you up to, Will? I know that's Will Laud's voice, +though I haven't heard it lately. Whither bound, Will? whither bound?" + +"Confound the fellow!" muttered Will. "I never heard him say so much +before. The foul fiend always sails with him. But give him a good word, +John, and a wide berth." + +"Heavy laden, Robin? heavy laden? You've a good haul aboard. Crabs, or +lobsters, or crayfish--eh, Robin? turbot, plaice, or flounders? soles, +brill, or whiting? sanddabs, or eels? But you've got plenty, Bob, or I +mistake, if not a choice. The tide is falling: you'll never reach the +Grove to-night." + +"I shall get up in time, Will. You've lightened my cargo. You've got a +pleasant companion aboard. You've got my black fiend on your mainsail. +There he sits, pointing at you both, as if he had you in his own +clutches. Take care he don't drive you aground. He sticks close to the +sail, Will." + +"Heave ahoy! heave ahoy! Good-night!" and away bounded the boat, which +was then passing Pin Mill, in the widest part of the river, and steering +towards the shades of Woolverstone. The obelisk rose high over the dark +trees, pointing to the clear, moonlit sky, its pinnacle still tinged +with the last red light of that autumnal evening. + +But the breeze freshening, the little skiff darted along the side of the +greensward, which sloped to the water's edge; and, as she passed, the +startled doe leaped up from her repose, and stamped her foot, and +snorted to the herd reposing or browsing on the side of the hill. + +Woolverstone Park, with its thick copses and stately trees, whose roots +reached, in snaky windings, to the very shore, was now the range along +which the barque skirted till it came opposite the white cottage, which +stands on a small green opening, or lawn, slanting down to the river. + +The park boat was moored against the stairs, and a single light burned +against the window, at which a white cat might be seen to be sitting. It +was a favourite cat of the gamekeeper's, which had accidentally been +killed in a rabbit-trap, and, being stuffed, was placed in the window of +the cottage. Visible as it always was in the same place, in the broad +day and in the clear moonlight, the sailors on the river always called +that dwelling by the name of the Cat House; by which it is known at the +present day. High above it might be seen the mansion, shining in the +moonbeam, and many lights burning in its various apartments--a sign of +the hospitality of W. Berners, Esquire, the lord of that beautiful +domain. + +But the two sailors in the boat were little occupied with thoughts about +the beauty of this scene, or the interest that might attach to that side +of the water. Their eyes were bent upon the opposite shore; and, as they +sailed along, with a favourable wind, they soon passed the boathouse and +the mansion of Woolverstone. + +"Luff, do you think we shall be lucky? I'd venture my share of the next +run, if I could once safely harbour the prize from yonder shore." + +"Why, Will, you speak as if the Philistines were to meet you. Who can +prevent your cutting out such a prize?" + +"I know not; except that she is too difficult a craft to manage." + +"Pshaw, Will! her cable may be easily cut; and once we have her in tow, +with this side-wind upon our sail, we shall be back again as quickly as +we came." + +"Maybe, maybe, John; but I do not like being too desperate. I'll fulfil +my word, and give you more than half my share, which you know is a +pretty good one, if you will lend me an honest and fair play." + +"I'll do nothing, Bill, but what you tell me. I'll lay like a log in the +boat, and stir not without the boatswain's whistle; and as to an honest +hand, I'll tell you what, Will, 'tis something as good as your own--it +will do by you as well as your own would do by me." + +"Say no more, say no more! But look, John--I do believe I see her by the +shore." + +"I see something white, but that's the cottage in the Reach." + +"No, no, John; keep her head well up; my eyes are clearer than yours--I +see her flag waving in the wind. You may take your tack now, John--we +shall run directly across. Ease out the mainsail a bit, and I'll mind +the foresail. Bear up, my hearty! bear up, my hearty!" + +With such words of mutual encouragement did these men of the sea, the +river, and the land, after passing Woolverstone Park, steer directly +across, towards Nacton Creek, that they might hug the wind under Downham +Reach, and move more rapidly, in shallow water, against the tide. + +Any one would imagine, from their conversation, that they were intent +upon cutting out some vessel from her moorings, instead of a poor, +defenceless girl, who, trusting to nothing but the strength of true +love, stood waiting for them on the shore. + +There stood the ever faithful Margaret, with palpitating heart, watching +the light barque, as it came bounding over the small curling waves of +the Orwell. In her breast beat feelings such as some may have +experienced; but, whoever they may be, they must have been most +desperately in love. Hope, fear, joy, and terror, anxiety, and +affection--each, in turn, sent their separate sensations, in quick +succession, into her soul. Hope predominated over the rest, and +suggested these bright thoughts-- + +"He is coming to me, no more to be tried, no more to be disapproved, but +to tell me he is an honest man, and engaged in honest service." + +What a picture would she have presented at that moment to any genuine +lover of nature! Who could describe that eye of expectation, swelled as +it was with the animating hope of happiness to come! Who could describe +that heaving heart, answering as it did to every heave of the little +boat which came bounding to the shore! And what words shall speak that +sudden emotion, as the welcome sound of the grounding keel, and the rush +of waters following it, told that the boat was ashore, which conveyed to +a woman's heart all that she had so long looked for, hoped, and +feared--her lover's return! + +The watchword, "_Margaret_," was spoken, and in another moment her joy +and grief, and love and hope, were, as it were, embodied in the embrace +of him she loved. Moments at such time fly too rapidly--an hour seems +but an instant. There is so much to say, to express, to ponder upon, +that the time is always too short. In honest love there seems to be no +fear, no death, no time, no change--a sort of existence indescribably +happy, indefinitely blissful, hopeful, and enduring. + +In the heart of Margaret, the poor Margaret Catchpole, love was her +life; and as she stood upon that strand, and first welcomed her William, +she felt the purest, happiest, and holiest feelings of joy, rectitude, +and honesty--such as she never before had felt to such extent, and such +as she knew but for a few short moments, and often wished for again, but +never, never afterwards experienced. + +Since his absence from Margaret, the character of Laud had become more +and more desperate, and to say that the same pure feeling burned in his +breast as did in Margaret's would not be true. No man who leads a guilty +life can entertain that purity of love in his heart which shall stand +the test of every earthly trial; but Margaret, like many real lovers, +attributed to him she loved the same perfection and singleness of +attachment which she felt towards him. Had she known that this pure +flame was only burning as pure and bright in the honest soul of Jack +Barry, she would, it may be, have rejected Laud, and have accepted him; +but she knew not this. She was not blind to the faults of the sailor, +though she was blinded to his real character. She expected to find a +love like her own, and really believed his affection to be the same to +the last. + +"Now, Margaret," he at length exclaimed, "now's the time: my boat is +ready, my ship is at the mouth of the river. A snug little cabin is at +your service; and you will find more hearts and hands to serve you than +you ever had in your life." + +"But where am I to go, William? What business have I on board your +master's vessel? He would not approve of your sailing with your young +wife. I thought you came to tell me you were prepared to marry me from +my own dear father's house, and to be a comfort and a blessing to my +aged mother." + +"Margaret, you say you love me. My time is short. I am come here to +prove the sincerity of my love, and to take you, in an honest way, to a +country where we may be married; but if you send me away now, we may +never meet again." + +"If you are true, William--if, as you say, your prospects are good, and +you have spared sufficient from your lawful gains to hire a cottage and +to make me happy, why not get leave of absence, and come and marry me in +dear old England?" + +"I may not be able to get leave for a long time; and what difference +does it make whether we are married here, or in my employer's country? +Marriage is marriage, Margaret, in every place, all the world over." + +"Yes, Will; but I have heard that marriages solemnized in some countries +do not hold good in others; and whether they did or not, I should like +those who first gave me birth to give me to you, William. My consent, +they know, is a willing one; but I should not be happy in mind, if I +were to leave my parents without their knowing where I was gone." + +"What will it matter if they do not know it till we return? I almost +think you would like another better than me, Margaret." + +"If you, William, were, in some respects, other than you are, I should +like you full as well; but, as you are, I love you, and you know it. Why +not come ashore, and marry me at our own church, and in the presence of +my own parents? As to any other, William, though another may like me, I +cannot help it, but I can help his having me." + +"Then there is another that does love you!--is there, Margaret?" + +A blush passed over Margaret's face as she replied, "Another has told me +so, and I did not deceive him. He thought you dead, or he would never +have ventured upon the subject. I told him he was mistaken, that you +were not dead, and that I still loved you, William." + +"Then he knows I live, does he?" + +"Yes." + +"And you have betrayed me?" + +"No: I have not told any one but him; and as he pressed his suit, +thinking that you were no more, I felt it to be only due to him to tell +him you were alive." + +"And who is he, Margaret? You would not have been so plain with him if +he had not had somewhat of your confidence." + +"He is an honest young man, and of very good and respectable parents--he +works at the Priory Farm; and seeing him, as I do, daily, I can form +sufficient judgement of his character to believe he would never betray +any one." + +"Upon my word, Margaret, he must be a prodigy of perfection! Perhaps you +would like him to be bridesman upon our wedding-day?" + +"I would, indeed, if he would like it, and you had no objection." + +"What is his name?" + +"John Barry." + +"What! of Levington?" + +"Yes." + +"His brother is in the coastguard. It was he who gave me this, Margaret, +this cut upon my forehead--this, that you took such pains to heal." + +"And it is healed, William; and your heart, too, I hope." + +"No, no, no!--I owe him one!" + +"Consider me his creditor, and pay it me; for I healed that wound, and +it brought with it reformation." + +"I would not give you what I would give him." + +"No, William; but you ought not to bear malice. His brother has been +very kind to me. I may say, he is the only one who never reproached me +with having been the mistress of a smuggler." (There was a fearful frown +upon the smuggler's brow at this moment, and a convulsive grasp of the +poor girl's hand, that told there was agony and anger stirring in his +soul.) "But you are not a smuggler now, William. I did not mean to hurt +your feelings. All reproach of that name has long passed away from my +mind." + +William was silent, and gazed wildly upon the waters. One hand was in +his bosom, the other was in Margaret's hand, as she leaned upon his +shoulder. There might be seen a strange paleness passing over his face, +and a painful compression of his lips. A sudden start, as if +involuntary, and it was most truly so. It told of a chilliness on the +heart, that seemed to freeze the blood in his veins. He actually +trembled. + +"William, you are not well." + +"No, I am not; but a little grog, which is in the boat, will soon set me +right again." + +"Shall I run and fetch it?" + +"No, no,--wait a bit, wait a bit. Hold--I was a smuggler! Yes, you said +I was a smuggler! The world despised me! You bore the reproach of my +name! Well, Margaret, the smuggler comes home--he comes to marry you. +Will the world believe him to be altered? Will they not call you, then, +the smuggler's bride?" + +"No, William, not if you are really altered, as you say you are. I wish +you were in the British service; seamen are wanted now, and the smuggler +would soon be forgiven, when he once sailed under the flag of Old +England." + +"'Tis too late, 'tis too late, now, Margaret! I will not say I may not +ever sail under our gallant Nelson. You might persuade me to it, if you +would only sail with me to Holland, and there be married to me, +Margaret." + +"You have heard me upon this point: do not urge it any more. I have now +stolen away from duty, William, to meet you here, and I hope I shall +not be missed. Let me only hear you say you will come again soon, to +marry me at home, and I shall return to my service happy." + +"I would if I could, but I cannot." + +"Why not, William? why not?" + +"Do not ask me why. Come, Margaret, come to the boat, and share my fate. +I will be constant to you, and you shall be my counsellor." + +"Nay, William, do not urge me to forsake all my friends, and put all +this country in terror as to what has become of me. I cannot go on board +your boat. I cannot give you myself until God and my parents have given +me to you. So do not think of it; but, come again, come again!--yes, +again and again!--but come openly, in the sight of all men, and I will +be yours. I live for you only, William, and will never be another's +whilst you live." + +"But how can I live without you, Margaret? I cannot come in the way you +talk of; I tell you I cannot. Do, then, do be mine." + +"I am yours, William, and will ever be so; but it must be openly, before +all men, and upon no other terms." + +"Then it will never be!" + +"Why so?" + +"Because I am a smuggler!" + +"You have been such, but you are not so now. You have long forsaken the +gang; you are forgotten, and supposed to be dead. You may change your +name; but being changed in your life, it will only be known to me." + +"And to Barry, too, Margaret; and then to his brother, and to numbers of +others, who will know me. I was recognized this very night." + +"What, if you change your name?" + +"My name is changed, but not my nature. I am a smuggler still!" + +"No, William, no--you cannot be! You are in the service of an honest +man, though a foreigner." + +"No, Margaret, I am not. You see before you the notorious Hudson. I am a +smuggler still!" + +It was now poor Margaret's turn to tremble, and she felt more than +language can speak. She had heard of Hudson--Captain Hudson, as he was +called--but had no idea that her lover was that, or such a man. She felt +a revulsion amounting to sickness, a giddiness overcame her, and she +felt as if she must fall to the earth. Half carried, half urged, half +pulled along, she was unconsciously moving, with her eyes fixed fully +upon the boat, and approaching it, and she had no power to resist--a +sort of trance-like senselessness seemed to overpower her; and yet she +felt that hand, knew that form, and saw the waters and the boat, and had +no energy or impulse to resist. Her heart was so struck with the +deadliness of grief and despair, that the nerves had no power to obey +the will, and the will seemed but a wish to die. We cannot die when we +wish it, and it is well for us we cannot. Happy they who do not shrink +when the time comes appointedly; thrice happy they who welcome it with +joy, and hope, and love! + +Margaret revived a little before she reached the boat, and resisted. The +firm grasp of the smuggler was not, however, to be loosed. + +"You do not mean to force me away, William?" + +"I must, if you will not go." + +"I will not go." + +"You shall--you must--you cannot help it! Do not resist." + +"Shame, William, shame! Is this your love?" + +"It is, Margaret, it is. I mean you fair." + +"Your means are foul. Let me go, William! let me go!" + +"Yes: you shall go on board my boat." + +"Not with my life, William. I will go overboard!" + +"Then will I follow you; but I cannot parley longer. Come on!" + +The poor girl's struggles now became so violent, and her efforts to +escape so powerful, that Will Laud's utmost strength could not drag her +along the sand. Her fears, too, were increasing with his cruel violence; +and these fears were greatly increased by Laud giving a loud, shrill +boatswain's whistle. This awakened her to the sight of the trap into +which she had been beguiled, for, in another moment, she saw a man +spring from the boat, and hasten towards her. He came along with rapid +strides to join them, and soon, with horrid voice, exclaimed,-- + +"Your signal, Laud, is late indeed, but better late than never." + +That voice was too well known by Margaret: 'twas the hated +countryman's--'twas John Luff's. + +This fellow seized her in his arms, and, as a tiger would swing a fawn +over his back, so poor Margaret was swung over his shoulders in an +instant. The last effort a defenceless female can make is the shriek of +despair; and such a one was heard, as not only sounded through the woods +of Downham Reach, but reached the opposite shores of Woolverstone Park. + +That shriek was heard by one whose heart was too true to nature to +resist the good motives which it awakened. Young Barry, as the reader +knows, was journeying toward the gamekeeper's cottage on the cliff, and +had just entered the wood in front of that dwelling, as the piercing +shriek struck upon his ear. He sprang over the paling in an instant, and +by the broad moonlight beheld a man carrying a female towards a boat, +and the other assisting to stop her cries. He leaped down the cliff, and +seizing a strong break-water stake, which he tore up from the sand, +rushed forward to the man who carried the female. It was a good, trusty, +heart-of-oak stake which he held, and which in one moment he swung round +his head, and sent its full weight upon the hamstrings of Luff. The +fellow rolled upon the sand, and over and over rolled the poor girl into +the very waves of the Orwell. + +It was no slight work which Barry had now in hand. It was a bold deed to +attack two such daring villains, both well armed, and he with nothing +but a stake. But the consequences he neither foresaw nor dreaded; the +cause was a good one, and he left the issue to God. As quick as thought +he had already dashed one foeman to the earth; the other stood aghast, +beholding Margaret fallen into the water, and his comrade rolling on the +shore. He flew to help Margaret, and raising her up, determined not to +relinquish her, but stood opposed to the dauntless Barry. + +"Villains, release the girl!" was his exclamation. + +"It is Barry's voice!" shrieked Margaret. "Help, John, help!" + +There was a strange opposition of feeling in all the parties at these +words. The blood curdled in the veins of the smugglers, whilst it seemed +to burst with overpowering fullness upon the forehead of the young man +who now attacked them. He fought for the prize of true love--they for +revenge. The moment they heard the name uttered by the girl they seemed +to think no more about her; but the fallen man sprang up, and Laud let +Margaret go, and both rushed, like enraged wild beasts, with full force +against young Barry. He, with true heroic daring, committed himself at +once to the encounter. He was a fine athletic young man, a head taller +than either of the sailors, but odds were fearfully against him. Luff +was a stout, stiff, sturdy seaman; and Laud young, active, cool, and +desperate. + +A smuggler is seldom without a weapon of offence and defence. Luff +seized his pistol from his girdle, and fired at his brave antagonist; it +missed its mark, and the stout oak arm was not long in thundering a blow +upon his head, which again sent him sprawling upon the ground. It was +Laud's turn now to take his aim, which he did in the most cool, +determined manner, with as much ease, and as steady a hand, as if he +were firing at a holiday mark. It was a cruel aim, and rendered the +contest still more unequal. It took effect in the young man's left +shoulder, and rendered that arm useless. + +None but such a frame and such a spirit could have stood against that +pistol-shot. It made him stagger for the moment; but he had presence of +mind to ward off the next blow of a cutlass with his good oaken staff. +And now might be seen the most desperate conflict for life or death +between the rivals. Barry and Laud closed and parted, and struggled +fiercely with each other, though the former had but one arm to act upon +the defensive with. His right hand, however, was powerful enough to dash +the sword of Laud at least ten yards into the wave; and with such +dexterity did he handle his weapon, that had not Luff come again +unexpectedly to the encounter, the contest must have been speedily +terminated in favour of Barry: Luff recovered his feet again, and rushed +at Barry with such rage, that again his other pistol missed its aim. + +Barry had now to act entirely upon his own defence, with only one arm +against four. He had this advantage, however, that they had no time to +load their pistols, and had only their short butt-ends to fight with, +whilst he had a good long arm. + +But assistance--unexpected assistance--was at hand. A tall, gaunt figure +strode along the strand, armed with a long fisherman's pike, or hook, a +weapon commonly used to take codfish off the fishing-lines. His was a +sinewy arm, which few could resist or disable. + +When such a man was aroused, harmless and peaceable as was his general +character, his appearance became truly terrific; and his firm and steady +step, and determined resolution, told that he was a soldier of cool +courage, not easily to be beaten. + +It was old Colson, or poor Robinson Crusoe, who, as it has been stated, +was making his way with fish up the Orwell. + +He and young Barry, now side by side, beat back the smugglers to their +boat. Desperate was the contest; but there was no opposing the +unearthly-looking being, with his bones, perforated plates, and charms +dangling about his person. Well was it that he came so opportunely, for +without his help the fate of young Barry had been sealed for ever. It +was bad enough as it was. The smugglers retreated, and jumped into their +boat. Laud, seizing a carabine, levelled it at Barry, whilst Luff +pushed off the boat from the shore. + +"Let fly at him, Will! let fly at him! Revenge yourself and my fall!" + +A flash and loud explosion followed this advice. The smoke cleared off +in a second, and the pirates saw but the stately form of Robin standing +upon the shore. Young Barry--the generous, brave, and faithful +Barry--lay stretched upon the sand. + +Meantime Margaret had escaped. She had reached the Priory Farm; and +rushing into the room where the harvest-men were assembled, fell down +exhausted, with just strength of voice to say, "Fly--fly--fly to the +shore! Barry will be murdered!" + +The gamekeeper was off before Margaret arrived, having heard the report +of the pistols; and he went into the wood. The young men ran off to the +shore, and soon found the old fisherman supporting the head of the poor +young man. The blood was flowing fast from his wounds, and he was in a +swoon like death, though his heart beat, and he breathed painfully. They +formed a double row; they lifted him up, and carried him along as gently +as they could; but the poor fellow groaned with the agony of his +shattered arm and wounded side. + +Robin followed them, muttering curses against the foul fiend, and every +moment pointing to the departing boat of the smugglers with a clenched +fist, exclaiming, "The foul fiend be with you! He'll consume you yet, ye +cowards!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DISAPPOINTMENT + + +There is a sad and fearful void in the disappointed heart. + +Poor Margaret! but one short hour past and thy prospects were as bright +as the broad moonlight that shone upon thy path. Yea, they were as +bright to thine eye as that beautiful orb in the most brilliant night; +for thy love was pure, true, and abiding. + +How great was the reverse our heroine experienced when she quitted her +lover, and returned to the Priory Farm worse than desolate! Had she +never seen him again, _her_ disappointment could not have been so great. +Time might have taught her to consider him lost at sea, or taken by the +enemy, or killed in battle, or as having died a natural death. But as it +was, the tide had turned so suddenly; the change from the full flow to +the very lowest ebb was as instantaneous as if some gulf had swallowed +up the river, and left the channel dry. Clouds, black clouds intervened +between her and her lover. She had received a blight to all her hopes, +save one, and that was the last and best that any one could cleave to; +it was, "that God would change his heart, and one day make him see the +error of his way." + +She little thought how distant that day was. But it seemed that her +sister's words were at this time true: "Margaret, you will never marry +William Laud." + +Margaret was in the little parlour of the Priory Farm, in all the agony +of terror and the perturbation of confessing her faults to her master +and mistress, when the murmur of returning voices told that the good +farmer's men were coming from the shore. Her soul was so full--her heart +so anxious--her confession so open, so sincere--that even they who were +most angry with her could not find it in their hearts to be angry and +severe towards her at such a moment of distress. She was so full of +terror that she dared not to stir; she had no power to rise and make +inquiries upon the dreadful point upon which she wished to be most +satisfied. She heard the footsteps approach; and as the parlour-door +stood open, looking into the kitchen, she saw the young men bringing in +the heavy body of the youth, to whom, perhaps, she then owed her +existence; for her resolution had been formed, to have plunged into the +waves sooner than be taken away, against her will, by the smugglers. +Certainly she owed her present safety to the intrepid boldness of that +wounded man. She saw them bring him into the kitchen, pale, bloody, and, +as she first thought, lifeless; but a heavy groan, as they laid him down +upon the floor, by the fire, made her start up, and feel the first +spring of joy in her desponding heart, that he was not murdered. But the +joy that Laud was not his murderer was as great as that the youth was +not dead. + +Her mistress's voice, calling to bring water and assist her, restored +her to a consciousness of her duties. Here might be seen the benefit of +active employment in diverting her mind from its most painful feelings, +rousing it to think, and turning it away from tormenting itself. + +The surgeon was sent for immediately; and after a short delay in +preparing a bed in a room by itself, the young man was carried up by his +companions. Never was there a more melancholy change from the mirth of +"harvest-home," to the misery of a house of woe. To look into that +kitchen, which so shortly before was resounding with the cheerful voices +of merriment, and to see the long faces, to hear the whispers, and the +questions, and the remarks made upon the circumstances, presented a +scene so different and so painful, that description would fail to +express it. There sat the ancient fisherman, silent and thoughtful, his +left hand upon his forehead, and his right clutched convulsively with +his inward emotion. There stood the foreman of the field, with his +fellow-labourers, anxious to know who it was that had given the wound; +for they had as yet only been told that two men in a boat had fired upon +Barry, and wounded him. + +Meanwhile the old fisherman, who had witnessed the scene, was so +absorbed in his own reflections, that he did not seem disposed +voluntarily to afford them any information. + +At last one of them addressed Robin. + +"Who was the fellow that fired the gun, Robin?" + +"The foul fiend!" said Robin; "I saw him in the boat." + +"What foul fiend? was he devil or man?" + +"He was a demon, who left me for a moment to torment others. I knew +mischief would come of him as soon as he left me. He is always stirring +up infernal broils; and would bring a host of enemies against me, if it +were not for this charm. Look here," and taking from his side a +perforated bone, he held it up, saying, "this is the rib of Margery +Beddingfield, who was gibbeted on Rushmere Heath for the murder of her +husband. When I show him this, he will soon be off. This is so strong a +spell, he cannot touch me. But look! there he is! there he is!" and the +startled hinds closed round their lord, and looked fearfully in the +direction of the door, to see if the murderer was coming. + +"Aye, look at this, thou false fiend! Dost thou remember how thou didst +stir up Margery, and Richard Ringe of Sternfield, her paramour, to +murder John Beddingfield, the farmer, near Saxmundham? Thou couldst +inflame their hot young blood to mischief; but what dost thou come here +for? Off! off, I say! Look here! thou hadst better go to the officers of +justice. Ha! ha! he is gone!" and the old man smiled again, as if he had +defeated his foe, and was congratulating himself on the victory. + +These things were very unsatisfactory to the minds of these +plain-thinking countrymen. They again and again put questions to him, +but could get no other answers than incoherences about the foul fiend. + +"But what had Margaret Catchpole to do with it?" + +"Ask her yourself: the foul fiend always finds an easier prey in a +woman." + +At this time Margaret came into the room; and ignorant as she herself +was of Robin's efficient aid, she could not help asking him if he had +seen the fight. + +"Did _you_ see it, young woman? I saw you long before I saw the fight." + +Margaret did not ask any more questions; for in another minute several +asked her who had been fighting, what it was for, and what she had to do +with it. She knew too well to speak would be to betray herself; and she +was glad to find they were in ignorance of the real perpetrator of the +deed. She was called into the parlour just then, and rejoiced to escape +the inquisitive demands of her fellow-servants. + +"That's a clever girl," said old Robin, as she left the +kitchen,--"that's a clever girl. Which of you boys would like her for a +wife?" + +"Ask Will Simpson," said a sly fellow. + +"Ask poor Jack Barry," said another; "'tis my belief Jack got his blow +from a rival in Margaret's love." + +"What fiend told you that, young man? 'Tis seldom any of 'em speak the +truth? But, perhaps, you know who he is that rivals Jack?" + +"No, not I--not I. I know who he would be, if he was alive; and just the +sort of fellow, too, to give Jack a nab. But he's dead and gone long +ago, and maybe his bones are at the bottom of the sea, for he was killed +on Felixstowe beach." + +"Who's he? who's he?" + +"Why, Will Laud, the smuggler. Don't you know him, Robin?" + +"Yes; but I never knew that he was dead." + +"Oh, yes, he's dead enough. I saw a fellow who told me he helped to bury +him in the sands at the foot of the cliff." + +"Then the foul fiend has brought him back to life again, for I have seen +him many times; and I spoke to him this very night, and he to me. Not +only so, I know him well; and I wish all the fiends had him before he +had given that brave lad his death-blow." + +"What! Will Laud? you do not mean to say Will Laud was on the shore +to-night?" + +"Ask Margaret Catchpole: she can tell you as much as I." + +Margaret returned just as this was said; and Will Simpson, perhaps as +much in spite (for Margaret had upon some occasion of his rudeness given +him such a specimen of her dexterity with a frying-pan, as left a +memorial on his head not easily to be forgotten or forgiven) as for +inquisitiveness, put this question-- + +"I say, Peggy, who met you upon the shore to-night, eh?" + +"What's that to you? A better man than you." + +"Perhaps a better Will, too; eh, Peggy? One who will have his will of +you, too, before you die, and tame you, my dear." + +"Perhaps he may; and should it be so, he will make a 'will o' the wisp' +of you, Simpson." + +"He'll be hanged first, Peggy, take my word for that. He'll not be shot, +nor drowned: he's born to be hanged." + +"And what are you born for, you coward, that, at such a time as this, +you should be quarrelling with me?" + +"I'm born to be his informer; and, before long, I'll have you both up +before the Squire, for all this piece of work." + +Margaret did not like this banter; it looked as if they already knew +that Will Laud was the intruder. She was somewhat less ready at her +replies than usual, and felt too great a fear that she might commit +herself. She tried, therefore, to turn the subject. + +"My master, Robin, desires me to give you some supper." + +"Thank your master, but I have had mine; and, but that I hoped to hear +what the doctor said to the poor young man upstairs, I should long ago +have been on board my boat." + +The greatest cowards are not easily silenced when they find themselves +able to browbeat an adversary with impunity, and that adversary a woman. + +"Well, Margaret, if you won't tell me, I'll tell you whom you met upon +the shore. You met one whom Robin says the foul fiend has raised to life +again." + +Margaret turned very pale, and staggered to a chair. But Simpson still +went on. + +"O Peggy, Peggy, you have a guilty face! I don't wonder at your feeling +shame. You've managed to hide the smuggler, have you? If you don't take +care, both you and Will Laud will come to a bad end." + +Margaret rushed into the parlour, and fell at her master's feet, +imploring him to interfere and stop the reproaches of his men, who were +treating her in a way she did not deserve. Her mistress made her sit +down in the keeping-room; and, speaking a few words to her husband, he +left them. He remonstrated with his men, and was in the act of insisting +upon their departure to their homes, as Dr. Stebbing arrived. He was +desired at once to go into the parlour; and there he recognized that +high-spirited girl who, in the cause of humanity, had, in her childhood, +galloped the pony to Ipswich for his aid. She rose and curtseyed; but +her feet gave way under her, and she sank to the floor. The memory of +her dear sister, the doctor's former patient, her own happiness at that +time, and her present misery, were too much for her to bear, and she was +quite overcome. The good doctor raised her up, and, with his cheerful +voice, tried, in his usual kind way, to comfort her. + +"Come, come, my girl, what's the matter? what's the matter? Are you the +patient I'm come all this way to see? I thought I was sent for to see a +young man. But what's the matter with you? Ah! is it so, my lassie?" +(for his sagacity gave him a glimpse of the truth). "Come, cheer up, +cheer up; we'll go and see the lad. I dare say he'll soon be better. +Cheer up, cheer up." + +"Come, my good sir, let us have a light, and go upstairs," said the +doctor to the master of the house. "Now, my dear, go and fetch us a +towel and some warm water. Come, bestir yourself; I know it will do you +good." + +This was the best medicine for Margaret, with whom to be told to do +anything, and not to go and do it, was almost an impossibility, so much +had she been accustomed to obey. + +All that could be done for the youth was to lay him in as easy a posture +as possible; for he was in too much agony even to have his clothes +removed. One of his companions sat and wiped the cold perspiration from +his brows, whilst another washed his hands and face. He breathed quickly +and heavily, with shuddering fits that shook the bed violently, and he +was evidently in great pain. + +"Come, my lads, come, lend me a hand--let us see--let us see! where is +the hurt?--where is the wound?--what's the lad's name?" + +"John Barry, sir." + +"John, my lad, let's look at you!" but John took no notice of the +doctor. + +"I think, sir, his arm is broke, for it dangled by his side all the way +we carried him." + +"Let us see, my boy, let us see! 'Tis broken! high up too, too high up. +But we must strip him. Gently there--gently there, my lad"; and the +groans of the poor fellow told his agony. The work was done with great +care, and by slow degrees. But it was done, and then the frightful +nature of his wounds became conspicuous: a gunshot wound from the middle +of the arm to the shoulder. The ball had struck the humerus, and broken +it, glanced over the head of it, and passed between the scapula and +clavicle, and it might be easily felt lying in the external portion of +the trapezian muscle. It was so near the skin that it was easily +extracted; the difficulty was to get away those parts of the clothing +which had been carried into the wound. Such was the effect of the first +shot. + +The second was the most severe. It had pierced through the long dorsal +muscle, and the ball lay directly against the lumbar vertebrae. This +wound was the more agonizing because it had pierced the strongest +muscles of the human frame, and bruised the stoutest part of the +backbone. + +After the doctor had examined his wounds and ascertained that they were +of the most serious nature, he said-- + +"This will be a work of time. Get some stimulants--put warm flannels on +his feet--his extremities are icy cold. He has had violent exertion--all +his muscles are hard and stiff. Put his hands in warm water. Wash his +temples with warm vinegar. There, there; come, my poor fellow, come; +consciousness will soon return." + +He opened his eyes, looked at the doctor, then at his master, then at +his friends, and at last at Margaret, who was putting warm flannels to +his feet. He looked earnestly at her, spoke not, but a tear stole down +his face as he closed his eyes again. + +His wounds were now probed, cleaned, and dressed, as carefully as if he +had been one of the wealthiest squires or nobles of the land, and he was +then left for the night, attended by two of his fellow-servants, in case +he should need assistance or restraint. + +"There, there, good-night, John, good-night. I think you'll do now. +Come, come, he feels a little easier. He breathes better"; and patting +his cheeks in his good-humoured way, Dr. Stebbing left him, and went +down into the parlour. + +There is always a little chit-chat with the doctor after the usual +labour of his profession is over, and he is quietly seated with the +family. It is then he judges of what is best for his patient, for at +such times the secrets of most families come forth; and if love or law, +if loss of stock or money, if cruelties, injuries, or any causes +whatever have been acting upon the patient's mind, the doctor is sure to +be made the confidant. + +If the faculty could find out the means of supplying all their invalids +with such things as they really wanted, they would soon get well, but +in default of such means medicine and good advice--very necessary +articles in their way--are supplies in which the faculty seldom fail. + +"Doctor, will you take anything to-night? you have had a cold ride, and +will have another on your way home--shall my mistress give you anything +warm?" + +"I care not if she does. A little nutmeg in a little warm +brandy-and-water, and just one slice of your nice harvest-cake, and I +shall be comfortable." + +The first question asked of the doctor was, "What he thought of his +patient?" + +"Why, he has got an ugly wound that will take months to heal. He will +not be able to be moved for six or seven weeks. Where do his parents +live?" + +"At Levington," was the reply. "His father is tolerably well to do in +the world, though he has a large family. I have not a steadier young man +on my premises, nor a quieter, soberer, or better behaved lad, or a +better workman belonging to me." + +"So much the better. But what does the old fisherman do in the kitchen? +I thought he never sat down in any house, but always kept to his boat?" + +"He is only waiting to speak to you, doctor. At least, he said he should +stop to hear your report." + +"I should like to have one word with him." + +"I'll go and tell him so"; and off trotted the worthy farmer for Robin, +with whom he soon returned, and then, beckoning to his wife, they left +him and the doctor alone together. + +"Well, Robin, what an odd fish you are! I can never persuade you to come +into my kitchen, and here you are, hail fellow well met, with the +farmer's men at Harvest-Home. How is this, Robin? I shall tell my +daughter of you, and leave her to set some of your foul fiends to work +upon you." + +"They've been at work pretty well to-night, doctor, or else I'm wofully +mistaken. One of 'em has done a pretty job of mischief here; and it's +well if he don't do more before he's done." + +The doctor understood his dialect, and knew how to get out of him what +he wanted. + +"Who did the foul fiend work upon? who was his victim?" + +"He left my boat, and went aboard Will Laud's." + +"What! the smuggler? I thought he was shot long ago." + +"So others thought, but not I; for I saw him and a sturdy villain of his +pass my boat, with all their sails set; and when my Infernal Broiler +left me, and sat grinning on his mast, I knew he was up to mischief." + +"What mischief, Robin?" + +"Why, look ye, doctor; you must ha' seen the mischief. Ha'en't you +dressed the young man's wounds?" + +"Yes, Robin; but how came your imp to be the cause of this?" + +"Nay, that you must ask the girl here; for seldom do my imps fail to +make mischief among the sex." + +"Was it a love affair?" + +"Nay, it didn't appear much o' that." And here Robin, in his quaint +language, well understood by the doctor, told his own tale as it +happened. + +"Well, Robin, all I can say is, that, but for you, one of the finest +young fellows in the land would have lost his life; and there's a guinea +for you." + +"No, no, master; give me a guinea for my fish, but don't give me a +guinea for doing no more than I ought to do. Give it to the poor boy for +loss of time. I've got some good fish, and you may have some to-morrow +morning; but the fiends would torment me all night, if I went to my +hammock with a guinea for my reward. No, doctor, no. I thank you, too; +but tell me the boy will do well, and I'm well paid for my pains." + +"He will do well, I think, Robin, if his mind be not disturbed." + +The doctor felt, as perhaps the reader will, that the honest old +fisherman, bewitched and bewildered as he was, had more good feeling +about him than many a man of clearer head and a less scrupulous +conscience, who would have crept along the mud to pick up a guinea for +his dirty pocket. + +"Well, well, my boy, I shall not find such an odd fish in your boat as +your own self. You may bring up your basket to my door, and my daughter +will deal with you. Instead of a guinea, I must give you any charm that +you can ask me for." + +"Keep to that, doctor, and I'll ask you soon to give me one that I stand +much in need of, and which you only can furnish me with. You are surgeon +to the gaol, and I want something out of that place. I'll tell you, one +of these days, what it is. My boat is now high and dry upon the shore. +You might ask some of the landsmen here to lend me a hand to get her +off. I shall be in Ipswich as soon as yourself." + +No sooner was the request made than it was granted; and Robin and five +or six good stout fellows were on the shore, and soon shoved the boat +off, which, quicker than the men could walk upon the sand, moved on her +native element to the well-timed stroke of the able fisherman. + +The doctor's first introduction to the flying Margaret is well known to +the reader. His knowledge of her under those circumstances made him feel +for her; but there were some questions he wished to put to her, as his +curiosity had been excited by what Robin had revealed. The farmer had +already given him some hint about her confessions; but the doctor wanted +to find out whether, after what had taken place that night, the tide of +her affections might not have turned a little toward his patient. It was +a delicate question to ask, but he thought he would find it out by +another plan; so he desired to see Margaret in the parlour before he +left the house. + +"I did not half like your look, my girl, when I first saw you to-night. +Come hither; let me feel your pulse: let me look at your tongue. Your +pulse is quick, and you've some fever hanging about you." + +"I thank you, sir, I shall be better to-morrow. I'm very sorry for what +has happened." + +"You could not help it, my girl--you could not help it; it was not your +fault." + +"I don't know that, sir,--I don't know that. I blame myself much; +but--but--" + +"But you don't like to blame anybody else, Margaret; I know you." + +"Well, sir, that's the truth; but yet he was to blame." + +"Who? Barry?" + +"No, sir, no; but he who shot him." + +"Yes, he was a cowardly fellow. What induced him to do it?" + +"Because Barry's brother shot _him_. I suspect he was excited at the +remembrance of his own sufferings, and urged on to desperation by the +fellow that was with him; and, in a moment of madness, thought to +revenge himself." + +"This was not right, Margaret; it was still very cowardly." + +"Why, yes, it was; but--but, I do not defend him, sir." + +"What then, Margaret? what then?" + +"Why, I was to blame, sir!" + +"Why so?" + +"Because I told him Barry loved me, sir." + +"Ho, ho! a little jealousy, was it? Was it so, Margaret? Well, well, he +will be more jealous now." + +"I'm sorry for it, sir. Had I not thought he would have known my +preference for him, I should not have told him this. It is this I blame +myself for, as much as I do him. I hope Barry will do well, sir." + +"Your hopes may be disappointed, Margaret. His is a very bad case; and, +if he dies, Will Laud will be hanged." + +"Then you know all, sir? Oh, pray save him if you can, sir!" + +"Who?" + +"John Barry, sir,--John Barry." + +"Margaret, do you love him?" + +"No, sir; yes--yes, sir. I think he is a very good young man, and he +would be a great loss to his parents." + +"More so than to you, my girl?" + +"Oh, yes, sir, yes. I'm sure I wish him well, and shall always feel +grateful to him for his kindness to me. I do hope he will recover, sir, +for Laud's sake." + +This was enough; the doctor now knew all. He saw that his patient was in +love with Margaret, but that Margaret loved another. He was in +possession of the whole secret. He promised to do all he could; he +dismissed the girl; and, after a few minutes' further chat with the +master and mistress of the house, and strongly advising them to send for +Barry's parents in the morning, he took his leave. His little bay pony +soon rattled up Gainsborough's Lane, through the open fields towards the +Race-course, and over Bishop's Hill, to the town of Ipswich. + +Barry's parents were not long in coming to their son, nor long in +learning the real state both of his mind and body. It is the happiest +time to die when a parent's tender care is round you. Then the agony of +suffering is greatly relieved, and the heart can open its most inward +thoughts. It turns, with such filial respect and thankfulness, towards +those whom it does not like to grieve, but who are always the most +quick-sighted to see our wants and to relieve our distresses. So gentle +is a mother's love--so delicate, so soothing, so healing to the youthful +mind, that nature almost decays with pleasure before her soft +attentions. Nor is a father's manliness and feeling less sensibly +experienced at such a time. He may not have a woman's gentleness, but he +has a firmness and a quietness of action which are seldom seen at other +times, and which make a sick room seem more calm and sufferable. He has +quite as deep feeling, though it is more subdued. Who that ever has been +ill in his youth, and has seen the kindness of parental love, but has +thought that he never could die happier than when his fond parents were +near him? + +So thought young Barry when his parents were by his side; and not only +thought so, but plainly told them that he wished to die. + +"I hope not yet, my boy," said his father. "The young sapling may get a +blight, but it soon recovers, and springs up vigorously; but the old +trees naturally decay. I hope to go first, my boy." + +"Yes, father, such may be your hope and natural expectation; but Heaven +avert it! You have others to live for; may I never live to see your +death!" + +"Come, John, do not give way to such feelings. You know not yet what the +good God may have in store for you." + +"He has, indeed, been good to me, father, and has left me nothing more +to wish for in this world." + +"Perhaps not for your own benefit, John; but we are not always to die +just when we wish it. Neither are we to live merely for ourselves. We +are called upon to live for others; and more may be expected of us on +this account than upon our own. We are not to be such selfish beings as +to think, 'The wind blows only for our own mill.'" + +"I meant not to find fault, father; but I am disappointed, and feel +therefore useless." + +"I know your disappointment, boy; but I would not have you take it so to +heart as to let it prey upon your spirits. There are others far better +and more worthy of you, who may esteem you, John, for your good conduct +and character; and one of such may make you an excellent companion for +life." + +"Father, I know I am not so wise as you are. I have not your experience; +yet this I feel and say, that I hope you will never find fault with that +poor girl." + +"I will not, John, in your presence; but how can a father help feeling +hurt and angry with a girl who prefers a smuggler to an honest man?" + +"That may or may not be a fault; but you just now told me we should live +for others, and not be so selfish as to think only of ourselves. Now, I +do believe that Margaret lives only in the hope that Will Laud will +become an altered man." + +"He never will! A lawless villain, who will revenge a blow upon the +innocent hand that never gave it, has a heart too reprobate and stony +ever to change." + +"You will not say it is impossible?" + +"I did not mean to say it is a thing impossible with God; but you seemed +to think that, by Margaret's influence, such a change might be effected. +This, I say, will never be. Laud may influence her, and may corrupt her +mind; but, take my word for it, the man whose love is swallowed up in +the violence of passion, as his is, will never produce anything good. He +will be a selfish villain even towards the poor unfortunate victim of +his choice." + +"Oh, father, would that you could persuade Margaret of this! She is +indeed a good girl, and a warm-hearted one; and, had she received any +education, would have been as good and respectable as my own dear +mother." + +"All this may be, John; but, if I could persuade you out of this fit of +fancy, I then might have hope that I should have some power of +persuasion with Margaret. Till then I shall stand no chance. For, if I +cannot root the weeds out of my own ground, how shall I be fit to work +for others?" + +The young man sighed deeply, and could answer no more. He felt the force +of the superior wisdom of his father; and, owning to himself that there +was much truth in the remark, felt how difficult it would indeed be to +conquer in his own heart his hopeless attachment. + +In due time, Barry's wounds progressed towards recovery, and it was +agreed among his fellow-labourers that, before the cold weather should +set in, they would form a corps for carrying him home to Levington. +Twelve undertook the task; and, one fine October day, they managed to +place him and his bed upon a frame, made for the occasion, to which were +attached shoulder-pieces, and so conveyed him to his father's residence, +where all things were made ready by his mother's hand for his +reception. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +EVIL WAYS + + +Onward went the boat to the haven at the mouth of the river, and the two +guilty souls in her felt that they had narrowly escaped capture, and +that, if the law of the land should ever lay hold upon them, they would +both have to rue the foul deed they had committed. But the law of the +land had long been set at defiance by them; and they owned none but +those of the wind and weather, which compelled them to run for foreign +ports, and to slink into those of their own country at the dead of +night. + +After various congratulations upon their luck in getting off, and making +many remarks upon the late encounter, they turned to their duties as +sailors, kept their boat trim, and scudded along, with all sails set, +toward the _Alde_, which now lay in the shade of Felixstowe Cliff, +moored, as if waiting wind and tide to carry her up the river. They were +well acquainted with the spot, and bore away through the bright +moonlight, reached the mouth of the river, and were at length lifted up +by the rolling waves of old Ocean, which came tumbling in from the +harbour's mouth. + +"The light burns low by the water's edge, and is hidden from the +sentinel on Landguard Fort. All's right; we shall be on board +presently." + +Soon did they run along the side of the dark cutter; and giving the +signal, "Aldeburgh", were well understood by the dark-looking sailor who +kept watch upon the forecastle of the ship. All was right; and when the +captain came on board, all hands were had up, the sails quickly set, and +the anchor weighed. Luff took the helm, the captain retired to his +cabin, and in a short time the boat was hoisted in, and away they dashed +to sea. + +The dark dreams of the captain were mingled with the visions of his +past failure, and disturbed with the jealousy and hatred of all the +Barrys. The phosphoric lights upon the sea, as the vessel glided through +the waves, made it look like a boiling ocean of flame, like burning +waters; and the spray which the waves gave off resembled smoke. They +were fiery spirits who lived on board that vessel, as ardent as the +liquid flame they bore in their tubs, and about as productive of good. +Could the history of every one on board the _Alde_ be told, it would +make the blood curdle in the veins of many a stout landsman. They were +pirates as well as smugglers. Secrecy and crime went hand-in-hand with +them. Daylight and honesty were things scarcely known amongst them. + +The chief employer of these men lived, as the reader knows, in tolerable +repute, sometimes at one place, sometimes at another. He had many +vessels at sea, and Captain Bargood was as well known on the opposite +side of the German Ocean as on this. He accumulated riches, but he never +enjoyed them. He lived in a kind of terror, which those only who have +felt it can describe. He outlived, however, all his ships and all his +ships' companies; and looked, to the day of his death, an old +weather-beaten log, which had outstood storms and tempests, and come +ashore at last to be consumed. He prided himself, in his old days, upon +the many daring captains he had made, and the manner in which he had +secretly commanded them. He had a regular register of their appointments +and their course, how many trips each ship had taken, how she paid, how +she was lost or taken, and what became of her and her crew. That fearful +log-book could tell of many a horrid tale. It would also serve to show +the enormous extent of illicit traffic carried on at that period by one +man alone. + +We must now return to the _Alde_. While dashing through the sea, past +the sand-bank, or bar, at the mouth of the Deben, those on board saw a +solitary light burning in Ramsholt Church, a sign that she might send a +boat on shore in safety. Luff undertook to go. He did so, and found a +messenger from Captain Bargood to land the cargo at the Eastern Cliff, +as the coastguard had received information that a run was going to take +place at Sizewell Gap, and they had therefore drawn away their men, that +their force at that point might be strong enough. + +The work was soon done, and the desperate crew betook themselves to the +cave, to spend a night of revel and carouse, such as spirits like theirs +only could delight in. + +To the surprise of many, Will Laud remained on board, and preferred +taking a cruise, and coming in again the following night for the ship's +company. The fact, however, was, that he was afraid of the land. The +consciousness of his guilt, and the fear of the revenge of Barry, should +the coast-guard hear of his attack upon young Barry, the brother, acted +upon his nerves, and made him think himself safe only on the broad sea. + +A certain number of men always remained on board to take the vessel out +of sight of the land until the night, and then only were these +free-traders able to near the shore. The lives of these men were always +in jeopardy, and none of them ever turned out good husbands or friends. +When they were compelled to leave off the contraband traffic, they +generally took to poaching, and led fearful and miserable lives; which, +if traced to the close, would generally be found to end in sorrow, if +not in the extremity of horror. + +John Luff had an interview with Captain Bargood, and then told him of +Will Laud's awkward situation upon the banks of the Orwell. + +"A lucky fellow to escape as he did!" exclaimed Bargood. "He might have +been at this moment in Ipswich gaol, and from thence he would only have +escaped through the hangman's hands." + +"We must keep him out of the way, sir. We must again report him killed, +and change his name from Hudson. He is already known as Will Laud, and +his fame will spread along the shore." + +"Well, he is a lucky fellow. He should go round the world. I'll send +him, ship and crew, a good long voyage. Something may be done in the +fur-trade this winter. I have received a notice that I might send a +ship, and cheat the Hudson's Bay Company of a good cargo of skins. What +shall we dub the captain?" + +"Let's call him Captain Cook; I'll tell the crew it's your desire to +have the captain honoured for his success by giving him the title of the +great navigator." + +"That will do, John--that will do. Take these orders to Captain Cook. +Give these presents to the men. Tell them to disperse themselves upon a +visit to their friends, and meet again at the Cliff on the 12th of next +month, for the purpose of making a long voyage. In the meantime do you +and the captain contrive to get the ship into friendly quarters abroad, +and if you like to run ashore yourselves, there is my cottage at Butley +Moor, and you can take possession of it. But keep yourselves quiet. Five +of the crew belong to Butley, and I know what they will be up to. Do not +let Captain Cook go up the Orwell again, if you can help it, and steer +clear of the coastguard." + +"Aye, aye, master, I'll manage"; and, leaving the old commodore, he +returned to the cave, and reached it at the precise moment when the +hardy fellows were drinking "Long life to Jack Luff!" + +"I'm just come in time, boys, to make you all return thanks instead of +me. I wish you all long life and good luck. I've got you all near three +weeks' run ashore. So here's your healths! But I say, boys, the +commodore approves our young captain, and has appointed him a good +voyage next turn; and as he is to sail across the Atlantic, he wills +that you all should join in calling him Captain Cook." + +"With all our hearts! With all our hearts!" exclaimed several of the +crew. "But what were you saying about the three weeks' run?" + +"Why, that you must all be here by the 12th of October. In the meantime, +if you want to see me or the captain, you will find us after next week +at the green-windowed cottage at Butley. Till then, my boys, follow +your own fun. Here's your pay, and a present besides for each." + +A noisy shout issued through that dark and dreary cavern. They were not +long in obeying their employer's orders. By twos and threes they +dispersed, some to Boyton, some to Butley, some to Shottisham, Ramsholt, +Bawdsey, Hollesley, Felixstowe, one or two as far as Trimley, Nacton, +and Ipswich. + +The country was too hot for some of them, who, being suspected of being +concerned in the attack made upon young Barry, were looked after in +order to be prosecuted for attempt at murder. All pains had been taken; +rewards offered, their persons described; and so nearly did some of the +crew resemble the description of their companions, that they had to cut +their cables, and run for the furthest port in safety. John Luff and the +captain took up their quarters again by Butley Moor, and employed +themselves, as before, in the dangers, and to them familiar sports, of +poaching. + +The 12th of October came, and the smugglers returned to their places of +meeting, and the captain and his mate met them at the cave. Two only did +not come to the muster, and these two were always suspected of being +rather "shy cocks." + +"I say, captain," said one of the men, "I had like to have suffered for +you, and Tim Lester for Jack Luff. Two fellows laid an information +against us, and swore that we were the men who attempted to murder young +Barry. The hundred pounds' reward would have made them stick to it as +close as a nor'-wester to the skin. We cut our cables, and ran off and +escaped. The country around is hot enough after you both, so the sooner +we are on board the better." + +Accordingly, stores were soon shipped, anchors, cables, spars, and +rigging carried on board, orders given, and "far, far at sea they +steered their course." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE PARTING + + +Unaffected was the joy with which the parents and family of young Barry +received their brave son into their peaceful cot. The good miller and +his wife welcomed the pale and dejected youth with that quiet, composed, +and affectionate interest which at once soothes and comforts a sick +soul. + +The young man had more upon his mind than he chose to speak of, and a +heavy weight upon his spirits, which not all the cheerfulness of his +brothers and sisters and parents could allay. His wounds gradually +healed; but his weakness continued, and he appeared to be suffering some +internal torture which prevented his sleeping at night. He read, and +tried to improve his mind; but it availed nothing. His sisters, too, +sought every opportunity to afford him diversion; but the languid smile +and forced expression of thankfulness told that, although he felt +grateful, he did not relish their mirth. He looked intently into the +newspaper, especially into all matters connected with the coast and +coastguard; and when he read of any skirmish with the smugglers, he was +feverishly anxious to know who they were. He also expressed a particular +wish to see his brother Edward. + +Though the miller could not say exactly when Edward might be expected +home, he resolved to send to the stations where he might be found, and +urge him to obtain leave of absence. + +It was not long before that leave was given, and he returned to visit +his parents and his invalid brother. The young men mutually rejoiced to +see each other, and were not long in comparing notes upon their separate +adventures. + +"I prophesy I shall catch him one of these days," said Ned; "and if I +do, he shall never remember his last escape. We know him well when we +see him, but the fellow changes his name as often as he does his place, +so that our information is frequently contradictory. If once I have a +chance of changing shots with him again, Jack, he shall pay me for those +cowardly wounds in your side." + +"Nay, Ned, I had rather that the sea swallowed him up, than that you +should shoot him." + +"How then would you know he was dead, Jack? His ship might be lost, and +the wreck driven on shore; but we should not know it, and he might or +might not escape. There's nothing like a bullet for certainty." + +"But you would know him, if you saw his body cast ashore?" + +"Yes, that I should; and I would soon let you know it, too." + +"Well, if I must hope for his destruction, I would rather it were in +this way than by your hand." + +"For your sake, Jack, I should be satisfied with it so; but, for my own +part, I have no compunction in shooting a desperado like him, who lives +upon the vitals of others, and fights against his king and country, and +sets at defiance all laws, human and divine. He would kill any man that +opposed his nefarious traffic; and, as I am one that he has sworn to +attack by land or by sea, whether in war or peace, I see no reason why I +should not defend your life and my own, even though it may cost the +taking away of his." + +The sufferer did not argue the point any further; and especially as +there were reasons of a private nature which had a powerful influence +upon his mind. He revived very much during his brother's stay, and +seemed to be more cheerful than at any former period of his illness. He +even assisted in the labours of the mill, and by little and little began +to pick up strength. His brother's leave of absence, however, expired; +and the two were seen to walk away together over the hill, arm-in-arm, +in the most earnest and deep conversation. + +"Never fear, Jack; I will keep your secret honestly, and render you all +the help in my power. I will let you know our movements." + +"And take care of yourself, Ned, and do not risk your life for my sake. +If you should fall, what should I feel?" + +"I hope you would feel that I fell in a good cause, brother. At least, I +do feel it so myself, or I should not be a happy man. No man can be +happy, John, who even thinks that he is doing wrong." + +"God preserve you, dear brother! Farewell!" + +The two brothers parted, one to his duties at Dunwich, where his station +then was, the other to his home and thoughts. + +Anticipation is the greatest quickener of mortal spirits. There is +something so lively in the expectation of things upon which the heart is +fixed, that even time passes quickly by during the period in which hope +is so vivid. But there is a point at which the tide turns, and as +gradually operates in a reverse manner, when the heart sickens, +desponds, and grows gloomy. + +Young Barry returned from his parting walk with his brother in high +spirits, elated with hope, and better both in mind and body. He assisted +his father in his work, and was at times playful with his sisters. So +much did his health improve at this time, that his parents began to hope +that the ensuing spring would see him perfectly restored. + +And where, all this time, was she, the unfortunate cause of all his +misery, and the most unintentional marplot in this history? She was as +great a sufferer as he could possibly be. Nothing could equal her +distress of mind at the turn affairs had taken. A bodily affliction +might have proved a comfort to her. She felt, after all that had taken +place, that the indulgence of her kind master and mistress should be +rewarded with more than usual exertions on her part. She had stirring +employment for her hands, as well as much exertion for her mind. + +It would have been a pleasant thing for her could she have been absent +when the sharp gibes of her fellow-servants would torment her with +insinuations. There is dreadful cruelty in that man's heart who delights +to torment a creature which cannot defend itself. Poor Margaret felt +that she had no defence to set up, and no friend to defend her. To hear +the hopes expressed that Laud might be soon taken, and the reward talked +of for his apprehension, and the wishes expressed by some that they +might have the opportunity of handling the cash: these things, coming +from those whom she met every day, made her present position very +uncomfortable. + +More than once, one would announce at dinner-time that the smuggler had +been seen on shore and captured. Again, it was stated that he was taken +in an open boat at sea. And if a sailor chanced to call at the house, +Margaret's heart was in a flutter lest he should be seen by some of the +men, and she should be ridiculed. These things kept the poor girl's +heart in a constant state of apprehension, and evidently affected her +health; whilst the accounts brought to the farm, from time to time, of +young Barry's protracted sufferings, were anything but satisfactory to +her. Her master and mistress were uniformly kind to her, or she could +not have borne her sufferings. As it was, she found herself so +uncomfortable, that she resolved to give her mistress warning, and to +leave her as soon as she could suit herself with another servant. She +begged her mistress not to think that she was dissatisfied with her or +with her work: she told her plainly that she suffered so much from the +taunts, and even the looks, of the men upon the farm, that she could not +live there, and she was resolved to go home to her parents. + +About the latter end of the ensuing November, Margaret returned to her +parents; and if she did not live quite so well as she had done, she +lived, at all events, in peace. + +It was at this moment of her utmost poverty that Margaret's love and +fortitude were put to the severest trial. In the depth of the winter, +she received an unexpected visit from young Barry, who, claiming as he +did a more than common interest in her fate, and a more than passing +share of her acquaintance, well knew that he should not be denied +admission into her father's cottage. He entered, looking extremely pale +and thin; but Margaret was glad to see him; and more especially as he +declared that he had walked all the way from Levington. She dusted a +seat for him; and placed it by the crackling fagot-fire, requesting him +to rest himself after his walk. It was about half-past two o'clock in +the afternoon; her father was cutting fagots on the heath; her mother, +who had been unwell, had gone upstairs to lie down; her youngest brother +was attending the sheep; and she was alone at the time young Barry +entered. He seated himself, and answered her kind inquiries after his +health, and received her grateful expressions of thankfulness for his +kindness to her upon former occasions, and especially upon that day when +he had received his wound. + +Barry heard this with that true modesty which a good man always feels. +He said it was only his duty; he regretted the conduct of his former +friends and fellow-labourers, which had driven Margaret from her place, +and he asked her if she intended to go to service again. She replied, +"Not in this part of the country. I hope soon to go and stay with my +Uncle Leader at Brandiston, who, though he has a large family of his +own, has yet kindly consented to take me in, if I should want a home." + +"Margaret," said the young man, fixing his eyes upon her intently, "are +you in want of a home, and are there any circumstances in the world that +will ever induce you to share mine with me? I am come over for no other +purpose than to ask you this question. Give me a hopeful answer." + +It is impossible for any woman, with a woman's heart, not to feel +grateful to an honourable man, who, regarding not the poverty and +reverse of circumstances which she may have experienced, renews those +earnest vows which once, in happier days, he had before offered. +Margaret felt young Barry's kindness, and owned it with the deepest +thankfulness, if not in words of eloquence, yet in words of such +simplicity and earnestness, as spoke the noble resolution of a good and +honest, though, alas, mistaken mind! + +"I do not say, John, that there are no circumstances under which I might +not be induced to accept your kindness, and for which I might not +endeavour to render you the service and obedience of my whole life; but +there is one circumstance which would utterly preclude my acceptance of +your offer; yet forgive me if I say, I hope that one circumstance will +for ever exist." + +"What is that one, Margaret? Name it." + +"Nay, John, you know it well. I have told you before, that as long as I +know that Will Laud is living, or at least until I know that he is dead, +I will never marry any other man." + +"But you must know, Margaret, the dangerous life he leads, and the +precarious tenure by which that life is held, subject as it is to all +the perils of the sea." + +"Alas! I know it well; but there is a God who governs and directs all +things for good, and I hope still that the day of grace and penitence +may arrive, in which, though fickle as he now is, he may be altered and +improved. Nothing is impossible; and as long as life lasts, so long will +I have hope." + +"But your hopes, Margaret, may be blighted--it may be that the sea +itself may devour him." + +"It may be so. It will require something more than the bare report of +such a calamity to convince me of the fact, even though years should +bring no tidings of him." + +"But if you should have the truth asserted by one who should chance to +see him perish, would that be sufficient proof?" + +"No, sir, no! Except I know from my own sight, or from the most positive +evidence of more than one, I could not trust to it." + +"But if you were at last convinced of his death, might I then hope?" + +"It will be time to speak to me of that if God should grant me life +beyond that dreadful time; but, now that I think of your +kindheartedness, and know how unwilling you are to give unnecessary +pain, I begin to fear that you have some melancholy tidings to +communicate. Speak, John, speak!--your manner is unusual, and your +conversation is too ominous. Have you heard anything of Laud? Pray +speak, and tell me at once." + +This was more than the youth could at once perform. He had been so +carried away by his own passion, that he had not foreseen the effect +which his own unwelcome tidings might occasion. He now heartily wished +that he had left it for others to communicate. He hesitated, looked +painfully distressed, and was disconcerted at his own precipitancy. + +"I know, John, by your manner, that you have something to tell me, +though you seem afraid to utter it. Tell me the worst, tell me the +worst!" + +"Margaret, I own that I have been too abrupt. My own hopes have made me +overlook the shock I know you will experience; but I had really no +intention of giving you pain. The worst is, that which I have often +thought would come to pass--Will Laud is dead!" + +"How do you know that?" + +"I saw him myself this very morning." + +"Where? where?" + +"At Bawdsey Ferry." + +"How knew you it was Laud?" + +"My brother saw his boat coming ashore in the gale last night, saw it +driven upon the rocks inside the bar, and smashed to pieces. Laud, with +three others, was cast on the shore quite dead. My brother sent me word +with the morning's light. I would not even trust to his report, so I +went to Bawdsey and saw him. I then hastened to be the first to convey +the intelligence to you. Forgive me, Margaret, that my selfish thoughts +should have made me forget your feelings." + +"I can forgive _you_; but I never should forgive myself, if I did not go +directly and judge from my own sight if it be really so. I have long +made up my mind to hear unpleasant tidings; but I have never been +without hope that something would alter him." + +"I fear that he was too desperate ever to reform." + +"I did not think he could reform himself. I lived in hopes that some +severe blow might bring him to his senses; but I must go and see. In the +meantime let me request you not to mention those matters to me again; at +least, let me have time to think of the past and consider of the +future." + +"You will pardon me, Margaret, and attribute to my regard for you the +precipitate step I have taken upon this occasion." + +"Where lies the body of poor Laud?" said Margaret, without seeming to +hear what Barry had last said. + +"It is in the boat-house at Bawdsey Ferry, together with the three +others." + +"I will go there to-day." And she immediately prepared to fulfil her +resolution. + +"How will you go? Will you let me drive you there? I can obtain a horse +and cart; and I think you know me well enough to be persuaded of my +care." + +"I do not doubt it, sir, but I had rather not go with you. I have no +objection to be your debtor for the horse and cart, but my youngest +brother will drive me." + +"It shall be here in half an hour. May I offer you any other aid?" + +"None, sir, whatever. You have my thanks; and I so far consider your +honesty and truth deserves my esteem, that, by to-morrow at this time, +if you will pay us another visit, I shall be glad to see you." + +"It is all that I could wish or hope. Till then, Margaret, good-bye." + +Young Barry left with a heart somewhat easier, though touched with pain +for the poor girl. He had, however, seen the only being who stood +between him and his affections laid a helpless corpse upon the boat. +Hope took the place of despair--he soon obtained the horse and cart, and +sent them to their destination. + +Barry's anxiety was greatly increased as the day wore away, and a night +of feverish suspense succeeded. Sleep was quite out of the +question--every hour he heard the clock strike in the room beneath him. +He saw the grey dawn approach, and beheld the gradually increasing light +clearer and clearer shining, and throughout the whole livelong night he +dwelt but upon one theme--that theme was Margaret! + +He rose next morning, looking, as his friends declared, like a ghost. He +ate no breakfast--he could not talk--he could not work; but could only +walk about, lost in abstracted meditation. The dinner-hour came with +noon, but he could eat nothing--he had neither appetite, speech, nor +animation. No efforts of his parents could call forth any of his +energies--they knew he had been to see his brother; but they could not +get him to declare the purport of his visit. He said that his brother +was well; that nothing had happened to him; that he had seen him quite +well; and that he was promoted a step in the service; and that he was +constantly employed. It was evident to them that something was preying +upon the young man's mind which he would not disclose. They did not, +however, distress him with questions; and after dinner, he departed from +the house, and was observed to walk toward Nacton. + +He found Margaret returned, and seated by the fireside, as she was the +day before when he visited her. She looked very pale and thoughtful. The +young man took this as a necessary consequence of the shock she had +received at the sight of her lover's corpse, little dreaming that at +that very moment she was actually feeling for the distress of him who +then stood before her. + +"Well, Margaret, I am come, according to your appointment." + +"I am very grateful to you for your assistance. I should never have +forgiven myself had I not gone. I saw your brother, sir, and he was very +kind to me. Through his permission I obtained a sight of the bodies in +the boat-house, and he told me concerning the melancholy wreck of the +schooner; but--but both you and your brother, sir, are mistaken." + +The heart of the youth was so stricken, he could not for a time utter +one single word--he sat all astonishment, all dismay, all agony, all +despair. There was no joyful congratulation for Margaret, there was no +apology for his mistake--feelings too deep for utterance overpowered +him. + +Margaret saw and felt, in the midst of her own hope, the painful +disappointment of his, nor could she summon courage to utter more. After +the most afflicting silence, John Barry, as if he could not doubt his +own and his brother's eyes, said-- + +"Are you sure I was mistaken?" + +"Quite," said Margaret; "quite." + +"And my brother, how could he be so deceived? he knew Laud so well." + +"Few knew him better, but I convinced him that he was mistaken. I asked +him where the wound was upon the forehead, which he had given him, and +which I had such difficulty in healing. It certainly was very like Laud, +and, had I not well considered him, I also might have been deceived; but +I am glad I went. Your brother is quite satisfied upon the point, but +very much hurt to think of the grief he has occasioned you. He felt very +sorry, also, for the pain which he kindly imagined I must have felt, +which, however, was greatly relieved by the joy I experienced in proving +to his satisfaction that he was mistaken. He declared that, for my sake, +he would never injure Will Laud if he could help it. Oh, how I wish that +Will could have heard that declaration! I am persuaded that they would +have been good friends from that time. I think you will find your +brother at Levington upon your return, for I know he asked permission of +Lieutenant Brand to let him visit his father for a day upon very urgent +business. I suspect this is but to see you, and explain to you his +mistake." + +"Margaret, I ought to have felt more for you than for myself. I wish you +well--I scarcely now can hope. I am indeed wretched, but it is my duty +to strive against these feelings--I know it is. But here in this country +I cannot remain--I must go abroad. I must see if I can get a grant of +land in Canada--I cannot live here; but I shall never forget you, +Margaret, never!--and may I hope that you will sometimes think of me?" + +"I can never forget you; and, depend upon it, wherever you may be, I +shall never cease to be grateful for your past kindness to a poor +unfortunate girl like myself. God will prosper you, sir--I am sure He +will. I am far too unworthy your notice. At all times I will pray for +your happiness." + +"I know not where I shall go, Margaret. I will see you but once more +before I go; but now good-bye." + +They shook hands and parted--each felt a sincere wish for the other's +welfare. One felt that the hopes of his life were blighted; the other, +that her vows of attachment were unalterable. + +Young Barry returned home, and found, as Margaret had supposed, his +brother Edward, who had been there some time before his return. It +needed but a look to tell what each felt. They took a turn round the +fields, and were seen arm-in-arm together. They were mutually satisfied +with each other. + +Edward Barry saw and admired his brother's choice, for until then he had +never been prepossessed in her favour. The warmth of feeling which she +betrayed when looking at the countenance of her supposed lover, as he +lay in the boat-house, and the pure and simple joy at discovering the +mistake; the very sensible manner in which she proved that she could not +be mistaken; the gratitude she felt, and the exemplary manner in which +she conducted herself, all conspired to give him a high opinion of the +character of this young woman, and made him feel that, notwithstanding +the strong wish he had entertained for Laud's death, for he had even +counted upon being opposed in deadly skirmish with him, he never could +take his life without giving a deep wound to one innocent and deserving +heart. + +Young Barry became another being--his health improved rapidly; he began +to work, and to talk of future days with cheerfulness. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE LAST INTERVIEW + + +About this time a new settlement was projected at New South Wales, and +Government had already sent several convict ships to Botany Bay and Port +Jackson; but the unruly state of the people, and the necessary military +government of the colony, made it very desirable that some respectable +settlers should be induced to go out. Accordingly, whenever store-ships +were sent, a premium was offered for farmers' sons or farming men to +emigrate. One hundred acres of land for as many dollars were granted: +still very few could be induced to go. It was not for some years that +any regular settlers' ship went out with free passengers. + +Young Barry conversed with his father upon this subject, and found him +quite disposed to let him have double the above-named sum, and even +encouraged the idea in the youth's mind. + +It so happened that Captain Johnson, who commanded one of the earliest +store-ships which was sent to that colony, was acquainted with +Lieutenant Brand, and had written to ask him if there was any young +farmer who would like to go out with him from Suffolk. It was through +him that young Barry got an introduction to Captain Johnson, who +promised him a good berth, and every convenient accommodation. It was +soon resolved that John Barry should forthwith get a grant of land; and, +being furnished with all requisite particulars, he went to London to see +his ship, and make arrangements with his captain. + +All his family now felt a double interest in him because he was going +away, to leave them, perhaps, for ever--at all events for a very long +period. His sisters worked hard to make him such changes of linen as +should last him for years; and every hand they could muster in the +village, capable of doing needle-work, was fully employed. Presents of +various kinds flowed in; and, upon his return home from town, he found +himself master of more stock than he could possibly have got together +for his own use in England, though he had laboured for it for many +years. He was very cheerful, and even told his sisters that as he might, +perhaps, marry soon in the new settlement, they might make him some sets +of female apparel! They laughed with astonishment at this request; but, +as they found him earnest, they each spared something from their own +wardrobe for his most eccentric request. Little, however, did they +surmise the real motive of his heart. + +The day was fixed for the vessel to sail, and John must be, with all his +goods and chattels, at London in a fortnight. The last Sabbath-day that +he spent with his father, mother, brothers, and sisters, was memorable +for the deep-rooted power it ever after retained over his mind. The +clergyman's sermon was upon the universal providence of God, and, as if +he preached it on purpose (but which was not the case, for he was +ignorant of the intended movement of the young man), he discoursed upon +the unity of the Church of Christ in every place--the communion we had +even with our antipodes in the worship of the same God. He instanced the +especial interest which the Church had with all the colonies of the +mother country, and spoke of the joy to be felt when that reunion should +take place at the resurrection of the just. The preacher spoke as if +even the poor benighted aborigines of Van Diemen's Land were his +brethren, and showed how necessary it was for us to extend to them our +helping hand to bring them to Christianity. + +After service, the worthy miller told his pastor that his son was going +to that very country, and that the young man had said he never should +forget that discourse. The clergyman went home with the family, and +spent that Sabbath evening with them. He fully entered into the prospect +before the young man, and pointed out to him the sure path to heaven, +through the strait gate, and inspired him with many hopes of doing good. +He joined with them in prayer, and gave them his blessing. He promised +to send him a valuable present of books, which he performed the next +day. Bibles, testaments, prayer-books, homilies, tracts, _The Whole Duty +of Man_, together with a work on planting, farming, horticulture, and +seeds, and one on natural history and botany, all which proved of the +greatest utility to the worthy and honourable young man upon whom they +were bestowed. + +The day of parting at length came--the last sad day--and the young man +remembered his promise to Margaret, that he would see her once more +before he departed. He found her at home on the Monday, that very day +upon the eve of which he was to take the mail from Ipswich for London. +He came to take a long and a last farewell. And why did he torment +himself and the poor girl with this last interview? Was it with a +lurking hope that he might persuade her to accompany him? He had really +and truly prepared for such an event, could he have brought it about. In +his chests were presents which his sisters had made at his request, in +case he should marry in the new settlement. He had suggested this; but +his heart had to the very last a lingering thought that perhaps Margaret +might be induced to embark with him. Upon what small last links will not +true love depend! + +"I am come, Margaret, to take my leave of you," said he, on meeting her. +"I am going to a colony the farthest off our own dear country of any +known island in the world." + +"Indeed, sir! if so I wish you well, and pray God to bless you!" + +"Before I go, Margaret," resumed he, "I must tell you that as long as +life holds in this poor heart of mine, I shall never love any one else. +I may prosper--I may be rich--I may be blessed with abundance--but I +shall never be blessed with a wife." + +"Oh, sir, say not so! you grieve me very much to hear you talk in that +way. You are a young man, and the path of life, though it may not be +without thorns, has yet many blessed plants for your happiness. Why +should you speak so despondingly? Change of place and occupation will +make you feel very differently." + +"You may think it may be so with me, Margaret; but if there be any truth +in this last doctrine which you have yourself divulged, it will hold +good in yourself as well as in me. If you change your place of abode, +and go with me, Margaret, will not you think very differently to what +you do now? Oh, that I could persuade you! Oh, that I could induce you +to join your lot with mine! Shake off that wild attachment to the +smuggler, and go with me. I will marry you to-morrow morning before we +sail. I have even hinted the matter to my captain. He has promised to be +bridesman, and has even taken out the license, and will be ready +to-morrow at ten o'clock. No preparation will be necessary for you: I +have prepared everything. Your bridal dress is even ready; and our +honeymoon will be kept on board the _Kitty_, which is to sail to-morrow +from London. Margaret, hear me! I am sure that your present connexion +will end in ruin. What is Will Laud but a desperate fellow who cannot +and, believe me, will not protect you? What sacrifice can it be to leave +a man who would have taken you away without your consent, for one who, +with your consent, will unite all his interests with yours as long as he +lives?" + +There was a pause--an awful pause--after this declaration, such as +beings feel who are held in the most agitating suspense, between life +and death. Painful--very painful--was the situation in which Margaret +was placed. There was a flood of overwhelming agitation. The tears stole +down her cheeks. Her dark eye shone like the sun through the midst of a +watery cloud, and told that it longed to burst through the mists of +darkness, but could not find an opening for its beams. Faster and faster +fell the big drops--heavier and heavier dropped the clouds of the +eyelids, till, like a flash of lightning, burst the words from her +lips-- + +"Oh, leave me! leave me, sir! I never can alter the pledge I have given! +I never can be unfaithful! Though I may be unhappy in my choice, yet it +is a choice to which I feel so bound, that nothing but death can part +us. Oh, that Laud were as good as yourself! I feel, I own, the contrast; +but I hope he may be better. Oh, do not urge me, sir--do not urge me to +desert the only chance left for the restoration of a young man to +honesty and life!" + +"Margaret, hear then my last words, and if they fail I will leave you. I +do not believe that Laud loves you as he ought to love. Did I think +there was one chance for your happiness with him, I would not urge my +present suit a moment longer. Believe me, he is not worthy of you. You +compel me to say he is a villain. He will betray you. He will desert +you. He will bring you to want, misery, and ruin. I know you love him. +Your early feelings have all been engaged in his favour; but which of +those has he not disappointed? which of those feelings has he not +wounded? Yet you cling to him, as if he were a safe-ground of anchorage. +Believe me--believe me, Margaret, the anchor you cast there will not +hold; it will suffer you to drift upon the rocks, upon which you will +perish. Say in one word, will you, or will you not, consent to my +offer?" + +"John Barry, on my knees (and she suited the action to the word) I thank +you, and bless you; but I do not--I cannot--accept your offer!" + +"Margaret, farewell!" exclaimed he, as he raised her from the ground, "a +long, a last farewell. Nevertheless, take this; it is a gift, which may +some future day be of service to you. You will not refuse it, as it is +the last gift of one who will never see you again. I know you cannot +even read it now; but the time may come when you may be enabled so to +do, and I had counted in my long voyage of teaching you so to do. It was +a present to me from my mother; but I have many more like it, given me +by our clergyman. Take it--take it--it can never do you hurt; and, with +God's blessing, it may be the means of our meeting in another world, +though we never meet again in this. God bless you, Margaret! farewell!" + +He placed a small clasped Bible in her hands, in the opening and the +closing leaf of which were two five-pound notes; small sums perhaps +apparently to us in this day, but magnificent compared with the means of +an early settler in a strange land. This ten pounds paid poor Margaret's +rent, and all her parents' debts, at a subsequent time, when the deepest +distress might have overwhelmed her. But Barry returned to his parents +with a noble consciousness of an upright mind. His parting with them was +not, comparatively speaking, of so passionate or stirring a nature as +that which he had so recently undergone, but it was purely affectionate +and loving. + +The hour of parting is over; and John Barry, as honest and worthy a +young man as ever left the shores of Old England, was soon on board the +_Kitty_, 440 tons; and with some few others, who like himself had a mind +to try their fortunes in a foreign land, he sailed for that colony, once +the most distant and unpromising, now becoming renowned, and which +probably will be the most glorious island of the Eastern world. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE WELCOME VISIT + + +There is no greater misery upon earth than to be left alone; to feel +that nobody cares for you--nobody is interested in you; and that you are +destitute as well as desolate! Poor Margaret at this time felt something +akin to this sensation. She had a regard for the youth who had driven +himself into voluntary exile on her account. She was not, however, to +blame for this, though many a one accused her of being the cause of it. +She was shunned by those of her own sex, on account of the disreputable +character of her lover, with whom it was believed that she still held +secret correspondence, although for a long time she had heard nothing of +him. The men cared little about her, because she cared nothing about +them; but kept herself quietly at home, attending to the sick-bed of a +rapidly declining mother. Occasionally she ventured to the Priory Farm, +to ask for some few necessaries required by her aged parent. Her former +mistress was uniformly kind to her; and not contented with affording the +assistance which was asked for, this good woman visited the sick-bed of +poverty, and ministered to the wants of the aged and infirm. + +Gratitude is very eloquent, if not in the multitude of words, yet in the +choice of them, because it speaks from the heart. Margaret's gratitude +was always sincere. She was a creature of feeling without cultivation, +and imbibed at once the very perfection of that spirit which all +benevolent minds wish to see; but which if they do not see, they are so +accustomed to the world that they are not very greatly disappointed. +Their surprise is rather expressed in that pleasure which they imbibe in +seeing the feeling of a truly grateful heart. An aged female, on a bed +of poverty and sickness, is but too frequently left to negligence and +want. When their infirmities are the greatest, and their cares always +the most anxious, then is it that the really charitable aid of the +benevolent is most needed. + +Margaret felt her own inability to assist her aged mother, beyond the +doing for her to the best of her powers in all attendances as nurse and +housewife. She herself earned no money; but she made the best possible +use of all the earnings of the family, as at that time she had not +discovered the munificent present of poor John Barry; for, not being +able to read, she had carefully laid up the treasured book, unconscious +of the generosity and self-denial of the donor. + +At this time Margaret appears to have suffered much privation. She felt +that she was dependent upon the kindness of richer friends for those +little delicacies which she required to support her mother's sinking +frame; and never was heart more sensitively grateful than this poor +girl's when she received some unexpected trifle of bounty from the table +of her indulgent mistress. She wept with joy as she bore the present +home to her affectionate but fast-sinking parent. + +She had not very long to continue her nursings. Early in the year she +lost her mother. Nature could not be suspended; and she sank to rest, +with her head supported by the arms of an affectionate daughter and a +good husband. + +The death of her mother was felt by Margaret very keenly. It reminded +her of her own early affliction; and a singular occurrence took place at +the funeral, which more forcibly reminded her of her sister's death. A +stranger entered the churchyard at the time of the ceremony, and stood +at the foot of the grave, and actually wept with the mourners. No one +knew who he was, or where he came from; nor did he speak to any one, but +he seemed to be much afflicted at the scene of sorrow. He remained some +time after the mourners had departed, and saw the grave filled up again; +and when the old clerk had neatly patted round the mound with his +spade, and was about to leave it, the stranger asked him if he did not +mean to turf it. + +"Why, I don't know; I don't think they can afford to have it done +properly; but, at all events, I must let the earth settle a bit first." + +"How long will it take to do that?" + +"That depends upon the weather. Come rain, and that will soon settle; +but if frost, and dry weather continue, it will be some time first. They +cannot afford to have it flagged and binded." + +"What will that cost?" + +"I charge one shilling and sixpence extra for that, as I have to get the +turf from the heath; but I shall have some time to wait before I am paid +for what I have done. Time was when that family was well off; but no +good comes of bad doings." + +"What do you mean, my man? what bad doings have these poor people been +guilty of?" + +"I see, sir, you are a stranger in these parts, or else the Catchpoles, +especially one of them, would be known to you by common report." + +"Which one is that?" + +"Margaret, sir." + +"Well, what of her? has she been unfortunate?" + +"If she has it has been her own seeking, no one's else. She might have +done well, but she would not." + +"What might she have done? and what has she done?" + +"Why, sir, she might have married an industrious young man, who would +have done well by her; but she chose to encourage a vagabond smuggler, +who first set her up with high notions, and then ruined and left her to +poverty and shame." + +"You do not mean to say that the young woman is a depraved and abandoned +character?" + +"No, no; I mean she don't like any honester man, and so no one seems to +care anything about her." + +A tear stole down the stranger's cheeks; and, whoever he was, he seemed +to feel a little relief at this information. + +"Is the young woman living at home with her family?" + +"Yes; because nobody will hire her. She is laughed at by the females, +and the men don't care anything about her. If they could catch her +lover, and pocket a hundred pounds reward for his capture, they would +like the chance." + +"How are the family supported?" + +"Why, I suppose the father earns eight shillings a week, the youngest +son one-and-sixpence; but they must have been hard run this winter, and +it will take them some time to get up their back-rent and present +expenses." + +"What is the amount of their present expense?" + +"Why, I must get, if I can, sixteen shillings, somehow or another. I +dare say I shall have it; but it will take them some time to pay it. +There is ten shillings for the coffin (for I am carpenter, clerk, and +sexton), three shillings and sixpence digging the grave, one shilling +for tolling the bell, and one shilling and sixpence for the clergyman; +that will exactly make the sum." + +"You say it will take one shilling and sixpence extra for turfing and +binding: that will be seventeen shillings and sixpence. How much do you +think they owe at the shop?" + +"I know that it cost them three shillings and sixpence for flannel; but +I know it is not paid for yet." + +"There's a guinea; that will exactly pay you all, will it not?" and the +stranger pitched a guinea against the sexton's spade. + +What a wonderful thing is a golden guinea in the eye of a poor parish +clerk! how reverential it makes a man feel, especially when a stranger +pays it for a poor man! He might have got it; but he must have waited +the chance till after the next harvest. + +"That it will, sir--that it will. I'll call and pay the bill at the +shop. Are you coming to live in these parts?" + +"Not for long--not long!" sighed the stranger. + +"Why, you look very healthy, sir? You are not ill?" + +"No, no, my man; I do not mean to give you a chance of getting another +guinea by me, at least for the present. I only meant to say my stay in +this village would not be for long. But where do these poor people +live?" + +"Not in the same place they used to do in the days of their prosperity +and respectability. Their house now stands at the corner of the heath, +sir: shall I go with you and show it you?" + +"I can find it; there are not many cottages there. Do you go and pay the +bill at the shop; and then if you have a mind to bring the receipt, +instead of giving me the trouble to call at your house for it, you will +find me at the cottage of these poor people; and hear me, old man, do +not talk to any one about this matter. You may as well bring a receipt, +also, for your own work at the same time." + +"You are quite a man of business, I see, sir. I will not fail to be at +the cottage this very evening with a receipt in full." + +The old sexton placed the guinea carefully at the bottom of his pocket, +and, shouldering his spade and mattock, marched off towards the village +shop. The stranger walked round Nacton churchyard. He stood sometime +attentively reading the inscription upon Admiral Vernon's mausoleum; +and, taking another look at the humble, new-made grave of Margaret +Catchpole's mother, he took the highroad to the heath, and saw the +cottage, known by the name of the Shepherd's Cot, at the verge of that +wild waste. + +Meantime the following conversation was going on in that cottage:-- + +"I wonder," said Margaret to her father, as the old man sat by the +log-fire in the chimney-corner, "whether our brother Charles is alive or +dead?" + +"I can just remember him," said the boy; "he used to be very fond of me, +and said I should make a good soldier." + +"I have never heard of him," said the father, "since he went to Ipswich, +and enlisted in another name, at the Black Horse, in St. Mary Elms. I +understood that his regiment went off to India almost immediately after +he enlisted." + +"I wonder if he is alive?" + +"I cannot tell, my dear; the chances are very much against it. He was a +quick, intelligent, lively boy; and, when he was at work in the fields, +used often to say he should like to be a soldier. The old clerk taught +him to read and write, and used to say, 'If Charles had a chance he +would be scholar enough to succeed him as parish clerk.' He left us at +the commencement of our misfortunes; God grant he may meet us again in +happier days!" + +Poor Margaret sighed; for she too well remembered the origin of all +their sorrows not to feel for her dear parent. That sigh was answered by +a sudden knock at the door, which occasioned a start. The latch was +lifted up, and in walked the stranger who had attended the funeral. His +entrance gave a change to their conversation; and Margaret placed a +chair for him, in which he quietly sat down opposite to the old +labourer. Care had worn the countenance of the venerable man more than +years and work. The only mourning of an outward kind which met the eye, +was an old piece of crape round the equally old hat which hung upon a +peg in the wall. Nothing else could be afforded; but their countenances +betokened the state of their hearts. They were really melancholy. It is +not in the outward pageantry of a funeral that real sorrow is to be +seen; and the real grief of the Shepherd's Cottage surpassed all the +pageantry of the palace, and was viewed with calm and respectful silence +by the stranger. + +He was a tall, pale, thin young man, with a scar upon the side of his +face: he looked as if he had undergone much sickness or misfortune. He +was dressed in a plain suit of black, which hung rather loosely round +him. He asked Margaret if the youth beside her was her youngest brother, +and whether she had any other brothers living. She replied that it was, +to the best of her knowledge, her only brother living. He then made +inquiries concerning the illness of her late mother; and after various +other domestic matters, he looked very earnestly at Margaret, and in a +seemingly abstracted manner said, "Where is Will Laud?" It was as if an +electric shock had been given to all in the room; for all started at the +question, and even the stranger was greatly moved at his own question, +when he saw Margaret hide her face in her hands, weeping. + +"I did not mean to occasion you any grief. I only asked after a man whom +I once knew as a boy, and whom the old clerk informed me you could tell +me more about than any one else." + +"And do not you know more of him than we do, sir?" said the old man. + +"I know nothing of him, and have heard nothing of him since I was a +youth; my question was purely accidental. I am sorry to see your +daughter so afflicted by it. Has the man been unkind to her?" + +"No, sir! no!" said Margaret. "If you are here as a spy, sir, indeed we +know not where he is." + +"A spy!" said the stranger; and the stranger started and muttered +something to himself. Margaret herself now began to feel alarmed; for +the stranger seemed to be deep in thought; and, as the flame from the +log of wood cast its light upon his face, she thought he looked ghastly +pale. + +"A spy!" said the stranger; "what made you think me a spy?--and what +should I be a spy for?" + +"I did not mean to affront you, sir; but the question you asked +concerning one for whose apprehension a hundred pounds is offered, made +me think of it. Pray pardon me, sir." + +"I am sorry that he has done anything to occasion such an offer from the +Government. Has he murdered any one?" + +"No, sir; but Will is a wild young man, and he attempted to kill young +Barry of Levington, and wounded him so severely, that a reward was +offered for his apprehension." + +"Has Barry recovered?" + +"Yes, sir; and he is gone out of the country to Canada, or some more +distant land." + +"Then never mind if Laud be caught. Government will never pay a hundred +pounds for his conviction when the principal evidence cannot be +obtained. Never mind! never mind!--that will soon be forgotten." + +Such words of consolation had never been uttered in Peggy's ear before. +She began to feel very differently toward the stranger, as the tone of +his voice, and his manner, together with his words, became so soothing. + +"Thank you, sir, for your good wishes; you make my heart joyful in the +midst of my mourning." + +"I only wish I could make it more joyful by telling you any good news of +your lover, Margaret; but though I know nothing of him, and only wish he +were more worthy of you than he is, yet I bear you tidings of some one +else of whom you will all be glad to hear." + +"Our brother Charles!" both she and the boy at once exclaimed, whilst +the old man remained in mute astonishment. + +"It is of your brother Charles; and first, let me tell you that he is +alive and well." + +"Thank God for that!" said the father. + +"Next, that he is in England, and it will not be long before you will +have the pleasure of seeing him." + +At this moment the door opened, and in walked the old clerk, who, seeing +the stranger, made his bow, and gave him a piece of paper containing a +receipt for the guinea which he had received. To the surprise of all, +the stranger rose, and taking a little red box made in the shape of a +barrel, which stood on the wooden shelf over the fire-place, he +unscrewed it, and put the paper in it; and, replacing it, seated himself +again. + +"You were just telling us of our brother Charles," said Margaret. + +"What!" exclaimed the sexton, "is Charles alive? My old scholar! Where +is the boy? I have often thought of him. Oh! what a pity he took to +drinking! He was as good a reader as our clergyman, and beat me out and +out." + +"He is not addicted to drink now, and is as sober as a man can be." + +"I am glad of that. Then he will succeed in anything he undertakes. But +where has he been these many years?" + +"You shall hear if you will sit down; for, as I knew him well, and was +his most intimate friend, he made me his confidant in everything. He was +always of a restless spirit; and when he left his father and friends, he +had no settled plan in his mind. He enlisted in the 33rd regiment of +Foot, which was then going out to India; and that his relatives and +friends might not grieve about him, he gave his name to the parochial +authorities of St. Mary Elms, at Ipswich, as Jacob Dedham, the name of a +boy who, he knew, was not alive. The parish-officer gave him a shilling, +and he took another shilling of the recruiting-officer. + +"He was sworn in, and took his departure with many others for +Portsmouth, at which place he embarked for India, and joined the 33rd +regiment at Bombay. He was always of an aspiring and inquisitive turn of +mind. He became an active and orderly soldier, and assisted the +sergeant-major in all his writings and accounts. He soon became an adept +in all the cunning and customs of the various castes of natives in +India; was remarkable for the quickness with which he mastered the +different idioms of the different territories of the East; and at length +became so noticed by Sir William Forbes, that he introduced him to Lord +Cornwallis, who employed him upon the frontier of Persia. + +"Here he became a spy, and was actively engaged for that highly +honourable and intelligent Governor-General. He readily entered into his +lordship's views; and, receiving from him a purse well stored, to +provide himself with disguises, he assumed the garb of a Moorish +priest, and with wonderful tact made himself master of all the +requisites of his office. I have here a sketch of him, in the very dress +in which he travelled through the country." + +Taking out a roll from his coat-pocket, he unfolded the canvas wrapper +in which it was enclosed, and presented it to Margaret, asking her if +she recognized her brother. + +With eager and interested glance she looked at the sketch, but not a +feature could she challenge. She then looked up at the stranger, and, as +she did so, said-- + +"It is much more like you, sir, than it is like my brother." + +"I think it is full as like me as it is like him. But, such as it is, +you have it; for he commissioned me to give it to you, together with a +sketch of a fortress in which he resided a long time as the priest of +the family. This is Tabgur, on the frontiers of Persia. His master and +family are walking on the rampart-garden of the fort." + +Here the old clerk could not help bursting out with an exclamation of +astonishment at the wonderful talent of his former pupil. + +"I always said he would be a wonderful man, did I not, Master +Catchpole,--did I not? Did he teach himself this art, sir?" + +"Indeed he did; and many others he learned, which did him equal credit. +He was a very quiet man in appearance, though he was alive to everything +around him. Many were the hairbreadth escapes he had; but his +self-possession carried him through all. He had to conceal all his +drawings of the different fortresses, all his calculations of the +inhabitants, of their forces, and their condition; but he contrived to +wrap them about his person, so that they could not be discovered. + +"Once, indeed, one of his papers, written as close as pencil could +write, was picked up in the fort-garden at Tabgur, and he was suspected +for a spy; but he quickly changed their suspicions; for, observing that +his master had a bad toothache, he told him it was a charm to prevent +it. Every person, he said, for whom he wrote that charm, would be free +from the toothache as long as he kept it secreted in his turban; but it +must be one expressly written for the purpose, and for the person; and +that, during the time of its being written, the person must have a piece +of rock-salt upon that very tooth which was aching at the time. The +charm was only of use for the person for whom it was written; and, as +that one was written for himself, it could do the Persian warrior no +good. This answered well; for he got back his valuable paper, and wrote +one immediately, in the presence of his master, who, placing a piece of +rock-salt upon the tooth, found that, as he wrote, the pain was +diminished; and when he concluded, it was completely gone. + +"But the next day, your brother, the Moorish priest, was gone also. He +passed over into Hindostan, changed his Moorish dress, and soon made his +way to head-quarters, where he delivered such an accurate account of all +that befell him, and of all that was required of him, that he received a +most ample reward. He called himself Caulins Jaun, the Moorish priest. + +"He has been sent to England by Lord Cornwallis, to deliver some +despatches to the government, relating to the Mysore territory and +Tippoo Saib's conduct; and, having accomplished his mission, he has +asked permission to visit his poor friends at Nacton, in Suffolk. His +leave is very short, as his services are again required." + +"And when may we expect him here?" exclaimed Margaret. "Oh, how I long +to see him!" + +"I expect him here this night; for, as I was his companion, and am to go +back again with him, so I am his forerunner upon this occasion." + +"I could almost set the village-bells ringing for joy," said the old +clerk. "I wonder whether he would know me." + +"That I am sure he would." + +"Pray, sir, how do you know that?" + +"Because the description he gave me of you is so accurate that I could +tell you from a thousand. Do you remember the sketch he made of an old +woman throwing a cat at her husband?" + +"That I do. Did he tell you of that?" + +"That he did; and of the scratch he got from the cat's claws, as you +bopped your head, and puss lit directly on his face." + +Here the old man could not help laughing. + +"But did he tell you nothing else about the sketch?" + +"That he did, and with such feeling, that I almost fancy I see now the +scrub-brush belabouring his head for his pains." + +"Oh, dear! oh, dear! I thought he had forgotten all that." + +"No; he thought of it at the very time he was sketching the forts of his +enemies' country. Had he been caught in such freaks as those, he would +have had a severer punishment than what your good dame gave him." + +"But if my old dame could see him now, how rejoiced she would be; for +notwithstanding his roguery, he was a great favourite of hers!" + +"She will see him to-morrow." + +"That will be news for the old woman. But shall I see him this night? I +would not mind waiting till midnight for such a purpose." + +"That you may. But I do not think that even you would know him, were you +to see him." + +"Why not? Would he know me?" + +"He would: but youth alters more in countenance than age, especially +where a foreign climate has acted upon the constitution." + +"I should know him from two things," said Margaret. "He once so nearly +cut off the end of his little finger with a sharp tool, that it hung +only by a piece of skin: it was bound up, so that it adhered and grew +together; but somehow, the tip got a twist, so that the nail of the +finger grew under the hand: it was the left hand." + +"And what was the other mark?" + +"It was a deep scar on the back of the same hand, caused by imprudently +cutting off a large wart." + +"Now tell me," said the stranger, drawing the glove off his left hand, +"were the scars you mention anything like those?" + +"Exactly," said the clerk, who looked at him again and again with +amazement. + +"Why, you can't be he? Are you Master Charles?" + +"Can you doubt it?" + +"The hand is his." + +"And the hand is mine. Therefore the hand is the hand of Charles." + +The old man rose, and coming forward said, "I do believe you are my son; +I have been thinking so for some time, and I am now satisfied that it is +so. God bless you, my boy! You are come at a seasonable hour, for the +Lord gives and takes away as He sees best." + +A hearty embrace and affectionate recognition took place. The stranger +(now no longer such) soon convinced them of his identity; and though no +one could really have known a single feature of his countenance, yet he +gave them such internal and external evidences of his relationship, +calling to mind so many circumstances of such deep interest to them all, +that he was soon acknowledged to be their relative. + +Happiness comes unexpectedly in the days of mourning. The wild recruit +had returned, after many days, to cheer an aged parent and a forlorn +sister, who needed the hand of some one to help them in their troubles. +The old man's heart revived again; and it was a pleasure to witness the +joys of the few days which then visited the Catchpoles, and the +congratulations which they received from the old clerk and his wife upon +the bright prospects of a hopeful son. Reports spread like wildfire that +Charles Catchpole had come home, and that he had returned from India as +rich as a Nabob. Reports are generally exaggerated, and they were not a +little so in the present case; for although Charles might be +comparatively rich, his fortune, as the world terms it, was anything but +made. He had a few guineas to spare; but he had to return to India, and +to pursue a very hazardous course of life, before he could even hope to +gain that independence which had been promised to him. A few guineas, +however, made a great show in a cottage. He paid his father's debts; +made a present to the old clerk's wife; bought his sister a new gown; +his younger brother, Edward, a new suit of clothes; paid one year's rent +in advance for the cottage; left a present with the sexton to keep his +mother's grave ever green; and announced his departure to his family +after staying one short week after five years' absence. + +"I shall see you no more, Charles!" exclaimed Margaret, at parting. "I +fear that I shall see you no more! You are going through a dangerous +country, and the perils you have already escaped you must not always +expect to avoid." + +"Fear not, Peggy, fear not. God sent me in a proper season to comfort +you, and if you trust in Him, He will send you some other friend in +need, if it be not such a one as myself." + +"Oh, let me go with you, dear brother! I should like to accompany you," +said Edward, his brother. + +"That cannot be, Edward. You must remain at home to help your father and +sister; you are not able to undertake a march of many thousand miles, +under a sun burning your face, and a sand scorching your feet. I have a +good friend, however, in Lord Cornwallis, and I have no doubt that some +time hence I shall be enabled to do you some service. I do not recommend +you to be a soldier; but if you wish it, when I see his lordship I will +ask him to help you. You shall hear from me in the course of a year or +so; in the meantime make all the progress you can in reading and writing +with the old clerk, and be industrious. I must be in London to-morrow, +and shall soon sail for India. I shall never forget any of you." + +"God bless you all!--good-bye," were the parting words of Charles +Catchpole. There is in that short sentence, "Good-bye," a melancholy +sense of departure which the full heart cannot express. + +"Good-bye!--good-bye!" and Margaret gave vent to her grief in tears, +whilst the old man clasped his hands in silent prayer. + +The fond brother and affectionate son is gone; and never did Margaret +see that brother again. She was shortly to change her place of abode. +Her uncle Leader, who lived at Brandiston, and who had a young family, +and was left a widower, sought the assistance of his niece; and though +her father could but ill spare her, yet as there were so many children, +and Margaret was so good a nurse, he could not refuse his consent. There +was another feeling, too, which prompted the good old man to spare her. +Though he loved his daughter's company, he knew that she deserved to be +thought better of by many who disregarded her in her own neighbourhood, +and he thought a change would be good for her. It might produce in her a +change of mind towards Will Laud--a thing he most earnestly wished for, +though he would not grieve her by saying so. It would at all events +remove her from many little persecutions which, though she professed not +to feel them, he knew weighed heavily on her spirits; and come what +might, even should Laud return, he was not known there, and he might be +a happier man. Under all these circumstances, he not only gave his +consent, but urged her going. She left her father's roof on the Monday +with her uncle. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +POVERTY AND PRIDE + + +On the evening of the very day on which Margaret quitted her father's +roof for that of her uncle, as the old man was sitting pensively at his +cottage fire, a knock at the door announced a visitor. The door opened, +and in walked Will Laud, together with his friend, John Luff. + +"Good-evening, father," said Will. "We are come now from the shore. Our +boat is once more moored to the rails at the landing-place, by Orwell +Park, and we are come across the lands to see you. We had some +difficulty in finding out your berth. You have changed your place of +abode." + +"Say that you have changed it for us, and you will be nearer the mark. +For ever since we knew you and your companion, we have known nothing but +changes, and few of them for the better." + +"Things cannot always change for the worse, surely." + +"I wonder you are not afraid to be seen in this part of the country. +There are many here, Will, that would be glad of a hundred pounds, the +price set upon your head." + +"And yourself foremost of that number, I dare say," said the gruff +smuggler who accompanied Will Laud. + +The old man looked at him with a placid but firm countenance, and said, +"That is the language of a villain! Do you think I am so fond of money +as yourself; or that I would sell my daughter's lover for a hundred +pounds? The door you have just opened is not yet closed, and if such be +your opinion, the sooner you take your departure hence the better." + +"Humph! humph!" said Luff. "You need not be so crusty, Mr. +Catchpole--you need not be so boisterous. We have not seen the inside of +a house for many a long month, and if this be the first welcome we are +to have, it is rather ominous." + +"What welcome do those men deserve who cause the ruin of others?" + +"We have not intentionally caused your ruin, father," said Laud; "but we +come in peace; we wish to abide in peace, and to depart in peace." + +"Then you should teach your friend to keep his foul tongue still, or it +will cause you more trouble than you are aware of." + +"I miss the principal ornament of your house, Master Catchpole," said +Will. "Where are all the females gone?" + +"Some are gone where I hope soon to join them; the one you feel most +interest about is gone to service." + +"I was told, not an hour ago, that Margaret lived at home with you." + +At this instant the door was opened, and young Edward Catchpole entered. +He had been to put his sheep safe into fold, and came whistling home, +with little thought of seeing any strangers in his father's cottage. + +"Boy, do you know me?" was the inquiry made by Will Laud. + +"Not yet," said the younger; "but I can give a shrewd guess; and I can +tell you something which will soon prove whether I guess right or not. +As I came over the heath, I met two sailors, who appeared to me to +belong to the preventive service. They were on horseback. They stopped +and asked me if I had seen a cart, and whether it was going fast, and +which road it took; whether it went across the heath, or along the road. +I told them plainly it was before them, and that it had turned down the +road towards the decoy-ponds. They then asked me if I had met two +sailor-looking men walking. To this, of course, I said No. But I suspect +they must have meant you." + +"How could that be?" said Laud. "We came not along the road." + +"No; but you might have seen some one who was going to Nacton Street, +and they might have been inquired of." + +"That's true, indeed. We had to ask where your father lived, and our +curiosity concerning your family has led to this pursuit of us." + +"One of the men I think I have seen before, and, if I mistake not, it is +the same Edward Barry that my sister and I went to see at Bawdsey +boat-house." + +"Your sister went to see Edward Barry! What on earth for, my lad?" + +"Nay, don't be jealous, Laud. There was a report that you were drowned, +and that your body was cast on shore. The bearer of that report was your +rival, John Barry. Margaret would not believe that report, unless she +should see your body. So I drove her there, and Edward Barry, who had +the key of the boat-house, permitted her to see the bodies, which +satisfied her that the report was unfounded." + +The two men looked significantly at each other, as much as to say, "It +is time for us to be off." + +"I have one question more to ask," said Laud. "Where is Margaret?" + +"She is gone to service at her Uncle Leader's, of Brandiston. It is no +great place for her, but she will be out of the way of reproaches she +has suffered, Laud, on your account. Moreover, she has refused the hand +of a most respectable young man, whom I should have been glad that she +would have accepted. But he is gone to a distant land, and neither you +nor I, Will, shall see him again. John Barry has sailed, as a free +settler, either to Van Diemen's Land, or to Canada, I know not which." + +These words were most welcome to the listener's heart. He had not heard +any which sounded so joyful to him for a long time. He made no reply, +however, but tendered a purse to the old man. + +"No; keep your money to yourself, Laud, and make an honest use of it. I +would not touch it, if I was starving. But you may rest here if you +please, and such cheer as my poor cot can afford you shall be welcome +to, for my dear daughter's sake!" + +"No, no, I thank you. We must be on board our ship again to-night. Our +bark is in the river, and if the enemy catch us, he will show us no +quarter. So good-night, father, good-night!" + +"I do not wish to detain you, but hear me, Laud. If you have a mind to +make my poor girl happy, leave off your present life, and this +acquaintance too, this man's company." + +"Come on!" said Luff, impatiently--"Come on! We've got no time to lose. +Our boat will be fast upon the mud. Good-night, old man, and when you +and I meet again, let us be a little more friendly to each other." + +It was well for both of them that they departed as they did; for, +shortly after they were gone, the tramp of horses along the road told of +the return of the coastguard. + +They stopped at Catchpole's cottage, and calling aloud, young Edward +went out to them. + +"Hold our horses, young man, will you? we want to light our pipes." + +"By all means," said Edward, coming to the little garden-gate. Both men +alighted, and he could see that they were well armed. They walked +directly to the door; and seeing the old man seated by the fire, one of +them said-- + +"We want to light our pipes, Master Catchpole. It is a blustering night. +Have you a tobacco-pipe, for I have broken mine rather short?" + +The old man took one from his corner and gave it to young Barry, whom, +from his likeness to his brother, he could distinguish, and simply said, +"You are welcome to it, sir." + +"Your son sent us on a wrong scent to-night." + +"I do not think he did so knowingly. I heard him say he met you; and he +told me he directed you aright." + +"We saw nothing of the cart. We have reason to believe that a rich +cargo of goods has been landed at Felixstowe, and that the last +cart-load went along this road to Ipswich. Have you had any of your old +seafaring friends here? Are there any here now? You know who I mean." + +"You may search and see for yourself. Every door of this house will open +at your trial. If that is sufficient answer to your question, you are +welcome to take it. Nay, I wish most heartily that you and your brother +had been my friends long before the one to whom you allude had ever +darkened my door." + +When the young man remembered his brother's attachment, and the really +worthy object of it, there was a grateful feeling which came over his +mind, notwithstanding the disappointment which his brother, himself, and +his family had experienced, which made him feel respect for the old man. + +"I thank you, Master Catchpole--I thank you. Had such been the case, you +might have had a good son, and I should not have lost a good brother; +and in my conscience I believe I should have gained a good sister. But +there is no accounting for a woman's taste. I tell you honestly, Master +Catchpole, that for your daughter's sake I wish her lover, or the man +she loves, were a worthier character." + +"I know that both she and I wish it so--she with hope--I, alas! confess +that I have no hope of that. As long as he lives he will never alter, +except for the worse." + +"I wish it may be otherwise. But come, my mate, it is no use our waiting +here, we must go on to Felixstowe. If at any time, Master Catchpole, I +can be of service to you, you have nothing to do but to send a messenger +to Bawdsey Ferry, and the brother of him who is now far away will do +what he can to help you. Good-night, Master Catchpole!" + +They returned to their horses, mounted them again, and telling Ned that +he might drink their healths whenever he pleased, gave him sixpence, and +rode off. + +"Father," said Edward, when he was again seated by the fire, "I do +not--I cannot like that fellow Laud; and how Margaret can endure him is +to me strange." + +"She knew him, my boy, before he became the character he now is." + +"I am sorry to lose my sister; but she will at least be better off where +she is, and far away from reproaches. We must make out without her aid +as well as we can. Our old sexton's sister has promised to come and do +for us; so we shall have some help." + +So father and son consoled themselves; and after their frugal meal +returned to their straw-stuffed beds; and slept upon their cares. + +Meantime it was no small task that Margaret had undertaken. She was to +be as a mother to seven young children, and to keep her uncle's house in +order, and to provide everything to the best of her power. But her +spirit was equal to the undertaking; and the new life which came to her +through change of place and people soon animated her to those exertions +necessary to her position--a situation so difficult and arduous. + +Place a woman in a domestic station, where the power of a mistress and +the work of a servant are to be performed, and see if she cannot show +what a quantity of work may be done with one pair of hands. A good head, +and a kind heart, and a willing hand, are virtues which, as long as +industry and honesty are praiseworthy, will be sure to succeed. + +Her uncle was but a labourer, earning twelve shillings a week at the +utmost, and that by working over-hours. At that time of day such wages +were considered very large; and where the housewife was active with her +loom, or the aged with her spinning-wheel, labourers used sometimes to +lay by something considerable, and not unfrequently rose to be +themselves masters. The wages which Mr. Leader earned were sufficient, +in the hands of this active girl, to provide every necessary for the +week, and to lay by something for rent. + +She soon made the eldest girl a good nurse; and gave her such a method +of management as saved herself much trouble. In the first place, she +began her rule with a most valuable maxim of her own inculcation: "A +place for everything, and everything in its place." Another of her +maxims was: "Clean everything when done with, and put it up properly and +promptly." Also, "Whenever you see anything wrong, put it right." +"Everything that is broken should be either mended or thrown away." She +would not admit of waste in anything. Among her good old saws was also: + + Early to bed, and early to rise, + Makes a man healthy, and wealthy, and wise. + +She would never suffer a bill to stand beyond the week at any shop. The +Saturday night, at nine o'clock, saw her and her uncle's family out of +debt, and the children all clean washed, with their white linen laid out +for the Sabbath-day. And to see, on that holy day, with what quiet, +hushed little feet they entered, four of them at least, the village +church of Brandiston, with their foster-mother, was a sight which caught +the attention of every well-disposed person in the parish. Master +Leader's luck in a housekeeper was soon spoken of; and many a parent +pointed out Margaret as a good chance for a poor man. + +Up to this time Margaret could not read a single word: but she was very +glad when the vicar's lady undertook to send two of the children to the +village-school. She encouraged them to learn their daily tasks, and made +them teach her in the evening what they had learned at the school in the +day; and in this manner she acquired her first knowledge of letters. The +children took such pleasure in teaching her, that they always paid the +greatest attention to their lessons. + +Margaret was now comparatively happy in the performance of her duties; +and felt relieved from the restraint and reproach which at Nacton, where +her father lived, had been attached to her character, on account of +William Laud. How long she might have continued in this enviable state +of things it would be difficult to surmise; but she seemed fated to +encounter untoward circumstances over which she could exercise no +control. She conducted herself with the greatest propriety. The children +loved her as they would a kind parent; and all who knew her in the +village of Brandiston esteemed her for her able conduct of her uncle's +family. Had that uncle himself been a wise man, he would never have +given occasion for Margaret to leave him: but no man is wise at all +hours; and Mr. Leader, though a very honest, good labourer, and a steady +man in his way, in an hour of too little thought, perhaps, or of too +superficial promise of happiness, chose to take unto himself a new wife; +a fat buxom widow of forty, owner of two cottages, and two pieces of +land in Brandiston Street, and a little ready money besides, with only +one little daughter, engaged his attention. He, poor simple man, +thinking he might better his condition, save his rent, and add to his +domestic comfort, consented, or rather entreated, that the banns might +be published for his second marriage. + +Had the woman herself been a wise one, she would have seen how requisite +Margaret's care was to the family. But she became mistress, and must +command every one in the house--her house too! and she was not to be +interfered with by any one. She would not be dictated to in her own +house. No! though her husband had a niece who might have been all very +well, yet he had now a wife, and a wife ought to be a man's first +consideration--a wife with a house over her head, her own property. + +Men may have notions of the greatness of their possessions; but a weak +woman, when once she has an all-absorbing and over-weening idea of her +own great wealth, becomes so infatuated with the possession of power +which that property gives her, that there are scarcely any bounds to her +folly. Money may make some men, perhaps many, tyrants; but when a woman +exercises the power of money alone, she becomes the far greater tyrant. +Her fondness for wealth makes her more cruel and unnatural in her +conduct; she forgets her sex--her nature--her children--her +friends--her dependents--and, alas! her God! + +And soon did the new Mrs. Leader make a chaos of that family which had +recently been all order and regularity. The management of household +affairs was taken out of Margaret's hands. Bills were left to be paid +when the new mistress received the rents of her cottages and land. The +children were foolishly indulged; turned out to play in the street; +taught to disregard Margaret, and to look upon her as a servant; her +daughter was never to be contradicted; in short, every one in the house +was to bend to the will of its new mistress. + +Such a change had taken place in the comforts and conduct of the house, +that Margaret, with all her care could manage nothing. She was thwarted +in all she did--eyed with jealousy on account of the praise bestowed +upon her--taught continually to remember and know herself and her +station--and to behave with more respect to her betters, or else to quit +the house. + +Margaret had a sweet temper, and really loved her uncle and the +children, or she could not have endured so long as she did the +waywardness of this purse-proud woman. + +Matters had been going on in no very pleasant manner in Mr. Leader's +cottage, and Margaret had found herself in a very uncomfortable +situation. She had been quite removed from her honourable station, as +governess of the family, and had been treated as a very unworthy menial +by her ignorant aunt. + +While things were in this state, it so happened, that one evening in the +month of April, Margaret was sent from her aunt's cottage to the village +shop to purchase some article that was wanted for the morrow. It was +late when she went out, and the shop stood completely at the end of the +village. It was one of those general shops, half a good dwelling-house, +and half a shop, where the respected tenant carried on a considerable +business without much outward show. + +A lane branched off from the main street leading down to the vicarage, +called the Church Road. It was, properly speaking, the Woodbridge Road +from Brandiston. At the moment Margaret was passing over this crossway +towards the shop, she was accosted by the familiar voice of one asking +where Mr. William Leader lived. Margaret replied:-- + +"I am now come from Mr. Leader's. He is my uncle. Do you want to see +him?" + +"No, Margaret, it is yourself I am in search of. Do you not know my +voice?" + +It was William Laud! + +The reader must conceive the joy, the astonishment, the surprise, the +fear, or all these sensations combined in one, which Margaret, the +persecuted Margaret, felt in being thus accosted by her lover. Did it +require any great persuasion to induce her to turn aside at such a +moment, and walk a little way down the Church Road, past the Old Hall, +with one she had not seen or heard of for so long a time; one whom, with +a woman's faithfulness, she still loved with all the strength of her +mind and heart? + +"I have been very ill, Margaret," said Laud, "since I came ashore and +saw your father and brother. It was the very evening of the day you left +home. Had you left one day later, I should have seen you, and, perhaps, +I might have been spared a fever which has reduced me to the verge of +the grave." + +"It is so long since I have seen or heard of you, William, that I began +to think you had forgotten me." + +"I have never forgotten you, Margaret, and I never shall, till I cease +to remember anything. In storm and tempest, in calm and sunshine; in the +midnight watch, or under the clear blue sky; in danger or in safety, in +health or in sickness; in the hour of boisterous mirth, or in the rough +hammock of the seaman, when the dash of waves and the whistling winds +have swept by me, Margaret, I have always thought of you; but never more +than in those moments of fever and anxiety, when I have been suffering +from the extremes of pain and sickness. Then, Margaret, I remembered +your soothing kindness; and then I bitterly felt your absence. But have +you forgotten and forgiven my rough conduct, when we last met, a long +time ago? I am alone now, and but a poor creature." + +"I have not forgotten, William, because I cannot forget; but I have +always forgiven you. Much, much have I suffered on your account; shame, +reproach, and poverty, have visited me through you--loss of kindred, +friends, and companions; but God has enabled me to bear all, with the +hope that I should one day see you an altered man." + +"Yes, Margaret, yes; and so you shall. I am altered much--I long to +leave my present line of life and to settle in some place where I never +was known. Captain Bargood has given me his word, that, after one more +voyage, I shall be released, with prize-money sufficient to settle +anywhere I please, and to give me a free passage to that place, be it +where it may." + +"I can only say, William, I wish that one voyage was over. I hate your +companions and your employment. I fear to lose you again, William. Oh, +why not get some honest work on land, and let me toil for and with you?" + +"Margaret, I am here upon my word of honour to the captain, that I would +go one more run for him. I have been a long trip this last time, across +the Atlantic, and I am promised a different tack the next time. But it +will soon be over, and then I will renounce them all. The captain has +nursed me in his own house, and though a rough fellow and a poor +comforter for a sick man, yet I believe he did his best, and I am bound +to be grateful to him." + +"I wish your duty taught you, Will, some better obligation. My heart +misgives me for you; and I can never sanction a day in unlawful +pursuits. I grieve for you. But time steals away, William, and I have +forgotten my own duty. I have not a very kind mistress in my new aunt; +but my duty is obedience. I have to go to shop now, and I fear it will +be closed if I delay any longer. When shall I see you again, William?" + +"I fear me, not until this last voyage is over. I hope that will be a +short one. I shall just go into the King's Head, refresh myself, and +start again for the coast by daylight." + +"Well, William, you have my prayers and my love, and I hope you may one +day claim my duty. At present, that duty is due to my uncle. So we must +part!--Take care of yourself.--How did you catch that fever?" + +"By over-exertion in returning to my boat by Orwell Park, the night I +left your father. We struck across the country, as we heard of our +pursuers, and came to the shore greatly heated with our run. The wind +was fair for us, and I had nothing else to do but to sit still. I +covered myself with a piece of damp sail and fell asleep, and when I +awoke I found myself as stiff as a mast--I could not move a limb. But I +will take care of myself for your sake, Margaret, for the future." + +By this time they had just arrived at the vicarage palings, upon their +return, where the angle of the street branched off, and for a moment +they paused to take the farewell salute which faithful lovers ever +appreciate. + +They little thought who was near to hear their last parting words, and +to witness that love which they thought no one but themselves beheld. +The farewell was spoken, and Laud departed. Margaret stood a moment, +with affectionate heart and tearful eye, to watch his receding form, and +then, turning round the corner to go to the shop, she encountered the +enraged Mrs. Leader. She could only walk on in passive silence through +the village, whilst her aunt's voice, rising higher and higher as she +approached her own domicile, made the neighbours peep out of their +windows to learn the cause of such a disturbance. At last they arrived +at home, and Mr. Leader, with a thousand exaggerations, was informed of +his niece's atrocious conduct. + +She eyed the poor girl with such malignant satisfaction, as if she had +already seen her condemned, by judge, jury, counsel, and all the court. +Poor Margaret! she had not attempted to speak; she felt for her +uncle--she felt for his children--she felt for her lover; but for +herself, nothing. She knew her own heart, and felt keenly the cruelty +and injustice of her aunt's spiteful accusations; but that did not wound +her so much as to see the crestfallen distress of the master of that +cottage, who, but a short time before, never addressed her but in thanks +or praise. + +Margaret sighed, looked at her uncle, and briefly explained her +accidental meeting with William Laud. + +This only caused Mrs. Leader to break out into a fresh passion. She +abused her husband, abused Margaret, her lover, her father, her brother, +and every one connected with her. The base reflections she heard cast +upon her family roused the poor girl's indignation, and, after telling +the enraged woman a few home truths, expressed her determination to quit +the house. + +"I shall leave you now--yes, before another hour is gone. I shall only +kiss the children, pack up my little bundle, and then I take my +departure. Uncle, I have done my duty by you, and I sincerely wish you +happy. I have had nothing of you, and have nothing to leave behind me, +but my humble blessing for yourself and your children. Give me your +hand, uncle; let _us_, at all events, part good friends. You know that I +do not mind the night. A journey to me at this time, under these +circumstances, is no more than a journey would be by day. As to you, +aunt Leader, whether you shake hands with me or not must rest with your +own self. I would not part even with you in malice. Good-bye, aunt +Leader. Good-night!" + +Mrs. Leader had heard enough; she had met with a spirit which, when +roused, was equal to her own; and though she looked as if she could have +dashed the poker at the poor girl before her, she dared not stir an +inch: the fury fell back from her seat, and went off in a fit. + +Margaret stayed that night, but not another day. The next morning she +set her uncle's breakfast out, saw the children dressed, and sent to the +school, and then went upstairs to pack up her own bundle. Before doing +so, however, the Bible, which had been given her by John Barry, +attracted her attention. It was a small clasped book, and, from being +unable to read it, she had never made any outward parade of her +possession of it. On now seeing it, she mechanically unclasped the book, +and in the first page there lay a £5 bank-note, and in the last page +another of the same value. What a treasure was here! How did her heart +bless the noble generosity of the youth who, at a time when money was of +the greatest value to him, thus sacrificed a great share of his riches +to the welfare of one who could never personally thank him for it! + +Margaret had made up her mind, however, to seek a situation for herself +in Ipswich. She remembered the kindness of the worthy surgeon who had +attended her sister in her childhood, and poor John Barry when he was +wounded, and she resolved to seek his aid. With a full heart, she +carefully replaced the notes as she found them, resolving to store them +up against a time of need. And, with more consciousness of independence +than she had ever before felt, she packed up her little bundle, and went +to take leave of her uncle and aunt. + +With five shillings, the gift of her uncle, a half-guinea, the gift of +her brother Charles, and a bundle, not a very weighty one, Margaret +Catchpole departed from Brandiston. But, fearing her aunt's displeasure, +and that she would send strange reports to Nacton, and that her own +presence under her father's roof would give some countenance to these +malicious falsehoods, she determined not to return home, but to take the +road to Woodbridge. + +At that time, Noller's wagon, from Ipswich to Woodbridge, Wickham +Market, and Framlingham, passed her upon its return; and the driver +asking her if she would like to ride, she gladly accepted the offer. +They arrived at Ipswich about two o'clock in the afternoon. Margaret +determined to seek a place immediately, and for that purpose brushed the +dust off her gown, and made herself as decent as her poor wardrobe would +allow, and arrived at the door of Mr. George Stebbing, under very +different circumstances from those which had formerly brought her to the +same spot. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A CHEERFUL CHANGE + + +He was a merry, cheerful man, the active surgeon, who lived in the tall, +red-bricked house, in Orwell Place. His practice was good, extending +from the best families in the town and neighbourhood of Ipswich, to that +which is always the most benevolent part of a surgeon's duty, the +dispensing medicine and advice to the poor. George Stebbing was an early +riser, and a very active practitioner; he was skilful and attentive; and +it was truly said of him, that he never neglected a poor patient to +attend a rich one. He had his rounds before breakfast, among his poorer +patients; next his town practice; and his country visits in the +afternoon. He generally contrived to be found at home from nine to ten +o'clock in the morning; and from two to three in the afternoon, always +dining at one. + +There was one passion, if it may be so called, which, at certain seasons +of the year, made the doctor break through all his rules and +regulations, and to which he so willingly gave way, as to cause him +serious loss of practice among family patients, who could not make +allowances for his neglect,--namely, a passion for shooting. He was an +excellent shot, delighted in the exercise, and enjoyed it as much in his +old days as he did in his youth. His figure scarcely ever altered +through life. He never grew corpulent, never inactive; but retained his +zest for his gun, with a steady hand, to a good old age. + +But for this passion for shooting, the doctor might have secured for +himself a more extensive and lucrative practice. It certainly was a kind +of passport among many great landed proprietors, who liked his shooting +and his society, and for a good day's shooting, come it when it might, +many of his patients were neglected. He was of a very generous nature, +and sometimes felt keenly the reproaches of those whom for the sports of +the field he deserted; and there were times in which his own conscious +neglect made him sorrowful; but it did not cure him of his favourite +propensity. At all other times, he was as regular as a well-cleaned +clock. + +Margaret arrived at this gentleman's door, and was shown into the +surgery just as he was preparing to go into the country. The surgery was +a lofty room, though of small dimensions; the window looked down a +neatly paved area, beside the offices of the house; and flower-stands, +filled with geraniums and other green-house plants, stood against the +side of the wall opposite the kitchen. All was neatness within and +without the walls of his house. + +She had scarcely been seated in the surgery a minute, before in came the +merry man, with his cheerful smile and ready address. "Well, young +woman, what's the matter with you, eh? What is it? A bad tooth? let us +see--let us see. It can be nothing else. You look the picture of health! +What's the matter?" + +"Nothing is the matter, sir," said Margaret, rising and curtsying. + +"Then what do you want with the doctor, my girl?" + +"I am come to ask you, sir, if you could help me to a place." + +"A place!" cried the doctor; "why, whom do you take me for? Did you +think my surgery was a register-office for servants? What have I to do +with places? Who on earth sent you to me?" + +"No one sent me, sir; I came of my own accord, because you are the only +person that I know in Ipswich." + +"Well, they say a great many more people know Tom Fool than Tom Fool +knows. I don't recollect ever seeing you before. I know not who you are +in the least." + +"What, sir! do you not remember when you lifted me off the pony at your +door, ever so many years ago, and called me a brave little girl, and +told me, when you left me at my father's, that if ever I wanted a friend +I should find one in you?" + +"What! are you the girl that made the pony go? Can you be Margaret +Catchpole, the heroine of Nacton Turf?" + +"I am Margaret, sir; I left my uncle's, at Brandiston, this morning, and +am come to Ipswich in search of a place. I have lost my sister, my +mother, and two brothers, and, knowing no one in Ipswich but you, I +thought, sir, as you promised to help me, you would not be offended at +my asking. I only want to work and live without being burdensome to any +one." + +"Well, and what place do you want, my girl?" + +"I can do any kind of plain work, sir, from the cow-house to the +nursery." + +"Nursery! nursery! do you know anything about the care of children?" + +"I am very partial to children, sir, and children are very fond of me; +my uncle had seven little ones, and only me to look after them until he +married again." + +"Humph!--Well, go into my kitchen, my girl"--and here the kind-hearted +man opened his door and introduced her to his cook. "Sally, this is the +girl that rode the pony for the doctor, see and take care of her. Where +is your young mistress?" But suddenly turning round as if a thought +struck him he said, "Margaret! Margaret! my girl, stop one moment, I +must know if you have quite recovered from that complaint you had +before you left the Priory Farm?" + +"Dear me, sir, I never was ill there." + +"Oh! yes, you were, Margaret; if you remember, I had to feel your pulse +and prescribe for you; your heart was very bad?" + +"Oh! no, sir, I hope not." + +"Let me ask you one question, Margaret--Have you done with the smuggler? +Because, though I should be glad to serve _you_, I should be sorry to +run the risk of introducing bad acquaintances into any respectable +family where I might recommend you." + +This was another terrible blow for poor Margaret, and how to answer it +she knew not; she remained silent and abashed, and the worthy surgeon +was touched more by her silence than if she had spoken ever so much; it +told him at once the state of the case. + +"Well, well, my girl, I see how it is; but you must not encourage him to +visit you when you are at service. Go! go! I will talk to you another +time." + +And Margaret was again an inmate in that kind man's house, who always +was a steady and sincere friend to her throughout her eventful career. +He had at that very time made up his mind to write a note of +recommendation to a lady who lived at the Cliff, upon the banks of the +Orwell; but he delayed it for a day or two, on purpose to hear what +report his own domestic gave of her. And here Margaret remained in the +humblest and purest enjoyment of peace and quietness that she had felt +for many years. + +It was a lovely evening in the latter part of the month of May, when the +mackerel-boats were coming up the Orwell, being unable to reach the +mouth of the Nore, that old Colson (better known to the reader as +Robinson Crusoe) rowed his little boat up to the landing-place, close to +the Cliff Brewery, and startled some young children who were watching +the tiny eels playing about those large dark stones which formed the +head of the landing-place. Here a stream of fresh water, gushing from +beneath, formed the outlet of the canal stream which turned the great +wheel in the brewery of John Cobbold, Esq. + +The eels from the river, especially the young ones, used to be +incessantly playing about this outlet, striving either to get up into +the fresh water, or else feeding upon the animalculæ which came from the +canal, and tried to get back again out of the salt water. + +The old man lifted up some small sand-dabs for the children, all alive +and kicking, and gave them to them, with which they soon bounded up the +Cliff steps, and ran joyously to a lady, who, with two gentlemen, sat +sketching under the lime-trees which then fronted the small +dwelling-house adjoining the more lofty buildings of the brewery. + +The lady was Mrs. Cobbold, and the two gentlemen were her friends, and +both eminent artists in their day. One had already greatly distinguished +himself as a portrait-painter, and vied with Sir Joshua Reynolds in his +own particular school of painting: this was Gardiner, a distant relative +of the lady. He was a singular old gentleman, in every way a talented +original; his family groups, in half crayon, half water-colour, gained +general admiration; and to this day they stand the test of years, never +losing their peculiar freshness, and remain as spirited as on the first +day they were painted. The other was indeed but a boy, a fine +intelligent lad, with handsome, open countenance, beaming with all the +ardour of a young aspirant for fame: this was John Constable, who was +then sketching the town of Ipswich from the Cliff, and brushing in the +tints of the setting sun, and receiving those early praises from the +lips of that benevolent and talented lady which became a stimulus to his +exertions, before he was raised to the eminence of a first-rate +landscape-painter. + +Gardiner delighted in the buoyant group of children, who, with their +flapping fish, came bounding up the Cliff. "Look here! look here! see +what old Robin has given us." + +The artist's eyes dilated with glee as he quickly noted down their +jocund faces and merry antics for some future painting. If he had +experienced pleasure in the character of James, Thomas, George, +Elizabeth Ann, and Mary, what a fine master-figure was now added to the +group in the person of old Robin, the fisherman, who, with his basket of +mackerel and soles, stood behind the children in front of the happy +party! + +Gardiner's picture of the "Fisherman's Family" was taken from this +group, and it was one which in his mature years gained him much +celebrity. + +"Well, Robin, what fish have you got?" said the lady, "and how do the +witches treat you?" + +"As to the first, madam, here are mackerel and soles; as to the latter, +they treat me scurvily!" + +"What's that? what's that?" said Gardiner; "what's all that about the +witches?" + +Old Colson looked at him a minute, and partly believed he was a brother +sufferer; for Gardiner never was what the world has since denominated a +dandy, he was never even a beau; he was careless in his dress, and very +abrupt in his address,--extremely clever and extremely eccentric. + +"Why, this is it," said the old fisherman, "if the foul fiend treats you +as he does me, he makes us both such hideous objects that nobody can +bear to look at us." + +There was no little colour in the artist's face at this moment: he had +met with a light and shade, an odd mixture upon his palette not easily +defined, and he looked himself rather vacant upon the fisherman. + +"I see how it is," said Robin; "they have been at work upon you, and +have put your robes out of order; but give them a blast of this ram's +horn, and you will soon get rid of them." + +Here the old man presented a ram's horn to the astonished artist. + +"What does the man mean, Mrs. Cobbold? what does the man mean?" + +This was rather a delicate point to answer; but the little shrewd Mary, +who perfectly well knew what the old man meant, said at once with the +most perfect innocence-- + +"Oh, Mr. Gardiner! Robin means that you look so dirty and shabby that +you must be bewitched." + +At this moment a servant brought a note to the lady, which, on opening, +she read as follows:-- + + "MY DEAR MADAM, + + "You mentioned to me some time since that you wanted a good strong + girl who could assist in the double capacity of a laundress and a + nursery-maid; the bearer of this is Margaret Catchpole, whom I have + known from her infancy. My cook tells me she is very quick at + learning, and very handy at any work that may be required of her; + she also states herself to be very fond of children. She lived + servant-of-all-work at the Priory Farm, and has since kept her + uncle's house, where she has had the care of seven young children. + Mr. Notcutt, who knew her when she lived at service at Bealings, + speaks highly of her character. I think you will find her a very + useful servant; and if you have not engaged one, I really think you + will be satisfied with this young woman. Wishing that such may be + the case, believe me to remain, my dear madam, yours faithfully, + + "GEORGE STEBBING. + "Orwell Place, + "May 25th, 1793." + + +As Mrs. Cobbold opened the note, the artists retired; and she told the +footman to send the young woman round to the front of the house, and she +would speak to her there. She then kindly addressed the old fisherman:-- + +"I wish, Robin, I could find a charm which would drive all these fiends +away from you at once, that you might become a believer in a more +blessed agency than in such unhappy beings." + +"Ah! bless you, lady! bless you! If your wish could but be gratified, I +should soon be at liberty; but it will never be so: they have taken up +their abode with me, and as long as they can torment me, they will. I +knew last night that there would be a storm, and, sure enough, there was +one; but my old barque rode it out, though many a tighter craft went to +the bottom. My foes, though they love to punish my flesh, will not let +me perish." + +"That is but a vain hope, Robin, which will one day deceive you: you +trust too much in your crazy barque, and to a no less crazy imagination; +and, when too late, you will own your self-delusion." + +His benefactress could not succeed in arguing him out of his belief, and +had just told him to leave the fish at the back-door, as Margaret made +her appearance before her future mistress. + +She started back when she beheld Robin, and again thought that some evil +genius had determined to oppose her wherever she went. + +"Ah! is that you, Peggy? It's many a long day since I've seen you. Have +the fiends played you any more tricks?" + +Margaret made her curtsy to the lady, but dared not reply to the +salutation of the old fisherman, lest he should betray the secret of her +heart. She was evidently confused. + +"You need not be so proud either, young woman, as to forget a friend; +but you are like the rest of the world:--'Those whom we first serve are +the first to forget us.' Now, to my mind, you're a fit match for Will +Laud, and he's about as ungracious a chap as any I know." + +The tear started into Margaret's eye, and she could not utter a word. In +the accents of kindness, however, the lady addressed the trembling girl. + +"You must not mind all the wanderings of old Robin, you will be better +acquainted with him hereafter." + +"And so will you, ma'am, with her before long. The foul fiend has long +dwelt with her and hers, and you'll soon find that out. I've known her +almost as long as I've known you, ma'am; and if she's a-coming to your +service, why, all I can say is, there will be pretty pranks a-going on +in your house." + +Here the poor girl could refrain no longer from tears; she sobbed as if +her heart would break, and the scene more than commonly interested the +benevolent lady. + +"What has Robin known of you, young woman, that he should speak so +harshly against you? How have you offended him?" + +"I never offended him, ma'am--never that I know of! He was very kind to +me, and once, ma'am--once----" and here Margaret paused, and could not +finish her sentence. + +Robin now quickly saw he was mistaken, and going close up to the girl, +he said,-- + +"I ask your pardon, Peggy! I thought you were proud--I see how it is! I +see how it is!--Forgive me! forgive me, ma'am! She's a good girl; aye, +she's a clever girl! I thought she was a bit proud, so the fiend made me +bark at her, that's all;" and, making his bow, he went with his basket +of fish to the back-door. + +The lady evidently saw there was a mystery; but, well knowing the sudden +changes of the bewildered mind of the fisherman, although she always +found a shadow of truth about all his ravings, she placed no faith in +any of his prognostications. She did not again question Margaret upon +that subject, but spoke to her about her duties. She found her fully +sensible of what she might have to do, and quite ready to undertake the +place. She agreed to give her, progressively improving wages, and told +her that as Mr. Stebbing had given her a recommendation, she should try +her. Mrs. Cobbold desired her to come on the morrow, and wished her +good-evening. + +The next day saw Margaret an inmate of that family where her name will +never be forgotten; where she spent so many days of real, uninterrupted +happiness; where she became respected by her mistress and family, and +was a very great favourite with all her fellow-servants. Margaret came +to her new place with a good character; with youth, health, hope, and a +willing mind for work. By the advice of the doctor's old servant, she +came (by means of John Barry's generous gift) with every article clean, +new, and decent, and had the sum of six pounds left for a nest-egg. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE NEW PLACE + + +There is no class of persons in society so much neglected as domestic +servants, none who are placed in more responsible stations, to whom more +confidence is given, and from whom more is expected; yet there are none +who are less instructed, except in the duties of their stations, and +even these they have to learn as they can. The law visits no one with +severer penalties for any dereliction of duty; and the world makes fewer +allowances for their faults than for those of any other class. + +The excellent lady in whose service Margaret was placed was one who felt +this truth, and took every opportunity she could to improve the minds of +all who came under her roof. She was one of the most enlightened of her +sex, with a mind cultivated to the highest degree, and acquainted from +her infancy with many of the leading persons of the day, in art, +literature, and science. And she was not less domestic than enlightened. +The writer of these pages knew her well, and loved her dearly. He +admired her with deep and reverential love. He was not able, indeed, to +appreciate the full extent of her benevolent character till years had +snatched her away, and left him "never to look upon her like again." +This he can truly say, that, in the course of twenty years' +acquaintance, he never knew what it was to have a dull moment in her +company. Lest any may think this is saying too much, let some of those +who now occupy public stations of importance, and some of whom were her +domestic servants, say, how much they were indebted to her instructions. +Let some, even of a higher and more independent class, who have since +attained the pinnacle of their professions, tell how much they were +indebted to the first encouraging advice of her, who saw and prized +their talents, and rejoiced in their development. She was a most kind +benefactress to all who needed her advice or assistance, and to none was +she a greater friend, and by none was she more deeply loved, than by the +poor girl whom she took into her service, as a sort of general help in +the humblest station in her family. + +At the Cliff there was not a single individual in whom the mistress did +not feel a deep interest. None were beneath her notice; none came near +her whom she did not strive to improve. Though she commanded the hearts +of many highly distinguished persons in the drawing-room, she commanded +the affections of her family, and of every servant under her roof. Poor +Margaret appeared to her an object of peculiar interest. Ignorant as she +found her in letters, and in many things relating to her situation, +there was in her a capacity, which this lady discovered, to require +nothing but instruction to perfect it. Readily did she comprehend when +the kindness of her mistress was shown in condescending to teach her, +and rapid was the progress she made in everything explained to her. + +Margaret had a difficult situation to fulfil even in the household +arrangements of this excellent lady; for she was under-nursemaid in the +morning, and under-cook in the evening; two very different stations, but +both of which she discharged with fidelity, and at length rose in that +family to fill the head place in both stations at different periods. + +Her mistress had married a gentleman who had fourteen children living at +the time, and she had every prospect of seeing the number increase. It +required a woman of energy to direct the household affairs of such a +numerous family, as well as a woman of method and management in the +nursery. Well did Margaret second the work which the head nurse had in +hand. No one could be more indefatigable in her duties--none more +constantly employed. + +It was Margaret's especial province to walk out with the children, to +carry the young ones, and to lead now and then an elder one. A retired +and pleasant walk it was at the back of the Cliff to Sawyer's Farm, +either along the river's side to the Grove, or Hog Island, or through +the farmyard, up the sandy hill, from the top of which Ipswich and its +environs were so conspicuous. In all the innocent enjoyments of +children, Margaret took particular delight. She would make chains of +dandelions, whistles of cats' tails; collect lords and ladies, string +ladies' hair; make whips of rushes for the boys, and cradles for dolls +for the girls. Her eyes were ever watchful, her hands ever useful. The +children loved her, and bounded to her with pleasure, whenever the order +was given for a walk. She was equally dauntless in their defence, +whether it was against a dog, or the geese, or the cattle of the field, +or the gipsy, or the drunken sailor. + +During this service, an occurrence took place of a singularly +providential nature, which showed the sagacity of this poor girl, and +her presence of mind in so striking a light, that it is well worthy to +be here recorded. The children were all going for a walk, and Master +George and Master Frederic were listening at a rat's hole, under the +foundation of a building, where the workmen were making some +alterations, and had taken away a great deal of the soil, upon one side +of the brickwork. As Margaret came up with some half-dozen of the young +fry, the boys exultingly called to her to come and hear the old rat +gnawing something in the hole. + +Margaret approached, and with that natural quickness of perception with +which she was so gifted, saw danger in the situation of the children. +Listening one moment at the hole she was convinced that the creaking +sound she heard did not proceed from a rat. In another instant she +seized the children by their arms, and exclaimed, with a terror that +communicated itself to them all, "Come away! come away! that wall is +settling!" Scarcely had she ran with the children half a dozen yards +from the spot, when down came the wall in a mass of ruin that must have +buried them all beneath it but for the providential sagacity of this +young girl. To this day the circumstance is remembered by the parties +interested in it, and is looked upon as the interposition of their good +angel, in making use of this humble instrument for the preservation of +their lives. + +Margaret, by this time, could both read and write; for the lady, who +superintended the whole management of the nursery, had her regular +school-hours in the morning devoted to the minutiae of progressive +improvement. It was at one of these morning lessons that she discovered +Margaret's abilities. Hearing the children their lessons in history, and +examining them in the chronology of the kings of England, she was +surprised to hear Margaret prompting Miss Sophia, in a whisper, when the +child was at a loss for the right date. And when she came to question +Margaret, she found that this poor girl had been, though unknown to her, +her most attentive scholar. This induced her to take pains with her, and +to let her be a participator in all the most useful branches of a +nursery education. She was taught to read and write, and understand the +Bible history and the Gospel scheme of redemption; in all which studies +she became as well informed as any of the children. Soon after this, she +rose to be the head nursemaid. + +As the winter came on, the walks became more circumscribed; and though +she occasionally saw the old fisherman, with his basket of soles and +plaice, yet from him she could gather no tidings of her lover, good or +bad. To hear nothing may be better than to hear bad tidings; but some +may even think that bad news is better than none at all. The certain +knowledge of any catastrophe, if it has taken place, at ever so great a +distance, is always more satisfactory and consoling than years of +agonizing suspense. + +Perhaps some such ideas might have passed in Margaret's mind; but she +had been so accustomed to hear nothing that was good of her lover, that +she began to construe the long interregnum of his non-appearance into +the hope of some permanent amendment. + +The Orwell, at the period of our narrative, and during the winter +season, was famous for its wild-fowl. At some particular times, when the +decoy-ponds around were frozen over, the birds used to come into the +channel of the river in prodigious flights, covering hundreds of acres +of water with their varieties of plumage. Millions of black coot used to +darken the waves, whilst the duck and the mallard, the diver, the +pin-tail, the bar-goose, and even the wild swan, used to be seen in such +numbers, as in the present day would seem to be incredible. Those, +however, who can remember this river only fifty years ago will fully +corroborate this account. Some live at Ipswich, at this day, who can +well remember the time in which they have made dreadful havoc among the +feathered tribes of the river. Now and then a solitary flight may here +and there be seen visiting the river in the evening, and departing with +the dawn. Since the port of Ipswich has so rapidly increased its +shipping, the traffic of winter, as well as summer, has been so +constant, that the birds have sought some quieter feeding-ground than +the ooze of the Orwell. + +It was at the time when these birds were most frequent, that the young +fowlers of the port used to have extraordinary tales to tell of the +numbers they had killed, and the escapes and adventures they had met +with in the pursuit. One of Mr. Cobbold's younger sons had a great +_penchant_ for this sport, and, though quite a lad, would venture upon +the most hardy enterprises with the weather-beaten sailors, who had been +long accustomed to the river. He was a good shot, too, for a boy, and +would bring home many a duck and mallard as the fruits of his own +excursions. + +It was about four o'clock, one winter evening, when this young gentleman +was seen descending the steps of the Cliff, with the oars over his +shoulder, and his gun in his hand. He looked at the cloudy sky, and +thought he should have good sport upon the river before the morning. His +sisters, Harriet and Sophia, saw him stealing down the Cliff, and he +requested of them not to take any notice of his absence. He unlocked his +boat, and shoved off into the channel alone, rejoicing in the thought of +the _spolia opima_ he should expose next morning at the breakfast-table. + +At tea-time, all the numerous party seated themselves round the table, +before piles of hot toast and bread and butter; and the venerated father +came from his own private room to take his seat with his affectionate +wife and children. He cast his eye upon the party, and looked round the +room, evidently missing one of his children. "Where's William?" he +inquired. The sisters, Harriet and Sophia, began to titter. "Where's +William?" again asked the anxious parent; and the lady, who had been +reading some new book, which had absorbed her attention, had not until +then missed the boy. + +Mr. Parkinson, the confidential clerk, a distant relative, replied, +"Master William has gone out in his boat to shoot wild-fowl." + +"What! on such a night as this? How long since?" + +"Two hours or more, sir." + +The worthy parent rose from his seat, summoned the clerk to follow him +immediately, and, with a fearful expression of countenance, which +communicated terror to the whole party, he said, "Depend upon it, the +child is lost!" + +It was a night on which no reasonable man would have suffered even the +stoutest and strongest sailor to go down the river for such a purpose. +The tide was running out fast, and the ice was floating down in great +masses, enough to stave a stout boat. A piercing sleet, the forerunner +of a snow-storm, drifted along with the wind. Altogether it was as +dismal as darkness and the foreboding anxiety of a fond parent's heart +could make it. Yet Master William, a mere stripling, was upon the +waters, in a boat which required at least two stout men to manage her, +and at the mercy of the storm. Had not his father by mere chance missed +him, and made inquiries about him, he would not have been heard of till +the next morning, and then they would have spoken of his death. As it +was, the sequel will show how nearly that event came to pass. + +The brewhouse men were summoned, two stout fellows, who were put into +the small boat, and it then came out that Master William had taken the +oars belonging to the little boat, to manage a great, heavy craft that +was large enough to hold a dozen men. + +Mr. Cobbold and his clerk went along the shore, whilst the two men in +the skiff, with great oars, shoved along the edge of the channel. +Occasionally the parties communicated by voice, when the lull of the +waves and winds permitted them to do so; but no tidings of the lost boy +could be obtained. + +What agony did that truly good father endure, yet how mild was his +censure of those who ought to have prevented such a lad incurring such +danger! + +In the midst of these anxieties, there was one who shared them with as +much earnestness as if she had been the mother of the child; and this +was Margaret Catchpole. No weather, no winds, no commands of her +master's, could overrule that determined activity of mind which this +girl possessed, to lend a helping hand in time of danger. She had thrown +her cloak over her head, and followed her master with the hope that she +might be of some service. + +The party on the shore could no longer hear even the voices of those +who were in the boat, as the channel took them round the bed of ooze to +the opposite shore. Still did they pursue their course, calling aloud, +and stopping to listen for some faint sound in reply. Nothing answered +their anxious call but the cold moaning of the wintry wind. They +stretched their eyes in vain; they could see nothing: and they had +walked miles along the shore, passing by the Grove, Hog Island, and the +Long Reach, until they came to Downham Reach. No soul had they met, nor +had any sound, save the whistling of the curlew and the winds, greeted +their ears. The anxious father, down whose cheeks tears began to steal +and to stiffen with the frost, gave his dear son up for lost. He had +lived so long by the river, and knew so well its dangers, that it seemed +to him an impossibility he should be saved; and he turned round just by +the opening to the Priory Farm, and said to his clerk, "We must give it +up;" when Margaret said, "Oh, no, sir, not yet; pray do not give it up +yet! Let us go on farther! Do not go home yet." + +Thus urged, her master turned again to pursue the search, and she +followed in his path. + +About a hundred yards onwards, under the shade of the wood, they met a +man. + +"Who goes there?" was the question of the anxious father. + +"What's that to you?" was the rough uncourteous reply, strangely grating +to the father's heart at such a moment. + +In those rough sounds Margaret recognized Will Laud's voice. She sprang +forward, exclaiming, to the no small astonishment of her master, "Oh, +William! Mr. Cobbold has lost his son! Do lend a hand to find him." + +It is needless to dwell upon the mutual surprise of both parties at such +a rencontre. Laud was equally astonished at Margaret's presence at such +a time, and Margaret herself felt an indescribable hope that her lover +might render some effectual service. + +"I beg pardon, sir," said Laud, "but I did not know you." + +"My son went down the river in a boat some three or four hours since, +and I fear he is lost," said Mr. Cobbold. + +"I came up the river as far as I could, and have seen no boat. The +floats of ice were so troublesome, that I resolved to come ashore, and +walk to Ipswich. Had there been a boat between Harwich and the Nacton +shore, I must have seen it. I landed close by Cowhall, and I know there +was no boat on the river, at least so far." + +At that moment they thought they heard some one call. They listened, and +plainly heard the men hallooing from the boat. + +"Ahoy! Ahoy!" called out Will Laud. + +They then listened again, and recognized the voice of Richard Lee, one +of the brewing-men, who called out,-- + +"We have found the boat, but no one in her." + +"Aye, sir," said Will Laud, "then the young gentleman has got ashore!" + +"I fear not!" said the father; "I fear he is lost!" + +Laud feared the same, when he heard that the young lad had taken no +mud-splashers with him: "But," he added, "if the youth knew the river, +he would get out of his boat, and walk by the edge of the channel till +he came to this hardware, and then he might get ashore." + +"What is that dark spot yonder, by the edge of the water?" said +Margaret, as she stooped down to let her eye glance along the dark level +line of the mud. + +"It is only one of the buoys," said the father, "such as they moor ships +to in the reach." + +"There is no buoy in that part of the river," said Will. "Margaret sees +something, and so do I now. I don't know what it is, but I soon will +though." + +And without more ado, he stepped on to the mud and was soon upon +all-fours, creeping along, and dragging his body over the softest +places of the ooze, where he must have sunk into the mud up to his +waist, if he had kept an erect posture. As he advanced, he evidently saw +something lying close to the water's edge, and, after great toil, he +came up to it. True enough he found it to be the stiff body of the poor +youth they had been in search of. Lifting himself up, he called aloud, +"Ahoy! ahoy! Margaret, you are right;" words of such joy as were never +forgotten in after years by any of that party. + +Laud lost no time in hoisting the poor boy on his back, and, tying his +stiff hands round his own neck with his handkerchief, he crept upon the +mud again toward that shore where stood those anxious friends awaiting +his approach. The boy was, to all appearance, stiff and lifeless. The +hair of his head was one matted mass of ice and mud; his limbs were +stiff and frozen; one leg seemed like a log of hard wood, the other they +could bend a little. He had been up to his neck in the mud, and had +evidently been overcome with the exertion of extricating himself. His +clothes were drawn off his back, and had been used as mud-splashers, +until exhausted nature could make no further effort, and he had sunk, +unconscious, upon the ooze. Death seemed to have done his work. + +The only plan now was to get him home as soon as they could. Laud soon +constructed a carriage for him, of a hurdle, upon which he laid his own +jacket, the father's great-coat, and over him he threw Margaret's cloak. +Each of the four persons taking a corner of the hurdle upon their +shoulders, they made their way, as fast as possible, along the shore. In +this way they proceeded at a good round pace, until they reached the +Grove-side, where they met the other servants, coming in company with +the two brewhouse-men, with blankets and brandy, in case Master William +should be found. Their arrival was very opportune, as it enabled the +exhausted party to transfer their burden to the new comers. Mr. Cobbold +expressed his gratitude to Laud, and asked him to come on to the Cliff, +and rest himself that night, and he would endeavour to repay him in the +morning. + +"I thank you, sir," said Laud; "I was coming to see Margaret, and if you +would only grant me a word or two with her, it is all the favour I ask." + +"As many as you please, my man; but it would be better for her and you, +too, to be at the kitchen fire such a night as this, than to be talking +upon the banks of the Orwell." + +Laud seemed to hesitate; at last he said, "Well, sir, I will come." + +Soon afterwards the thoughtful Margaret said to Mr. Cobbold, "Had I not +better run forward, sir, and prepare the slipper-bath, and get the fire +lit in the bed-room, and have warm blankets ready, and send off for Dr. +Stebbing?" + +"Right, Margaret, right!" was her master's reply; "run, my girl, run! It +will be good for you, too. We shall soon follow you." + +On went the damsel, and soon passed the men carrying their young master, +and was the first who brought the joyful tidings that Master William was +found. In all her plans, however, she was anticipated by her +ever-thoughtful mistress. The amber room was prepared, as being the +quietest in the house. The bath, the hot water, the salt to rub his +benumbed limbs, were all ready; for it was concluded, that if he was +found, he would be in such a state of paralysation, from the effects of +the weather, as would make it a work of time to recover him. The boy was +sent off immediately for Mr. Stebbing. The whole family were in a state +of hushed and whispering anxiety. The two sisters, especially, who had +seen their brother depart, and had not spoken a word about it, were +deeply bewailing their own faults. In short, all was anxiety, all was +expectation, almost breathless suspense. Margaret's description to her +mistress was clear, simple, and concise. Her meeting with a sailor, whom +she knew when she lived at Priory Farm, and his acquaintance with all +the buoys on the river, all seemed natural and providential. She gave +orders immediately for a bed to be prepared in the coachman's room for +the sailor, to whose exertions they were so indebted for the restoration +of the child, dead or alive, to his affectionate parents. + +Voices were soon heard coming up the road from the shrubbery, and the +first who entered the house was the father, supporting the head, whilst +the others raised the body of the poor boy. Every exertion was now used, +but for some time no symptoms of life could be observed in him. The +doctor arrived, and he perfectly approved of the steps which had been +taken. He opened a vein, from which the smallest drop of blood exuded. +This he counted a good symptom. He then ordered a bath, at first merely +tepid, and by degrees made warmer. The blood began to flow a little +faster from the arm, and the doctor felt increased hope that the vital +functions were not extinct. With joy he noticed the beginning of a +gentle pulsation of the heart, and a few minutes afterwards of the +wrist, and pointed out these favourable symptoms to the anxious parents. +A little brandy was now forced into the throat. The lips, which had +hitherto been livid as death, began to show a slight change. At length, +in the midst of anxious exertions, the chest began to heave, and the +lungs to obtain a little play; a sort of bubbling sound became audible +from the throat; and, shortly afterwards, a moan, and then the eyelids +half unclosed, though with no consciousness of sight. Convulsive +shudders began to creep over the frame--an indication that a warmer bath +would be judicious. This was soon effected. As the warmth circulated +through the veins, the hands began to move, the eyes to open wider, and +to wander wildly over the space between them. At length they seemed to +rest upon the face of Margaret, who stood at the foot of the bath, and +down whose cheeks tears of hope literally chased each other. A faint +smile was seen to play upon his lips, which told that recognition was +returning. He was then removed from the warm bath to his warm bed. + +An hour afterwards, and their unwearied exertions were rewarded with +hearing Master William pronounce the name of "Margaret." Though so weak +that he could not lift his hand, yet his tongue whispered her name, as +if he felt she had been his preserver. + +He shortly afterwards interchanged smiles with the doctor and his +sisters, and presently afterwards, with his father's hand clasped in +his, he fell asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +BRIGHT HOPES + + +It is not surprising that Laud, as he stood by the kitchen-fire, and +scraped off the mud, a mixture of clay, weeds, and samphire, which were +clotted upon his coarse trousers, should be considered by the tenants of +that part of the house as a person worthy of all admiration. He had +signalized himself in more than one pair of eyes. The master of the +family and the head clerk had beheld his prowess, and had spoken most +highly of him. They had given orders that whatever he required should be +furnished for him. No wonder, then, that in Tom's, John's, or Sally's +eyes, he should shine with such increased lustre. In Margaret's he was +beheld with those feelings of love, and hope, and joy, which anticipated +rapid improvement after long drawbacks, and she saw the object of her +attachment at the most happy and propitious moment of her existence. The +joy of that evening was unalloyed. Master William was recovering. The +grateful father made Will and all his servants enjoy a hearty supper +together, before they retired to rest, and took care the social glass +was not wanting to make them as comfortable as possible. + +The whole establishment sat around the well-spread table before a +cheerfully blazing fire, and were descanting upon the dangers of the +night and the perils which Mr. William must have encountered. At this +moment the doctor entered. + +His curiosity had been excited by the account he had heard of Will Laud. +He easily distinguished that dark swarthy being, with his blue jacket, +changed, by the drying of the mud upon it, to a kind of dun or +fawn-colour. His black hair hung down over his shaggy brow with his long +man-of-war pigtail; and his whiskers, scarcely distinguishable from his +black beard, fulfilled the idea of the weather-beaten sailor which the +doctor had previously entertained. He was fully satisfied in his own +mind with what he saw. He came, he said, to report to Laud the state of +his patient; and after asking him a few questions, and making some +remarks upon his bravery, he wished them all a good-night, and returned +to the parlour, to encounter the entertaining queries of the intelligent +family at the Cliff. + +His report brought them another visitor. The door again opened, and +their mistress stood before her servants. They all rose as she entered, +and Laud above the rest; but whether from the strangeness of his +situation, or from the belief that the lady was about to speak to him, +the moment that his eye met that intellectual and penetrating glance of +inquiry, it became fixed upon the ground. The voice of thanks reached +him, as well as the words of praise. If they did not gratify _him_, they +did at least the heart of the poor girl who stood close by him. She +looked in her mistress's face, and in her heart blessed her for her +kindness. + +"Can we be of any service to you, young man?" said the lady. "We are +anxious to prove ourselves grateful to you: and in any way that you may +claim our future service, you will find us ready to repay you. As an +immediate help, Mr. Cobbold sends you this guinea, an earnest of some +future recompense." + +"Thank you, ma'am! Let Margaret have the guinea, and the thanks too; for +she first discovered the young gentleman." + +This was spoken by Laud without looking at the lady, or once lifting up +his eyes. Was it timidity, or was it shame? Perhaps Laud had never been +interrogated in the presence of a lady before that time. + +He was truly relieved, when Mrs. Cobbold, hoping, as she said, that he +had been well taken care of, and again thanking him for his assistance, +wished him a good night's rest, and took her departure. + +The opinion of the parlour was not so favourable to Laud as that of the +kitchen, as the character of the bold smuggler was estimated very +differently in each place. Mr. and Mrs. Cobbold, however, were not aware +that Laud was in the British navy, having been seized in his boat by a +pressgang, and been bound to serve his majesty three years on board the +_Briton_ man-of-war, then cruising off the coast of Holland. + +Such was the want of British seamen just at this period of the +breaking-out of the long war, that many smugglers received not only +their pardon, but good pay for joining the navy; and even those taken by +the pressgang were only punished, if it may be termed so, by a +three-years' well-paid service. Laud had been thus taken, and had been +so well received on board, that his captain, on the night in question, +had granted him permission to come up to Ipswich. He had offered him a +crew, but Laud said he knew the river, and would rather go alone, if the +captain would only lend him one of the small boats and a pair of oars. +He had promised to be on board again the next day. The request was +granted; for the captain was pleased with Laud's confession of his +object in undertaking to go alone--so, in spite of wind and weather, ice +and snow, he had rowed himself up the river Orwell as far as Nacton +Creek. + +These facts Will had already communicated to Margaret, who, rejoicing in +his present honourable position, overlooked the dangers of a +three-years' service in defence of his country. She felt more proud of +his presence that night at the Cliff than she had ever before done since +the day of his first entrance into her father's cottage. She did not +indeed experience that thrilling warmth of devotion which she once felt +when he visited her on the shores of Downham Reach; but love, through +all its shocks, was much more firm and really hopeful than even at that +enthusiastic period. + +Though Margaret became acquainted with the fact of Laud's admission into +the British navy, and he spoke openly in the kitchen of his ship and her +commander, yet these things were unknown in the parlour, where, as has +just been stated, his personal appearance and character stood at a heavy +discount. In the kitchen he was a hero, in the parlour a desperado. + +The doctor found Master William in a sound and apparently refreshing +sleep; and retired to a couch prepared for himself in an adjoining room, +in case his services might be required in the night. The servants soon +after parted for their respective dormitories, and Laud took leave of +Margaret for the night. + +It is scarcely possible to believe that Margaret, after all her fatigues +and anxieties, should have refused to retire to her room. She actually +begged permission to sit up all night with Master William. Vain were all +attempts at persuasion. She said she knew that if she went to bed she +could not sleep, and as she begged so hard to be permitted to sit up, +the request was granted. + +Hope is a sweet comforter to an anxious heart, and presented a vision of +future bliss to the wakeful spirit of the maid, which afforded her +occupation for the night, presenting to her the prospect of days to +come, when Laud should obtain an honourable discharge from his country's +service, where he was now numbered among the bold, the brave, and the +free, and in which the same Providence which had preserved him to +perform the good act of that night would, she hoped, still preserve him +for many more good deeds. In pleasant reflections the night passed away; +nor was there one in that family who did not join in the general +thanksgiving to God for the signal preservation of the youth, who was +wrapped in a profound and refreshing sleep, watched by the +ever-constant and faithful Margaret. The tempest of the night had swept +along, and was succeeded by a calm and glorious sun-rising, which shone +upon the glittering fields of snow. The fir-trees were weighed down with +the weight of the ice and snow lodged upon their branches, whilst the +beams of the sun made the drops of pendent icicles fall with a smart +sound to the earth. The sailor came down from his bedroom refreshed +after a sound sleep; and, after he had partaken of a hearty breakfast, +he shook hands with all the servants, and took a more tender leave of +Margaret: leaving his best wishes for the young gentleman, he returned +to his boat some miles down the river, and thence to his ship. + +He was gone before the Cliff party assembled at the breakfast-table, but +he took with him the best prayers of all, and most especially those of +the girl of his heart, for his future safety and prosperity. + +Master William gradually recovered, and took warning from this narrow +escape not to venture any more upon such dangerous excursions. Though +fond of boating, he lost the zest for wild-fowl shooting, and left it +for others to pursue who had not purchased experience at so dear a +price. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +ALTERCATION AND EXPLANATION + + +It was not long after these occurrences that Mr. Cobbold and his family +removed from the Cliff to a house in the town, a large family mansion, +formerly the property of C. Norton, Esq., on St. Margaret's Green, which +he had purchased, and thither he and his family would have earlier +removed but for some repairs which were not completed until that time. +It was a fine old mansion, fronting the town, with its entrance porch, +and lofty windows, with numerous attics; whilst its drawing, dining, and +breakfast rooms, faced the beautiful green fields which then skirted +the town towards the hills upon the Woodbridge Road. + +Mrs. Cobbold took the first favourable opportunity of questioning +Margaret respecting her attachment to Will Laud, of whose character she +spoke freely. Margaret spoke warmly in his defence, while she +acknowledged the truth of much that had been advanced against him, and +as warmly expressed her conviction he would reform. Sincerely did the +lady hope that all her poor servant's favourable anticipations might be +confirmed. + +Upon Margaret's spirits, however, this conversation, which was broken +off suddenly by the entrance of one of the servants, produced a +depression which greatly affected and afflicted her. Her mistress did +not appear in her eyes either so amiable, or so kind, or so just, or so +considerate, as she had always previously done. She began to suspect +that she was prejudiced even against her on Laud's account. She fancied +herself not so much beloved by her as she used to be, and that she did +not estimate her services as highly as, by her manner, she used formerly +to show that she did. Words which Margaret would never have thought +anything about at other times, when now spoken by her mistress, seemed +to import something unpleasant, as if her attachment was the reason of +their being uttered. She was never admonished now but she thought it was +because of her unfortunate acquaintance with Laud. Mrs. Cobbold did not +revert, in the least degree, to the past matter of confidential +conversation. Indeed, after her most devout aspirations had been made +for her servant's future comfort, she did not think about the matter. +But in Margaret's eyes every little thing said or done seemed to have a +peculiar meaning, which her own warped mind attached to it. In fact, she +became an altered person--suspicious, distrustful, capricious, and, in +many things, far less careful than she ought to have been. And all this +arose from that well-intentioned conversation, voluntarily begun on the +part of her mistress, but which had created such a serious +disappointment in Margaret's mind. + +A circumstance arose about the time of the removal of the family, which, +though simple in itself, tended very greatly to inflame that disquietude +in Margaret's breast, which only wanted to be stirred up to burn most +fiercely. + +Many of the things had been removed to St. Margaret's Green. Part of the +family had already left the Cliff, and were domesticated in the mansion. +Several of the children, especially all the younger ones, had become +familiarized with their far more extensive nursery: Margaret was with +them. The footman had been sent, together with the gardener, as +safeguards to the house; and even the old coachman, though frequently +engaged driving backwards and forwards from one house to the other, +considered himself, horses and all, as settled at the town-house. + +The Cliff began to be deserted, and in another day the master and +mistress would leave the house to those only who were to live in it. +Mrs. Cobbold and one or two of the elder boys were still at the Cliff. +The faithful old dog, Pompey, still kept his kennel, which stood at the +entrance of the stable-yard. Mr. Cobbold had been superintending the +unpacking of some valuable goods until a late hour, and his lady, at the +Cliff, was anxiously awaiting his return. It was a clear frosty night, +and the snow was upon the ground; but the gravel path had been well +swept down to the shrubbery gate. Pompey had been furiously barking for +some time, and had disturbed Mrs. Cobbold, who was engaged with her +book--some new publication of that eventful time. The two elder boys sat +by the fire. She said to them-- + +"I wish, boys, you would go and see what Pompey is barking at." + +"Oh! it is nothing, I dare say, but some sailors on the shore." + +The young men, for so they might be called, had taken off their boots or +shoes, and had put on their slippers, and very naturally were little +disposed to put them on again, and to move from a nice, comfortable +fire, into the cold air of a frosty night. + +Mrs. Cobbold finding, however, that she could not get on with her book +for the increasing rage of the dog, determined to go out herself. She +was a person of no mean courage, and not easily daunted. She thought, +moreover, that if she moved, her sons would leave their backgammon-board +and follow her, and, if not, that she might probably meet her husband. +She put on her thick cloak, threw a shawl over her head, and sallied +forth. As the door opened, Pompey ceased his loud bark, but every now +and then gave a low growl, and a short, suppressed bark, as if he was +not quite satisfied. Mrs. Cobbold walked down the gravel path toward the +gate, and, as she proceeded, she saw a man go across the path and enter +the laurel shrubbery directly before her. She went back immediately to +the parlour, and told the two young men what she had seen; but, whether +it was that they were too deeply engaged with their game, or that they +were really afraid, they treated the matter very lightly, simply saying, +that it was some sweetheart of the cottagers, or that she must have +fancied she saw some one. At all events, they declined to go out, and +advised her not to think anything more about it. + +This neither satisfied the lady nor old Pompey, who began again to give +tongue most furiously. Finding that she was unable to make them stir, +the lady determined to investigate the matter herself; and, telling the +young men her intention, she again went out, and advanced to the very +spot where she had seen the man enter the shrubbery. The traces on the +snow convinced her the man was in the shrubbery. In a firm and decided +voice, she cried out-- + +"Come out of that bush--come out, I say! I know you are there; I saw you +enter; and if you do not immediately come out, I will order the dog to +be let out upon you! Come out! You had better come out this moment." + +The bushes began to move, the snow to fall from the leaves, and out +rolled a heavy-looking man, dressed as a sailor, and apparently drunk; +he looked up at the lady with a villainous scowl, and staggered a step +towards her. + +"What do you do here? Who are you?" she said, without moving. + +"My name's John Luff. I--(hiccup)--I--I do no harm!" + +At the sound of his voice, Pompey became so furious that he actually +dragged his great kennel from its fixture, and as his chain would not +break, it came lumbering along over the stones towards the spot. + +As the fellow heard this, he began to stagger off, but at every step +turned round to see if the lady followed him. + +This she did, keeping at the same distance from him, and saying, "Be off +with you! be off!" She then saw him go out at the gate, and turn round +the wall, to the shore. + +Farther than her own gate she did not think it prudent to go; but when +she got so far, she was rejoiced to see her husband at a distance +returning upon the marsh wall to the Cliff. + +Old Pompey had by this time come up to the gate with his kennel behind +him, and evidently impatient to be let loose. + +She was engaged in the attempt to unloose the dog as her astonished +husband came up to the gate; he soon learned the cause of this +appearance, and immediately undid Pompey's collar; the animal sprang +over the gate, and ran along the shore till he came to the cut where +boats occasionally landed, and was closely followed by his master, who +plainly saw a man pulling into the channel in a manner which convinced +him he was no inexperienced hand at the oar. + +In the meantime an exaggerated report reached St. Margaret's Green, that +a sailor had been seen lurking about the premises at the Cliff, and that +he had attacked their mistress. + +Of course, the tale lost nothing but truth by the telling; and it was +affirmed in the kitchen that it was Will Laud himself. + +Some told Margaret the fact; she felt greatly annoyed, and was much +surprised that when Mrs. Cobbold came to the house the next day, she did +not speak to her upon the subject. She resolved that if her mistress did +not soon speak to her, she would broach the subject herself; but Mrs. +Cobbold put this question to her the next day:-- + +"Margaret, do you know a man of the name of John Luff?" + +"Yes, madam," she replied; "I do know such a man, and I most heartily +wish I had never known him." + +"I wish the same, Margaret," said her mistress, and then related her +recent adventure. + +"He is the man," said Margaret, "who perverted all Will's naturally good +talents, and induced him to join his nefarious traffickers. He is a +desperate villain, and would murder any one! Did he threaten you with +any violence? I am glad, indeed, that you escaped unhurt from the fangs +of such a monster." + +"He did me no injury," answered the lady. + +Another long conversation then followed between Mrs. Cobbold and +Margaret, in which the latter complained bitterly of the change she +fancied had taken place in her mistress's behaviour towards her. The +lady denied such change had taken place, and endeavoured to convince her +servant that the alteration was in her own disposition. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE RECONCILIATION + + +Whether it was that Margaret's fame had reached the village of +Brandiston, or that Mrs. Leader repented most bitterly the loss of her +assistance, or that her rents of the land and cottages began to be in +arrear and to fall off, and she herself found that poverty crept in upon +her, certain it was that something sufficiently powerful in its nature +prompted her to speak kindly to Margaret, whom she accidentally met that +very day as she was going across the Green towards Christ Church Park. +She had arrived at Ipswich with her husband, and was passing over the +Green just as Margaret with the children, all wrapped up in cloaks and +muffs, were going to see the skaters on the Round Pond in the Park. + +The meeting was much more cordial than could have been expected; but +Mrs. Leader was a changed woman. After the interchange of mutual +civilities, Margaret said that she should be home by four o'clock, and +if her uncle and aunt would call, she knew that her mistress would have +no objection to their coming into the house. Mrs. Leader even shook +hands with her, and promised to pay her a visit. + +What a wonderful change! thought Margaret, as she hastened on with the +little ones to overtake two or three of the impatient party, who were +looking behind from the Park-gate. + +The Park at Ipswich is a beautiful place in summer: twice a week were +its gates thrown open by the liberal proprietor of the domain to the +inhabitants of the town, who rambled along the shady chestnut walk to +its utmost bound. Many were the happy walks that infancy, delighting in +the sunny flowers of the mead, took in that lovely place; and many the +more tender and animating rambles which fond hearts and faithful lovers +in the days of youth enjoyed. Parents and their children breaking away +from the cares of business, delighted to stroll in holiday attire, and +repose themselves beneath the branches of those stately trees which +everywhere adorned the Park. There they heard the first notes of the +cuckoo; there they watched the green and spotted woodpecker; observed +the busy rooks; heard the nightingales, the thrushes, and the doves, and +spoke of all the innocent pleasures of nature. + +The spotted fallow deer crossed their path in a long line of rapid +flight, and assembled in a herd in the valley; the pheasant and the +partridge roamed about in pride and beauty; whilst the hare and the +rabbit, familiarized to the sound of children's voices, lifted up their +long ears, or stood up upon their hind legs to gaze upon them as they +passed. + +In the winter, the stragglers in the Park were comparatively few, +excepting at that period when the pond was frozen over, and became the +fashionable resort for company to view the skaters; thither the young +party whom Margaret had the care of resorted, to see the dexterous +movements of Counsellor Green, or some of his majesty's officers from +the barracks. The company that day was numerous, and the scene such as +would delight thousands, even were it in the gay metropolis; it would +have induced many of the fashionables to leave the warm, soft cushions +by the fireside, and to wrap themselves in furs, and to put on their +snow-shoes, and to enjoy the healthy, though frosty, air of Christmas. + +Many in the busy town of Ipswich left their labours and their cares for +a few hours' recreation; fair ladies ventured to lean upon a brother's +or a lover's arm and try the slippery ice; sledges, too, were in +requisition. + +Though the skating was good, and all the young people enjoyed it, +Margaret's thoughts were upon her uncle and aunt, and she was the first +to remind her young people that the old Christ Church clock had struck +four. + +Home they went, gratified and satisfied, talking of the frightful cracks +and heavy falls, and well-contested races, which they had mightily +enjoyed; when they came into the house they gave a lively account of all +they had seen. + +With Mrs. Cobbold's permission, Mr. and Mrs. Leader were invited to take +tea in the housekeeper's room, and Margaret was allowed to have a long +talk with them. + +She found her uncle much more chatty than her aunt, for sorrow and +coming poverty had cast their shadows before Mrs. Leader, and +wonderfully softened the asperity of her former purse-proud disposition; +she let her husband speak of all the family troubles, and did not once +interrupt him. Margaret soon learned that all their property was +mortgaged, and for its full value. She learned that the children were +barefoot, and neglected; that it would require steady management indeed +ever to bring them again into a prosperous or a comfortable state; she +felt for them all, and not only felt, but did all she could to +ameliorate their condition. She offered advice, which was taken in good +part by the now crestfallen aunt. + +A strange effect had that comfortable reception in the housekeeper's +room upon the nerves and manners of Mrs. Leader, she looked up to +Margaret as if she was a person of considerable consequence in that +family; she asked Margaret if she might also see the children; nothing +could have given Margaret greater pleasure. + +All in the nursery were delighted to see a visitor; and Mrs. Leader very +soon discovered that where management, cleanliness, and strict attention +are paid there will grow up order, regularity, and comfort; she stayed +some minutes with the happy family. As she returned to the housekeeper's +room, she sighed when she said to Margaret-- + +"I now wish I had never provoked you to leave us! I did not like to own +it, but, very soon after you were gone, I felt your loss; I hope you +will be able to come and see us in the summer, and should you ever be +tired of service, and wish for a home, you will find us very altered in +our manner to you, and more grateful for your services." + +Margaret could forgive all that her aunt had ever said or done to her; +she felt so happy in having been reconciled to her, that she could not +refrain from telling her so. She gave a portion of her wages for the +schooling of the children, and thanked her uncle and aunt for their kind +invitation. She even hinted that the time might come when her hopes of +settling in Brandiston might be realized, should Laud obtain his +discharge; in short, she promised to see them in summer, as she had no +doubt that she could obtain leave from her kind mistress. + +The day was gone, and the moon was high, and the sky was clear, and the +happy Margaret would have had them stay all night. She had received a +message to the effect that the pony might be put in the stable, and that +her uncle and aunt might sleep in the house; they prudently declined, +lest a deep snow might fall and prevent their reaching home; so off they +went, happier than they had been any day since their affectionate niece +left them, and this happiness arose from the reconciliation. + +It was a lucky thing for Mr. and Mrs. Leader that they went home as they +did that very night, for not long after their arrival home began that +severe winter and deep snow which formed one of the most remarkable +features in the history of the climate of England. + +It would be foreign to the present narrative to dwell upon the events of +that particular season, further than to refer to the great exertions +made by persons of all ranks and conditions, above actual distress, to +support the famishing poor. Houses were established in different parts +of the town of Ipswich for the public distribution of soup, coals, and +blankets, and various families agreed to furnish supplies for the +various days of the week. + +Margaret was now as busy in the kitchen as she had been in the nursery, +for at this time the cook of the family returned home ill, and no one +else could be found so apt as Margaret to supply her place. + +It was at this memorable season that her aptitude for this situation was +discovered, which led to such a change in her condition, as future pages +will record. A servant was soon found for the nursery, who supplied her +place, and she became the active cook of the family. In such a large +domestic establishment as that of Mr. Cobbold, the cook was a person of +the utmost consequence; and although there was a regular housekeeper who +acted as an intervening link between the parlour and the kitchen, yet +Mrs. Cobbold was by no means so unacquainted with the proceedings of her +house, as to be found negligent of a due supervision over every +department. + +In the new place Margaret had undertaken at the earnest request of her +mistress, her active powers of benevolence were now called into +existence. The feeling manner in which she represented to her +fellow-servants the destitution of thousands around them, and the great +sin there was in the least waste; the strong necessity now became a duty +in every one to deny themselves some portion of their daily bread, that +those who were starving might have a share; made a powerful impression +upon the domestics of that establishment. At this time, though a greater +allowance was made on account of the provisions given away by this +affluent family, yet such was the economy in the kitchen, and the +honest, self-satisfactory privation exercised by the whole house, that +not the least waste was made, and the accustomed expenditure was very +little increased. The poor, however, were bountifully supplied, and +Margaret's name was as justly praised below stairs, as, in past days, it +had been above. Little did she think that her activity, economy, and +management, which a sense of duty and charity had called into action, +would fix her in the kitchen at such an increase of wages, as, +comparatively, seemed to her like coming into a little fortune. She had +now become the head of all the domestics, from having been the servant +of all. She had an increase of toil, but she had a help under her. There +was dinner for the nursery, dinner for the kitchen, dinner for the +parlour, and that which is now almost obsolete, a hot supper for all the +house. But what is work to one who is strong and willing, and ready and +desirous of giving satisfaction? + +Time, fully occupied, passes on rapidly, and Margaret was now looked +upon with respect by the whole house. What a pity that that respect +should ever have been blighted, or that any circumstances should have +interfered with that peaceful enjoyment which she seemed at this time to +experience, and which in after years she never forgot! In leaving the +nursery, she left that frequent intercourse with her mistress, and +consequently that continued mental improvement which she had gradually +imbibed. She was not now under her immediate eye; she seldom heard that +sweet voice of approbation, pleasing beyond all expression from such a +mistress. + +It was one of those singular coincidences which happened in her eventful +life, that on the celebrated 1st of June, 1794, her lover, William Laud, +distinguished himself in Lord Howe's victory over the French, and was +one of the seamen appointed to bring home a splendid prize to +Portsmouth; and that Margaret herself, on the very same day, +distinguished herself in an aquatic feat, which would have been no +disgrace to a British seaman to have performed, and which exhibited a +degree of courage and presence of mind, truly wonderful in a female. + +In the garden belonging to the mansion at St. Margaret's Green was a +very deep pond, with turfed sides, which were sloping and steep, so that +the gardener had to descend to the water by a flight of six steps. +Formerly it had been a handsome square pond, with edges neatly kept, and +surrounded by alpine strawberry-beds. At the period of this tale, one +side opened into the adjoining meadow, and half of that extensive garden +was laid down to grass. To this day, the two stately weeping willows +may be seen dipping their pensile edges into the pond, though time has +lopped off many an arm, and somewhat curtailed them of their beauty. At +that time, when Margaret was cook at St. Margaret's Green, these trees +were the ornaments of the exterior of the town, and to have made a +sketch from the hill, on the Woodbridge Road, without including them, +would have been to have robbed the town of Ipswich of one of its most +prominent and pleasing features of landscape beauty. They were very +lofty, though pendent, and in the month of June, might be justly styled +magnificent. Hundreds of their boughs kissed the water with their thin, +taper points. The girl who had the care of the children had been often +warned not to go near the edge of the road. + +On this 1st of June, 1794, Margaret had entered the garden to gather +some herbs, and had scarcely closed the gate before she heard a sudden +shriek of distress. The voices of the children struck upon her, from the +centre of the garden. She ran down the path, and there she saw the whole +group standing and screaming at the edge of the pond, and the nursemaid +completely at her wits' end with fright. Master Henry had been running +away from his sisters, who were pursuing him down the path, and having +turned his head round to look at them, he did not perceive his danger. +His foot caught the edge of the grass border which surrounded the pond, +and he was precipitated head-foremost into the deepest part of it. In a +moment he was seen plunging and screaming for help, but all his efforts +only tended to carry him still further towards the middle of the pond: +he must inevitably have been drowned, had not Margaret at that moment +providentially entered the garden. + +Margaret's astonishing presence of mind enabled her to resolve in an +instant what it was best to do, and her heroic courage caused her not to +shrink from doing it; she ordered the nurserymaid to run with all speed +to the stables for a ladder and rope, and then creeping along the +strongest arm of the weeping willow that spread itself over the centre +of the pond, and going as far as she could towards the child, she +grasped a handful of those pendent branches which dipped themselves into +the water, and swinging herself by her right arm, into the pond, and +stretching out her left to the utmost, she seized the child by the +collar of his little jacket, and held him above the water until the +assistance she sent for arrived. + +It required both nerve and presence of mind, as well as bodily strength +to support herself in this position only for a few minutes. She +gradually drew the child nearer to her, and though in great danger +herself, her first words to him were, "Don't be afraid, Master Henry; I +have got you! Keep still! keep still! don't struggle!" + +The gardener and the coachman had by this time arrived with the ladder +and a rope, they let it down from the arm of the tree, resting the upper +stave just against its branches. The gardener descended a few steps, and +Margaret gave him the child, whilst she herself remained with the boughs +in her hand, until the boy was safe. She then requested them to throw +her the rope, that she might leave go of the willow and be drawn to the +side of the pond. She put the rope round her waist and took hold of it, +doubled, with both hands, and in this way was dragged through the water +to the bank. + +Thus was Margaret Catchpole, for the third time, the providential +instrument in preserving the life of a member of Mr. Cobbold's family. +It will not, then, be a matter of surprise, that the records of her life +should have been so strictly preserved among them. If there had been any +former coolness or misunderstanding between her and any of the domestics +of the family, this event completely reconciled all differences. It was +felt by one and all, that a woman who could risk her life to save +another's, in this manner, was worthy of their united respect. She was, +at this time, at the very summit of her reputation. A few days more +brought the news of that celebrated victory over the French fleet, +which added so much to the naval glory of Old England. In that victory +more than one Ipswich man partook, and returned to speak of the +engagement. One poor fellow, in particular, was sent home, desperately +wounded, who, for many years, became an object of respect, as well as +charitable attention, to many families in the town and neighbourhood. +This was poor old Jack, whose friends kept the Salutation public-house, +in Carr Street, who always went by the name of "What Cheer?" When he +first returned to his aunt, the landlady of the house, he had his senses +perfect, and could speak of the engagement with such clearness and +precision as delighted the seamen who frequented the house. He was on +board the same ship as Will Laud, and on the 1st of June they fought +side by side. + +Margaret heard of this, and used to go down to the public-house in +question, to hear from Jack all she could of one who was as dear to her +as her own life. He was desired by Laud to tell Margaret that he was +coming home with plenty of prize-money as soon as he could obtain his +discharge. It was this which gave her spirit such joy, and made her so +anxious to hear all she could of the battle; and, of course, of that +part which her lover took in it. Poor Jack's intellects, however, from +the severity of his wounds, and consequent attack of fever, became +irretrievably impaired; and though he recovered his health, and became a +constant visitor at St. Margaret's Green, yet he never could afterwards +give any connected account of the battle. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE ALTERATION + + +We left our heroine, in the last chapter, esteemed of every one who knew +her, and looking forward to what was to her the height of human +felicity--the reformation and return of her sailor-lover. No less true +than strange is the fact, that when we reach the highest pinnacle of +this world's happiness, some giddiness of the head is apt to make us +fall. So, at all events, it proved with the female who gives a title to +this book. It became matter of deep concern to every member of Mr. +Cobbold's family, to behold in her an alteration which no previous +circumstances in her life had prepared them for. There was nothing in +reason, and consistent with their own happiness, that her grateful +master and mistress would not have granted her. Any situation she wished +to attain, either for herself or for her friends, would have commanded +every exertion they could have made in her favour. She stood so high in +their opinion, and in every one's else who knew her, that it scarcely +seemed possible for her to forfeit it. Apparently she had nothing to +complain of; no cause for dissatisfaction; no inducement whatever to +alter her disposition. Yet an alteration did take place, and one which +became evident to every one. + +Where the heart is unsettled, things seldom go on well. There wants that +peace and security which can alone make the discharge of our daily +duties a daily pleasure. Margaret's early impressions of religion had +been of a very desultory kind, and here was the root of all the evil +that afterwards befell her. The want of fixed religious principles early +instilled into the young mind has caused many a good disposition to +give way to those changes and chances which happen in life, and to +create an alteration even in the brightest prospects. In the earliest +days of this child of nature, an innate humanity of disposition had been +cultivated and increased by her attendance on a sick and afflicted +sister and an aged mother, both of whom had constantly required her aid. +Her natural qualities were, as the reader has seen, up to this moment of +the noblest cast. Still, in the absence of any strong religious +sentiment, the best dispositions are at the mercy of violent passions, +and are subject to the most dangerous caprices. The reader must have +observed that, in the midst of all her good qualities, Margaret +Catchpole evinced a pertinacity of attachment to the object of her +affections, even in his most unworthy days--an attachment which no +circumstances whatever, not even the warning of her sister's death-bed, +could shake. She had built upon a vague hope of Laud's alteration of +life, and his settlement in some quiet occupation. She had been +accustomed to very great disappointments and vexations; and, with a +spirit above her years, she had borne them all, and had shown an energy +of mind and activity worthy of better things. How weak are all qualities +without the support of religion! At a time when promises seemed most +fair, when an unexpected reconciliation had taken place with her uncle +and aunt Leader, when Laud's return was daily expected, and all the +favours of a generous family were heaped upon her for her good +conduct,--at such a time an alteration of her disposition took place, +which embittered her existence for many years. She became peevish and +irritable, discontented and unhappy, moody and melancholy. She thanked +nobody for assistance, asked nothing of any one, and gave no reason to +any of her fellow-servants for this sudden alteration. Such would not +have been the case, had religion taught her, as it now does many in her +station of life, how to feel supported in prosperity as well as in +adversity. It is a trite saying, that "we seldom know when we are well +off." We are not content to "let well alone;" but too often foolishly +speculate upon the future, and fall into some present snare. + +Nothing had been heard of or from Laud, except that a sailor, who had +served with him in the glorious battle of the 1st of June, had visited +the town, and told Margaret that Laud was appointed to come home in one +of the prizes taken by Lord Howe; and that, probably, he was then at +Portsmouth, waiting until he should receive his prize-money and his +discharge. Margaret occasionally stole down in the evening to the +Salutation public-house, where the sailor was staying, to speak with +him, and to hear the naval news. She was here occasionally seen by other +sailors, who frequented the house, and learned where she lived. They +understood the bearings of her history, and some of them used to +fabricate tales on purpose to get an introduction into the kitchen at +St. Margaret's Green, where they were sure to be welcomed and well +treated by Margaret. She was, at this time, very anxious to hear tidings +of her lover, and day after day exhibited symptoms of restlessness, +which could not long be passed by without notice. The frequency of +sailors' visits to the kitchen began to be rumoured through the house, +and stories injurious to the reputations of the inmates were circulated +in the neighbourhood. Moreover, the housekeeper missed various articles; +and meat, and bread, and stores, began to be unaccountably diminished. +Inquiries were instituted, and it was found that Margaret had certainly +given such and such things to sailors; and without doubt, some things +were stolen. + +Under these circumstances, it became high time for the mistress of the +house to take notice of these things; and, in as gentle a manner as the +circumstances of the case would permit, she spoke to Margaret alone on +the subject. She regretted to hear from all quarters the alteration +which had taken place in her manner. She spoke to her most feelingly +upon the result of such a change, and with great kindness contrasted +the pleasure of the past with the sorrow which her late conduct +occasioned. + +"I cannot," she added, "permit sailors of every kind to be incessantly +coming to the house at all hours with pretended news of Laud, and so +deceiving you by playing upon your disposition, and then robbing you and +the house. Reports of a very unpleasant nature have reached my ears +injurious to your character and that of my establishment. I cannot +submit to these things; and, though I most sincerely regard you, +Margaret, yet I must make you sensible of the danger you incur by +listening to the artful tales of these men. I strongly recommend you to +have nothing to do with them. Your own character is of much more +consequence to you than their nonsensical stories. If you wish it, I +will write for you to Portsmouth to make inquiries about Laud; and, +rather than you should be in doubt and affliction, and in any +uncertainty about him, I am sure that your master will send a +trustworthy person to search him out and ascertain the cause of his +detention. + +"Let me see you henceforth what you used to be--cheerful and contented, +thankful and happy, and not over-anxious about matters which in the end +will all probably come right. You have my entire forgiveness of the +past, even though you do not ask it; but let me not be imposed upon for +the future. Go, Margaret, go; and let me hear no more of these +complaints." + +Margaret heard all that her mistress said in perfect silence. She +neither defended herself, nor yet thanked her mistress, as she used to +do. She seemed sullen and indifferent. She left the presence of that +kind lady and most sincere friend with scarce a curtsy, and with such a +pale, downcast countenance, as deeply distressed her benefactress. Then +was it the painful reflection occurred, that her servant's religious +principles had been neglected; that her duty as a servant had been done +from no higher motive than that of pleasing man; and that when she had +failed to do so, and received a rebuke, her spirit would not bear it. +These reflections pressed themselves upon the kind lady's mind, and she +resolved to do her best to correct for the future that which appeared so +deficient. + +Margaret returned to the kitchen unaltered, saving in feature; she was +silent, pale, and restless. She did her work mechanically, but something +appeared to be working upon her in a very strange way. She could not sit +still a moment. Sometimes she put down her work, and sat looking at the +fire, as if she was counting the coals upon it. At one time she would +rise and appear to go in search of something, without knowing what she +went for. At another time she would bite her lips and mutter something, +as if she were resolute and determined upon some point which she did not +reveal. Her fellow-servants did not lay anything to her, and took as +little notice as her strange manner would permit. They all considered +that something very unpleasant had occurred between herself and her +mistress. Some surmised that warning had been given; others that she +would leave of her own accord; but all felt sorry that one who had been +so highly esteemed should now be so perverse. + +One evening, in the midst of these domestic arrangements of the kitchen, +when all the servants were assembled, a knock was heard at the +back-kitchen door; the girl who opened it immediately called out, +"Another sailor wants to see you, Margaret!" + +Without rising from her seat, as she was accustomed to do with alacrity +upon such occasions, Margaret petulantly and passionately replied, loud +enough for the sailor to hear her through the door of the kitchen, which +now stood open, "Tell the fellow to go about his business! I have +nothing to do with, or to say to, any more sailors. Tell him to be off!" + +The sailor stepped one step forward, and pitched a canvas bag in at the +kitchen-door, which fell with a loud chink upon the bricks. He had heard +the words of Margaret, and was off in a moment. + +The reader will doubtless surmise that this was none other than Will +Laud. He it was who, at this unfortunate moment, returned, with all his +prize-money, on purpose to give it to Margaret, for whom he had kept it, +intending to purchase a shop at Brandiston, or one of the neighbouring +villages, where she might like to live. The bag had a label, directed + + "To Margaret Catchpole, + John Cobbold's, Esq., + Cliff, Ipswich." + +Had this unfortunate girl been in a different mood, she might have +recognized the voice, as she once did on that memorable night when Mr. +William's life was saved. She heard the rap, and the inquiry for her; +but knowing her mistress's commands, and believing the visitor to be one +of those whom she had styled impostors and thieves, she had, with +considerable energy and irritability, spoken those cutting words, which +sent him away in despair. + +What agony now struck upon the heart of Margaret! She started at the +sound of the bag as it fell at her feet; she looked bewildered for one +moment; the truth burst upon her, and she rushed out of the house with +such a wild shriek as pierced the heart of every one who heard it. She +ran into the street. The night was growing dark; but, on the opposite +side of the green, against the garden pales, she saw a sailor standing +and looking at the house. She ran to him, seized his arm, and exclaimed, +"Laud, is it you?" + +He replied, "Yes--hush!" + +"Come in, then; come into the house; I am sure you may come in." + +The sailor walked on, with Margaret by his side. He did not speak. This +Margaret naturally attributed to her late repulsive words, and she now +said, soothingly, by way of apologizing for her harshness-- + +"I did not intend to send you away. I have lately had several sailors to +speak to me about you, and I was only too glad to hear them; but my +mistress gave orders to me this day not to have anything more to do with +them. I am sure she did not mean to send you away--neither did I intend +it. Come back, come back!" + +"Come on, come on!" said the sailor, in as soft accents as he could. +And, by this time, they had approached the old granary wall, at the back +of the park stables. Opposite to these stables was a cow-keeper's yard, +with the dwelling inside the gates. The gates stood open: they might +rather be termed folding-doors, for, when shut, no one could see through +any part but the keyhole. The sailor turned in here with Margaret, as if +he knew the premises, and immediately closed the gates. A light glanced +from a window in the cottage, and fell upon the sailor's face. In an +instant Margaret recognized the hated features of John Luff. + +The poor girl was paralysed; she was completely in the tiger's claws; +she could not speak, her heart so swelled with agony. She thought of +this monster's cruelty, and believed him to be capable of any desperate +deed. She recovered sufficient presence of mind, however, to be resolved +to grapple with him, should he have any evil purpose in view. She +retreated a few steps toward the gates. He suspected by this that she +had discovered who he was, and he threw off the mask in a moment. + +"You know who I am, I see; and I know you. I do not want to harm you; +but I want to know something from you, which, if you tell me truly, you +shall receive no injury; but, if you do not tell me, I tell you plainly +that, as you are now in my power, so you shall never escape me. You +spoke just now of Will Laud. Now, no tacking about; bear up at once, and +come to the point. Tell me where he can be found." + +"I do not know," replied Margaret. + +"No lies, girl! You do know. You were expecting him from Portsmouth this +very night. I knew he was coming home with his prize-money; so did you. +I don't want his money, but I want him. I have sworn to take him, dead +or alive, and have him I will. You have seen him: I have not. Now tell +me where he is, and I will let you go; but if you tell me not, down you +shall go headlong into the well at the bottom of this yard!" + +The truth burst upon the poor girl's mind, that this fellow was watching +Laud to murder him. She was now convinced that it was Laud who came to +the back-kitchen door, and that he must have gone over the garden +palings towards the Woodbridge Road, instead of going into the street. +With a woman's heart beating high at the danger of her lover, she +inwardly rejoiced, even at this dreadful moment, that her sudden words +had perhaps saved Laud's life. She forgot her own loss, and her spirit +rose to reply firmly and boldly to the cowardly rascal who threatened +her-- + +"I do not know where Laud is. I wish I did; and I would let him know +that such a villain as you are ought to be hanged." + +The monster seized her, gagged her mouth with a tow-knot, and tried to +pull her away from the gate. She had seized hold of the long iron bar, +which was fastened to a low post, and fitted into a staple on the door. +She thought she heard voices outside the gates, speaking of her. Just as +the villain lifted her from the ground to fulfil his determined purpose, +she swung the iron against the door with such force, that the servants +outside were convinced something was wrong. They called, but received no +answer. They heard footsteps receding from the door, and called to +Smith, the cowkeeper, to know what was the matter. They did not receive +any immediate answer, but a light streamed under the door, and in +another moment they heard a scuffle, and Smith's voice calling for help. + +With their united force they burst the gates open, and ran down the +yard. The candle was burning on the ground, and Smith prostrate beside +it. In a moment after, they heard the bucket of the well descending with +rapidity, and then a sudden splash, as if a heavy body had reached the +bottom of it. + +Smith recovered quickly from his fall, and declared he saw a +sailor-looking man, carrying a female in his arms, and he firmly +believed that she was thrown down the well. He got his lantern, and +directed the men to take down the long church ladder, which was hung up +under the roof of the cowhouse, and bring it after him. The ladder was +put down the well, and Smith descended with his lantern, and called out +that there was a woman in the well. + +"Unhank the bucket: tie the rope round her body, and ease her up the +ladder; we can help you to get her out so." + +This was done: and when she was drawn up, the servants recognized the +features of Margaret Catchpole. + +Smith was quite sure the man he saw was in sailor's dress. It was a +providential circumstance that the very act of gagging had prevented the +water getting to her lungs, and so saved her from drowning. She breathed +hard, and harder still when the gag was removed, and was very black in +the face. She had received a severe blow on the head from her fall +against the bucket, the iron of which had caught her gown, and was the +cause of its descending with her to the water. She might have had a +severer blow against the sides of the well but for this circumstance. +She was quite insensible, and in this state was carried home, where she +was laid between warm blankets, and the doctor sent for. She was quickly +bled, and was soon restored to conscious animation. + +As she revived, she refused to communicate anything on the subject of +the disaster; and it was thought best, at that time, not to say much to +her about it. Conjectures were much raised, and the matter was much +talked over. The bag, which was opened by her master, was found to +contain one hundred and thirty guineas in gold and silver coin. Mr. +Cobbold took charge of it, and sealed it with his own seal. From all +that could be learned, it seemed that a sailor, whom all now conjectured +to be Laud, had thrown the money in at the door, and Margaret had +rushed out after him; that she had overtaken him; and that some violent +altercation had taken place between them, which had led to this most +extraordinary act. The whole affair seemed to be fraught with reckless +desperation. Could anything be more so than to throw such a sum of money +at a person's foot, and then to throw that person down a well? Why do +such a deed? Was he jealous? Had he heard of the many sailors who had +lately made Margaret's acquaintance? It might be, thought some, that he +had suddenly returned, and hearing of her conduct, had put the worst +construction upon it; and, in a desperate state, had been foolishly +generous, but too fatally jealous to hear any explanation. These ideas +passed through the minds of more than one of the family. + +Margaret slowly recovered from the fever which had settled in her frame, +and greatly reduced it. She kept her bed for several weeks; she kept her +tongue, too, as still and as free from communication with any one as she +possibly could under the circumstances. She did not say anything of her +own accord, even to her anxious and beloved mistress. + +It was soon circulated about that an atrocious attempt at murder had +been made in the parish of St. Margaret's, and the authorities of the +town took it up, and made inquiries into the matter. Understanding that +the young female was in too weak a state to have her deposition taken, +they did not visit her, but a reward was offered for the apprehension of +the man, and his person was described by the cowkeeper. + +There was but one person to whom Margaret opened her lips willingly upon +the subject, and that was her old friend and medical attendant, Mr. +Stebbing. He learned from her, that it was not Laud that had thrown her +down the well, but a fellow named Luff, one of his former evil +companions. She told the doctor her belief that Laud was the person who +had unintentionally been driven away by her on that unfortunate night; +"And I fear," she added, "that he will be induced by my seeming +harshness to return to his old courses. He will never forgive me--I know +he never will! Oh, that I could have had one word with him! If I could +but get well, I would try and find him. Oh, doctor, I am so anxious to +get well! Pray, help me!" + +"This is the plain reason, my girl, why you are so slow in recovering. I +knew you had something upon your mind that you kept back; and now that +you have told me thus much, let me speak to you in my own way. I tell +you honestly, Margaret, I never should think a man worth having who took +himself off in that kind of way. If, as you say, you refused to see a +sailor who did not give his name, the man ought to have been pleased, +rather than displeased, if he really loved you. If he was not a fool, he +would naturally think it would be the very first thing a girl with any +proper feeling would say. Take my word, Margaret, and I am somewhat more +experienced than you are, that if Laud is worth your having, he will +soon be here again. But don't you think of running after him. If he +comes back in a few days, well; but if not, I wish I might be able to +persuade you not to think of him at all. What could induce Luff to +attempt to murder you?" + +"He threatened, that unless I told him where Laud was, he would throw me +down the well. I imagine that Laud having escaped from the gang of +smugglers, this villain was sworn either to be revenged upon him for +some quarrel, or else he had promised Captain Bargood, his employer, to +bring him back again. I was determined not to tell him that Laud had +been to the house, and the fellow took this desperate revenge on me. +But, thank God, his purpose is frustrated! You know Laud, doctor, as +well as I do. I can conceive that my speech took him so completely by +surprise, that, after he had been saving up all his money for me, and +had been congratulating his mind upon my joy at his change, my words +must have cut him to the quick, and have driven him away in +desperation." + +"I wish I could think so, Margaret; but my idea is, that if he had been +the altered man you picture him, he would never have conducted himself +in that way. I tell you plainly, that I should be much more apt to think +he liked somebody else better than you; and that he threw down the money +merely because his conscience told him he had wronged you; and made him +feel that he ought to make you some recompense. If he does not come back +in a few days, I shall be confirmed in this opinion." + +The poor girl had never looked at the matter in this light. She felt a +strange sensation creeping over her mind, and, in the weak state she +then was in, she had a superstitious dread of her sister's last +words--"Margaret, you will never marry William Laud." The words seemed +to tingle in her ears, and to come, at this moment, with redoubled +force; she shook her head, sighed, and thanked the doctor for his good +advice. + +"I shall explain these matters to your mistress, Margaret," said Mr. +Stebbing. "It will remove all erroneous ideas, and may spare you some +pain and trouble. You must rouse yourself; the magistrates are daily +asking me about you; I have told them that you have too virulent a fever +upon you at present to make it safe for them to see you; and, depend +upon it, they will not be over-anxious to run any risk." + +"Pray, sir, could not you take down what I have said, as well as having +any other person to do it?" + +"If I do, Margaret, it must be read to you before two justices of the +peace, and you will have to swear to it." + +"Well, sir, so it must be then." + +And the good doctor left his patient, and gladly explained the exact +state of the case to her mistress. + +It was not very difficult for that lady to form her own conclusions now. +She was of Margaret's opinion, that Laud's first step would be to rejoin +the smugglers. She thought that he would become a more desperate +character than ever. Instability of purpose was always Laud's failing. +When Margaret got about again, her mistress, having considered all the +circumstances, thought it best that she should go home to her parent's +roof for a time. "As you are so much better," said she to her one day, +"and have been so much shaken lately, and your deposition has been taken +before the magistrates, I would strongly recommend a little change for +the benefit of your health. The doctor thinks it advisable. You can go +and stay a while with your uncle and aunt Leader, or you can go and see +your father and younger brother. You may go when you please. Remember +that there are one hundred and thirty guineas in your master's hands, to +be appropriated to your use. Your father or your uncle may wish to +consult us for your benefit. We shall be happy to see them for such +purpose at any time. If you wish to enter into any business, you shall +have our best advice and assistance. I think change will do you good. If +you do not settle in any way for yourself, and still prefer service, we +shall be glad to receive you amongst us again when you have recruited +your health and spirits." + +"I do not," Margaret replied, "want anything beyond my wages. I do not +consider that money my own, and shall never appropriate any of it to my +own use. It belongs to Will Laud. I feel very much obliged to both my +master and yourself for the interest you have always taken in me, and +for your offer of future assistance. I will consult with my friends. I +certainly do not feel so happy as I used to do." + +Her kind mistress did not choose to remind her of the great alteration +of her temper and conduct of late, because she did not wish to revive +old grievances. And, as she was about to leave for a time, with a +possibility of some chance of settlement without service, she let the +matter rest. + +Margaret, shortly after this conversation, took leave of as good a +mistress as a servant ever had. If she did not feel quite the warmth of +attachment to her that she had formerly done, the fault lay in herself, +not in that benevolent lady, who at that time and ever after, manifested +for her the sincerest kindness. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +CHANGE OF SCENE AND CHANGE OF PLACE + + +Soon after Margaret's recovery, and the taking of her deposition before +Colonel Neale, Mr. Gibson, and Mr. Seekamp, justices of the peace, she +took leave of the affectionate friends she had gained in the family at +St. Margaret's Green. She had permission to go and stay as long as she +felt necessary for the recruiting of her spirits, and accordingly she +went to Nacton. She found her aged father and her younger brother living +in the same cottage, and in better work and condition than when she had +left them. They gladly welcomed her, and she spent a peaceful quiet time +with them, though painful thoughts intruded themselves upon her mind. +Old and joyful, as well as joyless, associations crowded upon her; she +thought of her career of fortune and misfortune, with many a deep and +painful sigh. Oh! had religious instruction then fortified that mind as +it did years afterwards, what comfort might it not have gained even in +this moment of adversity--what pain might it not have turned aside! Her +father soon perceived that disappointment was gnawing at Margaret's +heart, the more keenly, as it found stronger food to feed upon, from the +past revival of warm hopes, now severely blighted. The old man sought +her confidence, and found that, by conversation with her, he lightened +the heaviness of her load. + +Margaret told her father the exact state of her mind, and did not +conceal anything from him. + +"I much fear," said the old man, "that he has returned to the coast +again, and perhaps to his former vicious companions. Not that I have +heard anything of him; but I know that the coastguard are as active as +they ever were in the discharge of their desperate duty. I cannot think +of any other method of ascertaining the fact, than by sending your +brother Edward down to the coast for a time, and let him learn what he +can. He is a very sharp young fellow, and I can tell you, Margaret, that +for activity of head, heart, and limb, not one of my boys ever exceeded +him." + +"I think the scheme might answer," replied Margaret: "at all events, it +is worth trying. I shall feel more satisfied, let the result be what it +may. I will give him part of my wages, so that he shall lose nothing by +the trip." + +In the evening the plan was proposed to the young man, who readily +entered into his sister's views upon the subject. He would ask his +master for a week or ten days, or a fortnight, if required. + +Margaret gave him strict charge to explain to Will Laud the circumstance +of her having so hastily uttered those words which had given him such +offence; that it was her mistress's command that she should see no more +sailors. "Be cautious," she added; "avoid that villain Luff; for in his +clutches you would be no more than a lamb beneath a tiger's paw. You +must visit all the different places along the coast from Felixstowe to +Aldeburgh. If any of the coastguard speak to you, tell them honestly who +you are; and if you see young Edward Barry, you may tell him all the +truth. He will help you, as he promised to befriend me, should I ever +require his aid. If any private opportunity of speaking to Laud should +occur, tell him his money is all safe, and shall be employed according +to his directions. I consider it his property, though directed to me. +Go, Edward. I shall spend many a restless hour until you return." + +Edward Catchpole was soon on his road to Felixstowe. His first attempt +was to find out the old ferryman, Laud's father, and ascertain if he +knew anything of him. But he learned that the old man had quietly +departed this life, soon after receiving the news of his son's +engagement with the French, in Lord Howe's victory of the 1st of June. +The only thing like a footmark of Laud was in the report given by some +of the neighbours, that a sailor had been there some weeks ago, making +inquiries about the old ferryman; who, ascertaining, however, that he +was dead, went away, and no one heard anything more of him. + +Edward next went on from Felixstowe to Bawdsey Ferry, and took up his +quarters at the Sun Inn. Here he seemed as one come to the seaside for +health; for he was to be seen wandering along the shore, and talking +whenever he could with the sailors. But he could gain no tidings, +directly or indirectly, of the person he sought. He shifted his position +from the Sun to the Old Beach House, at the mouth of the river Alde, now +known by the name of the Life-Boat public-house, then kept by Jacob +Merrells, a pilot. + +Great preparations were then making for building forts and Martello +towers along the coast, to oppose any invasion. Numbers of surveyors, +and workmen in the employ of Government, frequented the Beach House. The +conversation sometimes turned upon smuggling, and young Catchpole's +heart beat high at such moments, with the hope of some clue to Laud. +Nothing, however, could he elicit, except that, as so many Government +men were about at that time, the smugglers were not likely to be +carrying on a very brisk trade. Still it _was_ carried on, and Captain +Bargood was, it was said, as busy as ever. + +He next visited Boyton and Sudbourn, and Orford. He lodged at the +Mariner's Compass, then kept by an old weather-beaten sailor, who often +put him across from the quay on the banks of the Alde, to the North +Vere; and here he used to spend so many hours, that the coastguard, who +kept a watch upon his movements, suspected that his countryman's dress +was only a ruse to hide some sinister intention. They observed, however, +that he did not avoid them, but rather sought opportunity for their +acquaintance. A more dreary place than this North Vere is scarcely to be +found on all the coast of Great Britain. It is a mass of shingle nearly +twenty miles long, in some places nearly a mile broad, in others, only a +few hundred yards. This wall of pebbles separates the river Alde from +the ocean. The bank reaches from Hollesley Bay to Aldeburgh. The sea and +the river are very deep along the shelving banks on either side. + +Thousands upon thousands of sea-birds build, or rather lay their eggs, +upon this desolate bed of shingle. A few wild, straggling plants of +seakale, and very long, thin, sickly spires of grass, occasionally shoot +up through the stones; but there is no other vegetation, except here and +there in some few hollows in this desert of stones, where a little clay, +mixed with the sea-fowl dung, formed a green patch. These spots used to +be much frequented by smugglers, which, from their sunken situations, +used to hide both them and their goods from view. Nothing prominent can +be seen for miles round this coast, except the Orford lights, which +stand conspicuous enough about midway between Hollesley and Aldeburgh. + +The poor fellows who acted as preventive-service men in the coastguard +had no sinecure in this dreadful situation. The sun burnt them by day, +and the wind, from whatever quarter it blew, and especially in the +winter nights, was cutting and cold; and from the exposure between two +waters, the sea and the river, it roared like the discharge of +batteries. In some of the hollows these poor men used to construct huts +of such rude materials as came to hand; old pieces of wrecks, or +broken-up boats, which they covered with seaweed, collected after a +storm. These served to break the east winds which blew over the German +Ocean, in their terrible night-watches, which they were forced to keep +pretty constantly, as they were watched, though they were watchers. Many +were the desperate struggles upon this wild beach between these brave +men and the smugglers, in which hard fighting, and too often +death-blows, told the desperate nature of the service. + +"Well, my man, what brings you upon this coast?" said one of the +officers to Edward Catchpole, as he was sauntering lazily along the +seaside. + +"Oh," replied Edward, "I have got a holiday, and I wish to spend a day +or two by the seaside." + +"A day or two! Why you have been here six days, and you have been +staying at Hollesley, and Boyton, and Felixstowe. Come, come, young man, +you are up to some work which may get you into trouble. You had better +take my advice, and sheer off." + +"I have no unlawful calling; if I had, I might deserve your scrutiny. +You think, perhaps, that I am connected with smugglers, and am here for +the purpose of giving them information. I am, however, much more +desirous of receiving than of giving information. I never saw a +smuggler's boat in my life. You suspect me, I see; but what of?--tell +me." + +"I ought to be suspicious of the truth of what you tell me. But I never +saw you before, and your looks do not betray deceit." + +"Are you sure you never saw me before? Perhaps you may be mistaken. I +have seen you before to-day, and have spoken to you before this day. I +know you, if you do not know me." + +"I certainly do not know you, and assuredly have never spoken to you +till now. My memory is pretty accurate as to persons and faces, yet +neither the one nor the other are familiar to me in you." + +"Your face is familiar to me. I never saw you more than twice, and then +you spoke to me, and very kindly too." + +"You certainly puzzle me. What is your name, and whence do you come?" + +"You are Edward Barry, and I am Edward Catchpole. Do you remember the +lad that drove his sister down to the boat-house at Bawdsey?" + +"Yes, I remember you now, though you are greatly changed. But what +brings you here?" + +"That which keeps you here night and day! I am upon the look-out for the +smugglers." + +"You may look a long time if you are looking for Will Laud. Do you not +know that he is in the British navy?" + +"I knew that he was so, but I do not know that he is. My sister told me +if I met you to make you acquainted with her trials, and to ask your +assistance." + +Here the young man told him the events which had taken place, and her +fears that Laud had returned to his old career. + +"I do not think he has. His old companions are as active as ever; but I +heard that he had split with them, and that, when he was taken by the +pressgang, he was quarrelling with Luff, who, as I understood, escaped, +and swore to finish his work upon Laud whenever he could catch him. +There is not a man among us but would run any risk to deliver that +fellow up to justice. We have had orders from Government to secure him +if we can, and the reward is extended to us. He is a daring wretch, and +knowing, as he must do, our determination to take him, it is my +conviction that he will never be taken alive. But, if you wish to see a +bit of sharp work, we have got information that he is now off this +coast, preparing to land a cargo on the Vere. If you have a mind to lend +a hand to take him, you can be of great service to us, without running +much danger in work that you are not accustomed to." + +"That I will do gladly." + +"Well, now listen. You cannot walk five hundred yards along the brow of +the beach without meeting one of my men. They are all upon the shore in +readiness, and have had their eyes upon you, though you have not seen +them. Look along the line of the coast against the upper ridge of +shingle at the spring-tide mark,--you see nothing. If you walk along +that line five hundred yards from where you stand, you will see a head +pop up from the shingle and salute you. They are placed there, and have +buried themselves in the shingle on purpose to watch your motions. You +are suspected to be the person appointed to hoist a white flag, +opposite Havergate Island, as a signal that the boat may come ashore. I +implicitly believe what you have told me of yourself, and, if you will +assist me, I will in return render you all the assistance I can in +search of your object." + +"I will do anything you appoint me to do within my power." + +"I ask nothing of you, but what you can easily perform. Remember the +watchword which I now give you. It is 'King George for ever,' an +expression you must use if any of my men salute you. What I want you to +do is, to pass along the whole line in the direction of the spring-tide +mark, which is the highest point that the tide reaches. Every five +hundred yards you will find yourself spoken to by one of my men, who +will say, 'Who goes there?' Do you reply, 'King George for ever!' They +will say 'Hurrah! pass on.' You will find fourteen men, which will tell +you that four miles of this coast is strictly guarded to-night. Pass +along the whole line; but note when you come to the seventh man, and lay +this pole, and white flag which is bound to it, about twenty yards on +this side of him. You will observe that, at that point, a tall poplar +tree in Sudbourn Grove, on the horizon, will be in a direct line with +you and the Shepherd's Cottage on Havergate Island. Leave the flag-pole +there until you return from going the whole line. Take this keg over +your shoulder, and replenish every man's can as you pass along, for they +will have sharp work to-night, and it is cold work lying in suspense. As +you come back from the line, unfurl the flag, and fix the staff strongly +in the ground. The wind blows off-shore, and will soon carry it +streaming outward. It will then be your duty to take up your position at +a respectful distance from the spot, and see that no one from the land +removes the flag. I strongly suspect that the old shepherd, who lives in +the Red Cottage on Havergate Island, is the man who will come to remove +it if he can. If you can secure him without our aid, so much the +better; but if not, just put your lips to this whistle which I give you, +and assistance will be close at hand. At all events, the old fellow must +be secured, and carried back to his cottage, and be bound to his bed. +And you must remain with him until night draws on. Then put the old +man's light, an oil lamp, which you will find standing under the bed, +into the little window looking towards the sea, which is at the +gable-end to the east. + +"Then you must come over again with his boat, and mind and shove her the +full length of her moorings into the water before you fix her anchor on +the shore, or the falling tide will leave her high and dry. Then return +to the place, where you can bury yourself in the shingle. If I mistake +not, as soon as the moon is high, you will see a boat come ashore with a +cargo. There is a dell not far off the flag, to which they will probably +carry all their tubs. You must not be seen by them. You will easily see +how my men manage to hide themselves. Now be very particular in noting +what I tell you, or the lives of many may be forfeited. After the men +have landed their goods, two of them will go across to the river, to see +if the shepherd's boat is moored ready for them. When they come back, +you will hear them say 'Up! all's right!' They will then each take up +his burden, and proceed with it to the river's side. I expect there will +be ten or twelve of them. As soon as they are all fairly out of the +dell, do you give a good loud long whistle. By this time, my men, who +will have seen the boat coming ashore, will be getting on their hands +and knees close up to you. The smugglers will throw down their loads, +and hasten to their boat; we shall be ready to receive them. But, +whatever you do, lie still, and you will be out of danger; and if you +have a mind to see what a battle is, you will have a good view of it. I +do not ask you to risk your life, you will probably see some of us +killed, and should I be among the number, just remember, that in the +bottom of my cartridge-box there is a letter to my sister, which I will +get you to deliver. Do you think you fully understand me? and are you +now willing to help us? It is singular that I should find in you the +very instrument we wanted. I was about to have you secured, and to +perform the part myself; but ten to one if the old shepherd saw me, but +he would smell powder, and keep at home; but, seeing you a country +youth, he will not mind you, but will come to the scratch. You see how +much depends upon your courage." + +Young Edward Catchpole had long made up his mind, notwithstanding all +the danger, to run any risk sooner than give up the enterprise; like his +sister he possessed great personal courage, and was quick, intelligent, +and active. He also looked upon the cause as a good one; it was for his +king and country, and for a sister whom he loved. He had given up the +idea of meeting with Laud, and thought only of securing the vile +assassin whose crimes had reached such an enormous pitch. He entered +upon his commission immediately, pursued his career along the high-water +mark of the beach, and, true enough, about every five hundred yards, a +head popped up from the shingle, with, "Who goes there?" "King George +for ever!" was the answer; and "That's right, my hearty, we'll drink his +health if you please," was the hint for the young man to replenish the +brave sailor's can. He noted the seventh man; there he left the flag and +staff, and proceeded on the whole length of the line. As he returned he +placed the pole firmly into the deep shingle, and unfurled the white +sheet, which soon formed a most conspicuous streamer in the air. He then +quietly secreted himself in the manner he had been shown by one of the +men, by working his body into the shingle, and letting the larger stones +fall over him until he was completely covered, save his head. It was not +long before a sail, which had been seen in the distance, now kept +standing off and on in the offing. But now came his own work. + +About an hour after the flag had been unfurled, Edward plainly heard the +bleating of sheep, and saw a shepherd driving a score of sheep +leisurely along towards the flag, apparently watching his sheep cropping +the scant herbage of the North Vere. As he came whistling on, and +approached the staff, looking cautiously around him, Edward thought it +was time to commence proceedings, especially as the old man laid hold of +the flagstaff to unship it. He jumped up, and called to the shepherd,-- + +"I say, old boy, let that bell wether of mine alone, will you?" + +The shepherd started, and left the staff, and approached the young man. + +"What do you put that flag there for, young man?" + +"Because such are my orders." + +"But suppose I wish to have that flag for a sheet for my bed to-night, +who shall prevent it?" + +"I will." + +"Why, I could lick half a dozen such fellows as you, with one arm." + +"Maybe so--but come, now, let's have a fair trial of strength. Lay down +your crook between us, and see if you or I can pull the other over it. +If you succeed, then take the flag. If I, then you must take yourself +off how you can." + +"Done," said the shepherd--"it shall be a bargain;" and he threw his +crook down on the ground. "Now for it, young man." + +Accordingly, they approached each other. Young Edward saw that he had a +formidable antagonist to contend with, a brawny, sinewy frame, full of +compact strength, and more than an equal match for his youth; but he +resolved not to give the whistle, if he could overcome the man any how +by himself. + +"Stop," said Edward; "you have laid the crook so as to give yourself the +upper hand: that is not fair. Lay it down from sea to river, so that we +both have the same chance in the slant. I'll show you what I mean." + +And the young man showed him in a moment what he meant; for, taking up +the crook, and stooping down to place it as he had said, with a +shepherd's dexterity (for the reader will remember that the youth was +also a shepherd) he swung it round the ankle of the old man, and at the +same instant gave it such a jerk, as pitched him backwards upon his +head, which came with such violence upon the stones, that he was +completely stunned. Edward was for a moment fearful that he was dead; +but conjecturing, very wisely, that he might revive, he took out of his +wallet the old man's sheep-cords (strong thongs which shepherds use when +they dress their sheep, or such as sheep-shearers use when they clip +them), and, without more ado, he tied his hands and legs together behind +him, so that he was completely pinioned. + +It was well that young Catchpole had taken this advantage and +precaution; for, upon searching the inner pocket of the wallet, he found +a brace of pistols, primed and loaded, which would have made the contest +very uneven. As the old man shortly began to revive, he called out most +lustily for help. + +"Hold your tongue," said Edward, "or I will shoot you dead with your own +pistols! Lie still, and no one will hurt you. What should an honest man, +in your calling, do with such weapons as these?" + +The old fellow was soon convinced that he had to deal with as good a +hand as his own; and one as expert at catching a ram, too. His arms and +legs were tied in such a scientific manner, as convinced him that the +young man was a shepherd. He thought it best, therefore, to bear his +present condition silently. + +"Come along, old boy," said the youth, as he stuck the shepherd's crook +under the cords, and began dragging him along towards his boat; "I'll +ease you down to the river." + +"Take care you are not eased down yourself," said the old man. "I have +friends, who will give you your deserts before long, and ease me of +these clutches." + +"I'll tell you what you deserve, old man; and what, if the coastguard +suffer to-night, you will receive. You deserve to be thrown into the +river as you are; and if I have many words with you, and you refuse to +give me a plain direction and answer to whatever question I put to you, +you may depend upon it I will do it myself; and that will soon settle +all disputes between us. You have had in your wallet, pistols; your +crook would make a flagstaff; and I find, upon dragging you along, that, +as your jacket buttons give way, you have half a sheet round your body. +Tell me, when did you intend to give the smugglers the signal? It will +do you no good to tell me a lie. You have seen enough to be convinced I +understand what you are. You had better tell me the truth at once, or a +cold salt-water bath will compel you to do so." + +"Not to-night!--not to-night!" + +"Why not to-night?" + +"Because the coastguard are upon the watch." + +As they proceeded on their way, Edward asked the old man, "Do you expect +Captains Laud or Luff to-night? You may as well tell me; for you must be +pretty well convinced, by this time, that I know what is going on." + +"Well--I expect Captain Luff. Laud is dead." + +The young man fairly dropped the crook, as he repeated Maud's +words--"Laud is dead! Laud is dead!--How do you know that?" + +"If you will unbind me, I will tell you all about it." + +"Perhaps I may, when you tell me how and where he died, and show me what +proof you have of his death." + +"Will you unbind me then?" + +"Yes; when I think you have been bound long enough." + +"These thongs cut me sore." + +"How can that be? they are too broad to cut; and if you do not attempt +to draw your hands asunder, you know, as well as I do, that the knot is +tied so that they cannot hurt you. I see, by your keeping your hands +close together, that they do not hurt you." + +They had now arrived at the river's side, where a large ferry-boat, such +as is used to carry stock over from the mainland to the island, was +moored against the shore. Edward lifted the old man into the +broad-bottomed craft, and laying him down upon the boards, pulled up +the anchor, and shoved off towards the island. The old man soon +perceived that Edward was no sailor, by the manner in which he managed, +or rather mismanaged the boat; and truly this was the hardest work the +young man had yet to perform. He had been so taken up with the thought +of doing everything he was commissioned to do, and in his pride so +determined to do it all himself, without help, that he had overlooked +his greatest difficulty, and forgot that he should want assistance to +row the boat. He still did not use his whistle; but, with very great +exertion, and very awkward management, contrived to bring the boat to +the island, and to shove her along the side of the marsh wall, to a +creek, close by the shepherd's house. He then lifted the old man out of +the boat, and dragged him up the mud wall, and laid him down at his +cottage door. The door was locked; and, in the scuffle, the key of it +had fallen out of the old man's pocket; and Edward was obliged to make +his way in at a low window behind the house; when, having forced back +the bolt, he pulled the old man in, and lifted him on to a bed, which +was in the room adjoining, and took a seat by his side. + +"I'm both hungry and thirsty after all my exertions; have you any +refreshment of any kind in this comfortable dwelling?" + +"You will find plenty in the closet by the fireplace. I wish I could eat +and drink with you." + +"So you may, and I will feed you as if you were my cosset lamb." + +He soon found that the shepherd's cottage contained sufficient to +recruit the spirits of any man whose stomach was not too proud for +wholesome food. There was a slice of cold boiled bacon, and bread and +cheese in plenty. There was brandy, too, but very bad water; and it +required something stronger than tea to take off the brackish taste; +brandy alone could make it palatable for man. The cattle sometimes +suffered by drinking it. The young shepherd fed the old one, whose +muscular limbs were now as powerless as an infant's; not from second +childhood, but from the dexterity with which they were bound together. +There was something of kindness in the young man's manner, though he was +justified, in self-defence, to take the advantage he had done. + +"Now," said he, "tell me how you know Captain Laud is dead?" + +"Captain Luff told me so." + +"And is that all you know of it? Have you no other proof?" + +"Yes; I have the captain's watch, which Luff gave to me, and the case of +it has his true-love's name engraved in the inside. The watch is in the +old plum-tree box, in the cupboard." + +The young man eagerly examined the spot. He found the box, and in it the +watch, with both names engraved on the inside of the case, shining as +bright, and the engraving as sharp, as if it had been executed only that +very day. "William Laud and Margaret Catchpole," round the interior +circumference, and "June 1st, 1794," with a wreath of victory +surrounding it, in the centre. + +"All this is correct, as you say; but how did he die?" + +"Well, I will tell you all I know. Captain Luff (if you do not know him, +I do) is a most desperate fellow; a price is set upon his head, dead or +alive, so that it be but taken. Well, he murdered the poor girl whose +name is written in the watch; and I firmly believe that he murdered +Captain Laud too! Towards the close of the last year I was upon Sudbourn +Heath, keeping my sheep, and who should I meet but Captain Luff, who +accosted me with this question:-- + +"'Have you seen my young commander, Captain Laud, pass this way?' + +"Well, it was a curious question, and quite natural too; for about six +o'clock that very morning, as I was taking my sheep out of the fold, who +should pass by me but the gallant young fellow whom he inquired after? +Singularly enough he asked after Luff, and whether I knew if he was upon +the coast. I told him that I had not had any signals lately; but that +some of the crew were ashore, and were staying at the Mariner's Compass, +at Orford. Well, I told Luff the same as I now tell you; and he no +sooner received the intelligence, than with all the eagerness of a +blood-hound when he touches upon the scent of his victim, he was off for +Orford in a moment. Well, I thought this was all for old acquaintance' +sake, or for business; so I rather rejoiced in the adventure. That very +night I had made an appointment to take some game; and as I went up the +Gap Lane, leading to the Heath, I heard angry words, and soon found the +two captains at variance. I had no wish, as you may suppose, to +interfere with their strife, so I quietly laid myself up in the ferns. +It was a dreadful sound to hear the thunder of those two men's voices. +How they cursed each other! At length I heard the report of two pistols, +and one of the balls passed within a yard of my head, but as for blows, +I could not count them. They fought each other like two bull-dogs, I +should say for near an hour, till I heard the snap and jingle of a +broken sword, and then one of them fled. I found the broken part of the +blade next morning close to the spot. It was red with blood; and the +marks of feet in the sand were as numerous as if twenty men had been +contending. I found drops of blood sunk into the sand all the way down +the lane, until you come to the marshes: here I lost the track. I have +seen no more of Laud since. But what makes me think that he was killed +by Luff on that night is the after-behaviour of the captain. About two +months after this occurrence I received a signal from the North Vere; +and who should it be but Luff. Well, he came home to my cottage, and as +we sat together I said, by way of a sounder, 'Where's Captain Laud?' + +"'What makes you ask that question?' says he, hastily and fiercely. +'Have you any particular reason for asking me after him? Speak out at +once,' says he,--'speak out; have you heard anything about him?' + +"The terrific glare of the fiend's eye fell upon me so cruelly that I +dared not tell him I had witnessed the fight, so I said, 'I have not +seen the captain for so long a time, that I did not know where he was.' + +"'Ho! ho! that's it, is it?' says he. 'Have you seen him since the +morning you fed your sheep on Sudbourn Heath?' + +"'No,' says I; 'he was then anxious to see you. Did you find him?' + +"'Yes, I did; and I have reason to think he was lost at sea that very +night; for he agreed to come on board, and we have seen nothing more of +him, nor two of our crew, since that very time. Two of my men were in +the river boat, but I have seen nothing of them since. They were to have +joined the crew off the head of the North Vere, but we never saw them +again.' + +"'That's very odd,' says I; 'but how did you join the crew?' + +"'I got a cast down the river in Master Mannell's boat, the old +fisherman of Boyton.' + +"Then, after a pause, + +"'Here, Jim,' says he, 'I'll make you a present of poor Will's watch. I +do not like to wear it; it grieves me when I look at it. We used to be +such friends.' + +"Now I thought this very strange, and it confirmed me in the opinion +that his conscience would not let him rest. I took the watch, and you +have now got it in your hand." + +"What shall I give you for this watch?" said Edward. + +"What you like; for ever since I have had it, it has appeared to me as +if I was an accomplice in Captain Laud's murder." + +"I will give you half a guinea." + +"Well, it is yours." + +"I will put the money into the box in the cupboard. Time now wears away. +What are all these pieces of wood for?" + +"They are tholes for the boat, when the smugglers use it." + +"With your permission I will take them with me. Have you any oars for +them also?" + +"No! the smugglers bring their own oars." + +"Well, I must be moving; and now since you have told me the truth, and I +have every reason to thank you, I will candidly tell you who I am: I am +Margaret Catchpole's brother." + +"You are a shepherd, then?" + +"I am a shepherd." + +"I was sure of it by the manner in which you used these thongs. May I +ask, is your sister dead?" + +"She is not dead. How many men do you expect from the lugger when they +land?" + +"Ten, with the captain." + +"Well, lie you still now. I must, for the sake of fulfilling the orders +of my commander, fasten your cords to the bedstead, or I may be blamed. +So: that will do. Now, should the captain himself come to see you, he +will be convinced that the foul play was not your part; and if he does +not come to-night, I will. But time presses, and I must do my duty. +Where is your lamp?" + +"I see by your question," said the old man, "that all is discovered. You +want the lamp to put in the window upstairs; you will find it under the +bed." + +There it was, and was soon lighted and put in its proper place: a joyful +signal of success to the brave and patient coastguard, and a fatal lure +to the desperadoes on board the smuggler. + +"Now then, old friend, good-bye," said Edward. "If success attend our +scheme you and I may be better acquainted; you may be glad that you have +told me all the truth. Farewell." + +The youth was soon on board the ferry-boat; and with much labour brought +her to the same spot where he had before unmoored her. The tide had +fallen some feet, and was near its last ebb, so that he very wisely drew +her up as high as he could on to the shore, concluding that if he +anchored her in the water when the tide flowed again, which it would +soon do, it would cover the anchor on the shore. He drew her up far +enough just to place her cable's end at high-water mark; and having put +the tholes in their proper places, he then walked across to the white +flag. Just before he passed the dell, who should lift up his head but +young Barry! + +"I began to think our plan had not succeeded. Is all right?" + +"All is as you could wish it, and more; but I will tell you all another +time." + +"We can see the lugger," said young Barry, "standing off and on: our +white flag is successful. You must go to the right, so as to lay +yourself in such a position as to command a view of this little dell and +the river. Bring yourself to anchor full a hundred yards from this hole, +for I suspect the fight will be here; keep your head below the ocean +mark when you give the signal, or a few bullets may whistle about your +ears." + +Only those who have had anything to do with the preventive service can +tell the dangers and difficulties which the poor fellows who defend our +trade have to encounter; how much toil and anxiety, and how seldom +sufficient honour or reward do such men gain in discharging their +onerous duty. It is a life of feverish vexation. Fancy fourteen men +collected and stationed along four miles of coast the whole day, buried +in the pebbles, and waiting on a cold night for the approach of the +smuggler. They all saw the vessel reconnoitring and sailing about the +offing: the least want of circumspection on their part would thwart the +scheme which up to this moment promised success. Even the men accustomed +to this kind of work shook with the anxiety of suspense; but what must +have been the sensations of the young landsman who had to give the +signal for the onset, in which more than one might fall? To say that he +did not suffer severely, enough almost to make him wish himself at home, +would not be true; the thought, however, that he might be instrumental +in bringing the villain Luff to justice for all his crimes, and the +singular manner in which he had discovered his treachery to Laud, made +the young man some amends for the truly painful task he had undertaken. + +Night now began to draw on, and the sea-birds left off their screaming; +the tern and the dottrell hastened to their resting-places; and the last +of all the feathered sea-shore tribe, the one which goes to roost the +latest, the grey curlew, bent his rapid wing toward Havergate Island, +and gave a mournful note as he flapped over the head of the young +watchman. As the moon arose the wind began to blow a little fresh, and +the ocean to roar upon the beach. The smugglers rejoiced at this, as it +would enable them to land their cargo with less chance of being heard. +The flag still streamed and flapped in the wind; the light shone like a +star in the shepherd's cot; and the time drew near for the contest. + +Not a sound could be now heard save that of the wind. The vessel, +however, might be seen in the moonlight, approaching the shore; and now +a heavy eight-oared boat was seen to leave her: she was heavily laden, +even to the gunwale. The boat lurched through the breakers like a log. +On she came, with her helmsman, John Luff, who laid her broadside on to +the shore. Now for an anxious moment. Not a word was spoken. The wind +preventing any sound along the shore, nothing could be heard even of the +grounding of the boat's keel upon the beach. Dark figures of men were +seen getting out of the boat. They were expert sailors, up to their +work; as the sea heaved the boat up, they dragged her higher on the +shore, until they could more conveniently unload her. This was done as +expeditiously as possible; each man carried a sack heavily laden. They +went to the very spot that Barry had named, deposited their load, and +again returned to their boat. Twice they performed this work; and now +the two last men, carrying the eight oars, brought up the rear. The +eight quietly seated themselves on the sacks, whilst the other two went +forward with the oars; they returned, and, as young Edward concluded, +must have said, "All's right." + +By this time the coastguard were drawing their lines closer to the spot, +each man taking up his brother, or calling on him as he passed him, +until the whole fourteen were within the space of ten yards from the +flag; breathless, on their knees did they await the shrill whistle +which, like the trumpet's sound, was to give the word for the charge. + +Young Catchpole saw the smugglers emerge from the dell, with each man +his sack upon his shoulder; for an instant he thought he ought to wait +until they came the second time, but as his orders did not say so, and +he judged that if they once stowed away half their cargo they would make +quickly for the river, he deemed it best to give the signal at once; so +drawing in his breath, he gave the whistle such a long, shrill blast, +that had the wind lain that way it might have been heard to Orford. He +did not raise himself up, and it was well he did not, for over his head +whizzed a ball, and flash--flash--flash went the pistols. As was +predicted the men dropped their cargoes, and ran for the pit, but here +stood the coastguard ready to receive them, young Barry having brought +his men down below the horizon of the sea, that they might not be +exposed to the sight of the smugglers, whilst the river lying lower, and +they ascending from it, became a visible mark against the moonlit water +for their fire. + +Dreadful was the contest that ensued. The smugglers formed a close line: +the coastguard line was more measured, and with some spaces between each +two men, so that their danger was the less. The firing, as they +approached each other, was awful; two men of the smugglers fell. They +closed nearer, and swords clashed and sparkled in the moonlight; and the +uproar at length became more audible than the noise of the wind and +waves. At last there was one sudden, tremendous yell from the boat's +crew, and then the cry for quarter; some fell, others fled, not to the +boat but along the coast. It was the object of the coastguard not to +pursue them so far as to separate from each other; and as three fled one +way, and two another, they merely sent flying shots after them, and +cleared a passage to the boat. The shout announced the leader of the +smugglers to be shot, and two more were lying by his side, and two +surrendered, and were disarmed and guarded, whilst but one of the +coastguard had fallen. + +As the enemy was dispersed young Barry mustered his men, and missed his +comrade. They found him near the two smugglers who had first fallen. +Close to them lay the captain, his arm nearly cut in two, shot in the +side, and severely wounded on the head. Young Edward, who had seen the +fight, now came forward to render further assistance. The two smugglers +were dead; but the preventive-service man and the captain of the crew +were not dead, though both were severely wounded. + +The two wounded men were taken to the shepherd's cottage. Four men, with +Barry and young Edward, rowed across to the island, whilst ten men were +left to guard the prisoners and the cargo, and to secure the smugglers' +boat. The whole proved to be a most valuable prize. + +The captain, as the reader may suppose, proved to be no other than the +hated John Luff. The old shepherd was released by young Catchpole, and +from cramp and pain from his long doubled-up position he could scarcely +stand. The two wounded men were placed upon his bed, presenting such a +contrast of feature, expression, and character, as the ablest artist in +the world could not have justly delineated. Luff, with his dark brow, +haggard eye, and hairy face, looking like a dying hyena, looked up and +saw before him, Barry, Catchpole, and the shepherd; and with the scowl +of revenge (a strong passion to exhibit in such agony), he muttered a +dreadful curse upon them all. The poor coastguard man, with his pale but +placid countenance, though suffering severely from his wounds, extended +his hands to his commander, and implored him to let him be carried to +another bed, to let him lie on the floor in the other room, or anywhere +but head to head beside the demon who lay shuddering and cursing by his +side. + +The bed of the shepherd's daughter, who was at that time staying at +Orford, was brought down and laid in the keeping-room beside the +fireplace, and the poor fellow was laid upon it. Luff's death-hour was +evidently at hand. It was a fearful thing to see him in his horrible +tortures, and to hear him, in his groans and moans, proclaiming himself +the murderer of Will Laud. Whenever he opened his eyes he saw nothing +but the evidences of guilt before him, as he raved in wild frenzy,-- + +"There! there! there! I see him! He is not dead!--no! no! no! There's +Laud and Margaret Catchpole! Look! they laugh at me!" + +At last, with one wild scream, his spirit, like an affrighted bird, fled +away. Never did those who stood near him witness such a death. A cold +shudder crept over their flesh, and they owned one to another that they +should never forget that awful sight. + +When it became known that the notorious smuggler, John Luff, was killed, +numbers came to see him; and few that saw his body but owned that he was +a fearful fellow when living. Government paid the reward over into the +hands of the coastguard, who all subscribed liberally towards the +comfort of their wounded messmate. Edward Catchpole was included among +those who shared the reward, and this enabled him to pay all his +expenses without any recurrence to his sister's purse. + +When young Catchpole returned to Nacton with the eventful tidings of his +journey, and related all the particulars to Margaret, stating his full +belief of Laud's death, she pondered for a while over his statement, and +then expressed her dissent from her brother's conclusions. + +"I see no certain proof of Laud's death," said she. "The old shepherd +and the wretch Luff, may both have supposed him dead; but there is a +mystery not yet cleared up which fills me with strange hopes--I mean the +sudden disappearance of the two sailors with the boat that very night. +Luff made no mention of them in his dying moments. I really think these +two men are somehow connected with the safety of Laud; and I yet have +hope." + +She rejoiced, however, that Laud was not found in company with his +former band, and especially with that bad man Luff; and drew +conclusions, in her own mind, favourable to his character and conduct. +She was very grateful to her brother; and not long afterwards she +proposed to return to her place. She had certainly been very remiss in +not communicating with her mistress once since she left her. So taken up +was she with her thoughts of Laud, that she forgot her situation; and, +until her brother's return, had never spoken of going back to Ipswich. +Her mistress not hearing of or from her, sent over to Brandiston, and +there learned that she had never been to see her uncle and aunt, nor had +they heard anything of her. A man was sent to Nacton, and, +unfortunately, the cottage was locked up, as Margaret had been that day +to spend a few hours with her first mistress, at the Priory Farm. These +strange circumstances made her mistress at Ipswich conclude that she was +gone in search of Laud; and consequently she engaged another servant. +When Margaret returned to St. Margaret's Green she found her place +filled up; and her mistress reproached her for her neglect in not having +had some communication with her. Margaret felt hurt and disappointed. +She stayed a short time at one or two places, but was extremely +unsettled and dissatisfied. She was in the habit of frequently visiting +St. Margaret's Green, and of being asked to go and see the children. +About eight months after a vacancy unexpectedly occurred in Mrs. +Cobbold's establishment, and Margaret entered a second time into the +service of her former mistress, in the capacity of cook; but her stay +this time was short. She was now as unlike as possible to the Margaret +of former days. She was not happy. Her temper had been soured by +disappointment, and her spirit made restless by rumours of Laud being +alive. She became impatient towards her fellow-servants, careless in her +dress and manner, and negligent in her work--a complete contrast to her +former self, who had been a pattern of order, decency, and regularity. +At the end of one year, it became her mistress's painful duty to give +her a final warning. It was a real heartfelt sorrow to that benevolent +lady to be compelled, for the sake of example to her other servants, to +discharge Margaret. But she could not do otherwise. + +Here was a painful duty discharged conscientiously. Let not the reader +think that it made no impression. It fell with full force upon +Margaret's mind. Margaret wept most bitterly when she found that she +must now break off all connexion with that family in which she had once +been so happy. She merely asked permission to remain till the end of the +week, and that in such a subdued tone and supplicating manner, as +touched her mistress's heart. It is needless to say that her request was +granted. + +The morning of departure arrived, and not a servant, no, nor a child in +that house, could say "Good-bye" without tears. Her mistress, when +handing over to her the money directed to her by Laud, made Margaret sit +down, and conversed with her upon her future prospects. She also gave +her some good books for a remembrance, expressed a hope that she would +read them, and told her she should forget all but her good deeds, and be +ever ready to serve her. + +Then, with tears rolling down her cheeks, Margaret tottered to the cart +which had been provided to take her to Brandiston, and left that house +never to enter it again, and never to look upon it without terror. + +The author cannot help introducing at the close of this chapter an +authenticated document, which has been sent to him from Reading, in +Berkshire. It is the testimony of a man still living, who has never +forgotten Margaret Catchpole: and the reader will say he had good reason +to remember her. This man now lives in the service of Mr. John Snare, +No. 16 Minster Street, Reading; and, since the publication of the former +edition of this work, has made known to his master a providential escape +which he had in his infancy, through the intrepidity of this +extraordinary woman. Poor Margaret! it is with inexpressible pleasure +that the author transcribes this tribute to her memory; for it proves to +him, that whatever was the cause of her unsettled state of mind, her +noble spirit was still as prompt to hear the cry of the helpless as in +her days of confidence and comfort with her beloved mistress. The author +is indebted to the Rev. John Connop, Bradfield Hall, Reading, for the +original document, which he now gives to the public; and which he is +happy to add, is fully confirmed by persons now living at Ipswich. + + _The Declaration of William White, of Reading, in Berkshire._ + + "My parents lived on St. Margaret's Green, St. Margaret's parish, + Ipswich, about five doors from the house of John Cobbold, Esq. + Margaret Catchpole was then living in Mr. Cobbold's service as + cook. About the middle of the spring of 1797, I, being then a child + about six years of age, was playing on the Green with many of the + neighbours' children; and in the midst of our sport, a mad bull + rushed most furiously towards us, directing his attack upon our + little group to the precise spot where I stood. Paralysed by fear + and surprise, I saw no hope of safety in flight, and must have + fallen a victim to the assault of the infuriated beast, had not my + companions set up a cry of alarm. At this critical moment, Margaret + Catchpole rushed out of Mr. Cobbold's house, to ascertain the cause + of the disturbance, and had the courage to fly in the face of the + bull, just as he was in the act of tossing me. Indeed I was + slightly gored by him, and must inevitably have been severely + injured, had not this courageous woman snatched me up, and carried + me into Mr. Cobbold's kitchen, taking every care of me until my + parents arrived. + + "I was not seriously hurt, but I have been told that my bruises and + scars did not disappear for several weeks; and during this time I + was visited by Margaret Catchpole and Mrs. Cobbold, who both took + great notice of me, and evinced great anxiety for my recovery. + + "I remember that this courageous act of Margaret Catchpole's was + much talked of at the time, and the Rev. Mr. Fonnereau, the rector + of St. Margaret's, took much interest in the affair; so much, + indeed, did he think of it, that on my marriage in 1817, he, being + still the rector, and performing the ceremony, reminded me of the + extraordinary circumstance which had occurred in my childhood, and + of my providential escape from an early grave. + + "My uncle, Samuel Bayley (my mother's brother), was cooper and + brewer to J. Cobbold, Esq., being in his employment at the Cliff + Brewery, near Ipswich, at the time the above occurred. + + "William White. + + "Reading, February 18th, 1847." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +GUILT AND CRIME + + +The reader will be anxious to know what really was the fate of Will +Laud, and will not be surprised to learn that Margaret's idea was quite +in accordance with the fact. When Luff quitted the old shepherd upon +Sudbourn Heath, in search of Laud, he was prepared to find him at the +Compasses at Orford, and there he did find him, and he pretended to be +glad to see him, and to be very friendly with him. All former +animosities seemed to be extinct; and Luff quickly wormed out of him +the secrets of his heart. He asked after Margaret with as much apparent +indifference as if he had heard nothing of her. + +"I have left her for ever," said Laud. "I will have nothing more to do +with her. Some more powerful enemy than I have ever contended with has +at last prevailed over me, and pulled down the proud flag I had hoisted +in her love. I heard her say, almost to my face, that she would never +see another sailor, though she must have been expecting me home, for I +sent her word by an old messmate that I was coming; and what could she +mean, but to let me know flatly that she preferred some lubberly +landsman (perhaps some powdered footman) to one of Lord Howe's Britons? +I could stand it no longer, so I just threw all my prize-money +overboard; and here I am, Jack, ready to join your crew again. Have you +forgotten our last rub? Come, give us your hand, Jack." + +Luff put out his blood-stained palm, and pretended all the peace of a +restored friendship. Grog was ordered; and the two easily struck a +bargain to go on board again in the service of Captain Bargood. But Luff +was too determined a villain to forgo that opportunity, which now +offered itself, of fulfilling the deadly purpose he had often sworn to +his crew that he would accomplish, "to bring Laud a captive, dead or +alive, on board the brig." The treacherous fellow had left no stone +unturned to bring about this plan. It was he who pursued such a system +of fraud with regard to Margaret as led to her disgrace. He hired +sailors to deceive her with false tales, and to learn what they could of +Laud, that he might the more easily wreak his vengeance upon his victim. +And now at last here was the object of his hatred, trusting to him as he +would have done to the most tried friend. He was as loud and artful in +his ridicule of Margaret as a determined monster of envy could be. He +had heard, he said, many tales of her; and that she was at last going to +marry one of the brewhouse men. Such were the inventions of this +hollow-hearted villain, to inflame the irritable mind of Laud. There +were two of the crew present, to whom Luff had given the wink, and made +them to understand he had trapped his man. + +"Let us take a bit of a cruise, and have a look at the port," said Luff +to his pretended friend; and then turning to the others, he said, "We +shall be in again presently, and go on board to-night." + +"Aye, aye, master," replied one of the men, "all right!--I say, Sam," +observed he, when the two captains had left the room, "what a shocking +fellow our captain is! I'll wager now that he either puts a bullet +through Laud's head, or a dagger in his heart, or shoves him overboard +at night!" + +"Aye, Jim, I don't mind a brush with the coastguard, but I don't like +such cold-blooded work as this any more than you do. Don't let us wait +for the captain; but, as soon as we have finished our grog, let's be off +for the boat." + +"With all my heart, Sam; and let us drink our young captain's health, +and good luck to him." + +Luff had enticed his captain to a longer walk than he expected; and no +sooner had they entered the Gap Lane than he began a quarrel, and +presently attacked him, sword in hand. Laud defended himself with great +dexterity, until his sword was broken, and he himself disarmed. He fled +towards the marshes, but was overtaken, cut down, and cast for dead into +one of those deep marsh ditches which abound in the neighbourhood of +Orford. After Luff had thus wreaked his vengeance, he crept stealthily +towards the town; and as he went picked up Laud's watch, which had +fallen from his pocket. It made his blood, already heated with exertion, +grow cold with conscious horror. He was too great a villain, however, to +have much thought of mercy, pity, or repentance. He entered the +Compasses and called for a strong north-wester, and inquired for his +men, and learned they had been gone to their boat some time. He gave +them some coarse malediction for their pains, and sat down to his +strong potation. + +The two men were at that time crossing a plank over the very dyke which +Laud had been cast into, and were startled by his groans. On looking +about them they observed a man's head just out of the water, beside the +bank; they pulled him out, and found to their horror that it was Laud. +Having decided on taking him to his uncle's, they lifted Laud up and +carried him across the marshes, and laid him as carefully as they could +upon some old sails at the bottom of the boat; and instead of going down +the river to Hollesley Bay, they rowed directly up the river with the +flood tide. They arrived at Aldborough just as the tide turned, and had +the precaution or prudence, directly they landed, to send their boat +adrift; which, getting into the channel, was carried down the river, and +was cast upon a sand-bank, within a few yards of the smuggler's cutter, +by which means it was supposed that the two men had perished; for at +daybreak, when Luff came on board, he was the first to discover the +boat, keel upwards, upon the bank. + +"It served them right," said the captain, "for leaving their commander +behind them." + +They had safely conveyed Will Laud to the Jolly Tar, which then stood +close to the river's side. His uncle was sent for, who came, attended by +Mr. Nursey, at that time the skilful and highly esteemed surgeon of +Aldborough. He found him dreadfully wounded; but at length, by strict +attention and consummate skill, succeeded in effecting a cure. That +uncle had always loved his nephew, and in some measure considered +himself responsible for the waywardness of his seafaring propensities; +and he took him to his home, and treated him in every respect as a lost +son restored. + +Here, then, was an opportunity--a golden opportunity--for reformation. +Laud's former character had been cancelled by his service in the British +navy; and his gallant conduct on the glorious 1st of June had obtained +for him a free discharge, with prize-money, and certificate of character +in the service. He was now placed in a situation calculated to restore +him to independence. In the years 1795 and 1796 he served his uncle +faithfully; and such were the hopes entertained of his steadiness and +attention to business, that at the end of that year, when his uncle +died, he left him all that he possessed. + +It may seem strange that Laud should never have sought for Margaret +Catchpole during all this time, or that she should not have made further +inquiries about him. Had they met at this period, and come to a mutual +explanation, they might both have been spared from that misery and +remorse attendant upon a degraded character. But it was otherwise +decreed. He had always brooded over his imaginary wrongs at the hands of +Margaret; had learned to think little of her; and never to have forgiven +her for that unfortunate speech the night he left Ipswich. And when he +became a master and a man of substance (as above related), he did not +appear to be settled or happy. The news of Luff's death might have been +supposed to take away from him any hankering after the illicit pursuits +of his youth; but the escape of some of the crew, and their strong +attachment to Laud, induced him to listen to their proposals of service, +and to employ a ship in the trade; and he actually sent out smugglers, +though he would not head them himself; so that, very soon after the +decease of his uncle, Laud became deeply engaged again in the illicit +traffic of the coast. + +But what was Margaret doing all this time? She returned to her uncle and +aunt Leader, and became their assistant. She undertook once more the +management of the children, and was instrumental in restoring order and +decency in the house. She did not feel quite so lively an interest in +this employment as she had formerly done, though her aunt's manner was a +complete contrast to what it had formerly been. By her uncle's advice, +she put the money she never considered her own into the hands of the +much-respected general shopkeeper of the parish, who placed it in the +bank, and became a trustee for her. Still she resolved not to touch it, +but to keep it, as the property of Laud, until she should be more sure +of his death. She had great hopes still that she should one day see him +again. She lived with her uncle and aunt, and made herself useful in +every possible way; nor did she ever murmur at her condition, though she +often sighed over past misfortunes. + +In the month of May, 1797, she received a letter from old George Teager, +her fellow-servant, which ran thus:-- + + "Margaret, + + "This comes hoping it may find you well, as it still leaves me, + though very deaf. I have got a bit of news for you, which I know + you will be glad to hear. I was going down the Wash yesterday, when + who should I meet but Will Laud? He looked uncommon well, and was + very civil to me. He asked me many questions about you; and I set + him right about some bad splints and curbs he had got in his head. + He told me he should soon manage to see you, so no more from old + + "George Teager. + + "Margaret's Green, May 3rd, 1797." + +Imagine poor Margaret's anxiety. She waited seven days in such a state +of feverish suspense as only those so situated can feel. She rested +neither day nor night, but became each morning more anxiously disturbed, +until she determined to go herself to Ipswich. + +Now Laud had been to Ipswich to purchase some timber, and to dispose of +some of his smuggled goods. He had met old Teager, the coachman, and had +treated him with a friendly glass, which the old man seldom refused. He +had also met an old messmate accidentally; a good-for-nothing fellow, +whom Luff had formerly made use of to deceive Margaret with false +reports concerning him. Laud had treated this man to some grog; and in +talking over old times, the man disclosed some of Luff's villainy, with +which Laud had never before been acquainted; especially his conduct to +Margaret on that wretched night in which Laud had sought an interview +with her. This fellow, whose name was John Cook, told him that he was +one of the sailors bribed to deceive her, and to go backwards and +forwards with false reports to the kitchen of St. Margaret's Green. + +Laud now saw the reason for poor Margaret's exclamation, "I will have +nothing more to do with any sailors!" The truth broke on him with such +conviction, that he resolved to seek out his betrothed the very moment +he had fulfilled his engagement at Ipswich. It is a remarkable fact, +that, on the very same day on which Laud left the town with the full +determination to see and have an explanation with Margaret, she +determined to go to Ipswich, to explain (if she could find him) the +whole of her conduct. This was on the evening of the 9th of May, 1797. +She had frankly explained to her uncle the purpose of her journey; and +as to the money in the hands of the trustee, she said, "If a letter +comes to you, from me, about it, you can then consult with Mr. Smith +about its disposal. I fully expect," she added, "to meet Laud at +Ipswich, and whatever his fortunes may be, I am determined to share them +with him." + +She arrived at Ipswich that afternoon, and took up her abode at her +former lodgings at the Widow Syers', a distant relative of her mother's, +though by no means a desirable person for Margaret to abide with at such +a time. She did not go, as she ought to have done, to her good mistress, +who would have instituted every inquiry for her; but she chose to pursue +her own course. She saw the old coachman, and learned from him that he +had seen Laud at the Salutation, in Carr Street, only the day before. +She did not stay to ask any more questions, but off she went towards +the public-house in question. On her way, it was her misfortune to meet +with that vagabond, John Cook, the very fellow who had so often made a +dupe of her before, and who was now the cause of her performing an act +that is probably without precedent in female history. Intent but upon +one thing, the obtaining an interview with her lover, the mainspring of +all her prospects in life, and the centre to which all her hopes, +wishes, thoughts, and cares were pointed, she was almost crazy with +anxiety to see this worthless object of her idolatry. She had been +betrayed into misfortunes by her blindness on this point; and though +careful, prudent, and considerate upon almost every other thing, she had +been, and was still, the easy victim of any artful machination which had +for its bait the sight of her lover. Had she consulted any of her +friends, Mr. Stebbing, Mr. Brooks, Mr. Notcutt, or her beloved mistress, +she would not have fallen a prey to the artful villainy of a wicked man; +but Margaret had forgotten at this time her mistress, and every other +consideration, except the all-engrossing subject which filled her heart; +and she saw neither danger nor difficulty, right nor wrong, but was +ready to go anywhere, or to do anything, provided she could only have an +explanation with Laud. + +"Why, Margaret, is that you?" said John Cook as he met her, turning the +corner of the Chaise and Pair, on the evening of the 9th of May; "why, +where have you been all these livelong days? And what are you doing now +in Ipswich?" + +"I am in search of Laud: have you seen or heard anything of him to-day?" + +"Yes, that I have; you are in luck to meet with the only person in the +world who could tell you where he is! But this is not the place to be +talking secrets. Come with me to the Marquis Cornwallis, where Laud and +I have spent a merry time, and I will tell you all about him." + +There was no difficulty in persuading her to accompany him, and on +arriving at the inn, Margaret found by this fellow's conversation with +the landlord, that Laud and he had spent the previous evening at that +house. This confirmed her belief in his story, and enabled him to make +her the easy dupe of all the vile inventions which were to follow. + +They requested that they might have the parlour to themselves; and the +ever-liberal Margaret ordered some refreshment, though she could, from +her anxiety, partake of nothing herself. + +"Well, I promised you I would tell you all about Laud; but first let me +tell you that I set him right about your ugly speech that night when you +got such a ducking." + +"Did you? did you, indeed? What did he say to it? Did he forgive me?" + +"Did he? Aye! I'll tell you what, I never saw a fellow so dumb-foundered +before. He looked almost like a madman, cursed his stars, and swore they +were all confederate against him. He swore you were the best creature in +the world, and if he could but see you, he would make you happy." + +"Oh, John! how good you were to tell him! But where is he? Is he in +Ipswich? Do bring me to him?" + +"Hold hard a bit; I must let you into a little bit of a secret. You must +know that Laud and I are upon such intimate terms, that we communicate +by a kind of expression known only to ourselves. He, as you know, went +back to smuggling again after your rap, though that was not intentional +on your part. He did not go to sea, but entered upon the timber trade, +though he employed about twenty men under him to carry on his traffic. +Now I know he would have gone in search of your hiding-place, if he had +not been compelled to hide himself. The fact is, he is escaped from an +arrest for five hundred pounds which he was bound to pay to the Excise, +and but for a very lucky turn he would have been nabbed last night." + +"Well, but where is he now?" + +"I will tell you where he may be found to-morrow. All I know now is, +that he took the mail last night, by the greatest good luck in the +world, and went off to London. He is to write to me to-night, and I +shall be able to tell you to-morrow." + +That this was all a mere invention of this rascal's, to get out of +Margaret all he could, the reader will easily believe. Lucky was it for +her that she did not tell him what sum of money she had belonging to +Laud, or every farthing of it would have gone into this fellow's hands. +As it was, he managed to get out of her what little cash she could +spare, under the promise of revealing to her the hiding-place of Laud. +After chatting with him a long time, and hearing much of herself and her +lover, all pure inventions of this fellow's brain, and easily detected +by any person with less blindness upon the subject, Margaret took her +leave of him, giving him half-a-crown to spend. She returned to the +Widow Syers', and, as might be supposed, passed a feverish night, +restless with nervous anxiety. Poor girl! she little thought of the +mischief then brooding for her ruin. + +The morrow came, bringing a letter to John Cook, of a very different +description to that which Margaret anticipated. It ran thus:-- + + "Dog and Bone, Lambeth, + "May 8th, 1797. + + "Jack, + + "I sold the bay mare at Smithfield yesterday. I might ha' got more, + but the nabs were about; so I wopt her off for ten. Old Snacks, at + the Bone here, got his 'centage. I crabbed the old chap as well as + I could; but he's up to snuff. You wouldn't ha' known old Peggy + again. We blacked her white legs and popt a white face on to her, + gave her a rat's tail, filed her teeth, and burnt her mark, and wop + me if I mightent ha' sold her for a six-year old, if I hadn't been + in a hurry. But she's off, they tell me, to serve in a foreign + country. She's a right good un, though an old'n. All's honour + bright, Jack! + + "I say, old boy, we talked o' the brown nag; can ye send him up to + Chelmsford? or if to the Dog and Bone, direct to your old chum, + + "Bob Bush, + "Sam Snacks, + "Dog and Bone, Lambeth. + + "To John Cook, + "Marquis Cornwallis, + "Ipswich, Suffolk." + +This letter, which was found some days later at the inn, and delivered +up to the constable of the parish of St. Margaret's, may serve to show +the connexion which this fellow had with a gang of horse-stealers, who, +at this time, infested the counties of Essex, Norfolk, and Suffolk. The +brown nag here mentioned was one which had been turned off in the +pastures of St. Margaret's, belonging to John Cobbold, Esq. He was a +high-spirited little horse, and aged. The eyes of this rogue had been +upon him, and a most diabolical project now entered his brain, of making +Margaret Catchpole, whose early feats of riding were not unknown to him, +the minister of this theft. + +"I shall make something out of her now," said the fellow, "if I can only +play upon her feelings. How shall I do it?" + +A thought struck him that he would tear off the half of the letter +containing the post-mark, and paste one which he would invent, on that +half, and sign it for Will Laud. Margaret knew little or nothing of +Will's handwriting, so that she could easily be deceived in this +respect; and if she knew that it was not his, the fellow was ready +enough to swear that he had hurt his hand by the falling of a spar, and +so got a friend to write it for him. He put his wits to work, and +concocted an epistle as nearly pertinent to what he had made out Laud's +case to be, as he could. + +He dated it from the same place from whence he received his own, and +intended to write to Bob Bush to take the horse off Margaret's hands, +if he could get her on to it. He wrote thus:-- + + "Dog and Bone, Lambeth, May 9th, 1797. + "Dear Jack, + + "Hurrah, my boy! Safely anchored, though I had cut my cable, and + run; but I have got into a friendly port, and my pursuers shan't + easily find me. Precious hard, though, Jack, after just finding out + my girl, to have to tack and leave her. You might lend a hand now, + just to serve an old friend. Margaret would make my present dull + time a little lighter, if you could but find her up, and put her on + the right road to find me. I think she would forgive me, if you + could explain matters a little to her. Tell her we could get + married here, and after a time all would be well. But, Jack, mum + must be the order of the day. Don't you fire a volley at me until + she's off to London. She must come incog, Jack; aye, in man's + clothes, if she can: you know why. A thought strikes me, which if + you put it into her head, will just suit her, and me too. Persuade + her to borrow the old pony of her master's, from the pasture on the + Woodbridge road, or to take it with French leave. It is worth + nothing, and will never be inquired after; and if disposed of, will + scarcely be missed. And if she was found out, it would only be + treated as a good spree! So, Jack, try her; she has a spirit equal + to the work, and we shall then be no more parted. Now, do this for + + "Your old friend, + "Will Laud." + +Margaret read this letter with mingled feelings of pain and pleasure, +but she implicitly believed every word of it, yet she did not like +Laud's plan. "Why not go and borrow the horse of old Teager," said she, +"if it must be so? I know he will lend it to me." + +"What, and tell him you want his stable-dress to ride to London in? Fine +fun he'd make of it, would he not? No, no, Margaret, that will never +do. We must take it with French leave, or let it alone." + +"I wish I could see him by some other means. I do not like his plan; and +yet, perhaps, he has none other to offer," said Margaret, as if +pondering within herself. + +"I can tell you he is not the man to offer it if he has," said Cook. +"Once put him off again, and it will be long enough before you ever see +or hear of him again." + +Margaret felt that such would be the case, and yielded to the artful +duplicity of this wicked man, and agreed to meet him the next night to +put their wild plan in practice. But as heaven willed that she should +have one more chance of escape from the evil which threatened her, the +excitement which she suffered brought on an attack of fever that very +night, and she was laid up for many days. The warning, however, was in +vain; and so soon as she recovered, she agreed to put their plan in +execution. + +It was on the 23rd of May that Margaret met John Cook at the place +before appointed, having previously bought herself a hat and a pair of +boots. But now a new obstacle presented itself, which, like the one just +alluded to, might have served as a warning, had any religious feelings +found place in Margaret's mind and heart. They went into the meadow, and +for more than an hour tried to catch the horse. But it was all in vain; +he would be caught by nobody but old Teager. + +What was to be done now? + +"This is a turn I did not bargain for," said John Cook, "and I have +written to Laud to say you will be, without fail, at the place I shall +tell you of when you are once mounted. A horse we came for, and a horse +we will have, for I would not disappoint the captain for a hundred +horses; so follow me, Margaret." + +The girl hesitated, and inquired what it was he proposed to do. + +"Not many yards off, in yonder stable, there are two noble horses that +are worth riding; you shall take one of them." + +"Do you mean the carriage-horses? I dare not ride one of them." + +"Nonsense, girl! If you don't come along and just do as I bid you, hang +me if I don't write to Laud, and tell him you don't care anything about +him. Come along! I must help you over the low wall against the end of +the garden. Come along! You have fairly begun the work; don't give it +up." + +Margaret never wanted courage until that moment, and then she followed, +trembling from head to foot. + +The fellow got on to the wall and assisted her up and down. He then went +across the lawn to the stable-yard with the trembling Margaret at his +heels; they found the stable-door locked; but the wicket at the side, by +the muck-bin, was unhanked and stood ajar. Margaret got into the stable +through this place, and slipped back the bolt of the stable-door; the +horses had been accustomed to her coming into the stable for straw for +her fire, and she had often spoke to them and patted them, so that her +voice now, as she said, "Whoho, Crop!" and "Gently, Rochford!" was +familiar to them; and they did not rise up until John Cook entered and +began to strike a light. + +"Now, Margaret, pull the litter down toward the stable-door, whilst I +just look into the harness-house." + +Rochford, a fiery grey horse which Mr. Cobbold had lately purchased from +Lord Rochford, at Easton, rose up and snorted, and clanked his chains so +terribly, that Margaret expected every moment that old George who slept +over the stable, would present himself; but the old man was deaf, and +heavy in his sleep, and had only returned from Mrs. Proby's, of +Stratford, late that evening, and had not been in bed above an hour, so +that he was in his first sound sleep. + +"Margaret, you must take this lantern, and just move the dark part +round, and it will show you where the old boy's stable-dress is; go up +the stairs carefully, and bring it down with you." + +Margaret did so. She went with breathless step to the bedside of the +coachman. His stable dress was upon the floor; she took it up gently, +and as cautiously receded with it down to the stable again, closing the +door without noise. + +"So far so good, Margaret. Now, do you dress yourself there in the empty +stall, while I saddle and bridle the further horse." + +This, however, was more than John Cook could do, for Rochford was of +such a spirit, and sent out at him with such vengeance that he dared not +go up to him; nor could he without Margaret's help put the saddle or +bridle on to Crop. She dressed herself as quickly as she could in the +coachman's stable-dress; he being a little fellow, and Margaret rather +tall, they only hung about her a little loosely, but were not too long +for her. When she came from the stall, after rolling her own things in a +bundle, and putting them into the very bottom of the seed-box, under the +manger, and covering them with hay, she looked exactly like a young +groom. She went up to the Crop horse and patted him on the neck, whilst +her companion saddled and bridled him; she then tied some straw round +his feet, so that no noise should be made in the stable-yard, and out +the gallant fellow was led, ready for such a journey and for such a +rider as never before had mounted his back. + +"Now my girl," exclaimed Cook, "screw up your courage to the start! Come +into the meadow. I can let you out on to the Woodbridge road, and then +off with you." + +"But where am I to find him? You have not told me that," exclaimed +Margaret. + +"Mount! and I will tell you." + +Margaret, with his aid, was soon in the saddle, and once there, she felt +her own command over her steed. + +"Now Margaret," he replied, "mind what I say: you must sell that horse +if you can, at Chelmsford market to-morrow morning; if not, you must +ride on to the Bull, in Aldgate, London; but if you regard your own and +your lover's safety, you will sell the horse first, and then find your +way to the Dog and Bone public-house, at Lambeth; there you will find +Will Laud expecting you. Sell the horse for all you can get; say he is +worth a hundred guineas, and that your master, Squire John Cook, sent +you up to sell him." + +The horse was a strawberry roan colour, remarkable for his action and +the spirit with which he went through a journey. His ears were short +enough, for, in accordance with a barbarous practice of that day, they +were cropped; few that ever knew the horse could forget him; in harness +he carried himself as proudly as if he had been trained to exhibit his +beauty, but this was his constant habit; his spirit was such, that he +was never touched with a whip, and never exhibited the least disposition +to restiveness; free, easy, gentle, noble, swift, untiring, graceful, +and grand--he was admired wherever he went; and the short coachman, who +occasionally used to ride him, made him, a sixteen-hand horse, look at +least a hand higher. What an object was Margaret Catchpole upon him! Her +spirit was up as well as Crop's; her resolution to go through all she +had undertaken was fixed, and in reply to John Cook's question, when +they came to the paddock-gate, "Are you ready, Margaret?" she replied, +"Quite ready!" + +"And now, off with you," said the fellow, as he opened the gate. +"Remember the 'Dog and Bone.' A hundred guineas for the horse, and you +will be a happy woman;" and off started poor Margaret at a sweeping pace +for the London road. + +St. Margaret's clock struck one, just as she passed the front of that +house in which she had lived so much respected, and in which, +unconscious of her guilt, slept the kindest master and mistress that a +servant ever knew. + +But Margaret rode on, reckless of all the ills that might await her, and +thinking only of the lover that she was to meet at the end of her mad +journey. + +The guard of the mail-coach observed to the driver of the Ipswich mail, +as Margaret met it, about two miles before she reached Colchester, +"That's Mr. Cobbold's Crop horse! There must be something the matter in +the family by the pace the groom is going. Did you see the fellow's +stable-dress up to his knees? There's something amiss, or the horse is +stolen." + +When he came to Ipswich, the man mentioned the circumstance at the +coach-office, and said he was positive something was wrong. + +Mr. Bailey, the postmaster, immediately sent a messenger with a note, to +inform Mr. Cobbold that the guard had met some one riding his horse very +fast on the London road. + +It was five o'clock when the man rang loudly at the porch-bell; the +footman came down in a great hurry and carried up the note to his +master's room, who quickly ordered him to go to the stable and see if +George Teager and the horses were safe. He ran to the stable, and true +enough, he found the Crop horse gone. He called out to George, whom, at +first, he suspected of having gone off with the horse, "Hullo, George; +Crop is gone!" + +The old man jumped up. "What's the matter? Who calls?" + +"One of the horses is stolen, George; you must come down immediately; it +was met two miles this side of Colchester!" + +"Come, come, Tom, none o' your tricks! this is only some of your +nonsense: can't ye let an old fellow rest in his bed without playing off +your boy's tricks? what have you done with my stable dress?" + +This made Thomas bolt upstairs. + +"I know nothing of your stable-dress; I tell you master will be here in +a minute: on with your livery. I'll be whipped if somebody has not +stolen the fustians! Come, old boy, this is no fun, it's as true as you +are staring there; so up with you." + +George found by his companion's earnest manner that he spoke the truth, +and putting on his livery he came down; he was, as many a man at his age +and in his situation would be, much bewildered. He ascertained, however, +that the thief had taken his master's new saddle and bridle, and a +small stick of his own. He observed that it must have been an old +practitioner, by the straw being littered down to the door, and pointed +out to Thomas that the horse's hoofs had been covered with straw to +prevent them clattering on the pavement of the yard. His master soon +came down and easily tracked the horse to the paddock gate. Of course +all the family were roused. "Go directly, George, up to Mr. Spink's, the +dealer's, who got this horse for me, and knows him as well as you do, +and order a post-chaise from the Lion, and bring Mr. Spink here. You +must both of you pursue the thief, even to London. Be as quick as you +can." + +In the meantime a handbill was written and sent to Mr. Jackson's, of the +_County Press_, with a request that copies might be struck off +immediately, in time for the nine o'clock coaches to London. It was to +this effect:-- + + "TWENTY GUINEAS REWARD. + + "Whereas, last night, or this morning, May 24th, a fine strawberry + roan grey gelding was stolen out of the stable of John Cobbold, + Esq., of St. Margaret's Green, Ipswich, together with a new saddle + and bridle, and the coachman's stable-dress. Whoever shall give + information of the robber, so as to lead to the recovery of the + horse, or the conviction of the offender, shall receive the above + reward at the hands of the owner. + + "N.B. The horse is sixteen hands high, has cropped ears, is six + years old, has a cut tail, and is very strong and very fast. + + "Ipswich, May 24th, 1797." + +This was struck off as soon as possible, and circulated over the town +and through the country, by every vehicle leaving the town. + +It was about seven o'clock when old Teager and Mr. Spink left Ipswich +for Colchester, so that Margaret had some hours' start of her pursuers. +As they went on they heard at every toll-gate of a young man having +gone through on just the description of horse given, so that it was a +warm scent before them. + +When they arrived at Chelmsford, through a misdirection of some person, +they were told that the same horse was seen going on to Maldon, in the +hundreds of Essex; and they had just given the post-boy orders to turn +off the London road in pursuit, as Mr. Alston, of Diss, rode into the +yard of the Black Boy as the pursuers were in the act of getting into +the chaise. + +"Pray, sir, may I be so bold as to ask if you came far along the London +road?" + +"I left town this morning, and am now on my journey to Manningtree. Why +do you ask?" + +"Because I am in pursuit of a thief. You did not chance to meet a man +riding a strawberry roan carriage-horse?" + +"Yes, I did; and remarked at the time that I thought it was the finest +shaped horse I had ever seen. He was a crop, with high action and bold +crest." + +"It is the very horse! Whereabouts might you meet him, sir?" + +"I met him I should say about five miles on the other side of Romford, +near to Ilford. It was about nine o'clock. I remarked to myself, what a +fool the lad must be who was riding him, that he did not manage to +fasten his overalls down at his ankles, as I could see his stockings up +to his knees. Some gentleman I thought was sending him into livery +stables." + +"We are greatly obliged to you, sir. On, boy, on!" and the post-chaise +dashed out of the yard. + +But for the accidental meeting of Mr. Alston it is very probable +Margaret would have escaped; but the information thus given put the +pursuers on the right scent, just in the right time. + +Meantime let us accompany Margaret on her perilous expedition. She had +actually ridden the horse from Ipswich to London in the space of eight +hours and a half; it being seventy miles from that place to the Bull, in +Aldgate. She only stopped once on the road, at a small public-house, +called the Trowel and Hammer, at Marks Tey, in Essex; here she gave her +gallant horse a feed of corn, and had a glass of brandy and water and a +biscuit. It was just five o'clock when she baited. She dared not to +offer the horse for sale at Chelmsford for fear of detection, at such an +early hour. She felt persuaded that a pursuit would be made, and hoped +to hide herself in the metropolis before her pursuers could reach her. +Accordingly she allowed the horse no more time than was sufficient for +him to finish his corn, and off she went again for nearly five hours' +further ride. As she approached town many were the eyes directed towards +her, both on account of the remarkable character of the horse, and the +singular appearance of the rider. Margaret took no notice of any one, +but pushed on her willing steed with the same indifference as if she had +been sent upon an errand of only a few miles; nor was the horse +apparently fatigued in the least when they arrived at the Bull Inn, +which they did about half-past nine o'clock. + +She rode quietly down the yard, called for the ostler, dismounted, shook +her trousers down, and addressed the man in as off-hand a manner as if +she were a real groom. + +"Rub that horse down well, and get him cool and comfortable; give him a +sup of water and a mouthful of hay, and I will come and see him fed." + +"Have you rode far, young man?" asked the ostler. + +"Not a very great way. I came out of Chelmsford this morning. See and +rub his ears dry, ostler. You must make him look as well as you can, for +I expect my master up in town to-night; and if I don't meet with a +customer for that horse he'll blow me up." + +"He's a very fine horse; and if as good as he looks, would be worth any +man's money." + +"He's better than he looks, ostler: and 'tisn't any man's money that +will buy him. He must give a good price for him, whoever buys him. But +look well after him. I must go and get a bait myself." + +She went into the bar, ordered her breakfast, took up the newspaper, +and with all the airs of a consequential young jockey sat down to the +perusal of it. After taking some refreshment she got up to see her horse +fed. + +The ostler, finding so fine a horse was for sale, apprised a +livery-stable-keeper of his acquaintance, who on hearing his +representation hastened to look at him. Margaret was called out; the +animal exhibited; under-valued by the dealer in the style so +characteristic of such gentry; and his good qualifications well vouched +for by the young groom. + +"Did you ever see a better shape?" exclaimed Margaret. "Look at his +fore-end; there's a crest, there's a shoulder, there's a head! Look at +his legs, as straight and clean as a colt's; and as for quarters, where +will you find such for strength and beauty? He's six-year old next +grass; has never done any hard work before this day; and you won't find +a puff as big as a pea in any of his sinews. Quiet to ride or drive, and +without a fault. Now, what's the matter with him?" + +This was such a poser to the dealer that he could only reply by asking, +"Can I have a warranty with him?" + +"To be sure you can," said Margaret. "You may have a written one from +me; or, if you like better to deal with my master, you may wait till he +comes up, and then he'll give you a character, and perhaps you'll make a +better bargain with him than you will with me." + +"Are you authorized to sell the horse?" + +"To be sure I am, or else I should not stand here to talk with you about +him." + +"Who does he belong to, young man?" + +"He belongs to my master, Mr. Cook, of Ipswich, in Suffolk." + +"What do you want for him?" + +"One hundred guineas." + +"May I take him for a trial?" + +"Yes; when you have bought and paid for him. He is not to go out of my +sight until I receive the money for him, or deliver the horse himself +into my master's charge." + +"I should like to see him down our ride; I could better judge of his +paces." + +"Clap the saddle on him. I will ride him where you like; or I will let +you drive me with him; but I do not trust any one else with him whilst +he is in my care." + +The saddle and bridle were put on, and Crop came out of the stable free, +and ready to trot back again to Ipswich if his rider was so disposed. He +was as fresh and joyous as a lark, and sprang up into the air with +almost as light a heart. Margaret mounted awkwardly; put her foot into +the stirrup the wrong way; and perceiving that this was noticed, she +crossed the stirrups over the saddle in front of her, saying, + +"My master always makes me ride without stirrups, and I like it best." + +In truth she sat the horse better without them; and had she had no +saddle, it would have suited her even better still; but this seemed to +have the desired effect. + +The dealer, however, entertained some suspicions from the awkward manner +of the groom, and having already suffered for purchasing a stolen horse, +he was more on his guard than he otherwise might have been. + +They went out of the stable-yard together, and reached the ride +belonging to the dealer, and Margaret turned her horse in as she was +directed. The stable lads peeped out to see what kind of nag their +master was buying, and were not satisfied with a glance, but looked with +much admiration at him. + +"Just trot him down the ride, young man." + +Margaret dashed down the yard and back again. + +"Soho! my fine fellow! Peter," he said to his head man, "just come and +look at this nag." + +Peter stepped forward, and gave his master a knowing look, as much as to +say, "Am I to decry him?" + +"Look at his mouth!" + +Peter did so. + +"How is it, Peter?" + +"All right, sir." + +"What's his age?" + +"Rising six." + +"What do you say to him?" + +Peter looked at every point, then scratched his head, and again looked +at his master; but he received no sign to manoeuvre; so he replied, +"Why, master, if you ask for truth you shall have it. He's a right good +one; that is it." + +"Well, young man, now what is the lowest price you will take?" + +"I told you his price when you asked me before. You don't expect me to +lower the price of my own horse without a bid! What do you say you will +give?" + +"Why, I don't know! He's not every man's horse! Not easily matched; and +not suited for a town horse; but I'll bid you fifty guineas for him." + +"Thank you for your bid, sir; but you must come nigh to double that +before you'll buy." + +"Will you take sixty for him?" + +"No; I will not." + +"Will you take seventy? Come now, I'll give you seventy. You may go a +long way before you'll get such another offer. Say, will you take it?" + +"Add another ten to it and it shall be a bargain. I will take eighty." + +"Just walk him down again. Peter, what do you think of him?" + +"He's worth the money; that's what I say. Buy him, master." + +"Well, young man, I'll take the horse; but you must give me a written +warranty with him." + +"That I'll do; but perhaps you'll not like to conclude the bargain +without master's warranty; if so, we had better not exactly conclude the +price." + +This so took the dealer aback, that it drove away all suspicions, and he +said, "No, no; your warranty will do. I'll give you the money." He was +in the act of going to the gateway as he saw one of his men come into +the yard, with a paper in his hand, which proved to be one of the +identical hand-bills, offering a reward of twenty guineas for the very +horse he had just bought. "Peter," he called out, "tell the young man +just to walk that horse once more up the yard, and come you here." + +He showed Peter the bill, who said: "It's the very horse!" + +"Go you and fetch a constable; I'll keep him in play a bit until he +comes." + +"He's a charming shaped horse, young man. I'd just a mind to ask you if +you'd throw the saddle and bridle into the bargain." + +"Why, master told me I might sell that if I pleased, and if I sold well, +that should be my perquisite." + +"I see 'tis a country-made saddle; but it looks pretty good. What will +you have for it?" + +"Four guineas for both. Come, I have let you take the horse at much less +than he is worth; you can afford to give me a fair price for the saddle +and bridle, which are, you see, quite new." + +By this time Peter returned with the constable; but Margaret was joking +about the saddle and bridle, and greatly rejoicing at her success, not +the least conscious of the presence of the man of the law, or of the +dreadful fate which awaited her. + +"Did you say that horse came from Ipswich, young man?" said the dealer. + +"I did," said she. + +"When did he leave Ipswich?" + +"Yesterday." + +"Did you leave with him?" + +"Yes, I did; I told you so." + +"No, you didn't; you told me you rode him from Chelmsford." + +"So I did; and from Ipswich too." + +"What was your master's name?" + +"Mr. John Cook," said Margaret, who now began to feel a little uneasy. + +"Are you sure it was not Mr. John Cobbold? Look at that hand-bill, young +man." + +Margaret saw only her master's name, and all her fortitude forsook her; +she swooned away in a moment, and would have fallen from the horse, had +not the constable caught her by her jacket as she was falling; and in +endeavouring to support her off the horse the jacket flew open, and to +the astonishment of all around, lo, and behold, it was a woman! + +Margaret was taken into custody; and such a hubbub was created in the +neighbourhood, that the story of a female horse-stealer was soon spread +abroad, and people began to crowd into the yard. Among the multitude was +a son-in-law of Mr. Cobbold's, who happened to be in town at the time, +and identified both the horse and his rider. It was not long before the +coachman and Mr. Spink made their appearance, and she was taken before a +magistrate, and immediately committed to Newgate, until further evidence +could be produced. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +PREPARATION FOR TRIAL + + +Margaret Catchpole was taken into custody; and whilst she was spending a +dismal night in the dungeon, a letter was on the road to Ipswich, to +inform her master of the capture of the thief. + +The wretched young woman had now time for rest and reflection. Instead +of meeting her lover, for which purpose alone she had undertaken her +desperate enterprise, she had now before her eyes the terrors of the +law, the certainty of conviction, the probability of a violent and +shameful death. Who knew anything of the cause which had induced her to +steal the horse, and who would pity her if they did? The secret was +known only to herself, and she resolved it should continue so, lest her +lover should be involved in the consequences of her guilt. + +It will readily be believed that the news of what had happened created +no small sensation in the minds of the various members of that family +who had so dearly loved the miserable culprit. + +It was immediately arranged that both Mr. and Mrs. Cobbold should go to +town, and they arrived about nine o'clock in the evening at the Four +Swans, Bishopsgate Street. + +At the time fixed for the examination of the prisoner before the +magistrates, Mr. and Mrs. Cobbold arrived at the Police-office in +Whitechapel. + +Many gentlemen were present, who having heard the case mentioned, had +obtained permission to attend. + +The office was crowded, and the street also, for it was understood that +Margaret was to be brought up for examination. Hundreds who knew nothing +of the parties, but only that a female had stolen a horse, were +assembled purely from curiosity to see such a person. + +Margaret was brought up in proper custody, and found herself the object +of jokes and gibes amidst the thoughtless rabble of the streets. She was +conducted into an ante-room adjoining the court, and as a door opened +into the passage from the magistrates' private room, she thought she +heard her mistress's voice. Another moment convinced her that she saw +her. It was to her a moment of great bitterness and agony. + +At the request of the prosecutor, she was summoned into the magistrates' +private room, before going into the public court. She was terrified +beyond measure at the idea of encountering the sight of her mistress. +She begged hard not to be taken into her presence, but she was compelled +to go in. The moment she saw her she exclaimed: "Oh, my dear mistress!" +and fell to the ground. She was lifted up and placed in a chair; and +from her dreadful state of agitation, it was agreed among the +magistrates that, upon her recovery, her deposition should be taken +where she then was. Accordingly, the clerk was summoned from the public +office into the private room. + +Her mistress as well as herself was greatly affected at the interview, +and deeply touched at her distress. All the gentlemen present felt more +than commonly interested in the scene. + +The girl slowly revived; the gentlemen took their seats, and the clerk +was ordered to take down her deposition. The magistrate told her that +the confession she had made, and might now make, would be evidence +against her on her trial, and that she was at liberty to speak, or not, +as she pleased. + +Having implored and obtained forgiveness from her master and mistress, +Margaret became more composed, and made a full confession of her guilt. +She acknowledged that she had been persuaded, and even compelled, to +this act by a man named John Cook, a sailor at Ipswich, and declared +that she stole the horse by his direction and threats; that she was to +have sold it at Chelmsford, but that she dared not offer it there. She +did not once betray her lover's name, or mention anything about his +hiding-place; but she described all the particulars of the robbery with +which the reader is acquainted, and stated, as a corroborative fact, +that her own clothes would be found, if not already removed, under the +manger of the empty stall. + +Her deposition having been then read over to her by the clerk, she +signed her name to it. Before they parted, Mrs. Cobbold spoke to her +consolingly, while she placed before her mind the heinousness of her +offence. Poor Margaret felt better after this, and with a heart very +much humbled, was committed to Newgate by N. Bond, Esq., with an order +for her removal as soon as the forms could be gone through, to the gaol +of the county in which the offence was committed. Mr. Cobbold was bound +over to prosecute, which being done, that gentleman and his lady +returned to their hotel. + +Every effort was made to discover the resort of John Cook; but that +scamp, the moment he heard of the capture, decamped, nor was he ever +after heard of. He was well known; and the landlord of the Marquis +Cornwallis testified to Margaret's having been at his house with the +man, as also his being at the same place with Captain Laud, as he was +called, the evening before. But what became of him no one ever knew. The +half of a letter from his companion in London was found at the inn, and +was adduced to show his connexion with a gang of horse-stealers; but +this only served to tell against poor Margaret on her trial. + +Margaret was removed to Ipswich by _habeas corpus_, July 6th, 1797, and +Mr. Ripshaw, the gaoler, informed her mistress of her arrival. + +On the evening of the day Margaret arrived at Ipswich, she wrote the +following letter to her mistress. It has been already stated that she +had been taught to read and write, and keep accounts, by Mrs. Cobbold, +when she superintended the education of her family; and the results of +this teaching, as exemplified in the touching epistles which we shall +hereafter present to the reader, will doubtless be received with +singular interest, copied as they are from the original documents, which +are carefully preserved in the family. The following is the first she +ever wrote:-- + + "Ipswich, Thursday, July 6th, 1797. + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "Your wretched servant has this evening arrived at the county gaol. + Hope induced me to look forward to an earlier abode near you, that + I might have the consolation of your instruction and advice. Oh! my + honoured lady, when I look upon that dear spot in which you live, + and see those green fields before your house, in which I used to + walk and play with your dear children, I think the more deeply of + the gloom of my felon's chamber, from which I can even at this + moment behold them. They recall to my mind those happy hours in + which I enjoyed your approbation and respect. How wretched do I now + feel! Oh! what have I not lost! + + "I am come to Ipswich to take my trial, and am already condemned + by my own conscience more severely than any judge can condemn me. + But yours must be the task to teach me how to escape, not the + condemnation of the judge, but of my own heart. Oh, my dear lady! + do come and see me! Many people were kind to me at Newgate, and + many persons contributed to my necessities; some indeed flattered + me, and called me a brave girl for my recent act, which they termed + clever and courageous. But if they were so, dear lady, why should I + now feel so much fear? I thought them poor consolers, and not half + such sincere friends as those who told me, as you did, the + greatness of my offence, and the probable extent of ultimate + punishment. + + "Honoured madam, would you let a messenger go to my dear father and + tell him where I am, and how much I desire to see him? I fear you + will think me very bold and troublesome, but I know your kind heart + will make allowances for my troubled mind. I should like to see my + Uncle Leader. But I should, first of all, like to see you, my dear + lady. Perhaps it will not be long before I shall see you no more. I + wish to make up my mind to the worst, but I am at times dreadfully + troubled. I feel it so hard to be suddenly torn away from every + earthly bond, and some on earth I do so dearly love; and none more + deserves that love than you do. Pray come to me; and ever believe + me + + "Your grateful, though + "Most wretched servant, + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + +"P.S.--Mr. Ripshaw has promised to send you this letter this evening. He +tells me you have often inquired for me." + +The chaplain of the gaol was a friend of Mrs. Cobbold's; she wrote a +note to him requesting him to accompany her at any hour most convenient +to himself, to see her poor servant. At eleven o'clock the next day, the +interview took place between the wretched culprit and this truly +Christian lady. She spent some hours with that disconsolate being, whose +whole thoughts seemed to be directed with bitter agony to days of past +happiness. For though she had endured much mortification in early life, +she had experienced the comfort and consolation of a true and +disinterested friend and benefactress in the person of that kind +mistress, and her naturally intelligent mind had duly appreciated these +benefits. + +These visits were repeated many times, and with the most beneficial +effects on the mind of the culprit. Her present anguish was the keener, +because her sensibilities were all so acutely alive to the memory of the +past. It was her mistress's endeavour not to suffer her to be deceived +with any false hopes. She was well aware that the penalty of her crime +was death, and that unless her instigating accomplice could be delivered +up to justice, she stood every chance of being made a public example, on +account of the great frequency of the crime. To such an extent had +horse-stealing been carried on in the counties of Suffolk and Essex, +that scarce a week passed without rewards being offered for the +apprehension of the thieves. + +Margaret's interviews with her father and brother were still more deeply +affecting: but to them and to her beloved mistress alone did she make +known the real circumstances, attending her stealing the horse. She did +not attempt, however, to defend the act, nor would she admit that +another's influence was any exculpation of her offence. Mr. Stebbing, +the surgeon of the gaol, who had been her first friend in Ipswich, was +very kind to her, as was likewise his benevolent daughter, who lent her +many useful books. But the being she most wished to see, and from whose +memory she had never thought she could have been displaced, came not +near her in her adversity. William Laud had been at Nacton, to see her +father and brother. The report of her confession had reached him--he had +seen it in the newspapers; and it altered all his views and intentions +respecting her; so that the very act which she had done in the hope of +strengthening his attachment to her, was the direct cause of his +deserting her. In fact, he believed that she had committed the act from +an attachment to somebody else, and he gave up all idea of her for the +future. + +But Margaret was still true to _him_. In one of her interviews with Mrs. +Cobbold, that kind and good lady, referring to the fact of Laud's not +coming near her in her adversity, said earnestly-- + +"You must endeavour to think less of him, Margaret." + +"It is hard, madam," was the reply, "for flesh and blood not to think of +one who has been in one's thoughts so many years of one's life. In happy +as well as miserable hours, I have thought of him, madam, and have +always hoped for the best. He is still in all my prayers!" + +"Your hopes of him, Margaret, must now be at an end. It would have been +happier for you, if they ended when you lived with me." + +"Perhaps so, good lady; perhaps so. Or even earlier. I think now of my +poor sister Susan's last words: 'Margaret, you will never marry William +Laud.' I had hoped that these words were only the fears of the moment; +but, alas! I perceive they will prove too true!" + +The only diversion of Margaret's mind at this period, from a fixed and +undivided attention to heavenly things, was the one hope of seeing Laud. +She clung with tenacity to this, as a sort of last farewell to all +things in the world. She said, that had she but one interview with him, +she should then have no other wish but to die. + +Time flew fast, and the day of her trial approached. She was to depart +for Bury, where the assizes were held, early on the morning of the 9th +of August; and, on the preceding day, she wrote the following letter to +her mistress:-- + + "IPSWICH GAOL, August 8th, 1797. + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "By the time you read this, which I expect will be at your happy + breakfast-table to-morrow morning, your poor servant will be at + Bury, awaiting the awful moment of her condemnation. I could not + leave this place, however, without pouring out my heart to you, my + dear and honoured lady; thanking you for your great kindness and + Christian charity to my poor soul. I have confessed my guilt to God + and man, and I go to my trial with the same determination to plead + guilty before both. + + "Honoured madam, I am told that the judge will call upon me to know + if I have anybody in court to speak to my character. Now, though I + cannot hope, and indeed would not urge you to be present in court, + considering the state you are now in,[9] yet you have spoken well + of me in private, and I know you would never fear to speak publicly + that which you have said of me in private. Perhaps a line from you + would do that which I want. You well know, my dear madam, that it + is not from any hope of its obtaining a pardon for me that I ask + it; but it is from the hope that one, whom I shall never see again, + may by some means catch a sight of it; and may think better of me + than the world at large, who know nothing of me, can do. Pardon + this weakness. + + "Think not that I have any hope of mercy or pardon here. You have + taught me how to hope for both hereafter. You have shown me much + mercy and pity here, and the Lord reward you and my dear master for + your unmerited compassion to your wretched servant! You have + fortified my mind with the riches of consolation in that religion + which I hope will be poured with tenfold increase into your own + heart, and give you that peace you are so anxious I should possess. + It grieves me to see my fellow-prisoners so unprepared for the fate + which awaits them. Oh, that they had such friends as I have had! + Oh, that they had been partakers of the same consolation as myself! + And now, dearest lady, I have only to request your mention of me in + your prayers. Bless you, my dear madam! God bless you and your dear + children, and may they live to be a blessing to your old age! Give + my kind thanks to all those friends who may ever inquire about me. + And now, dearest lady, pardon the errors of this letter, as you + have done all the graver faults of your ever grateful and now + happier servant, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "To MRS. COBBOLD, St. Margaret's Green, Ipswich." + +Margaret, with several other prisoners, departed for Bury assizes in the +prisoners' van, which started at six o'clock on the 9th of August, 1797, +under the care of Mr. Ripshaw, the gaoler, and arrived at that place +about eleven o'clock in the forenoon. + +The town was in a bustle, and the prisoners were received into the +borough gaol that day an hour or so previously to their trial--a day of +anxiety to many, but by too many spent in revelry and folly. The various +witnesses crowded into the town. The inns were filled on the 8th. +Expectation was alive and active; and the bustle of preparing for +business created a stir throughout that town, which at other times is +the most silent, the coldest, and the dullest place in England. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 9: The writer of these pages, one of the sons of that +excellent woman, was born on the 9th of September following.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +TRIAL AND CONDEMNATION TO DEATH + + +There are few things that appear in greater and more painful contrast +than the general rejoicing which attends the assizes of a country town, +and the solemn and awful purposes for which those assizes are held. It +may be said, that it is matter of rejoicing when justice is about to be +administered; and that honest people have a right to be glad when the +wicked are about to be punished. But there is great difference between a +reasonable show of rejoicing, and the overflowings of pomp and parade, +levity and folly. + +At the assizes at Bury, at the time we speak of, the sheriff's pomp and +state was something approaching to regal splendour. His gaudy liveries, +his gilded carriage, his courtly dress, and all the expenses attendant +upon such a station, made it a heavy burden to the unfortunate country +gentleman who should be appointed to such an office. The balls, too, and +public entertainments common at such time in the county, formed a +striking contrast to the sorrows and despair of the criminals. The +judges entered the town, the trumpets sounded, the bells rang, the +sheriff's carriage was surrounded with hosts of gapers of all kinds, to +see their lordships alight at the Angel steps. The Lord Chief Baron +Macdonald and Mr. Justice Heath attended divine service, at St. James's +Church, previously to their entering the courts. Who could look down +upon that assemblage, and see those grave men, with their white wigs +crowned with black patches, their scarlet robes, lined with ermine, +preceded by the sheriff's officers, and all the municipal servants of +that ancient borough, with their gilt chains, silver maces, and ample +robes, and not think of the purpose for which they were assembled! + +The best preparation for the scenes met with in a court of justice, is +the house of prayer; though even here there is a strange contrast +between the peace and quietness of the church, and the bustle, broil, +and turmoil usually attendant on the administration of criminal justice. + +At twelve o'clock, on the day of trial, August 9th, 1797, the Lord Chief +Baron Macdonald took his seat upon the bench, in the criminal court. Mr. +Justice Heath presided in the Nisi Prius. On the right hand of the Lord +Chief Baron sat the High Sheriff, Chalonor Archdeckne, Esq., of +Glevering Hall, with his chaplain, and a full bench of county and +borough magistrates. After the proclamation had been read, the +respective lists of the grand jury for the county and the liberty were +then called over, as follows:-- + + FOR THE COUNTY + + Lord Viscount Brome. + + Sir John Blois, Bart. + + Philip Bowes Broke, Esq. + + Charles Berners, jun., Esq. + + George Golding, Esq. + + William Middleton, Esq. + + Eleazar Davy, Esq. + + John Frere, Esq. + + Matthias Kerrison, Esq. + + Wolfran Lewis, Esq. + + John Sheppard, Esq. + + Francis Broke, Esq. + + Mileson Edgar, Esq. + + Robert Trotman, Esq. + + John Bleadon, Esq. + + John Cobbold, Esq. + + Thomas Green, Esq. + + Joseph Burch Smith, Esq. + + Thomas Shaw, Esq. + + John Vernon, Esq. + + James Reeve, Esq. + + James Stutter, Esq. + + FOR THE LIBERTY + + Sir Charles Bunbury, Bart. + + Sir Charles Davers, Bart. + + Sir Thomas Cullum, Bart. + + Sir Harry Parker, Bart. + + Sir William Rowley, Bart. + + Nathaniel Lee Acton, Esq. + + Capel Lofft, Esq. + + Samuel Brice, Esq. + + William Parker, Esq. + + Richard Moore, Esq. + + Robert Walpole, Esq. + + James Oakes, Esq. + + Matthias Wright, Esq. + + Abraham Reeve, Esq. + + John Oliver, Esq. + + John Pytches, Esq. + + Thomas Cocksedge, Esq. + + John Cooke, Esq. + + George Jackson, Esq. + + William Kemp Jardine, Esq. + +After the names had been respectively answered, the Lord Chief Baron +addressed the grand jury, in a most powerful and impressive speech, in +which he pointed out to their attention the extraordinary case then +about to come on for trial. The grand jury retired. The prisoners were +led into the cages, under the body of the court, where the people sat. +They could hear all the proceedings, and could see, through an iron +grating, all the witnesses in attendance. After the petty jury had been +sworn, and had appointed John Bloomfield, auctioneer and farmer, their +foreman, they took their seats, and various true bills were handed into +court against the prisoners, whose trials then came on. After an hour or +two, a paper was handed from the grand jury box, to the clerk of +arraigns; it was announced as "a true bill against Margaret Catchpole, +for horse-stealing." She presently after heard herself summoned by name; +and with trembling hand and foot, ascended the steps of the dock, and +stood before the bar. The court was crowded to excess, and upon the +bench sat more ladies than gentlemen. The judge cast a severe glance at +the prisoner, evidently expecting to find a bold, athletic female, of a +coarse and masculine appearance. Margaret was dressed in a plain blue +cotton gown, and appeared deeply dejected. She seemed to be inwardly +engaged in prayer. Once she looked round the court, to see if she could +discover the person of her lover, or the instigator to the crime for +which she was arraigned. Her eye rested only upon her aged father and +her affectionate brother Edward, who stood beneath her, close to the +bar. The workings of nature were too powerful to be resisted, and tears +rolled down the old man's cheeks, as he gave his hand to his daughter. +She kissed it, and let fall upon it the hot drops of agony. + +"Prisoner at the bar, you stand committed upon your own confession, +before two of his majesty's justices of the peace for the county of +Middlesex, of having, on the night of the 23rd of May last past, stolen +from the stable of your late master, John Cobbold, Esq., of St. +Margaret's Green, Ipswich, a strawberry roan-grey coach gelding, and of +having rode the same from Ipswich to London that night; and being in the +act of selling the horse next day following, when you were taken into +custody. For this offence you now stand before the court. How say you, +prisoner at the bar, are you guilty, or not guilty?" + +Margaret looked at her judge, and in a firm though low voice said, +"Guilty, my lord." + +"Prisoner at the bar," resumed the judge, "though you have made this +confession, you are at liberty to retract it, and to plead, 'Not +Guilty,' if you please, and so to take your trial. Your plea of 'Guilty' +will avail you nothing in the sentence which must follow. Consider then +your answer." + +Margaret replied, "I am not able now, my lord, to plead 'Not Guilty.'" + +"Why not?" said the judge. + +"Because I know that I am 'Guilty.'" + +This was too sound an argument to be disputed; and the judge did not +attempt any further explanation. + +Margaret's appearance was not remarkable for beauty, nor was it by any +means unpleasing. Her figure was not masculine. She was tall, and rather +slender. She had a dark eye, dark hair, and a countenance pale from +emotion. + +The judge then addressed her in the following words:--"Prisoner at the +bar, it is my painful duty to address one of your sex in such a +situation. I cannot possibly judge of your motives for committing such a +crime. They do not appear in your confession, and I am at a loss to +conceive what can have induced you to commit it. The sentence to which +you have subjected yourself is death. Have you anything to say why this +sentence of the law should not be passed upon you? Have you any friends +in court to speak to your character?" + +There was evidently a stir in the body of the court, and several persons +were seen crowding forward to the witness-box, and all ready to enter +it. At this juncture the prisoner expressed a wish to know if she might +speak a few words to the judge. + +"Prisoner at the bar," said the Chief Baron, "I am quite ready to hear +what you have to say." + +There was now a hushed and breathless silence in the court, and the +prisoner spoke calmly, clearly, and audibly, in the following words:-- + +"My lord, I am not going to say anything in defence of my conduct, or to +make any excuse whatever for my crimes. I told your lordship that I was +guilty, and guilty I feel that I am. It is not for my own sake, either, +that I am speaking, but that all in this court may take warning from my +bad example. A kinder master and mistress no servant ever had, nor had +ever master or mistress a more ungrateful servant. I have long since +condemned myself, and more severely than your lordship can do it. I know +my crime, and I know its punishment. I feel that, even if the law +acquitted me, my own conscience would still condemn me. But your +lordship may proceed to pass sentence upon my body. I have already felt +assurance of some peace and mercy where I alone could look for it, and +thanks be to God I have not sought it in vain. It has prepared me for +this moment. My master and mistress have forgiven me. Oh! that all +against whom I have offended by my bad example could here do the same! I +do not ask forgiveness of the law, because I have no right to do so. I +have offended, and am subject to the penalty of death. If your lordship +should even change my sentence, and send me out of the country for life, +I should rather choose death, at this time, than banishment from my +father and my friends. Temptation would no longer assail me, and I shall +hope to see them, and all whom I now see before me, in a better world. I +hope your lordship will forgive my words, though you must condemn me for +my actions." + +To attempt a description of the effect of these few words upon the court +would be impossible. The ladies hoped that mercy would be extended to +her. The judge looked at her with mingled astonishment and pity. + +"Are there any persons present," said the judge, "who are ready to speak +to the previous character of the prisoner?" Whereupon the prosecutor, +her master, immediately ascended the witness-box. He stated that the +prisoner had, during the time she lived in his service, always +discharged her duty faithfully. He had reason to believe that she was +neither a hardened nor an abandoned character. He knew from experience +that she was most humane and faithful, and ready to risk her own life in +the service of another. He here mentioned her presence of mind, and the +intrepidity she had so signally displayed in saving the lives of his +children. He stated, moreover, that, for his own part, he never should +have prosecuted the prisoner but that the magistrates in London had +bound him over so to do, and a sense of duty compelled him to adopt this +course. He should always entertain, under all circumstances, a grateful +recollection of her. He particularly recommended her to mercy, because +he did not believe that she had committed the crime in question in +conjunction with any gang of horse-stealers, but that she was the dupe +of an infamous villain, who had persuaded her to steal the horse for +him, and for no pecuniary benefit to herself. He believed her to be a +proper object for royal clemency, and hoped that if his lordship could +find any mitigating circumstances in her favour, that he would give her +the full benefit of them. + +George Stebbing, Esq., surgeon, Ipswich, stated that he had known the +prisoner from her childhood; that in her earliest years she gave promise +of such good character and conduct as would have merited the approbation +of all men. He mentioned her riding the pony to Ipswich. + +Margaret put her head down upon the bar, and, hiding her face in her +hands, sobbed audibly before the whole court. + +The doctor stated that, if she was at that moment at liberty, he would +take her into his own house. He assured his lordship that it was a +romantic hope of seeing her lover, that induced her to listen to the +voice of the tempter who induced her to steal the horse. He prayed for +mercy for her, and handed a petition to the court, signed by many +persons who knew her early history, and bore testimony to her former +good character. + +Her uncle and aunt Leader next spoke in the highest terms of her general +good character. Her first mistress at the Priory Farm gave her also an +excellent character for honesty and humanity, and assured his lordship +that it was an early but unfortunate attachment which had been the cause +of this rash act; adding, that neither she nor her husband would object +to take the prisoner again into their service. + +Several other persons spoke in her favour, and so cordial and so earnest +had been the testimony borne to her character, that in almost every +breast a hope began to prevail that mercy would be extended to her. + +The judge took an unusually long time for deliberation. He was in +conversation with the high sheriff, but what passed between them did not +transpire. The longer he delayed his judgement, the stronger grew the +hopes of mercy. At last, turning round to the body of the court, he +looked for one most awful moment steadfastly at the prisoner; and, when +every eye was riveted upon him, he was seen to take the black cap from +beneath his desk, and to place it upon his head. That dreadful +forerunner of impending condemnation struck forcibly upon the hearts of +all the people assembled. Some ladies fainted, and were carried out of +court. The most perfect stillness ensued, as the Lord Chief Baron +addressed the unhappy creature in the following words:-- + +"Prisoner at the bar, I have paid attention to your address to me, and +to those around you, and am glad to find that you have made a proper use +of the time which has intervened between your committal to prison and +the present moment. Your words show that you are by no means ignorant of +your duty as a member of society, and that you are possessed of strong +sense and much good feeling. I earnestly wish that your conduct had not +been such as to belie that good sense which you possess. It is, however, +the more inexcusable in one who, at the time she was committing an +offence, must have known its heinousness. Your sin, prisoner at the bar, +has found you out quickly, and judgement as speedily follows. I will not +aggravate those feelings of remorse which I am sure you experience, by +any longer dwelling upon the painful situation in which your crimes have +placed you. I trust your own persuasive words will be long remembered by +every one present, and be a warning to all how they suffer themselves to +be betrayed into crime. May your early fate warn them in time to keep +themselves in the path of rectitude and honesty. + +"I must say that, in the whole course of my judicial career, I have +never met with a person who so well knew right from wrong, and who so +extraordinarily perverted that gift. I must say, likewise, that I have +never met with any one who has received so good a former character at +such a moment as the present. The representations that have been made of +your past conduct shall be forwarded to the king, with whom alone the +prerogative of mercy in your case exists. + +"It would be cruelty, however, in me did I not candidly tell you, that +the crime for which you are now to suffer is one of such frequent, bold, +and in this day, daring commission, as to defy the authority of the law; +so that persons detected and brought to judgement, as you are, stand but +little chance of mercy. It is not in my power to give you any hope of +escaping the full punishment of the law, but I will represent your case +this very night, before I sleep, to the proper quarter whence any +alteration in your behalf can alone be obtained. + +"I need scarcely tell you not to rely upon any false hopes which friends +may hold out to you, who would grieve the more could they see the +danger and distress which they thereby occasion. Let me rather entreat +you to continue that attention to the interest of your soul which has +already been well instructed and fortified against the present crisis. +You have to prepare, prisoner at the bar, for a greater trial, a more +awful moment; and I hope you will make good use of the short time which +remains in preparation for eternity. You appear to have been well +assisted hitherto, and the good instruction seems to have fallen upon +productive ground. I hope the increase will continue to the day of your +death. + +"It only remains for me to fulfil my duty, by passing the sentence of +the court upon you, which is-- + +"That you be taken from the place where you now stand, back to the place +whence you came, and thence to the place of execution, and there be +hanged by the neck until you be dead; and may God have mercy upon your +soul!" + +At these last words tears of agony overwhelmed many in the court; but +Margaret herself seemed to be less overcome by the sentence than by the +kind words of the judge. + +She respectfully curtsied to him and the court, and, in the act of +retiring, fell into her father's arms. She was conveyed back to the gaol +in a swoon. + +In the meantime every exertion was made to represent her case favourably +to the judge. A petition was signed by many of the grand jury, as well +as the petty jury, in her behalf, and strong hopes were entertained of a +reprieve. + +These things were not mentioned to the prisoner, who returned to the +cell of condemned felons, to employ her time in "seeking that peace +which the world cannot give." + +A keeper constantly attended her, and a female sat up with her all that +night. She requested to have a Bible, and pen, ink, and paper: these +were granted her. She did not sleep, but read the Sacred Book, sometimes +aloud, sometimes to herself. She also seemed to find great relief in +writing to her friends. One letter which she wrote to her uncle, and +another to her mistress, on that very night, will best evince the state +of her mind and feelings. + + "MY DEAR UNCLE, + + "This will reach you to-morrow before you leave Bury. Give my love + and best thanks to my aunt and friends who spoke this day in behalf + of your unhappy niece; but, when you arrive at Ipswich, be sure and + call and thank that dear old gentleman, Doctor Stebbing. I know he + feels very much for me, but tell him not to distress himself, as if + I were to be lost for ever. Tell him I hope to see him in a better + world. He has been very kind to me in those days when I was most + forlorn, and my Saviour, who then guided me to him, will give him + his reward. For He says, that a cup of cold water given to one of + His most poor and wretched children, shall not be forgotten. + + "Dear uncle, show this letter to the gentleman in whose hands you + have placed the money which I gave you for such purpose, and tell + him that I wish it to be restored to William Laud, its rightful + owner, if he can be found, and will receive it again. If he is not + found, after my death, within the space of one year, I wish it to + be divided into four equal portions: one for my father, one for my + brother Edward, one for yourself, and one for my aunt. + + "Do not mourn for me, dear uncle, for I sincerely believe in God's + forgiveness of my past sins, through the merits of Jesus Christ, my + Saviour. My prayer to God is, 'Increase my faith, O Lord! and + pardon me, as thou didst the malefactor upon the cross;' for I + feel, dear uncle, as if I was justly in that thief's condemnation. + I hope soon, very soon, to be in a better state, and in a happier + world. I wish you and my aunt to come to Ipswich and see me once + more before I suffer. Tell my aunt I wish her to purchase something + decent for my funeral. She will find some money in the corner of + my box, under the linen. Oh! how little did he, who gave me that + money, and who so worthily esteemed me, how little did he think + that any portion of it would be devoted to such a purpose! My dear + uncle, go and comfort my poor father, and my good young brother: I + will write to them before another day is past. I wish my bones to + lie beside my mother's and sister's, in Nacton churchyard. I am + told that on Saturday week I shall probably suffer death. God grant + I may then be prepared! + + "We shall all return to Ipswich as soon as the nine prisoners, whom + Mr. Ripshaw brought to Bury, shall have been tried. Pray for me, + dear uncle! Warn the dear children by my fate. I should like to see + them myself. I wish I could impress upon their young minds the + dreadful feelings of guilt which I have endured, and so prevent + their commission of any crime. I am going to write now to my dear + mistress, and, as you return to-morrow, you must take that letter + and deliver it. God bless you, dear uncle! God's peace be with you! + So no more from your poor affectionate niece, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "Bury Gaol, August 9th, 1797. + "To MR. LEADER, Six Bells Inn, Bury." + + "To MRS. COBBOLD. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "My trial is over, and I dare say my dear master has already told + you the fate of your unhappy servant. He cannot, however, tell you + what I can, and what will better please your good heart than the + account of my trial, namely, that I am not so disconsolate as many + persons may think I am. No; God be praised, and thanks to those + dear friends who visited me in the Ipswich gaol; and chiefly thanks + to you, among them, my dear lady; my heart is consoled with the + prospect of soon seeing better things than this wicked world can + show me. Oh! my dear lady, I hope to see you among those bright + shining spirits who live for ever in harmony and love. Oh! how + happy shall we then be, free from fear of pain or grief! I have + just been reading that beautiful passage, where it is written, 'God + shall wipe all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more + death, neither sorrow nor crying; neither shall there be any more + pain.' Oh! what a different world must that be to this; and what + should make us grieve to leave this world? It is only the fear of + future wrath that can prevent our joyfully looking up to heaven + through the valley of death. And, dearest lady, if such a wretched + being as I am can hope in that Saviour who died for me and all the + world, surely, you, dear lady, must have a bright, a pleasant + prospect, before you. Heaven bless you, for all your goodness to me + in the days of my prosperity, but more for your Christian charity + in the day of my adversity! The judge, who really, I think, + reminded me of you, told me I had been well instructed; I wish he + knew you, dear madam, and he would then be assured of it. Thank my + kind master for his goodness to his unworthy servant. I had no hope + of mercy from the first, and the judge told me not to trust in any + such idea in this world. He spoke much less severely than I + expected; but I was prepared for his condemnation, and I am now + preparing my mind for the day of execution. I find great comfort in + the Scriptures, because I have no secret pangs of unconfessed + guilt, or any wish in my heart to cover or palliate my offences. My + trial is over, and the same God who sustained me through it, will, + I hope, preserve my spirit faithful to the last. Every moment seems + valuable to me, dear lady, now that I know them to be so soon + numbered; and I scarcely like to lose one even in sleep. Nature, + however, is weary with fatigue and anxiety, though my spirit seems + so wakeful. If I go to sleep, it will be in prayer for you and all + my friends. That God may bless you and all your dear family, is + the heartfelt desire of your unfortunate, though ever grateful + servant, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "BURY GAOL, August 9th, 1797. + + "P.S.--My good uncle Leader will bring this, of whom you can ask + any particulars, as he was in court during my trial." + +On the 11th of August, a letter arrived from the Home Office, in London, +giving full powers to the judge to exercise the prerogative of mercy in +her case, as he might see fit. The judge was not in court at the time, +but in his own rooms. He sent immediately for the sheriff and the +prosecutor, Mr. Cobbold, and explained to them the purport of the letter +he had received. He thought, however, that some punishment should mark +the sense of crime. He therefore commuted the sentence of death for the +shortest period of transportation for seven years; and he signed the +necessary document for such purpose. He intimated that that period might +be shortened by the good conduct of the prisoner in gaol; for as there +was great difficulty now in sending prisoners to the new settlement, her +portion of confinement would most likely be spent in the Ipswich Gaol. +The judge added, that the woman appeared to be a most sensible creature; +and he made many most minute inquiries concerning her education and +habits. He said that she had conducted herself during her trial in a +very becoming manner, and he hoped that her punishment would end with +half the term of confinement. This would depend upon the representations +of the visiting magistrates. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE REPRIEVE AND REMOVAL + + +The feelings of Margaret Catchpole under the new circumstances which now +awaited her, will be best explained by a letter written by her to Mrs. +Cobbold immediately after the communication of the happy tidings, and +her consequent removal to Ipswich Gaol. + + "IPSWICH GAOL, Sunday Evening, August 13th, 1797. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "You have heard of your poor servant's reprieve. I had no time to + write you word yesterday, because of the bustle of our return, and + the general congratulations of the prisoners. Mr. Ripshaw has + permitted me to have pen, ink, and paper, this evening, and I + hasten to write my heart. Good Mr. Sharp has been warning me + against too great exultation in my change, and very kindly says to + me in words of truth: 'Sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon + thee.' This was his subject in the chapel to-day. I certainly do, + even now, feel very different to what I did when I wrote to you + last, dear lady, from Bury. I had then made up my mind to die, and + hoped to live for ever. I now make up my mind to live; but I hope + not to die for ever. No, dear lady; if I thought that life being + granted to me now was only to make my future dangers greater, I + should grieve that I did not rather suffer before this time. + + "Life is sweet and to be desired, whilst the hope of becoming good, + and doing good in our time, exists. God grant that such hope may be + realized in my life! Oh! my dear lady, if by living I could only + imitate you more nearly, I should then be full of hope. I feel, + however, that temptation will assail me, when I leave this place + and enter again into the world. Here I am well taught and well + guarded against many temptations. I have many dear friends too, who + take such an interest in me, that I am afraid of being vain, though + God has shown me I have indeed nothing to be vain of, except it be + of such as you, dear lady, who take notice of such a creature as + myself. + + "Oh! what a happy Sabbath-day has this been to me! I am so thankful + that my heart can sing psalms all the day long. I am very grateful + for this paper and pen, that I may be able to speak to you, my dear + madam, in this way. You taught me to read and write, and these are + my great recreations. Pray lend me some good books to read, and if + you would let me see some of your own dear writing, it would be a + great blessing to me. + + "I have now seven years' confinement to look forward to. Oh! that I + may greatly improve my time! Beneath your help, what may I not gain + in my prison! It may be some weeks before I see your dear, loved + face, as I hear that you are very near increasing your family. I + would not have you come into this place at such a time on any + account. But, as I am so near you, a word or a message, just to let + me know that you, my master, and family are well, would lighten my + burden. + + "Mr. Ripshaw has promised that I shall have plenty of employment. + Work of any sort, you know, dear lady, is always agreeable to me. + To be doing nothing is death to me. He tells me, moreover, that if + I conduct myself well, he will not fail to represent my case to the + magistrates for a shortening of the period of my captivity. I + received some hint of this from the chaplains at Bury. You may be + sure, dear lady, that I will do all I can to serve Mr. Ripshaw, and + to merit the recommendation of the magistrates. I hope your dear + children are well. I never was so happy as when nursing Master + Roland; I hope I shall see him soon again. + + "Pray, dear madam, give my duty to my master, and to the young + ladies and gentlemen; and accept the same from your ever grateful + servant, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE." + +Margaret was true to her good intentions. She became very industrious +and trustworthy in the service of Mrs. Ripshaw, the governor's wife; and +made herself useful in every possible way to her new mistress. In fact, +she became an invaluable person in the gaol. She exercised a moral +influence over those of her own sex who were inmates of the prison, such +as no matron could hope to attain. + +Her father and brother often came to see her, and occasionally they +brought her a luxury which reminded her of the days of liberty--"a +harvest cake." + +The reader will not be surprised to learn that Margaret still, +sometimes, asked after Will Laud. Her brother could give her but an +indifferent account of what he heard of him; one question, however, of +most vital import to the still lingering hopes of poor Margaret, +namely--"Is he single still?" he could answer in the affirmative. As a +set-off against this, she learned that he was still deeply engaged in +smuggling transactions. + +In the winter of 1797, Margaret lost her father, who was taken off by a +bad fever, which at that time raged fiercely in the neighbourhood. + +The following letter to her brother Edward speaks her feelings on this +event:-- + + "IPSWICH GAOL, December 21st, 1797. + + "DEAR EDWARD, + + "My sins appear to me doubly great, because they have prevented my + fulfilling my duties to my dear father in his illness. They oppress + me, because, but for them, I should have found such comfort in + being able to wait upon him. Oh that I had wings to fly from this + place to Nacton! if only for once to be present at the last duties + we can any of us pay to those whom we love. But I cannot come, so I + send you this letter. My tears fall upon it, whilst I write it. He + was such a dear good old man to us all. Can I ever forget him? + Never! You and he both stood near me upon my trial. + + "Ah! Edward, I do think my ill-conduct has killed him. He was + always so fond of me, that I think he has never recovered the shock + of that day. Yet he seemed well, and rejoiced to see me, with the + hope of happier and brighter times. But he is gone, and all our + grief, dear brother, will be useless. If we continue to walk in the + right path, we shall meet him hereafter. We shall go to him; he + cannot come to us. Yet, I wish I could join you in the churchyard; + but I may not leave the prison for one moment. It is an indulgence + no prisoner is allowed. Mr. Ripshaw has promised me that I shall + have the afternoon of to-morrow to myself, which I shall employ in + reading, and thinking about the burial service. + + "Dear old man! he promised to spend Christmas-day with me in my + cell. He is in a happier place, where joy and peace will make every + day his Christmas. I shall think of you to-morrow at two o'clock. + Do you remember, Edward, the evening of our mother's funeral? Do + you remember the stranger's visit, and that stranger our brother + Charles? This melancholy time reminds me of him. You will have a + dreary home now. Oh that I had power to make it happier! + + "I am glad the Cracknells are still near you, and that they are + kind to you; though their misfortunes and mine have kept pace with + each other. Never mind, Edward, what cruel people say to you about + their prophecies concerning my downfall. They only tell you these + things to aggravate you. The time may come when they will + impudently say, they prophesied my rise and progress in the world. + I hope better days are coming. + + "You must come and see me as soon as you can; for I feel at this + time very low and sorrowful. So my dear brother, do come and see + me, when you are able to spare the time. Pray for me, and I will + not cease to do so for you. My dear mistress has promised to send + this by an especial messenger. How kind of her to think of one so + unworthy as your affectionate sister, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE." + +In the spring of 1798, Edward Catchpole, finding the notoriety his +sister had obtained occasioned him much annoyance, left the +neighbourhood of Ipswich, and went into Cambridgeshire, where he +obtained a situation as shepherd, and was always a respectable +character. Poor Margaret felt this loss keenly, though a letter from him +now and then cheered her spirits.[10] + +Her kind friends in Ipswich made her many little presents, which she +treasured up against the time she should go out. She hoped it might be +in three years. Inquiries were frequently made concerning her conduct, +which was uniformly orderly and good. She was the most useful person +that Mrs. Ripshaw ever had in the prison. + +Margaret never made use of one single shilling of that money which Laud +had thrown down for her. She always thought that the time would come +when it might be claimed; and looked upon it as a sort of confidential +deposit, for which she was answerable. No individual could have acted +with more scrupulous and faithful regard. + +Time swept on, and Margaret had spent two years of good conduct in the +Ipswich gaol. The magistrates had told Mr. Ripshaw they should recommend +her at the Midsummer assizes, when she was mentioned in high terms to +the Lord Chief Baron. But the crime of horse-stealing still continued, +day by day, to be a growing evil; and, as if Margaret was made to feel +the consequence of others' crimes, no mitigation of her sentence was yet +granted. It had been injudiciously told her by some friend, who, no +doubt, meant it kindly, that an application had been made to the judge +for the shortening of the period of her imprisonment. This made her feel +very anxious; and it proved a great disappointment to her when she found +that the interest made in her behalf was ineffectual. Her mind was +unhinged, and her spirit grew restless, anxious, and oppressed. Her +mistress observed these symptoms with concern, and dreaded a return of +that irritability which had formerly rendered her so miserable. + +But where was William Laud? At his old trade. He was deeply concerned in +that affair at Dunwich, where William Woodward and Benjamin Lawsey, two +boatmen belonging to his majesty's Customs at Southwold, were beaten and +thrown into the sea; and the government offered one hundred pounds +reward for the apprehension of any one of the offenders. Forty empty +carts were seen by these two men, standing ready for a run, with horses +and men in a lane at Dunwich. The reward was offered in the county +newspapers of the date of March 2nd, 1799. + +Such a system of open fraud was carried on along the whole coast of +Norfolk and Suffolk about this time, that the revenue of the kingdom +began to suffer severely in the customs. In the month of March of the +second year of her imprisonment, Mr. Gooch, officer of excise at +Lowestoft, and Mr. Burdell, of Aldborough, seized 880 gallons of gin, +belonging to Will Laud and his company; and the evidence brought the +affair so clearly home to him that he was taken up and sentenced to be +imprisoned one year in the Ipswich gaol, and to pay a fine of one +hundred pounds to the king. His property was seized and confiscated; +smuggled goods were found upon his premises, and he became a penniless +bankrupt, and an inmate of that very prison where the devoted Margaret +was suffering on his account. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 10: All traces of Edward Catchpole having been lost, the +author is obliged to Henry T. Bourne, Esq., of Alford, in Lincolnshire, +for making known to him, since the publication of the work, the +circumstances which are here briefly narrated. + +Edward Catchpole went into Lincolnshire, and resided some time at +Sutton-in-the-Marsh. He was always fond of the sea, and for some years +became mate of the _Argus_ revenue cutter. In this vessel, he was +present at the rescue of an English coal brig, from the _Star_, French +privateer; and having put men on board the brig, sufficient to carry her +into port, he pursued the privateer, brought her to close quarters, and +having only twenty-seven men on board the cutter, he was overpowered, +and at ten o'clock at night compelled to surrender, as the privateer had +eighty-six men against him. + +This was on the 18th September, 1807. He was made prisoner, and having +spent seven years in confinement, he made his escape, and reached home +in safety. + +He was afterwards appointed chief officer of the coastguard, at +Sutton-in-the-Marsh, in the county of Lincoln. Though a very brave man, +and a steady officer, he did not appear to have any very serious notions +of religion, until he was compelled by a serious wound to keep at home. +It was the blessing of God to him, and others, that this accident +happened to him, for his mind appears to have been awakened to a deep +sense of his past sins, and his soul very much aroused to inquiry, by +the kindness of an excellent neighbour, who dressed his wounds for him, +and did her best endeavours to pour in consolation upon his broken +heart. + +He became sensible of his need of a Saviour; and never after forsook the +help he found in his necessity, but became useful and exemplary, and +even the means, by the blessing of God, of saving others of his comrades +and companions. He died on the 17th of December, 1836, after affording +to all around him, a Christian example of patience under suffering +affliction. + +He was interred in the churchyard at Sutton, and a stone at the head of +his grave contains the following inscription:-- + + IN MEMORY OF + EDWARD CATCHPOLE, + A NATIVE OF IPSWICH, + IN THE COUNTY OF SUFFOLK, + AND LATE CHIEF OFFICER OF THE + COASTGUARD + STATIONED AT THIS PLACE, + WHO DIED DECEMBER THE 17TH, 1836, + AGED 58 YEARS. + +_Sutton-in-the-Marsh_, Jan. 1847.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE ESCAPE + + +Margaret had not heard of the capture of Laud; and he, even in his then +degraded condition, looked upon it as a thing not to be desired that she +should hear of. She had been engaged in washing for Mrs. Ripshaw. At +that time the large linen-horses belonging to the gaol stood in the +passage between the debtors' and felons' yards. Margaret had occasion to +remove those horses into the drying-ground. For this purpose she had to +pass through the governor's apartment into the thoroughfare between +these two yards. A strong palisade of oak, with sharp tenter-hooks on +their tops, stood on each side of this stone passage, leading from the +turnkey's lodge to the governor's rooms at the centre of the prison. As +Margaret was in the act of removing one of these horses, she saw a +sailor standing by the wall on the debtors' side. A sailor in prison +would interest her at any time; but this sailor looked so very like Will +Laud that she stood still with astonishment. He evidently saw her, and +as he approached toward the place where she stood, her heart was +convulsively beating, and a tremor came over her limbs. He came nearer: +it was Laud. She saw him again after the lapse of years; him whom her +earliest and warmest feelings had acknowledged as her lover. She had +never in her heart deserted him for an hour; yet he had hardly ever been +constant to anything. He approached, however, and Margaret, pretending +to be engaged in removing the linen-horses, felt her hands and feet +tremble exceedingly. She heard the well-known voice, which sounded like +music in her ears, say, "Margaret, is that you? How are you, Peggy?" She +tried all she could to summon courage to speak, but her heart was so +full, her breast heaved so rapidly, that she could not utter a word; +tears stood in her eyes, and she tried to smile through them; but, in +the act of lifting one of those great horses off the pegs, her hands and +knees could not support the weight, but down fell the horse upon her, +and cast her, with considerable force and clatter upon the stone-flag +pavement. + +The noise of the fall brought out the governor and the turnkey at the +same moment, who, both concluding that the weight had overpowered her, +ran to her assistance, whilst the sailor, well knowing he could be of no +use, walked quietly away. No one in the gaol knew that he was Margaret's +lover. She was carried into the governor's house. The turnkey said he +had often removed the horses, considering they were too heavy for a +female to lift, though they were frequently carried by them. Margaret +told Mr. Ripshaw that the over-exertion had for a moment produced a +dizziness in her head, and a sudden faintness came upon her before she +fell. She dreaded, however, lest any one should imagine the real cause +of her accident. Her friend, the surgeon of the gaol, Mr. George +Stebbing, was sent for; and when he saw her he bled her, considering +that she had received some internal injury. It was a good thing he did +so, for it reduced her to such real weakness as confined her some days +to her bed, and afforded time for reflection. + +Mrs. Ripshaw had promised Mrs. Cobbold, that if Margaret should be ill +at any time she would let her know it, and she now fulfilled that +promise. She sent her a note to tell her how the accident occurred, and +how she was. Mrs. Cobbold came immediately, and found her in an +unaccountable state of agitation. She at once asked Margaret if +anything particular had occurred, but she elicited nothing satisfactory. + +No one in the gaol except Margaret knew Will Laud, and no one took any +particular notice of him but her. A letter, which was afterwards found +upon his person, shows how truly that poor girl had loved so unworthy a +man. Opportunities of occasional words were at different times offered +and seized upon by them, though these were few and far between. By +these, however, Margaret learned that he was a ruined man, sentenced to +a year's imprisonment, and to pay a fine of one hundred pounds to the +king; that in all probability his confinement might be for years, as +everything he possessed had been confiscated; his boats, ships, and +stock, had been seized; and yet imprisonment was to continue till the +penalty was paid. + +The letter which Margaret wrote to him about this period, and contrived +to give into his hands, showed how deeply she entered into his past as +well as present feelings, and is a noble specimen of her devoted +affection:-- + + "FELONS' CELL, Jan. 10th, 1800. + + "DEAR WILLIAM, + + "You may guess my surprise to hear you say that John Cook knew + nothing about you; that he invented a lie to get me to steal the + horse. This accords, however, with my beloved mistress's opinion. + Oh! how glad I am that I did not let out the secret that I had + money of yours in hand! I should have lost everything if I had. He, + a villain, induced me to go to London with the hope of seeing you + at the Dog and Bone, Lambeth. He told me that you were hiding from + the fear of arrest, and had confided to him your place of safety. + He even showed me a letter purporting to come from you. Oh! what an + artful villain!--what punishment he deserves! + + "But, dear William, make yourself easy about the fine. I will send + for my uncle Leader before the time of your imprisonment expires, + and the hundred and thirty guineas shall be given up to you. He + shall pay the fine for you, and shall give you the remainder. You + will own now that I am trustworthy. Oh! how happy I am that I did + not make away with it, nor suffer others to do so! I kept it for + you, and it comes into use at the moment it is most wanted. Nobody + need know how it is disposed of; only remember your poor Margaret, + that she longs for the shortening of her confinement, that she may + join herself with your fortunes wherever they may be. + + "You will soon regain your liberty. I may have to complete my seven + years here. But will you be faithful and wait for me? You promise + fairly. You say you will live at Sudbourn, and try to get an honest + living. Every hour of the day I am thinking about you; and at night + I dream sometimes that I am sailing upon the ocean with you; + sometimes that I am living with my father and brother. But dreams + are deceitful. I hope you will never prove such to me again. I am + willing to join my fate to yours whenever I obtain my release. Pray + God that may be soon. Oh! that it could come on the day of your own + release! but come or not then, believe me ever + + "Your affectionate + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE." + +Not long after the date of this letter, application was made to the +Secretary of State for her pardon; but, unfortunately for her, the same +causes which had operated against her before still prevailed. The crime +of horse-stealing was at this date at its highest pitch, and depredators +of this kind became so bold, that it was thought necessary to give a +positive denial to the application in Margaret's favour. The prospect of +her release, therefore, did not appear a bright one, and every month +seemed to make it less probable. + +The time for the departure of Laud out of prison now drew nigh, and +Margaret wrote to her uncle, requesting him to come and see her, which +he did; and she then gave him full powers to withdraw the 130 guineas +from Mr. Smith, and requested him to pay £100 into the hands of Mr. +Ripshaw on a certain day; namely, the 5th of March, the day previous to +Laud's term of imprisonment expiring. + +Mr. Leader was well assured that she would never draw the money, except +to restore it to Will Laud. He asked her the plain question. She gave +him an honest answer. She told him that Will was then in prison, and +that his liberty depended upon the punctuality of the payment. Her +honesty with her uncle saved her from detection, for, in all +probability, had not Mr. Leader had more prudence than she had, it might +have been suspected by the gaoler. He at once suggested that Mr. Smith, +who was not known to have any connexion with her, should be requested to +pay the fine to Mr. Ripshaw, in behalf of the prisoner. It struck +Margaret, the moment it was mentioned, and she felt surprised that the +hurry and anxiety of her own feelings should have so greatly blinded her +as to leave her destitute of common prudence in this matter. + +It was on the 3rd of March, in the year 1800, that Margaret was destined +to undergo the severest temptation she had ever yet experienced. She had +been employed in washing for the prisoners, and was engaged hanging out +the linen in the passage on one of the clothes-horses used for that +purpose, when she was accosted from the debtors' side in a well-known +voice, "Margaret! what a capital ladder one of those horses would make, +if set against the wall!" + +She turned round, and there stood Will Laud. Cautiously she looked along +the passage to see if any one was near. She pretended to be busily +engaged; at the same time she said,-- + +"Ah, William! I understand you. I wish I could make my escape with you, +and I would; but I fear the thing is too difficult." + +"You might manage it, Margaret, when the governor goes to Bury with the +prisoners." + +"How, William! How?" + +"You have the horse, and you have the linen line. Look around the wall, +and see if you cannot find a place of escape. You must be tired of your +captivity. I owe my liberty to you; and if I can once get you out of +this place, no power on earth shall separate us again." + +"But where should I go, William, if I got out?" + +"To my sister's at Sudbourn, Lucy Keeley. I will tell her to expect +you." + +"That would do. I will look round and see if it can be done. On the 19th +or 20th of this month, Mr. Ripshaw goes to Bury with the prisoners. On +Monday the 24th, and Tuesday the 25th, are our two great washing days. +It must be one of those nights. Will you be waiting for me at the end of +the lane, near St. Helen's Church?" + +"I will be waiting for you, never fear. I will have a sailor's jacket +and hat to disguise you in." + +"Well, the trial is worth the risk. I will confide in you once more, +Laud; but if you deceive me, then, indeed, I care not what becomes of +me. But I will trust you. Go!--There is some one coming." + +Laud departed, and Margaret busied herself with the linen. That day she +had many things given her to mend. She contrived also to get a candle, +under the pretence of working late. And such was the confidence which +was placed in her, and such the quantity of work she performed, that she +was trusted beyond any other prisoner in the house. + +Margaret knew nothing of the penalty the law would compel her to pay for +breaking out of prison. She knew nothing of the bond by which the gaoler +was bound, in case of the escape of any of his prisoners. She saw but +her lover and liberty, and did not suppose it any great offence, even if +she should be detected in the attempt. + +Her uncle Leader paid her a visit on the 5th, and gave her the thirty +guineas, telling her that the hundred guineas were lodged in the hands +of Mr. Ripshaw for the discharge of Will Laud. + +"I will give William this money myself," thought Margaret; but she +breathed not one word of her intended escape to her uncle; and the good +man left her with the conscious happiness, that let her term of +confinement be what it might, she had been instrumental in procuring the +release of her lover. + +It was a proud day for Margaret, that 6th of March, 1800. From the +felons' side she could see her lover depart out of gaol in company with +Mr. Ripshaw. She saw him go to the turnkey's lodge; and with a heart at +the same time bounding with the hope of liberty, she walked quietly +round the felons' yard, looking anxiously up at those long spikes to see +where the widest place could be found for her to get her body through. +That very hour she discovered a place where one of the spikes had been +broken off. She looked at it and sighed. She was very thoughtful about +it. It dwelt upon her mind night and day, till she had fully resolved to +make the attempt at that very spot. + +At night, and early in the morning, she was at work for herself. Out of +one sheet she contrived to make a smock-frock, such as shepherds wear +over their clothes. Out of the other she made a pair of sailor's +trousers. These she laid upon her bed in such an ingenious manner, that +no one going into her cell would discover any difference in the usual +make of it. + +Anxiously did she watch the hours for the departure of Mr. Ripshaw with +the prisoners for trial at Bury. In the very cell next to her own was a +felon to be taken away. The anxious time came, and Margaret saw the +governor and prisoners take their departure. + +Meantime, Laud, directly he left the gaol, went to his sister's house at +Sudbourn. He reached that place the same night. He told his sister who +it was that had paid the fine for him, and thus completely won her heart +for Margaret. His plan was fixed to get off with Margaret in a +smuggler's boat, and get a cast to Holland, where he intended to marry +and settle. He told his sister his plan, and she approved it, and +promised to receive Margaret. + +He was not long in ascertaining what boats were expected on the coast. +He had an interview with one David Shaw, the master of a cutter +belonging to Captain Merrells, and with him came to an understanding +that, some day after the 25th, when wind and weather should suit, he +should send a boat ashore for him. A red handkerchief tied round his hat +should be the signal that he was ready. He told him that he should be +accompanied by a friend, whom he wished to go over the water with him. +All these things were arranged, and, as far as they went, were in some +sense honourable. In the meantime he promised to assist in landing any +cargoes along the shore. And this part of the contract he performed. + +On the 19th of March, Mr. Ripshaw, with seven prisoners, departed for +Bury. The business of the assizes began on Thursday, the 20th, and did +not terminate until that day week, the 27th. On Monday and Tuesday the +wash took place. On these occasions the female convicts are all locked +up in one large room, from seven o'clock in the morning until seven in +the evening; their food being brought to them in the washing-room. At +seven in the evening they all go into the felons' yard for exercise and +air. They usually give their signal that the wash is finished by rapping +the door about seven o'clock. This evening, Tuesday, the 25th, Margaret +contrived by various means to prolong the wash till nearly eight +o'clock, and as she had some kind of acknowledged authority and +influence among her fellow-convicts, she insisted upon the signal not +being given till the work was completely finished; so that at eight +o'clock it was quite dark. They were let out of the room into the +felons' yard at that time for one half hour. Some were accustomed to +saunter about, or to have a game of romps. Some, when the season +admitted, would weed the flower-beds; for Mr. Ripshaw was a great fancy +florist, and used to raise the best ranunculuses, carnations, and +polyanthuses, of any person in the town. His garden adjoined the felons' +walk, and was only separated from it by a very low paling. Margaret had +continual access to the garden, and used to take considerable interest +in the culture of the plants. + +She was greatly disappointed to find that all the linen-horses stood on +the stone area, between the debtors' and felons' yards. She had hoped +that they would have been carried by the turnkey to the drying ground in +the garden, as usual, ready for the linen in the morning. Owing to some +cause or other, they were not there that night. + +This was a sad disappointment, for she had made up her mind to escape +that very night. Could she be suspected? Had anybody betrayed her? No, +it was impossible. As the turnkey passed the palings she cried out to +him, "You have not put out the horses for us to-night?" + +"No, Margaret," he replied, "we have all been too busy cleaning the +cells and yards; but they shall be put out the first thing in the +morning." + +The reply was both satisfactory and unsatisfactory. It convinced her she +was not suspected; but declared that she must expect no help from the +linen-horses. She was glad, however, to see that the lines were on the +posts for the coarse linen, and the crotches, or props, in their proper +places. + +She looked around for something to help her. The gaol wall was nearly +twenty-two feet high, and the _chevaux de frise_ three feet from the +point of one revolving spike to its extreme point. What could she get to +assist her? At one time she thought of pulling up a portion of the +paling for a ladder. She tried her strength at it, but it was too much +for her. She then turned her eye upon a large frame, which was used for +the flower-beds. It covered a long bed, and the awning usually placed +upon it to keep the sun off the flowers in the summer was not there. She +tried her strength at this, and lifted the legs upon which it stood +about a foot upwards. This she resolved to make her ladder. She looked +up at the narrow spot where the iron spike had been broken, and which +was close to the shoulder or prop of the _chevaux de frise_. Hope beamed +brightly upon her as she thought of her liberty. Margaret resolved to +make the attempt at midnight. At half-past eight the convicts all went +in to supper, and afterwards retired to their cells. But Margaret, the +moment she reached hers, contrived to slip out of it again, with the +things she had made for her disguise, into the adjoining one, which +stood open; and she crept under the bed of the felon who was gone to +Bury for trial. She had, as usual, closed her own door, and lay +anxiously waiting in her hiding place the turnkey's approach. She heard +him coming along, and asking the several prisoners, as he came, if they +were in their cells. They answered his summons, and then she heard them +locked up; and now came the challenge to her own door. + +"Margaret, are you there?" + +She put her lips to the wall of the cell where she was, and answered, +"Yes." It sounded exactly as if she was in bed in her own cell; and to +her great joy she heard the key turn in the iron lock, and the bolt +shoot into its place. She breathed for a moment freely, but the next +moment she experienced such a sudden revulsion as few could have borne +without detection. To her confusion and dismay, the turnkey entered the +very cell where she lay concealed under the bed. He walked up to the +iron-grated window, and, as usual, the casement stood open for the +benefit of air through the passage, and, in a soliloquizing manner, +said, "Ah! poor Sarah! you will never sleep upon this bed again!" + +In breathless agony did Margaret dread two things equally fatal to her +project. One was, that he should hear her breath in the stillness of the +night, and discover her; the other, that he should lock the door upon +her. She knew that it was not usual to lock the doors of those cells +which contained no prisoners, but she dreaded lest the same absence of +mind which made him saunter into Sarah Lloyd's cell should make him look +the door. What a state of suspense! How did her blood course through her +frame! she could hear her heart beat! She was presently relieved from +her suspense, for the turnkey, having completed his duty in locking up +all his prisoners, quietly departed out of the cell, and left the door, +as usual, standing wide open. Never was relief more opportune or welcome +than this to her overcharged heart. The clock struck the hours of nine, +ten, and eleven, and Margaret had not stirred. She now rose, took her +shoes in her hand, and her bundle under her arm; she then managed to tie +it up with an apron-string over her shoulders, and, with the slightest +tread, stole along the stone passage. A mouse would scarcely have been +disturbed by her as she descended the front of steps that led to the +felons' yard. + +To her great comfort she found the door unbolted; for the turnkey, +having locked every one up, saw no necessity for bolting the yard door. +Silently she opened it; it creaked so little, that the wind prevented +any sound reaching beyond the precincts of the door. She made her way to +the flower-stand in the governor's garden, lifted the frame out of the +ground and set it up endways directly under the broken spike. It reached +a little more than half way up the wall, being about thirteen feet long. +She then went and took the linen line off the posts, and made a running +noose at one end of it. She then took the longest clothes-prop she could +find, and passed the noose over the horn of it. She mounted the frame by +the help of the prop, and standing upon it she lifted the line up and +passed the noose over the shoulder of the _chevaux de frise_, then, +pulling it tight and close to the wall, it slipped down the iron and +became fixed. + +Now came the greatest difficulty she had ever overcome in her life. She +drew herself up by the line to the top of the wall, and laying her body +directly upon the roller where the spike was broken, with the help of +one hand grasping the shoulder of iron, she balanced herself until she +had pulled up all the line and let it fall down the other side of the +wall; then, taking hold of the rope with both hands, she bent her body +forward, and the whole body of spikes revolved, turning her literally +heels over head on the outer side of the gaol wall. Was there ever such +a desperate act performed by any woman before? Had not the fact been +proved beyond all doubt, the statement might be deemed incredible. But +Margaret Catchpole did exactly as here described; and after the +oscillation of her body was over from the jerk, she quietly let herself +down in perfect safety on the other side. + +Just as she alighted on the earth St. Clement's chimes played for twelve +o'clock. It was a gently sloping bank from the wall, and a dry fosse, +which she crossed, easily climbed over the low wooden palings against +the road, and made her way for the lane against St. Helen's church. +There she found Will Laud in readiness to receive her, which he did with +an ardour and devotion that told he was sincere. + +They fled to an empty cart-shed on the Woodbridge road. Here Laud kept +watch at the entrance whilst Margaret put on her sailor's dress. She +soon made her appearance on the road with her white trousers, hat, and +blue jacket, looking completely like a British tar. They did not wait to +be overtaken, but off they started for Woodbridge, and arrived at the +ferry just as the dawning streaks of daylight began to tinge the east. +Their intention was to cross the Sutton Walks and Hollesley Heath to +Sudbourn. Unluckily for them, however, who should they meet at the ferry +but old Robinson Crusoe, the fisherman, who, having been driven round +the point at Felixstowe, was compelled to come up the Deben to +Woodbridge for the sale of his fish. The old man gave them no sign of +recognition, but he knew them both, and, with a tact that few possessed, +saw how the wind blew. But without speaking to either of them, he +proceeded with his basket to the town. + +At this they both rejoiced, and as they took their journey across that +barren tract of land, it seemed to them like traversing a flowery mead. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +PURSUIT AND CAPTURE + + +The morning after Margaret's escape the turnkey was alarmed by the call +of the gardener, who came early to the prison to prune some trees in the +governor's garden. He told the turnkey there was a rope hanging down the +wall, as if some one had escaped during the night. They soon discovered +the frame against the wall; footmarks along the beds, and the linen +crotch, all told the same tale. The turnkey then ran to the men's cells, +and found them all bolted. He did the same to the women's, and found +them likewise fastened just as he left them the night before. He then +examined every window. Not a bar was moved. He did this without speaking +a word to any one. At the usual hour he called up the prisoners, and +marched them out of their cells. Margaret's was the last, at the end of +the passage. When he opened it, no one answered his summons. He walked +in; no one was there. The bed had not been slept in, and was without +sheets. He then made Mrs. Ripshaw acquainted with the facts. +Astonishment and alarm were depicted upon her countenance. Her husband's +absence made the circumstance the more distressing. + +Search was made in every part of the gaol, but no trace of Margaret +could be found. The women with whom she washed the day previously all +declared that they knew nothing of her escape. They declared that they +saw her go before them to the farther end of the passage to her own +cell. But how could she escape and lock the door? The turnkey was quite +sure he had secured her in her own cell, for that he went into the one +adjoining after he had, as he supposed, locked her up in hers. It came +out, however, in the course of inquiry, that he remembered her asking +him about the horses not being set out for the wash; and the women +declared that Margaret had been very peremptory about not giving the +signal before eight o'clock. These things seemed to indicate a design to +escape, and carried some suspicion of the fact. + +Mrs. Ripshaw, however, was not satisfied, but sent a swift messenger on +horseback to Bury St. Edmunds, with a note to acquaint her husband with +the circumstances. Mrs. Ripshaw also wrote to Mrs. Cobbold in the +greatest agitation, begging of her, if she knew where she was, to give +information of it, as her husband and two sureties were bound, under a +penalty of five hundred pounds each, to answer for the escape of any +prisoner from the gaol. Such a stir was created in the town of Ipswich +by this event as was scarcely ever before witnessed. People flocked to +the gaol to see the spot whence Peggy had made her escape, and many were +the reports falsely circulated concerning her. + +It is not easy to describe the grief and consternation which was truly +felt by Margaret's dearest and best friend. She knew the consequences of +this rash act; that, if she was taken, it was death, without any hope of +reprieve. + +She ordered her carriage, and went to the gaol, and was as much, or even +more astonished than the inmates of the prison could be. She soon +convinced Mrs. Ripshaw that she had not the slightest idea of any such +intention on the part of her late servant, neither could she tell where +she was gone. She made inquiries whether she had been seen talking with +any of the male prisoners; but no clue could be gained here. Mrs. +Cobbold was one of those whose decided opinion was, that she must have +had somebody as an accomplice; but every soul denied it. This lady +returned home in the greatest distress and uncertainty. Messengers were +dispatched to Nacton, to Brandiston, and even into Cambridgeshire, to +inquire after her. + +When Mr. Ripshaw returned from Bury, he found some of the magistrates +in the gaol. He had formed a very strong opinion in his own mind, and +requested the visiting magistrates to examine the turnkey immediately. +He was summoned, and examined before Colonel Edgar, Mr. Gibson, and Mr. +Neale, and closely questioned. His answers were not deemed satisfactory. + +The magistrates remanded him for a time, and conversed together upon the +subject. They were of opinion that somebody must have bribed the man, +and that he must have let her out, and have put the things as they were +found, as a blind to turn suspicion from himself. + +He was again summoned, and given in custody, on suspicion of having +assisted the prisoner's escape. + +In the meantime, every exertion was made to discover the prisoner, but +without any success. The following hand-bill was printed and circulated +in every direction:-- + + "FIFTY POUNDS REWARD. + + "Whereas, on Tuesday night, the 25th of March, or early on Wednesday + morning, Margaret Catchpole, a female convict, confined in the Ipswich + gaol, made her escape therefrom, either by scaling the wall, or by the + connivance of the turnkey, this is to give notice, that the above reward + shall be given to any person or persons who will bring the said Margaret + Catchpole to Mr. Ripshaw, the gaoler; and one-half that sum to any + person or persons furnishing such information as shall lead to her + apprehension. And notice is hereby given, that any person concealing or + harbouring the said Margaret Catchpole shall, after this notice, if + detected, be, by order of the magistrates, punished as the law directs. + + "N.B.--The prisoner is a tall and dark person, with short hair, black + eyes, and of intelligent countenance. She had on the gaol dress, and + took away with her the two sheets belonging to her bed. + + "IPSWICH GAOL, March 28th, 1800." + +This notice was circulated far and near, and furnished topics for +conversation throughout the county. + +It so happened that some of the servants of Mrs. Cobbold mentioned the +subject of the reward to the old fisherman, Robinson Crusoe, as he stood +at the back-door with his basket of fish. + +"Well, Robin, have you heard of the reward? Have you heard of Margaret's +escape from the gaol!" + +"No; but I think I have seen her, or the foul fiend has played me one of +his shabby tricks." + +"Seen her, Robin! Where?" + +"I saw that fellow Laud, and somebody very like her, go across the +Sutton Ferry together. She might deceive anybody else, but the foul +fiend showed her to me, though she was in a sailor's dress. I told your +mistress, long ago, that no good would come of Margaret." + +This news reached the parlour, and was soon communicated to Mr. Ripshaw, +who quickly had an interview with Mrs. Cobbold, and from her he learned +the intimacy existing between Will Laud, his late prisoner, and +Margaret, and could not doubt that he had assisted in her escape. He +soon ascertained the probable bearings of Laud's destination, and lost +no time in prosecuting the pursuit. He went off for Woodbridge and +Sutton Ferry directly. The ferryman corroborated the testimony of old +Colson as to two sailors, a slight one and a stout one, passing over the +river in his boat, on the morning of the 26th. They went off directly, +he said, for Eyke. Thither the gaoler pursued his course, and thence to +Sudbourn. + +He found out that two sailors had been seen in that neighbourhood such +as he described them, and that they lodged at Mrs. Keeley's. He took a +constable along with him to the cottage, and at once demanded his +prisoner. The woman at first denied all knowledge of the persons he +sought, but, after threatening her with taking her off to gaol at once, +she confessed that her brother and Margaret were down on the coast, +waiting for a boat to carry them off to sea; she even confessed that +Margaret slept with her only the night before, and that a report having +reached them of the reward offered for her capture, she had put a +smock-frock over her sailor's jacket, and was assisting Keeley, her +husband, in keeping his flock upon the marsh saltings. + +The constable of Sudbourn and Mr. Ripshaw went off immediately for the +saltings. They met Keeley, the shepherd, returning with his flock, to +fold them upon the fallows; but no one was with him. He was a shrewd, +sharp, surly fellow, and in a moment understood what was in the wind. + +Mr. Ripshaw began the attack. "Constable, take that man into custody." + +"Where's your warrant, Mr. Gaoler? 'Old birds are not to be caught with +chaff.' Now, then, your warrant for my apprehension, and I am the man to +go with you. Come, show me the warrant at once; or, you no sooner lift +your hand against me than I will show you what resistance is, and you +shall take the consequences of an assault upon my person." + +The fellow stood with his brawny limbs displayed before them, and his +two fierce, rough-coated, short, flap-eared dogs wagging their stumps of +tails, and looking earnestly in their master's face, to see if he gave +the signal for them to attack either, or both the gaoler and the +constable. It was clear that they must go upon another tack. + +The shepherd gave a shrill whistle to his dogs, and on they dashed, +driving the sheep towards the fold. + +They proceeded directly along the shingled hardware to the beach, or +rather to the shore of the river-side, which in those parts much +resembles the sea-shore. The revenue cutter's boat was then going across +the stream of the Alde; they hailed it, and the officer in command +ordered his men to return. + +It was young Barry who came on shore from the boat, and he immediately +walked a little way apart with the gaoler, who explained to him the +nature of his business; and painful as its connexion with Margaret +Catchpole made it to Barry, his sense of duty compelled him to render +the assistance required. Accordingly, they were soon seated in the stern +of the boat, and were rowed by his men towards the spot, where, on the +main shore, Laud and Margaret stood, anxiously watching the approach of +a boat from a vessel on the sea. + +There they stood, not only unconscious of approaching danger, but +congratulating themselves upon the prospect of a termination of all +their troubles. Joyfully did they watch the boat coming over the billows +of the sea, not seeing the other boat approaching them from the river. A +few minutes more, and they would have been beyond the reach of gaolers +and of prisons. + +Neither Laud nor Margaret saw them until they came down upon them, +headed by the gaoler, whose voice Margaret instantly recognized. With a +wild shriek that made the welkin ring, she rushed into the sea, and +would at once have perished, had not Laud caught her, as a wave cast her +back upon the beach and suddenly deprived her of sense and speech. + +He stood across the seemingly lifeless body of that devoted girl, and +with a pistol in each hand cocked, and presented to the foremost men, +the officer and the gaoler, he exclaimed, "Let us go--we are not +defrauding the revenue--you have no business with us!" + +"_You_ may go unhurt," replied the gaoler, "if you will deliver up the +body of Margaret Catchpole. I must and will have her in my custody." + +"If you do, Mr. Ripshaw, it shall be at the peril of your life, or the +cost of mine. The first man who approaches to touch her shall be a +corpse, or he shall make me one." + +There was such determination in his words and attitude, that every one +saw he would not flinch. It was a painful moment for young Barry; he +wished to save the life of Laud; he did not wish to risk that of any of +his men; he stepped forward, and said,-- + +"Will Laud, let me entreat you to give up the person of Margaret +Catchpole; she has escaped from the custody of the gaoler, and is under +sentence of transportation. I promise that you shall depart in safety, +and that she shall take no hurt. Do not force me to shed blood--we +_must_ take her!" + +The next instant two pistols flashed, and Laud lay stretched upon the +sand. He had first fired at Barry and missed him, and the next moment, +in self-defence, Barry was compelled to fire in return. The ball, which +was intended only to have disabled his arm, passed through his heart and +killed him on the spot. So ended the career of a man who, only in the +few latter days of his life, seemed steadily resolved to act fairly by +the woman who had devoted her life to him, and to follow some honourable +occupation in a foreign land. Poor Susan's words at last proved true: +"Margaret you will never marry William Laud." + +The bodies of Laud and Margaret were both carried by the sailors to the +preventive-service boat, and laid upon the men's cloaks at the bottom of +it. After a while, Margaret began to revive, and her awakening dream +was, that she was on board the smuggler's boat, which was coming to meet +them. But the men in that boat, observing the fearful odds against them, +had only rested on their oars to see the fatal result which took place, +and then turned back and steered for their own vessel. + +Margaret looked wildly round her as the moonlight shone upon the +sailors. She whispered, "Laud! Laud!" She saw something lying in a line +with herself upon the same cloaks, but could not distinguish anything +but a sailor's dress: she heard a voice at the helm which was familiar +to her; she recognized it to be Barry's; she lifted her head, and saw +the banks of the river on both sides of the water. The truth seemed to +flash upon her, for she fell backwards again, fainted away, and became +insensible. + +She and her lover were conveyed to the Ship Inn at Orford. The sailors +who carried her, sensible of the devoted heart of the poor girl, seemed +oppressed with heaviness, and could not refrain addressing one another, +in their own peculiar style, upon the bad job of that night. Margaret +became too soon and too fully acquainted with her situation. She shed +tears of the deepest agony; her mind was distracted, and without +consolation. She did not speak to any one; but between sobs, and groans, +and lamentations upon her loss, she seemed the most melancholy picture +of human woe. By what she had heard from some of the pitying sailors +around her, she understood that it was young Edward Barry who had shot +her lover. When he came into the room where she was seated in an +arm-chair, with her head resting in an agony upon her hand, he went up +to speak to her. She lifted up her hands, turned her head aside, and +exclaimed-- + +"Begone, wretch! Did you not voluntarily promise you would never hurt +him?" + +"And so I would, Margaret, if he would have permitted me to do so. But +he would not. He first fired at me, and then I returned it; but only +with the intention of disarming him." + +"You have done a noble deed, and one which will immortalize your name, +one which will form a source of happy reflection to you hereafter, most +noble man of war! You have killed a harmless man, and have taken captive +a poor fugitive female! Happy warrior! you will be nobly rewarded!" + +"Do not reproach me, Margaret, but forgive me. I have only done my duty; +and, however painful it has been, you would not reproach me, if you did +but know how much I really grieved for you." + +"Your grief for me will do me about as much good as mine will poor +William!" and here Margaret burst into a flood of tears, which words +could not in any way repress. + +A post-chaise was ordered to the inn-door, and Margaret, apparently more +dead than alive, was placed within it, and the gaoler taking his seat +beside her, they were conveyed immediately to Ipswich. + +She was once more confined within those walls which she had so recently +scaled; she made no secret of the manner in which she had effected her +escape; she fully confessed her own work, and perfectly exonerated every +other person in the gaol. + +It was well for the poor turnkey that she was captured. He was +immediately released from confinement, and reinstated in his office. + +Margaret was now kept in almost solitary confinement, to mourn over her +unhappy lot, and to reflect upon the death of one whom she had loved too +well. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +SECOND TRIAL, AND SECOND TIME CONDEMNED TO DEATH + + +After the arrival of Margaret at the Ipswich gaol, several magistrates +attended, at the request of Mr. Ripshaw, to take the deposition of the +prisoner. She was summoned into the gaoler's parlour, or, as it was more +properly called, the "Magistrates' Room." The depositions of Mr. Ripshaw +and of the constable of Sudbourn, were first taken down. The nature of +the offence was then for the first time explained to Margaret, and its +most dreadful consequences at once exposed. She was taken completely by +surprise. She had no idea that, in doing as she had done, she had been +guilty of anything worthy of death, and made no hesitation in telling +the magistrates so. She told them, moreover, that her conscience did not +accuse her of any crime in the attempt, and that she thought it a cruel +and bloody law which could condemn her to death for such an act. + +"But are you aware," said Mr. Gibson, one of the visiting magistrates, +"that you have broken that confidence with Mr. Ripshaw which he placed +in you, and that you subjected him and his sureties to the penalty of +five hundred pounds each, had he not recovered you, and brought you back +to prison?" + +"Had I been aware of such a thing, I should then have thought myself as +bad as if I had stolen the money, and should, indeed, have broken the +confidence which, with such a knowledge, would have been placed in me, +but I knew nothing of such a fact. My master, Mr. Ripshaw, was always +kind and indulgent to me, and my mistress the same, but they never +hinted such a thing to me. I was not aware that, with regard to my +personal liberty, there was any bond of mutual obligation between me and +my master. I was always locked up at the usual time, and it never was +said to me, 'Margaret, I will rely upon your honour that you will never +attempt to escape.' No promise was exacted from me, and I did not think +that it was any breach of confidence to do as I have done." + +"You do not consider that you might have ruined an innocent man; that +the turnkey was actually committed upon suspicion of having connived at +your departure, as nobody would believe that you could have done such an +act of your own accord." + +"I might not have done it of my own accord, though I certainly did it +without the assistance of any human being. He, alas! is dead who +persuaded me to it, though I confess it did not require any very great +degree of persuasion; and I fear that, were he living now, I should +almost attempt the same again." + +"There you speak contemptuously, and in a very unbecoming manner, young +woman." + +"I did not mean to be disrespectful to you, gentlemen, especially as you +are so kind as to explain to me the nature of the law. I only meant to +express my own weakness. But may I ask what law it is that makes the act +I have been guilty of so felonious as to deserve death?" + +"You may ask any question you please, but you must not add defiance to +your impropriety and guilt. You are sensible enough to be well assured +that the magistrates here present are not your judges. They have a duty +to perform to their country; and they consider it a privilege and an +honour that their sovereign places them in the situation of such an +active service as to send prisoners before the judge; that such as +transgress the laws, and render themselves unfit to enjoy rational +liberty, should be punished, as men not worthy to be members of a well +organized and civilized community. By the law of the land you live in, +you have once been condemned to death for horse-stealing. By the mercy +of your king, you have had a reprieve, and a commutation of that +sentence of death for transportation for seven years. The period you +have spent in gaol is part of that sentence. Now understand the law:-- + +"'Any prisoner breaking out of gaol, if he resist his gaoler, may be +killed on the spot, in the attempt of the gaoler to restrain him. And +any person breaking out after sentence of death, shall be considered +liable to that punishment for his original offence, which had been +commuted, and shall suffer death accordingly. If he escape through the +door of his prison, when left open, it shall not be felony, because it +is the negligence of the gaoler; but if he break out, after proper +caution exercised for his security, either by force in the day, or by +subtlety in the night, then it shall be felony.' + +"Such is the law; and though in your case, young woman, you may not +consider it just, yet when you reflect upon your example to others, you +will see it in a different light. If every prisoner should go unpunished +who broke out of prison what continual attempts would be made to escape! +I am truly sorry for your case; but the law is made for offenders; and +it is our duty to send you to Bury again for trial. In the meantime, the +gaoler will be upon the alert, and take good care that you do not commit +the same offence again." + +Margaret thanked Mr. Gibson for his explanation. She felt very sorry, +she said, if she had offended any one, and hoped they would forgive her +ignorance and unintentional offence. + +She was fully committed to take her trial for the second offence. Mr. +Gibson was much astonished at her presence of mind and singularly acute +understanding, as well as appropriate and becoming form of speech, which +she used as naturally as she felt it. His words to one deeply interested +for Margaret were, "What a pity that such a woman should not know the +value of her liberty before she lost it!" + +The reader knows the reason why Margaret broke out of prison, and has +seen how she became a second time amenable to the laws. He will observe, +that it was from her acquaintance with that desperate man, who had been +the cause of misery to her and her family, from the first days of her +acquaintance with him. But he was now dead. The cause was removed, and +with it died every wish of her heart for life and liberty. + +But it was not the place that made Margaret so unhappy. It was the void +occasioned by the having no one now to love, that made her feel as if no +one in the world loved her. In this she was greatly mistaken; for though +her offence had occasioned much condemnation among those who were +interested in her, yet they were not so lost to pity and compassion as +not to feel for her sufferings. Among the foremost of those friends was +her former mistress, who, in the true sense of the word, was charitable. + +As soon as she heard that Margaret was retaken, she saw at once all the +dreadful consequences which awaited her, and knew that she would require +more than double attention and care. Her first step was an application +to a magistrate (Mileson Edgar, Esq., of the Red House), for an order to +visit Margaret in prison, and the application was immediately granted in +the following letter from that gentleman:-- + + "RED HOUSE, May 10th, 1800. + + "MY DEAR MADAM, + + "Any request that you would make would be sure to meet with prompt + attention from me, because I am well assured that you would not + make one which I could not grant, and which, when granted, would + not give me pleasure to have attended to. Herewith I send you an + order to Mr. Ripshaw to admit you to visit Margaret Catchpole + during her confinement in the Ipswich gaol. What an extraordinary + being she is! a clever, shrewd, and well-behaved person, yet + strangely perverted in her judgement! She actually cannot be + persuaded that she has offended against the laws of her country. + You will, I trust, my dear madam, by the exercise of your influence + and judgement, convince her of her folly. I am truly glad that you + intend going to see her; for next to the pleasure derived from + granting your request is the comfort I derive from the prospect of + great benefit therein to the prisoner. + + "Believe me, my dear madam, + "Ever yours sincerely, + "MILESON EDGAR. + + "To MRS. COBBOLD, St. Margaret's Green, Ipswich." + +The visit was soon paid to poor Margaret in her cell, and it was one of +deep interest and importance, inasmuch as it paved the way for a better +frame of mind, and deeper humility, than this wretched young woman ever +before felt. On this account we shall record the particulars of the +interview in detail, as related by the lady herself. + +When Mrs. Cobbold entered the cell, Margaret rose and curtsied +respectfully, and the next moment the big tears rolled down her cheeks, +and her chest heaved with convulsive emotion, as if her heart would +break. The gaoler placed a chair for the lady, and retired to the end of +the passage. For a long time nothing could be heard but the occasional +sobs of the prisoner. At length she spoke:-- + +"Oh! my dear lady, how can you look upon me? You are good to come and +see me; but indeed I feel as if I was not worthy you should come. I +never dared to ask it of you. I had scarcely any hope of it. It is only +your goodness. I am a poor, ill-fated being, doomed to sorrow and +despair!" + +"Margaret, I came to see you from a sense of duty to God, and to you +too: I came to try and comfort you; but how can I give consolation to +you if you talk of your being ill-fated and _doomed_ to despair? Do not +say that the doom of fate has anything to do with your present +situation. You know as well as I do, that unless you had misconducted +yourself, you might have been as happy now as you were when I saw you +after your return from Bury. Put your sin upon yourself, and not upon +your fate. You know the real cause of this unhappiness." + +"Ah! dear lady, what would you have done if you had been me and in my +place?" + +"I might have done as you did; but I do think, Margaret, knowing what a +friend I had always been to you, that you might have placed confidence +in me, and have told me Laud was in prison. I observed that you were +much disturbed, and not yourself, when I last came to see you, but I +could not divine the cause." + +"I was afraid to tell you, madam, lest you should persuade me to give up +my acquaintance with him, and I had learned much more to his credit than +I knew before." + +"And so, by following your own inclination, you have brought your lover +and yourself to an untimely death. Oh, Margaret! had you confided in me, +I should have persuaded you to have tried him until you had obtained +your discharge from prison; then, had he been a respectable and altered +man, I should have approved of your marriage." + +"But think, dear lady, how constant he had been to me for so many years! +Surely his patience deserved my confidence." + +"And what good did you ever find it do you, Margaret? Look at the +consequences." + +"I could not foresee them. How could I then look at them?" + +"Though you were so blind as not to foresee the consequences, others, +with more reflection and forethought, might have done so for you; and, +assuredly, had you hinted the matter to me, I should have prevented +what has happened." + +"I wish indeed, now, that I had done so. I suffer most severely in my +mind, not from the fear of punishment, but because I have been the cause +of William Laud's death." + +"And he will have been the cause of your own, Margaret. Had he not +persuaded you to break out of prison, he would not have been killed. He +knew the penalty was death to you if you were caught, and he has met +that very end to which he has now made you liable. Had he loved you +lawfully and honourably, as he ought to have done, he would have waited +for your free and happy discharge." + +"But it seems to me," said Margaret, "so very strange, something so out +of justice, to condemn a person to die for that which does not appear to +her to be a crime. I cannot see the blood-guiltiness that I have thus +brought upon myself. In God's commandments I find it written, 'Thou +shalt not steal.' I stole the horse, and I could see that I deserved to +die, because I transgressed that commandment; but I do not find it said, +'Thou shalt not escape from prison.'" + +"Now Margaret, your own reasoning will condemn you. You acknowledged +that you deserved to die for stealing the horse. Now consider the +difference between the sentence you were actually prepared to submit to +and the one for which it was in mercy changed. Though justly condemned +to death, you are permitted to live and undergo a comparatively mild +punishment, yet you cannot see the duty of submitting to it. You should +have endured the lesser punishment without a murmur. You appeared to +receive the award of it with such thankfulness that it made all your +friends rejoice for you. But how deep is their present sorrow! What will +the judge say to you now when you are placed before him? Religion +teaches you submission to the constituted authorities of your country; +and you ought to think with humility, as you once did, that, like the +thief on the cross, you suffer justly for your crimes. To my mind, +Margaret, you have no excuse whatever. It may be all very well for +romantic ideas of fancy to make your lover the excuse; but you were not +at liberty to choose to roam over the sea with him until you could do so +with a free conscience." + +"It is not for me, dear lady, to say a word against your reasoning. I +did not look upon my crime in this light." + +"You must learn to look upon your crime as one which has done injury to +society. Which of your friends, who interceded for you with the judge, +and gave you so good a character, can now intercede for you again? I am +persuaded, Margaret, that the judge himself will think his former mercy +much displaced, and that you will meet with severity and reproach at his +hands." + +"Dear lady! who can give me comfort? Laud is dead, my father is dead, my +brother is at a distance and will probably be so ashamed of me that he +will never come to see me again. To whom, then, can I look for help? +You, my dear mistress, must be hurt at my conduct, and all my friends +likewise. I do not deserve their compassion, and yet I never wanted help +so much. Oh! who shall comfort me now?" + +"You shall have all the consolation I can give you; I will pray for you +continually; I will lend you such books to read as I think may assist +you; and were we not now about to remove from St. Margaret's Green to +the Cliff again, and in the midst of much bustle, I would come to see +you much oftener than I can now do. My family is increasing, and your +master says he must return again to the brewery and to business. But I +will come and see you many times, and when I cannot come I will write +such instructions as, if you pursue them diligently, may, with God's +blessing, promote your everlasting benefit. I am glad that you are +sensible of your sins. This will go some way towards your deriving +consolation from the Word of God. Attend to the precepts of the +chaplain, who is a good man, and understands your disposition as well +as I do; I shall often communicate with the Rev. Mr. Sharp concerning +you. You must indeed be very, very humble, before you can obtain that +sweet peace of mind which you once possessed. It will come to you again, +if you are sincerely penitent and resigned, but not without." + +"You are a dear friend, madam, to the poor destitute, and the only one +now left me upon the earth. Oh! how, dear lady, can I be worthy of such +kind consideration? Forgive me! oh, pray forgive me!" + +"Margaret, I wish the law could as freely forgive you as I do, but you +must not expect it. You must fortify your soul with religious +consolation alone. Everything else will fail. You must think of far +greater love than I can show to you, Margaret; love that has endured +inexpressible anguish for you; love that has laid down life for you; and +that will teach you how to die. You must think of your Saviour's +love--free, unsought, undeserved love. Oh, the depth of His riches! Who +can estimate them as he ought? You must look up to Him during every +moment of your short existence, and be never weary of praying to Him for +forgiveness. But I must now leave you, Margaret. It shall not be long +before I see you again. God bless you! Good-bye!" + +Margaret could not speak, but she knelt down and prayed inwardly. + +For the next three months Mrs. Cobbold became a frequent visitor at the +gaol, and found that Margaret made the best use of her time between the +period of her committal and her trial. How instructive are the minutes +of her progress, which that lady made, during that most engaging period! +and how blessedly employed was the enlightened mistress in communicating +light to her poor benighted servant! It was now that she made amends, in +her own heart, for that too common error among all who exercise power +and authority: the neglect of the spiritual welfare of their dependants. +She applied her powerful faculties to the strengthening and refreshing +of her servant's mind, by humbling herself with her before God. And well +was she repaid for this exertion. Abundant was the reward to herself in +obtaining that experience in the ways of godliness which strengthened +her own faith and increased her charity. + +Margaret's mind underwent a complete change. She might be truly said to +be a resigned and patient Christian; one who, from that day to her +latest moments, never lost the influence of those purest principles and +most blessed hopes which were then instilled and rooted in her soul. + +On the 1st of August, the day previously to her departure for Bury, +Margaret received the following letter from her excellent mistress:-- + + "CLIFF, IPSWICH, August 1st, 1800 + + "MARGARET, + + "I cannot come and see you, as I had intended this day to have + done, having been so unfortunate as to sprain my ankle in getting + out of my carriage on to the stone step at the Cliff. But I am so + full of thought about you, that my painful foot shall not prevent + my willing hand writing to you a few words before you depart. It + may be good for you and me that this accident has occurred, however + much it may seem our present privation. It may teach us that we + never can command events, or tell what a day may bring forth. It + may so happen that this letter may do you more good than my visit; + if so, I shall not regret the pain I suffer, since I shall have the + consolation of its seeming evil being productive of some good. Oh, + how I wish that we could look upon all events in the same manner, + and be persuaded that all things 'work together for good to them + that love God!' Let us (i. e. you and I) be thus persuaded. It will + prevent us experiencing any present mortification in the + impossibility of our seeing each other at this time. + + "I would first speak to you about your conduct at the trial, and my + pen does that which my tongue would do. Do not attempt in any way + to defend your conduct. Being fully convinced, by God's grace, of + the criminality of your act and deed, let no legal sophistry + whatever induce you to plead _not guilty_. In a court of justice, + you should stand before man in the same way as you would before + your Maker, without any covert deceit, any desire to make a bad + cause appear a good one. + + "Satan is sometimes transformed into an angel of light. He is so + eloquent, so engaging, so bold, so devoted, so earnest, so + intelligent, so interesting, so persuasive, that a lie comes from + him with such apparent grace, that the sons of God are almost + deceived by his transformations. But let not any one persuade you + to take advantage of his services. Truth, Margaret, needs no + fiction to defend it; for 'whatsoever loveth and maketh a lie shall + never enter into the city of truth.' So do not suffer any one who + calls himself your friend to persuade you to trust to fallacies. + You know yourself guilty. Conduct yourself as a person conscious of + your guilt before God and man. I shall not deceive you. The penalty + of your crime is death; and you do not forget the argument that I + used upon a former occasion, 'that if a man owns himself justly + condemned to suffer death, and has mercy shown to him by giving him + a lesser punishment, his duty is to suffer that lesser punishment + with the same resignation as he would death. And if he fail in this + duty, he justly deserves the former punishment.' So do you justly + deserve sentence of death for your present or late sin. And you + will be condemned to die! + + "Be prepared for much severity at the hands of our offended judge. + I say, be prepared; for unless he should know as much of you as I + do, he will think you one of the worst persons alive, and therefore + only fit to be made a public example of by a violent death. I know + you, however, Margaret; and though I believe that if you were now + restored to liberty you would be a Christian servant, and never + more be a guilty slave of sin, yet your judge cannot know this. + Indeed, scarcely any of the magistrates know this. It is, + therefore, best to be prepared for a severe trial. Do not attempt + to call any one to speak to your character. It will be of no use. + The representations made by the magistrates at the last assizes + will be sufficient testimony up to that time; and since then, you + cannot say that you deserve any defence. You must not expect any + mercy, but prepare yourself not only to receive sentence of death, + but _prepare yourself to die_. + + "If a prisoner who knows himself to be guilty does not prepare + himself to die before the sentence of death is passed upon him, his + is a very dangerous state, since the period is so short between + condemnation and execution that he must be very much distracted." + + "You have read through 'The Christian's Consolations against the + Fears of Death,' and you tell me that your mind has been greatly + strengthened by the piety expressed in this good old book. I agree + with you that it touches upon every source of consolation which a + Christian man can contemplate. It meets almost every case. But it + does not exactly contemplate a female convict, like yourself; and + on this account I would add a very few words of advice to you upon + this subject. + + "To die a Christian, and as a Christian ought to die, is to have no + desire whatever but for the kingdom of God. You suffer justly for + your crimes; and you must not let any one deceive you into any + false idea of your own worthiness to live. The penitent malefactor + on the tree rebuked the boldness of his brother, who railed upon + the Saviour of the world, and used these words of reproof, 'Dost + not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we + indeed suffer justly; but this man hath done nothing amiss.' Then + he prefers that humble prayer, which should ever be yours, + Margaret, up to your latest moment, 'Lord, remember me when thou + comest into Thy kingdom!' How infinite in mercy is the Lord! How + loving! How pitiful! How generous to the poor wretch at the moment + of his late repentance! We cannot tell, Margaret, how late that + repentance was. He might have been convinced of his guilt long + before he was lifted up to die. In prison he might have heard, as + you have done, of the great, the good, the only Christ. So that men + do wrong to take even this example for the success of a death-bed + repentance at the last hour. We cannot tell when our last hour may + be. Our first should be one of repentance as well as our last. And + the whole desire of our lives should be, to be remembered in the + kingdom of Christ. The blessed words of our Saviour must have taken + away the sting of death from the faithful heart of the penitent: + 'This day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise.' + + "I conceive that we are justified in taking these words to our own + selves in our own contemplation of death, and in considering them + as the most blessed words that can be used to destroy the power + which the King of Terrors often raises in the minds of weak and + sinful mortals. If you are truly penitent, justly sensible of all + your sins, and are fully convinced of the meritorious sacrifice + which God has once made for your sins and those of the whole world, + I see no reason why your faith should not be so fully fixed on + these blessed words as to let them be the hope of your heart. It is + almost impossible for the true penitent to beg to be remembered in + the kingdom of Christ without experiencing comfort from the + Saviour's words, 'This day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise.' + + "Death frees us from the dominion of sin; that is, if we die in + Christ. We are then with Him in Paradise, in that state of + innocency in which Adam was before he was driven out of the Garden + of Eden. Our spirits know no fear, since we are in love; and + 'perfect love casts out fear, because fear hath torment.' + + "Your judge, Margaret, will probably tell you to make good use of + the short time you have to live. I not only tell you this, that you + may be fortified against your sentence of death, but that you may + prepare yourself for entering upon another and a better life. I am + glad to find, by my friend the chaplain, that you have diligently + applied your whole strength to the Word of God, and have found how + weak, how wicked, how lost you have been all the days of your life. + I hope to be able to come and see you, with him, after your return + from Bury, and to partake with you of spiritual refreshment. Till + then, my poor servant, I can only pray that you may be rich in + grace, strong in faith, humble in heart, devout in prayer, lowly + and contrite in spirit, watchful against all temptation, in love, + in peace, in charity with all, praying for all: for your judge, + jury, and fellow-prisoners. + + "Oh that your end may be as you wish it, a warning to all your sex, + and especially to those in your situation of life, never to let + passion get the upper hand of virtuous principle! That God may + fortify you with His spirit, cheer you with His Word, and comfort + you in death, is the earnest prayer of your former mistress + + "And present friend, + "ELIZABETH COBBOLD. + + "To MARGARET CATCHPOLE." + + +Margaret fed upon the contents of this letter, and followed the advice +given her; and with what effect will be best seen by the account +preserved of her second trial. She went to Bury on the 2nd of August, +and on the 3rd was conducted to the same court, and appeared before the +same judge, as she had done upon her first trial three years before. + +The Lord Chief Baron Sir Archibald Macdonald was this time accompanied +by Sir Beaumont Hotham. The juries for the county and liberty were the +following honourable gentlemen:-- + + FOR THE COUNTY + + Lord Viscount Broome. + + Charles Berners, jun., Esq. + + B. G. Dillingham, Esq. + + P. J. Thelluson, Esq. + + George Wilson, Esq. + + Matthias Kerrison, Esq. + + Wolfran Lewis, Esq. + + Mileson Edgar, Esq. + + John Cobbold, Esq. + + Edward Studd, Esq. + + Anthony Collet, Esq. + + Joseph Burch Smith, Esq. + + John Farr, Esq. + + John Dresser, Esq. + + William Philpot, Esq. + + James Reeve, Esq. + + Edmund Barber, Esq. + + James Stuttur, Esq. + + + FOR THE LIBERTY + + + Sir T. C. Bunbury, Bart. + + Sir T. C. Cullum, Bart. + + Sir Harry Parker, Bart. + + Barnard E. Howard, Esq. + + N. Barnadiston, Esq. + + Nathaniel Lee Acton, Esq. + + Capel Lofft, Esq. + + John Mosley, Esq. + + Joshua Grigby, Esq. + + William Mannock, Esq. + + John Wastell, Esq. + + Robert Walpole, Esq. + + Richard Cartwright, Esq. + + Thomas Cocksedge, Esq. + + Thomas Mills, Esq. + + James Oakes, Esq. + + Thomas Gery Cullum, + Esq. + + Abraham Reeve, Esq. + + George Archer, Esq. + + William B. Rush, Esq., Sheriff. + +The usual forms of the court having been gone through, Margaret +Catchpole was again placed at the bar. Margaret was dressed, as +formerly, in a plain blue calico dress. She appeared pale and thin, but +perfectly free from any of that emotion which she formerly exhibited. +There was a calmness of deportment without the least obduracy, and no +obtrusive boldness nor recklessness. She did not look round the court +with any of that anxiety she formerly exhibited, as if she wished to see +any one there who knew her. She knew that Will Laud was gone, and that +neither her father nor her brother was there. She was quite indifferent +to the public gaze, and with her eyes cast down upon the bar, she saw +not that piercing glance which the judge gave her as she took her +station before him, though every person in court noticed it, and looked +at the prisoner to see if she did not quail before it. + +The indictment having been read aloud, once more the clerk of the court +addressed her in these terms: + +"How say you, prisoner at the bar, are you guilty or not guilty?" + +Margaret lifted up her dark eyes once more, and looking her judge calmly +in the face, said-- + +"Guilty, my lord." + +There was a perfect stillness in that crowded court, while the judge now +addressed her in the following terms:-- + +"I cannot address you, prisoner at the bar, in the same strain I +formerly did, since I am persuaded that you are hardened in your +iniquity. I pitied you at that time for your youth; but though young in +years, you are old in crime. I considered you then a person who, if you +had the chance, would form, for the remainder of your days, an estimable +character. In this, however, I have been greatly deceived, and I now +look upon you as a person whom I believe to be dangerous to the morals +of others, and therefore unfit to live. You have shown your sense of the +past mercy extended to you by your bold and daring conduct in breaking +out of prison. I had fully intended to have obtained your discharge from +the Ipswich gaol at these very assizes, had I heard the good report I +received last year confirmed. You may judge, then, of my surprise and +indignation when I heard of your escape from the gaol. + +"So bold a woman would make a very bad companion for any man. She who, +after receiving pardon for her past crimes, in the merciful permission +to live when condemned to death, will again be guilty of setting a bad +example to all, instead of a good and reformed one: she who will set at +defiance the laws of her country, and be so bold as to break out of +prison before the period of her confinement had expired, shows such a +disregard to all past and present mercies that she is not worthy to +live. + +"You have, I understand, been the occasion of sudden death to one man, +and might have involved others in your guilt. The turnkey of the gaol +might have been severely punished for your delinquency. Your gaoler, +whose duty it is to attend the prisoners to Bury, and of whose absence +you took such a shameful advantage, might have suffered a heavy fine. +You had very nearly eluded his activity, and I consider that great +credit is due to him for the manner in which he recovered you and has +brought you to justice. The magistrates of this county have very +properly applauded his zeal; and I consider it a fortunate thing for +society, that you are not this moment at large in any part of his +Majesty's dominions. + +"I will not waste words upon a person so ungrateful as you are. What can +you possibly have to say why sentence should not be passed upon you? You +may say anything you have to say. It cannot be anything good, or in the +least mitigate the severest penalty of the law. Have you anything to +say, prisoner at the bar?" + +There was such a still silence in the court at this moment that the +scratch of a pen might have been heard. The barristers all looked up at +the prisoner. Every eye was fixed intently upon her pale face, as she +looked up and made such a composed reply to the Lord Chief Baron's +speech, that one of the most eminent barristers of that day, afterwards +as eminent as a judge, declared it to be the most able and impressive he +had ever, under such circumstances, heard. She spoke with perfect ease, +and apparently without the slightest tremor, and was heard all over the +court. + +"My lord, I fully expected that your lordship would condemn me severely +for my present offence. I expected severity; but I did not think that I +should receive the language of judgement without mercy from one whose +former kindness touched my heart. As to my being a hardened offender, I +humbly hope that in this respect your lordship is mistaken. I have +committed two offences against the laws of my country. The first I +acknowledged, not without a sense of its guilt; the second, when I +committed it, I was quite unconscious of the light in which the law +viewed it, and I thought it no crime at all. Had not the arguments of +one wise as your lordship, and a far dearer friend to the prisoner, +convinced me of its enormity, I had this day stood before the court and +felt myself condemned as an innocent person. Thank God, such is not the +case! and your lordship's accusation of my being a hardened offender is +without foundation. + +"At this moment of condemnation you refer to your intention of obtaining +my discharge at these assizes. At such a time as this, the expression of +such an intention might have produced extreme bitterness in my heart, +did I not know, that before the last assizes, your lordship received a +memorial, signed by all the magistrates who visited the Ipswich gaol, +praying for my discharge on account of exemplary conduct up to that +time. Had you, then, my lord, attended to that prayer, the offence for +which I am now to suffer the severity of the law would never have been +committed, the life of the man whom it was my fault to love would have +been spared, and I should not have had the anguish of being compelled to +speak as I now do, nor this court the pain of hearing me. The bitterness +then which your reference to my intended discharge would have given me +must remain with your lordship, not with me. You may be well assured, my +lord, that I am not hardened, but penitent. In the twinkling of an eye I +shall meet your lordship at the tribunal of perfect justice, where we +shall both be prisoners at that bar where we shall require, and, I hope, +shall find mercy. + +"You could not imagine what I should say, and what I do say is not meant +as a defence of my improper act, but only in justice to those who may +wish me 'God speed' in this court, and who might think from your +lordship's language that I was insensible to their or your lordship's +past kindness. The day will come, and not long after my departure +hence, when your lordship will be convinced that your opinion, now +expressed, was not such as the circumstances of my case warranted or +called for. Your lordship will then clearly see, that through ignorance, +and prompted somewhat beyond the bounds of reason by the force of +gratitude to one whom I too dearly loved, I was induced to attempt to +gain that liberty which I then felt could only be pleasant in his +company. + +"Your lordship will, I hope, send me soon to the enjoyment of a liberty +with which no laws of man can interfere. I call no persons to speak to +my character since the period when your lordship received the testimony +of the gaoler, chaplain, and magistrates of the Ipswich division. I +humbly beg pardon of you, my lord, and of all this court, if I have said +anything which may seem disrespectful to you or any persons present; and +I now await your lordship's sentence." + +After Margaret had finished speaking, all eyes were turned towards the +judge. The barristers who were present whispered together, and his +lordship caught the sounds of words like these: "Admirable answer!" +"Sensible speech!" "Able reply!" which made the colour come into his +face, and it required some degree of judicial self-possession to +disperse it. He soon resumed, however, his wonted dignity and calmness, +and proceeded to pass sentence upon the prisoner, prefacing the awful +terms with these words:-- + +"Prisoner at the bar, I am glad to say that my opinion may be altered +with regard to your hardened state; I may lament, also, that the prayer +of that petition made in your behalf was not sooner complied with, as +you expected it would have been. This will not, however, excuse your +crime. It might be sufficient to establish the propriety of your conduct +up to that time, but your subsequent act completely cancelled that +character. You have artfully attempted to throw the blame, which rests +entirely with yourself, upon me as your judge." Here Margaret looked at +him with piercing scrutiny, but uttered not a word. "He will not blame +himself again under similar circumstances, having had such occasion to +blame himself for too great leniency upon your former trial. You are +sufficiently sensible to be aware of the short time you have to live, +and of the necessity of making good use of it. I shall add no more than +the judgement of this court, which is----" + +Here the judge passed the sentence in the same awful words as he had +formerly done. + +There were many in that court who felt for the prisoner more than the +finest eloquence could express. She received the sentence without any of +those deep feelings which she had formerly exhibited; she looked as +mildly and quietly at the judge as if she had only been receiving his +advice; she curtsied respectfully to him and the court; and then she +firmly receded from the dock, and returned to the care of the gaoler. + +It was observed by several persons of the court, that the Lord Chief +Baron did not rally his wonted cheerfulness during the succeeding +business of the day. Whatever may be said of the habit of sternness and +indifference to the real promptings of nature, which men who administer +the laws of their country usually entertain (and a judge is seldom +guilty of any exhibition of human weakness in the act of condemning a +fellow-creature to death), yet Chief Baron Macdonald most certainly did +feel a strange sensation of nervous sensibility with regard to the +unfortunate woman he had that day condemned. He was more abstracted and +thoughtful upon her case than upon any other which came before him. He +could not dismiss it from his mind with his wonted consciousness of +composure. He continually reverted to her extraordinary character +whenever a pause in the business of the court afforded him an +opportunity to speak to the high sheriff, and he was heard to say-- + +"I should like to examine the spot whence this wonderful woman effected +her escape. The more I think of what I have been told of her, and of +what I have heard from her own lips, the more curious I am to inspect +the gaol. If I have an opportunity before I return to town, I most +assuredly will do so. I wish I could see that woman, and be myself +incog. I could then judge of some things which appear to me inexplicable +in such a person. Whence does she gain such powers of speech, such +simplicity of manners, and yet so truly applicable to her situation? +There must be mind and instruction too!" + +The high sheriff, who was a man of the most humane disposition, here +ventured to tell the judge that many of the magistrates thought that her +life would have been spared on account of their former recommendation. +This was quite in private conversation, and only came to light after the +business of the assizes was over. Let whatever influence may have been +exercised with his lordship in behalf of the prisoner, or let it have +been simply his own conviction that mercy would not again be unworthily +extended, before he left Bury her sentence was once more changed from +death to transportation. But this time it was for life, instead of for +seven years or for any fixed period. + +Margaret received the announcement of this change without any expression +of joy for herself or thankfulness to her judge. She regretted that she +should have to linger out so many years of her existence in a foreign +land, and when told of it as an act of mercy, she replied "that it was +no mercy to her." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +TRANSPORTATION + + +Margaret returned to Ipswich in a very despondent state of mind; more +so, to all appearance, than if her sentence had not been changed from +death to transportation. Her feelings on this point are strikingly +evinced in the following letter, which she wrote to her mistress soon +after her return to gaol:-- + + "IPSWICH GAOL, August 9th, 1800. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "I am returned from Bury, and I regret to say that I am not to die + yet. That day is put off--perhaps that I may be swallowed up by the + sea, or be eaten by the savages of Botany Bay. I am to look forward + to years of degraded slavery, and to be sent away from my country + and my friends. I am so sorrowful, my dear lady, that I require + more of your good advice to learn to live than to learn to die. I + feel, indeed, as if my judge did it to torment me, and if I had the + opportunity, I should certainly tell him so. You told me he would + be severe; he was bitterly so, but it made me feel much less + grateful to him than I did the first time. Then I thought him like + you, dear lady, but I see no traces of that resemblance now. His + words were tormenting, his manners towards me tormenting, and his + change of sentence is tormenting. I would really have rather been + left to die, though by the hand of the public executioner, than be + as I am, soon to be sent out of the country to meet a more + miserable death. If I never see you more, I shall never forget you. + I told the judge that but for your friendship I should not have + been sensible of my sin. He called me a hardened sinner, and said I + was not fit to live. I wonder, then, that he did not suffer me to + die. Dear lady, I feel so very low, that if you do not come and + see me I shall be miserable indeed. Do--oh! pray do, if you can! I + hope you are suffering less from the effects of your sprain, and + that I shall see you. Forgive your poor servant's boldness and + seeming selfishness. I pray earnestly for you and your dear family. + Oh that I could see the dear Cliff again! So happy was I when I + first lived there, and so should I be now, could I ever hope to see + you there again. To be your servant would be something worth living + for; but to be a slave in a foreign land! Oh! my dear lady! death + would be preferable to + + "Your poor servant, + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "To MRS. COBBOLD, Cliff, Ipswich." + +Her letter was dated on Saturday, the 9th August. It may be seen in the +_Ipswich Journal_ of the 16th of August, A. D. 1800, that the Lord Chief +Baron paid a visit to the Ipswich gaol on Tuesday, 12th of August. + +He arrived on the morning of that day in his carriage, and was not +personally known to the turnkey. He told the man that he came purposely +to inspect the gaol, and wished particularly to see the spot where +Margaret Catchpole effected her escape. + +"Did you fill the office of turnkey at the time?" inquired the visitor. + +"I did, sir," replied the man. + +"Then you had a very narrow escape; for, had I been the judge to have +tried you, I should have been much inclined to have thought you guilty +of connivance in this matter." + +"Then I am very glad, sir, that you are not a judge." + +The Lord Chief Baron did not tell him at the moment who he was. + +The turnkey was quite ready to show him the way in which the escape had +been made. He set up the frame exactly as he found it on the day of +Margaret's adventure, and showed him the very crotch with which she had +fixed the line on the _chevaux de frise_. The broken spike on the +roller was pointed out, and he informed the judge of the trousers and +smock-frock which the prisoner had manufactured out of the sheets of her +bed. After having examined minutely the place and the frame, and having +heard the full report of the turnkey, he again said-- + +"What an artful woman she must be to do this, and to be able to deceive +you in the sound of her voice from the adjoining cell!" + +"Aye, sir; and had she not confessed this, I should have been puzzled, +up to this hour, to account for her getting out of her cell, as I swore +that I heard her answer from within, before I locked the door." + +"She must be a clever person." + +"Yes, sir, I believe she is. She owes a very great deal to a lady in +this town, who has taken great pains with her." + +"So I have heard," said the stranger. "I would give something to see +that lady. I understand she is the wife of the gentleman from whom she +stole the horse." + +"I wish the lady might call while you are here, sir. It is not unlikely +that she may. Pray, sir, were you in court at the time of her trial?" + +"Yes, I was." + +"Then, perhaps, sir, you could tell us if it be true that she answered +the judge who addressed her in such a manner as to confuse him. Our +folks say that he was completely set, and felt so much surprised as to +be put out by her speech. I do not, of course, know if it be so, but I +heard two of our visiting magistrates talking about it the other day, +and they seemed to say as much as if it was so." + +"It did not strike me to be exactly so. The judge was certainly +surprised at what she said, but I do not think he was angry with the +prisoner. Is the woman in her cell at this time?" + +"Yes, she is, sir." + +"Will you tell Mr. Ripshaw that I should like to examine all the cells +of the prison?" + +"Mr. Ripshaw is gone with two prisoners to Portsmouth, sir; but Mrs. +Ripshaw is within, and I can show you the cells." + +The Lord Chief Baron followed the turnkey to the door of the governor's +house, which was in the centre of the gaol. At this moment the chaplain, +the Rev. Mr. Sharp, came to pay his visit to the prisoners. The +gentlemen were shown into the parlour, where Mrs. Ripshaw sat, busily +engaged at some of the gaol accounts. + +The Lord Chief Baron presented his card to the chaplain, who immediately +explained to Mrs. Ripshaw who it was. + +"I am come purposely to inspect the gaol, Mrs. Ripshaw, and I wish to be +quite incog. at present. I have already examined the spot where that +extraordinary woman, Margaret Catchpole, effected her escape; and if +you, sir," addressing himself to the chaplain, "are going to visit her, +and have no objection to my accompanying you, I should like to be +brought in as your friend. You need not address me, but I will join you +in your duties. I wish to see this singular woman, if possible, without +her recognizing me." + +"She is, indeed, my lord," replied the chaplain, "a most extraordinary +person. I have found her, up to this second trial, not only tractable, +but intelligent and attentive in the highest degree; but since her +return from Bury, she is disappointed and dissatisfied." + +"With what?" + +"With her reprieve for transportation." + +"With her reprieve! Does the woman really prefer death to life?" + +"Your lordship will be the best judge of that by the tenor of our +conversation, if she should not recognize your lordship. And should she +do so, she would not scruple to tell you plainly her opinion." + +"I do not think that she can possibly recognize me, if I do not speak to +her, and I shall keep strict silence, if I can." + +What a strange alteration do robes and wigs make in the appearance of +men of the law! Who could recognize the Lord Chief Baron of our courts +of law without the robes of his office? Counsel are not recognized even +by their clients when they first see them in their rooms without their +wigs and gowns. No wonder, then, that Margaret Catchpole should take her +judge for some brother clergyman or friend of the chaplain's, when he +entered the cell, and seated himself upon a chair, which the turnkey +placed there for him. + +"Well, Margaret," said the chaplain, "I hope you are a little more +reconciled to your prospects than you were when I saw you last." + +"I wish I could say I am, sir; but my prospects look very gloomy, and I +feel a great deal more anguish than if I were going to be executed." + +"You ought not to do so, Margaret; I consider it a great mercy that your +life is spared." + +"Spared! For what, sir? To drag on a wretched life as a felon, and to +live and die, no one knows how or cares, and then to lie in a felon's +grave in a distant land! Here my body would at least have soon rested +beside my friends and relatives. My sufferings would have been short, +and I think I should have been happy. Oh, sir! pray forgive my poor +broken heart; it will give utterance to the language of lamentation. Oh! +that cruel judge! He might have let me die, especially as the bitterness +of death had already passed over me. But he was angry and displeased at +me for speaking, though he asked me if I had anything to say! So he +resolved that I should suffer the most excruciating torture by killing +me by inches in a foreign land! Is this mercy, Mr. Sharp?" + +"You look upon this in an unchristian and too gloomy a light. You here +attribute motives to your judge of a very improper kind; such as I am +fully persuaded never entered his mind, and never were inmates of his +breast. I am persuaded his thoughts toward you were those of pity as +well as mercy, and that your change of sentence was meant for your good +and that of others. You have no right to judge of his motives in so +unchristian a light." + +"My dear sir, again I say, pardon my speech. I speak as I feel. Perhaps, +with your help, I may feel differently, but I should then speak +differently. Could you, or this gentleman, feel as I do, and were either +of you placed in my situation, you would think and argue very +differently to what you now do. You sit there, both of you, at liberty +to move from this place to the happy associations of kindred, friends, +and home. I grant you, a return to their society sweetens life, and +teaches you to bear your earthly visitations, whatever they may be, +patiently. But let me ask you how you would, either of you, like now to +be afflicted with a long, lingering, painful, bodily disease, which +permitted you only a few moments' rest, and those troubled and broken, +and disturbed by horrid dreams; that, when you awoke each day, it was +only to a sense of increased pain? How would you like years of such +increased agony? Tell me, would you not prefer a happier, shorter, and +speedier termination of your sufferings than that long distant one which +must come at last after years of weariness and pain? Yet you find fault +with me because I would rather die now than live many years in all the +horrors of slavery, and then die without a friend near me!" + +"Still I think you wrong, Margaret. You seem to argue as if we had a +choice of our own in these matters, and forget that it must be God's +will, and not our own, to which we must submit." + +"Is it God's will, or is it man's will, that I should lead a life of +misery?" + +"This question almost makes me think you impious, Margaret. It is God's +will that you should live, and I hope for some good: at all events, it +is for some wise purpose of His own, either that you may become an +instrument of His righteousness or mercy in His hands, or that you may +be an example to others. As to the misery you talk of, that will depend +much upon your own future individual conduct and character. I have +heard that some receive pardon in that country for their good conduct, +and they settle in the land; and instead of being slaves, they become +useful members of society." + +"That may perhaps be the case with some, sir; but I am looking at my own +present state, and I cannot believe that my judge had any such mercy in +his view when he changed my sentence from present momentary suffering to +such future wretchedness." + +"Of that you can know nothing, neither ought you to take your present +state as any other than that of God's decree by His agent, the judge. +How can you ascertain the motives of any man's heart? I do firmly +believe that your judge decided most mercifully and righteously in your +case. He might really think that if you were removed from this country, +you might be instrumental in doing much good. He might hope that, under +different circumstances of life, from the very natural force of your +character taking another bias, you might become a blessing to yourself +and others." + +"And so, because I yielded to temptation when I had so many good friends +around me, he would throw me into the very midst of temptation, where I +have not one friend to help me. Oh! Mr. Sharp, would it not be far +better to choose present release, when such kind friends are near me, +than future death, when no comforter or friend can be near?" + +"And is not your God near you, Margaret, in every place, unless you +drive Him away by your wickedness? But how can you tell that He may not +raise up some benevolent friend to help you in that country to which you +are going? I hope for the best. At all events, you must cherish better +feelings towards your judge than those you now possess, or your state +will be dreadful indeed wherever you may be. You seem to have forgotten +all the Christian lessons which your dear mistress and I have taken such +pains to teach you." + +"I would not be ungrateful, sir, though I may now appear, as I am, so +unhappy. I will try by prayer to conquer the prejudice you speak of. I +do suffer such extreme horror in my mind from my view of the future, +that there is no rest for me by night or day. I see nothing but chains +and darkness. I think sometimes of the long, long journey from my native +land, of the dangers of the sea, of the companions with whom I may be +mixed. I start sometimes in my dreams, and fancy a great shark dashing +at me in the waters. Another time I see the native cannibals ready to +devour me. Then I think of home, of you, sir, of dear Dr. Stebbing, of +my uncle and aunt, and of my dearest mistress, and I find my +prison-pillow is wet with my nightly tears." + +The tears started in more eyes than her own, as she spoke, in her +touching simplicity, of these acute feelings. She suffered intensely; +and it took many months of rational and devout conversation, on the part +of both her mistress and this worthy man, to eradicate those bitter +seeds of despair, and to sow those of cheerfulness and hope. After +directing Margaret's mind to Christian duties, the chaplain and the +judge left her cell. They conversed some time upon her state of mind and +future prospects. The judge declared that he thought her one of the most +sensitive persons he had ever seen, with a mind capable of the highest +cultivation. He left five guineas with the chaplain to be laid out for +her benefit. He stated that she would not, in all probability, leave +England till the next summer, and hoped to hear a better account of her +some future day. Margaret was not informed of the person who had visited +her that day with the chaplain, until she had learned to look upon him +and herself in a very different light. + +The Lord Chief Baron visited all the cells of the prison, and expressed +his approbation of the cleanliness and neatness of the whole place. As +he was going away, he told the turnkey that he was the very judge who +had tried the female prisoner for breaking out of gaol. The reader may +imagine how frightened the poor fellow was at his late boldness of +speech. The judge observed his embarrassment, and told him that he had +spoken nothing improper; that he had done his duty, and deserved his +thanks. + +"You may tell your master," he added, "that I am so well satisfied with +the appearance of all things under his care, that when I return to town +I shall not fail to give a favourable report of the state of the gaol +and of his discipline." He made the turnkey a present, and left the +gaol. + +It was not until May, 1801, that Margaret Catchpole was informed of the +day of her departure for Botany Bay. She had been instructed in many +things relating to the country to which she was going, and her kind +mistress had purchased an assortment of useful articles for her future +employment. Her mind had been gradually divested of its miserable +horrors, and became fortified for the occasion. It will be seen, +however, that as the near approach of the day came, she dreaded and +lamented it bitterly. On the 25th of May, 1801, Mrs. Cobbold received +the following note from her:-- + + + "IPSWICH GAOL, May 25th, 1801. + + "DEAR AND HONOURED MADAM, + + "I am sorry to have to inform you of the bad news. I am going away + on Wednesday next, or Thursday at the latest, so I have taken the + liberty of troubling you with these few lines. It will be the last + time I shall ever trouble you from this place of sorrowful, yet, + comparatively with the future, blessed captivity. My grief is very + great, now that I am really on the eve of banishment from my own + country and from all my dearest friends for ever. It was hard for + me ever to think of it. Oh! what must it be to endure it! Honoured + madam, it would give me some happiness to see you once more, on the + Tuesday previous to my leaving England for ever, if you will not + think this request of mine too troublesome. I know your kind heart. + I would spare you any anxiety about so unworthy a person as + myself, but I must entreat your goodness to consider me in this my + severest misery. Have pity upon me! Oh! do come! Only let me see + your dear face once more, and it will ever be a comfort and + satisfaction to your poor unhappy servant, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "To MRS. COBBOLD, Cliff, Ipswich." + + +On Tuesday, the 26th of May, this benevolent lady paid poor Margaret her +last visit. She felt that it would be the last time she should ever see +her in this world. It was a painful interview, and one that she would +have spared herself, had it not been for the hope of comforting the mind +of her disconsolate servant. She found her seated upon the chest which +she had sent her from the Cliff a few days before. Her eyes were swollen +with weeping; and, as she rose to meet her beloved mistress, she +trembled and tottered from the weakness of agitation. Her mistress +gently seated her again, and took her seat beside her. + +"Oh! my dear lady!" she began, "my time is come, and I feel just as if +my heart would burst. Surely this must be worse than death!" + +"Do not say so, Margaret. Remember all the advice I have given you, and +I have no doubt that you will find yourself rewarded with different +treatment to that which you expect." + +"But I shall never see you nor any of my dear friends again. This is my +sorrow." + +"But we shall hear from you often, Margaret." + +"And shall I hear from you, dear lady? Will you remember me? Will you +not forget your poor servant? Oh! she will never forget you, never cease +to bless you!" + +"I will write to you, Margaret, as soon as I hear of your arrival." + +"Bless you, dear lady! God bless you! But when I look at you, and think +of your dear face, it is like the sun for ever hidden from my sight +when you leave me." + +"The same sun, Margaret, will shine upon us both. He will visit you +while I am asleep, and me when you are at rest. The same God who causes +him to shine upon us all will be, as he is, alike merciful to us both, +though we live in different lands. Let me entreat you, as my last solemn +injunction, never to forget your duty to Him. Read your Bible whenever +you can. You will have much time and opportunity upon your voyage, and I +hope you will employ them to the best purposes. You will find in your +chest many good books. They will be a great source of comfort to you." + +"Oh! that I will, dear lady! and when I think of you who gave them to +me, and of the dear friends who have visited me, and of that good lady +you introduced to my cell, Mrs. Sleorgin, who brought me yesterday this +packet of books. Oh! how dearly shall I desire to see you and them!" + +"Think, too, Margaret, what pleasure it will give us all to hear that +you are doing well, that all the instructions of your kind friends have +not failed. You will be able to add greatly to my comfort by this. You +will also add to my knowledge many things of which I have at present +very imperfect information. You will inform me of the state of that new +country. Surely this will give you some pleasure, and profit me also." + +"Dear lady! you are so good! You make me almost wish to live, if only +for the pleasure of serving you. If it were but permitted me to come to +England once more, I do think my journey would seem nothing to me. It +looks such a dreary prospect to be deprived of all whom we love, that I +feel faint at the idea of loneliness in a foreign land." + +"Exercise your faith, Margaret, and you will never be alone. All lands +will be pleasant to you." + +"None so pleasant as my own: but I will try, I do try, I will hope. You +are so kind to me, my dear mistress! Give my duty to my good master; my +love to all the dear, dear children. Oh! forgive me, my dear lady! I +cannot help crying; tears do me good." + +Those friends (for so, in spite of the difference in their station and +their character, we must venture to call them) parted from each other +for the last time on earth; but they lived to correspond, by letter, for +many years after, and both felt an increased interest for each other's +happiness. + +The hour of Margaret's departure arrived. The worthy chaplain was the +last person whom Margaret saw in the cell of her prison. Her uncle and +aunt Leader saw her the day before. The worthy chaplain presented her +with the remainder of the judge's present. She had long learned to look +upon his sentence in a different light to that in which she had once +viewed it; and now, with feelings greatly subdued, she knelt with the +good chaplain, and prayed earnestly that she might never forget the +lessons he had given her. She prayed fervently for pardon for all her +sins, and that she might for ever leave them behind her, and thenceforth +lead a new and better life. Then, turning to Mr. Sharp, she said-- + +"One favour more, sir: your blessing." + +"May God bless you, Margaret," said the good chaplain, "and make you, +for the remainder of your days, an instrument of good, to His own glory +and the benefit of your fellow-creatures! Amen. Farewell." + +On Wednesday, May 27, Mr. Ripshaw left Ipswich with three female +prisoners in his charge, Margaret Catchpole, Elizabeth Killet, and +Elizabeth Barker. He took them to Portsmouth, and saw them safe on board +the convict-ship, bound for Botany Bay. + +Margaret had not left the New Gaol, two hours before the turnkey was +summoned to the lodge, and opened the door to a tall, thin man, dressed +in the poorest garb, who with a voice soft and gentle, meek and +melancholy, requested to see Margaret Catchpole. + +"She is just departed with the governor for Portsmouth. Who are you?" + +"I am her brother. My misfortunes are indeed heavy: I am just returned +from India. I find my father gone, my brothers gone, and this my only +sister, worse than all! Oh, bitter cup! gone in disgrace from the +country!" + +"Pray walk this way. I will introduce you to our chaplain, and some +consolation may be found for you." + +The melancholy truth was soon explained. Charles Catchpole, alias Jacob +Dedham, alias Collins Jaun, the spy, whom the reader may recognize as +mentioned in a former part of this history, returned to his native +country literally a beggar. He went out to India, and, upon his arrival +in that country, his friend, Lord Cornwallis, had resigned his high +office, and returned to England. The account he gave of himself was +singularly eventful. He assumed the appearance of a native chief, joined +some of the roving tribes of warlike adventurers, and became a +conspicuous character. He fell in love with a nabob's daughter, and +married her according to the national customs and ceremonies; but his +ill-assorted match did not long prosper. His origin and connexion with +the English were discovered, and the spy had to fly the country for his +life. He escaped, gained his passage home, and had spent his last +shilling in the very public-house at St. Mary Elms where he received his +first as an enlisted recruit. His case was that day mentioned to several +individuals, amongst others to Edward Bacon, Esq., who had spent many +years in India, who pronounced him no impostor. He employed him many +days in taking a view of Ipswich and its environs, which he did with +extraordinary accuracy, from Savage's windmill on Stoke Hills. This view +was presented by that gentleman to the author of these pages, and it +presents all the striking accuracy and patient persevering +characteristics of a self-taught artist. + +By his own industry, and the generosity of others, he gained a few +pounds, with which he determined to settle in one of the colonies. He +obtained a passage to the Cape of Good Hope; but the poor fellow met +with a severe accident in falling down the hold of the vessel, broke his +back, and died upon the passage. + + * * * * * + +Thus ended the career of Margaret Catchpole in England, where her +virtues will long be remembered, together with her crimes. What remains +of her history will serve to show what fruits may be gathered from a +faithful spirit, a good heart, a high courage, and a strong +understanding, when disciplined in the school of adversity, and under +the guidance of good principles, seasonably instilled by kind and +judicious monitors. It will be seen that her chief temptation having +been mercifully removed, a true repentance, and an entire alteration of +life and character, entitled her to the full forgiveness, and even +approbation, of her fellow-creatures. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +BANISHMENT + + +The first news which reached England concerning Margaret was contained +in a letter written by herself, by which it appears she had obtained a +situation at the Orphan Asylum; and, as it will best explain her +feelings and situation at that time, the reader shall be furnished with +a copy of it. The sheet upon which it is written contains two letters; +one to her mistress, directed to her master; the other to Dr. Stebbing. + + "SYDNEY, Jan. 21st, 1802. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "With pleasure I cannot describe, I am permitted to take up my pen + and write to you, to acquaint you with my arrival in safety at Port + Jackson, Sydney, New South Wales, on December 20, 1801. As I left + the ship, and was about to be landed, the shore, as I approached + it, put me very much in mind of the Cliff on the banks of the river + Orwell. The houses, backed by the hills, so much resembled that + happy spot, that it put me in good spirits; and had I but seen your + smile to welcome me, I should have been happy indeed. But I thought + of you, of your prayers, your advice, your kindness and + consolation; and when I saw land so much like my own dear native + home, I really felt as if I was not entirely banished from old + England. + + "Your advice relative to my conduct on board the convict-ship was + strictly followed; and every morning I prayed that I might keep it, + and every evening I thanked God for his help. I had much influence + with the female convicts who came out with me, and prevented many + murmurs and one outbreak among them. So that, you see, dear lady, + others reaped the benefit of your instructions as well as myself. + + "Captain Sumpter gave me a good character to the governor; so that + I was not two days upon the stores, but was taken off them by Mr. + John Palmer, a gentleman of the highest respectability in the + colony. He came out as purser in the _Sirius_, with Captain Arthur + Phillip and Captain John Hunter, in January, 1787. Captain Phillip + was the first governor of this place. Mrs. Palmer is very kind to + me, and is as benevolent as yourself. She is a niece of a famous + physician in London, Sir William Blizzard; and she says, dear lady, + that she has heard her uncle speak of you. Only think that I should + be so fortunate as to find a good mistress, who had some knowledge + of you, even in this distant land! I feel this a great blessing. + + "After the loss of the _Sirius_, on a reef off Norfolk Island, Mr. + and Mrs. Palmer undertook the management of the Female Orphan + Asylum. This institution was established by Governor King, who + purchased, for the residence of my master and mistress, the elegant + house in which they now live, of Lieutenant Kent, who returned to + England two years since in the _Buffalo_. He had built it entirely + at his own expense, but he found that the country did not agree + with him. + + "You know, my dear lady, how fond I always was of children, and + here I have many cheerful young faces around me. We have already + sixty female children, who are taken as good care of as if they + were all one family belonging to Mrs. Palmer. So you see how + happily I am employed. Have I not reason to be thankful to God for + His great mercies to so unworthy a creature as myself? I know you + will rejoice to hear of my situation. You desired me to write + anything I could for your instruction. I wish my opportunities were + greater, that my letter might be more entertaining; but Mrs. Palmer + has afforded me some facilities, and I hope, when I write again, to + give you the benefit of them. + + "This country is much more like England than I expected to find it. + Garden-stuff of all kinds, except gooseberries, and currants, and + apples, are abundant. The gardens, too, are remarkably beautiful; + the geraniums run up seven or eight feet in height, and look more + magnificent than those which I used to see in your own greenhouse. + The country is very woody, so that I cannot go out any distance + from Sydney without travelling through woods for miles. They are + many of them very picturesque, and quite alive with birds, of such + exquisite plumage that the eye is constantly dazzled by them. + + "I assure you, my dear lady, that, in taking a ramble through them + with my mistress and some of the elder orphans, I felt just as I + imagine your own dear children used to feel when they walked with + me to the Grove near Hog Island, I was so pleased with the birds, + and trees, and flowers. I only wish I could send you one of the + beautiful parrots of this country, but I have no means of so doing + at present, as my money is all laid out for my future benefit. I + have no money given to me for wages. I have board and lodging; and, + if I conduct myself well, Mrs. Palmer says she will lay up a little + store against the day of my emancipation or my marriage. With + God's help, in whom I trust, I am determined to be independent of + all men. I have no desire to be married and settled, as some people + seem to say I shall be. I have no wish of the kind, neither do I + now nor do I hope to desire any better situation than that I now + enjoy, unless it were a return to England. + + "I grieve to say, my dear lady, that this is one of the wickedest + places in the world. I never heard of one, excepting those of Sodom + and Gomorrah, which could come up to it in evil practices. People + are so bold, so shameless, and so sinful, that even crime is as + familiar as fashion in England. Religion is the last thing thought + of, even by the government, which sends out criminals that most + want it. The Rev. Mr. Johnson, who is almost the only clergyman in + the whole country, comes frequently to the Foundling Asylum; but he + tells my mistress that the town of Sydney is like a place of + demons. Government is at great expense in the police establishment, + to keep our poor bodies in subjection; but I am sure, if our souls + were but a little more thought of, government would find us ten + thousand times better subjects. + + "Is it not dreadful, dear lady, that in such a country as this so + many souls should utterly perish? Surely it will never be blessed + with the blessing from Heaven, until God shall induce our + government to send us out some able ministers of the Gospel. I will + write more upon this subject at another time. I trust in God, who + has brought me over the broad sea, that He will keep me from all + evil upon this wide land. + + "The wheat harvest was almost over when I landed. Wheat is here + eight shillings per bushel at this time. There are two crops, I + understand, each summer, one of wheat and another of Indian corn. I + am told that the winter is very short; I cannot give you any + certain information yet, as I have been only one month in the + country. This letter, for the same reason, will be but a poor one; + my next will, I hope, be more worthy your perusal. I will make + minutes, according to your wishes, of all things which come under + my observation. Never, never, my dearest lady, shall I forget your + goodness to me, and especially on the last day before I left + Ipswich. + + "All the things you gave me arrived in safety with me, and are of + great service to me. Oh! how I wish that many poor creatures, whom + I see around me, had some of the blessings which I have! There are + some who have been here for years, who have their poor heads + shaved, and are sent up the Coal River. They have to carry coals + from daylight until dark. They are badly fed; and though very bad + men, who actually sell their rations of bread for three days for a + little rum, yet they ought not to be left without instruction, as + they totally are, until they perish. + + "Norfolk Island is a terrible place to be sent to. Those only who + are incorrigible are sent to this place, with a steel collar round + their necks, to work in gangs. + + "I have no government work to do; nor has the officer of government + anything to do with me. When there is a general muster of the + convicts, then only I shall have to appear, and give account of + myself. Some days I am permitted to go and see a friend at a + distance, if I have any, either at Paramatta, twenty miles, Gabley, + thirty, or Hawkesbury, forty miles from Sydney; but then I shall + have to get a passport, or I should be taken up, and put into + prison as a runaway. A very little will get a person into prison + here; but it requires a great deal of interest to get him out + again. + + "I want to say a great deal more, but time will not permit me, for + I expect the ship to sail very soon, I have been very ill since I + came on shore. At one time I was thought to be dying; but by the + blessing of God and the attentions of my mistress, I am now strong + again. I was very well during my whole voyage, though we were + tossed about tremendously in the Bay of Biscay. I was very glad to + see land, after so many months' confinement; yet I should not mind + just such another voyage at this moment, if it were but to bring me + back again to dear old England. I cannot say yet that I like this + country, or that I think I ever shall; God only knows. The governor + has a great many very beautiful cows, and so has Mr. Palmer, who is + very partial to agricultural pursuits. There are a great many + horses at Sydney, and some very neat whiskeys and little + clay-carts. There are a great many passage-boats, but all numbered + and registered, and secured, lest the convicts should use them to + attempt their escape. + + "Pray, my dear madam, let good Doctor Stebbing have the other side + of this sheet. I hope this will find you and all your good family + well. Pray, my dear lady, do not forget your promise of writing to + me by the first transport-ship that comes out; and direct to me at + Mr. Palmer's, Female Orphan Asylum, Sydney; and with deep love to + all my friends, I remain + + "Your faithful servant, + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE." + +The following is her letter to Dr. Stebbing, written on the same sheet +of paper:-- + + "DEAR SIR, + + "This is to acquaint you with our safe landing at Sydney, on the + 20th of December, and that we all arrived in good health. Barker + bore the voyage the worst of the three, and was so terrified at the + sea that she could scarcely bear to look at it; and whenever it was + rough she would never be persuaded to come on deck. She used + frequently to cry out that she wished you were near her. She is + just the same as ever, now she is on land: I regret to say, no + better. Elizabeth Killet lives very near to me, and is very well. + She and I were both taken off the stores on the same day. We have + not to go to government work, as the horses do; but we have both + obtained respectable places, and I hope we shall continue in them. + + "I am sorry to say that Barker has to spin for government, her + character not being such as to deserve a good report: she is still + upon the stores. But she can get her stint of work done by one + o'clock if she chooses to work hard at it, and then her time is her + own till six. Pray, sir, give my kind remembrance to all my + fellow-prisoners, and tell any of them that may be sentenced to + come out to this country not to be dead-hearted, as I was, about + Botany Bay; for if they are sent out, and will only conduct + themselves well, they will be better off than in prison. + + "The greater part of this country is not yet explored; and if + inhabited, it is by natives of a very low caste and hideous + features. Those that I have already seen are of a very ferocious + aspect. They carry along with them spears of great length, made of + hard wood, and a sort of hatchet, made of bone, stone, or very hard + wood. They look half-starved, and have very long, lank visages, + most hideously distorted by various customs; such as knocking out a + front tooth to denote their arrival at manhood, painting their + brows, and putting quills through the cartilage which separates the + nostrils of their wide-distended noses. + + "Their females, I am told, are in a very degraded condition, and + are generally stolen from other tribes, and brutally treated, being + beaten into immediate subjection by their husbands, who steal them. + The men seem to me a very subtle race. If they meet an unarmed + white man at a distance from home, they will spear and rob him. + They behave themselves well enough when they come into the town, + and visit, as they do sometimes, the Female Orphan Asylum, where I + live. If they did not they would soon be punished; still they are + very sly and treacherous, and can take up things with their long + toes as easily as we do the same with our hands. + + "They often have a grand fight among themselves, either to gratify + their leader or to settle some dispute between the tribes. Twenty + or thirty join in the fight, whilst all the others look on, as if + it was only a game of play; but some of them are sure to be killed. + There is nothing said or done to them for killing each other in + this manner. What horrible barbarians they must be! + + "The crops of wheat are very good in this country. Forty bushels + per acre are commonly grown; it is a very fertile place, and + fruitful in every respect. I will write more fully of the country + another time. Population increases rapidly. Some things, which we + cannot obtain, are very dear: tea is 25_s._ per pound; sugar, + 2_s._; salt beef, 1_s._; and mutton, 2_s._ per pound. A pair of + shoes, 15_s._; 10_s._ a pair of stockings; 5_s._ for a yard of + common print; calico, 3_s._ per yard; soap, 3_s._ per pound; + onions, 6_d._ per pound; potatoes, 2_d._ per pound; a cabbage, + 6_d._; rum, 5_s._ per bottle; a quart of porter, 2_s._ Fish is as + cheap as anything we can buy; but we have no money here to trade + with. + + "Pray, my dear sir, remember me to Mrs. Ripshaw, and tell her that + one of Mr. Ripshaw's daughters, who lives up in the country here, + paid a visit to the Orphan Asylum last week. She asked me, when she + heard my voice, if I was not a Suffolk woman. This led to my + knowledge of her being the daughter of Mr. Ripshaw's first wife. + Pray, write to me as soon as you can. I shall never forget your + goodness to me, from the day I rode the pony to your door till the + day I left Ipswich. I shall never forget your dear daughter, so + clever, so kind to every one. Remember me to your faithful servant, + who was such a friend to me, and give my duty to all inquiring + friends. We had not a single death in our ship, though we had near + two hundred females on board. + + "Just as I am writing this a messenger has come flying into the + town to say that the Blacks have killed eight men, women, and + children. One man's arms they have cut, and broke his bones, and + have done the same by his legs up to his knees. The poor fellow is + just now carried past to the hospital, but he looked more dead than + alive, and death would be a blessing to him. The governor has sent + out troops after them, with orders to shoot all they can find. I + hope I may be able to give you a better account of the natives when + I write again. Pray send me word if you know where Dinah Parker + and her child were sent to. Give my love to my uncle and aunt + Leader. My brother Edward should not have deserted me; I always + loved him affectionately. God bless you, dear doctor, and direct + your letter to me at Mr. John Palmer's, Female Orphan Asylum, + Sydney; and ever think of me as your faithful and humble servant, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "To JOHN COBBOLD, ESQ., Cliff, Ipswich. + "Favoured by CAPTAIN SUMPTER." + +By her good conduct in her new situation as cook and superintendent over +the dairy of Mr. John Palmer, she was found to be a very useful and +confidential person, and was soon looked upon as likely to be a very +valuable wife for a free settler. Her fondness for children, and her +management of them, came under the particular notice of Mrs. Palmer, +who, without any family of her own, had from the most humane and +benevolent motives undertaken the entire management of the Orphan +Asylum. She found Margaret as willing and as well qualified an assistant +as she could wish for. + +This school was founded in the year 1800, by Governor King. It was for +sixty female orphans. A grant of 15,000 acres of land was given to this +foundation for the maintenance and support of the children. They were to +be educated usefully and respectably, brought up to industrious habits, +and to receive the best religious instruction which could be obtained +for them. Few things in Sydney gave such general satisfaction as this +benevolent institution; few things at that period more tended to the +amelioration of the conduct of those who, from being the offscourings of +such a densely-peopled country as England, were of course so deeply +depraved as to be very difficult to recover from their evil habits. +Destitute female children were taken into this establishment. A portion +was given to each one brought up in this place of 100 acres of land, on +her marriage-day, provided she married a free settler, and was herself a +good character. This was a great inducement for the elder ones to set a +good example, as well as to induce young free men to be approved of by +the governor as worthy to receive so great a boon. Hence, in later days, +have arisen many sterling characters in the neighbourhood of Sydney. + +In this benevolent arrangement, the governor was mainly prompted and +assisted by a free settler, who had been eight years in the colony, and +was one of the first who arrived in the _Bellona_ transport, in 1793, +and settled upon a spot then called Liberty Plains. This was no other +than the reader's friend, and we hope his favourite, John Barry, whose +steady and upright character was observed by the governor; he was taken +into his confidence, and was a most admirable pattern for all settlers. +For his strict integrity and early business habits, he was chosen as the +great government agent for the distribution of lands; and he it was who +suggested to Governor King the plan of forming this Orphan +Establishment. In the sale of every 180 acres to free settlers, this +gentleman was allowed a certain percentage, which in a short time +realized to him a considerable property, in addition to that which he +had already acquired. + +John Barry was also the first to propose, and to assist with his wealth, +the building of the first church, that of St. John's, at Sydney. He +often lamented that government would not make a noble grant of land for +church purposes, and in that early day he tried hard for a public grant +for the Church of England, and mourned over the supineness of colonial +legislation upon such a vital subject. Had this good man lived but to +see the arrival of a British Bishop of Australia, it would have added +one more joy to the many which his good conduct provided for him; +indeed, he always said that such would be the case. Mr. Barry had a very +handsome house at Windsor, on the green hills of Hawkesbury; also a fine +estate, consisting of the most extensive pastures and the finest corn +district in the whole region. + +John Barry had kept his solemn word with Margaret, and had never entered +into any matrimonial alliance, though he was looked upon as the most +eligible match in the whole colony. + +And this was the person formerly known to the reader as Jack Barry, the +young farming lad, the son of the miller at Levington Creek, on the +River Orwell. With small means, good introductions, steady conduct, and +active habits, this youth rose from the day he purchased his first +hundred acres in the colony until the day of his death. Two of his +sisters had gone out to him before Margaret's committal to prison for +any offence, and all that they could tell him of her was that she was at +service at the Cliff at Ipswich, and that Laud was in the British navy. +This gave him unfeigned pleasure, though it did not permit him to hope +that he should ever see Margaret. + +Had he been certified of Laud's death, there is little doubt that he +would have returned to England. But his own family, in their +correspondence with him, never mentioned either one or the other person. + +Indeed, after Margaret became so notorious in the county of Suffolk, +they never named her to him, or sent him the papers which mentioned any +word concerning her. He very seldom named her to his sisters. He knew +nothing of her career, and she had actually been living some years +within a short distance of his own residence in Australia, without his +either seeing or hearing anything of her. In her most confidential +communications with Mrs. Palmer, she had never mentioned his name, or an +explanation must have taken place. She had the narrowest chance of +meeting him in July, 1803, when Mr. Barry came to inspect the Asylum. A +day only before he came, Margaret had been sent to a free settler's, a +relation of Mrs. Palmer's, who had the misfortune to lose his wife, and +being left with two very small children, he wanted a person like +Margaret to take care of them, and to superintend his domestic concerns. +Mrs. Palmer consented to let Margaret go, if she would, at least for a +time, until her relative could meet with an eligible person. This +gentleman's name was Poinder, and his house was at Richmond Hill. +Margaret did not raise any objection, though all felt sorry to part with +her from the Asylum; she went to oblige her mistress, and received a +handsome present from her at parting. + +The first money which this faithful creature received was devoted to the +purchase of many curious things for her dear mistress in England. These +she treasured up, anticipating the pleasure of forwarding them from +Sydney, when she had obtained sufficient to fill a chest. + +Though many letters and presents had been sent from her friends in +England, it would appear by a letter to her uncle Leader, dated December +20, 1804, that she never received any of them. That uncle conveyed her +letter to Mrs. Cobbold, who took a copy of it, from which it is here +transcribed. Three years had passed away since the date of her first +letter, and the poor creature had been vexed greatly at the non-arrival +of any tidings from her friends. + + "SYDNEY, December 20th, 1804. + + "MY DEAR UNCLE AND AUNT, + + "With great pleasure I once more take up my pen to write to you, + and all your dear children, as well as all inquiring friends, + hoping that they may all be in as good health as I am at the time + this letter leaves this country. I bless God, dear uncle, for his + past and present mercies towards me, which have been and are very + great. I am as young as I ever was; indeed I may say that I am in + spirit, if not in body, younger, freer, and happier, than I ever + was at any former period of my life. I should be almost ready to + jump over St. John's Church, which is the first church built in + this country, if I could only hear from you, or some of my dear + friends in England. You may well suppose how overjoyed I should be + to snatch up any tidings of any of you. + + "I cannot think why I have not heard from some of you. England is, + I know, in a very disturbed state and engaged in a maritime war. + This is the fourth time I have written. I sent a letter by Captain + Sumpter, on the return of the vessel I came by; my next I sent by + the _Glutton_, and my next by the _Calcutta_. I did hope that I + should have received a letter before this time. My anxieties have + been so great as almost to make me go out of my mind; for I see so + many letters arriving from London, but none for poor me. I should + be unhappy indeed if I thought that no friends in England cared for + me. + + "I am so grieved and disappointed that my dearly loved mistress has + not written to me once since we parted! I cannot bring myself to + believe that if she is alive, and is able, she has not already done + so. I fear that some accident has occurred to the ship by which she + has written to me, and that she is waiting for some reply. Do not + neglect me this time, dear uncle, for it makes me very unhappy to + think that I cannot hear from you, or any of my friends in England. + + "I am in great hopes that, if I continue in the same state that I + am now in, and, if it please God, have the same approbation of my + employers, who are high in the governor's favour, I shall have the + unspeakable joy of seeing you all again. The thought of such a + blessing makes my hand tremble, and the tears run down my cheeks so + fast, I cannot see the end of my pen. Governor King is a very good + man; he is very merciful to those who deserve it, even to those who + are, as I am, transported for life. There are many who have been + granted their free pardon with power to settle in the colony. Some + who have distinguished themselves by exemplary conduct, and have + rendered public service to the settlement, not only receive their + free pardon, but are permitted to return, if they wish it, to their + native land. The anticipation of such an event would prompt me to + any service. + + "The young man who brings this letter to England was transported + for life. He was in the governor's service, and discovered a + robbery of the government stores, for which he has received a full + and free pardon. He lived one year at John Palmer's, Esq., where I + have been living; his name is William Underwood. He was very much + approved while in my master's service, and was taken thence into + the governor's establishment. He is a good young man, and was + betrayed into a crime by a butler, who employed him to rob his + master, in London. He promises to convey this letter to England, + and to post it for you, so that I do hope this will certainly come + to hand. + + "I have left Mrs. Palmer's service for a time, at her own + particular request, and am now living as housekeeper to a young + friend of hers, who married her niece. He is a free settler. His + wife was a very sickly lady, and had, since she resided in this + spot, fallen into a rapid decline; indeed she was in a poor state + of health during her sea-voyage. She was a good and amiable lady, + and her loss is a great misfortune to the young man, and much + sorrow to my dear Mrs. Palmer. + + "The free settlers are the great farmers of this country; they have + one hundred acres of land as a grant, with power to purchase as + many more as they can; they have to clear away the woods, and burn + up the stumps, before they can grow corn, though the swine thrive + well in the thick bush. We begin to set wheat in March or April, + and the harvest comes on in November; and as soon as that is + cleared off, they set fire to the stubble, and burn it on the land, + and then put in fresh corn directly. They do not plough it, but + dibble the corn in without cleaning it, as the burning straw + destroys the roots of all the weeds. + + "In clearing new land, it is broken up by men with very large hoes, + and it is the hardest work that is done in the country. A great + price is paid for this labour, and men work too hard at it. They + frequently destroy their health and their lives, by their + over-exertion to get rich enough to buy farms for themselves. This + has been done by some robust men, but others fall a prey to the + toil. + + "This is a very dangerous country at present to settle in. The + natives, who are almost black, wear no covering, but go, most of + them, in a state of nudity. They paint their bodies with a + light-coloured ochre, marking out the ribs and bones so strongly, + that at a little distance in the shade they look like so many + moving skeletons. They are a most miserable, half-starved race of + men, but very active, very treacherous, and very bold. They seem to + have no shame. They used to bear a deadly hatred to the white + people; and if all I hear be true of some of the dealings of our + colonists with these poor wretches, I am not surprised at it. + + "They are much more reconciled to us than they were, and actually + send some of their young children to be instructed in our schools. + I do not think, however, that the race will ever amalgamate with + our own, it appears such an inferior and unsettled one. As we + advance our settlers towards the Blue Mountains, these people will + recede from us, and being divided into many tribes hostile to each + other, will never be able to unite their forces against us. + + "This country is full of curious animals. I have already collected + some skins for my dear mistress at the Cliff. I never get a fresh + one without blessing her name, and hoping that, poor as I am, I may + yet give her some little pleasure. + + "Among the snakes, few are venomous. I have seen but one, which I + am told is a very dangerous foe. Him I had a personal conflict + with, and thank God I came off victorious. I was walking with two + young children of my master's, not very far from the newly-enclosed + lands. The children were a few yards in advance of me, gathering + flowers for me, when a large black snake flew at me from the foot + of a tree, just as if it had been a dog. I had nothing in my hand + but a thin stick which I had broken off one of the fresh shoots of + a stump of a tree, which had been cut down the last winter; but I + was afterwards told that it was the very best weapon of defence + that I could have. He rose upon his tail, and darted at my face, + as if he aimed at my eyes; but just as he came within reach, I gave + him a cut over a white line at the back of his neck, which + attracted my attention; he made a beautiful curve, like the bending + of a fountain, when it has reached its height, and then fell in a + straight stiff line, licking the dust. + + "It was providential that I hit him where I did, for my master told + me it was the only place that I could have killed him on so + suddenly. He told me that he was the most venomous snake in the + country, and that, had I not broken his neck as I did, either the + children or myself would have been killed. His bite is attended + with swelling and blackness of the body, and when the sun goes down + death ensues. How merciful that the dear children had passed by him + without provoking an attack! The whole of that night I did nothing + but lie and think of this event, and thank God for my deliverance. + + "Some of the snakes which I have seen are full twelve feet long, + and thicker than a stout man's arm. These are not venomous, but + they would soon strangle a child. Some of our workmen have had + severe encounters with them. + + "I have collected a good many curiosities of this country, and have + skinned the birds and smaller animals myself, and preserved their + skins, as dear Doctor Stebbing directed me; and if I can once get a + letter from England to assure me that I live in the memory of my + friends, I will soon pack them off to my good and learned mistress. + People laugh at me sometimes for giving the value of a quarter of + an acre of land for the skin of a dead animal; but they know not + the pleasure I derive from the joy of pleasing those I love. + + "Give my love to my aunt and the dear children, and for their + sakes, as well as my own, let them see this long letter. It may + teach them to be very thankful to God; then they will bless poor + Margaret, their foster-mother, and feel glad that they are so + beloved by one so far away from them. + + "This is a very hot country. In the summer, the ground actually + scorches the feet whilst we walk upon it, and creates great + blisters, especially where shoe-leather, which is very scarce and + dear, does not protect the feet. In winter it is very cold. Not + that there is any quantity of snow, but there are very white + frosts, which penetrate to the inmost recesses of our chambers. It + is much colder and hotter than it used to be, since the country is + cleared of its shady woods, and is so much more open. It will be a + very populous and improving country. Even within a year or two, the + people seem to be more moral and domesticated than they were; but + it is a terrible place for drunkards. + + "We want British clergymen; good men of real steady principles, + such as you have in England. The governor orders the Bible to be + read at stated times to the different gangs of convicts; but then + it is a convict who can read better than the rest, and they make a + joke of him! Oh! what a sin it is that so little provision should + be made for that which would be the surest way to reform the + convicts, and to preserve their souls alive! I pray continually for + friends to help us. + + "The trees grow very fast in this country. A few pear-trees and + apple-trees are getting up, and the vine flourishes wherever it is + planted. The oak grows luxuriantly; peaches and apricots thrive; + but gooseberries and currants do not seem to suit the soil. Money + is very scarce. Copper coins are almost the value of silver, and + gold is a thing that I seldom see. Those who trade with India or + China are the only people in the colony who use it. Tea is dearer + here than it is in Old England, though we are so much nearer to the + countries where it is grown. It is a matter of luxurious indulgence + which convicts and servants do not at present enjoy. The native + flax of Norfolk Island is the finest which we can obtain. You must + not suppose that we are badly off, though some commodities may be + very dear; for this country will be, if the world stand, one of the + richest on the face of the earth: oh that it may be one of the + best! At present it is one of the worst, though improving. + + "Sarah, or, as she calls herself, Elizabeth Barker, and Elizabeth + Killet, are both living. One is doing well; I regret to state the + other does badly. + + "If the young man who brings this should write to you from London, + send an answer to him directly. He intends to return and settle + here. He is a good young man. Singularly enough, he returns to + England to gratify his aged parents with a sight of himself, and + intends to try and persuade one of his female cousins to come out + with him. + + "Pray go to my dear Mrs. Cobbold, and tell her I long to hear of + her and her family. The same of Dr. Stebbing. Be sure and direct + your letters for me at Mrs. Palmer's Orphan Asylum, Port Jackson, + Sydney. Let all your letters be left at Government House. Mrs. + Palmer will take care of any letters for me. Pray God bless and + keep you all, is the constant prayer of + + "Your affectionate niece, + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "To MR. WILLIAM LEADER, + "Brandiston, near Woodbridge, Suffolk, + "England." + +By her next letter it appears that Margaret was housekeeper to a young +widower. After living there about one year, her principles were put to a +trial, under which any less firm and stable than hers would have +succumbed. The young widower, finding what a valuable person Margaret +was, resolved to marry her. He did not think it at all necessary to pay +court to one who he thought would feel herself honoured by the proposal; +and as he fully intended to make her the mistress of his establishment, +he at once said to her-- + +"Young woman, I am resolved to marry you, and make you mistress of my +house at Richmond Hill. You need not trouble yourself to make any +preparations. I will see the Rev. Mr. Johnson, the chaplain, and +to-morrow you shall be mistress of my establishment." + +Startled as Margaret was by this wholly unexpected offer, and by the +terms in which it was couched, she hesitated not a moment in her reply. + +"I have no intention, sir, whatever," said she, "to marry any one, but +most certainly should not think of marrying you. I was sent here by your +relative, Mrs. Palmer, in the capacity of your servant, and I am willing +to fulfil the duties of that situation; but I should act with great +duplicity towards my mistress, if, without either yourself or me holding +any conversation with her upon the subject, I were to marry you. But, to +be candid with you at once, sir, I tell you I have no intention to +marry, and I will not comply with your demands in this respect." + +As may be supposed, the young man was not a little astonished; but all +he said was-- + +"Then, if you do not, you may go back to Mrs. Palmer, and say I sent +you." + +This was quite enough for Margaret, who immediately packed up her few +treasures, and started off for Sydney; and her kind friend, Mrs. Palmer, +who was equally astonished and pleased at her conduct, received her +again in a more confidential capacity. + +One thing poor Margaret had deeply to regret about this time, and it +occasioned her many tears of unaffected sorrow. She had, with +persevering care, and at serious cost, collected a great many +curiosities, seeds of plants, shells, fossils, minerals, skins of birds +and lesser animals, all which she had treasured up with the most lively +hope that they would one day reach her dear mistress in England. She +packed them in a strong box, and paid a man to carry them for her to +Mrs. Palmer's, at Sydney; but they never arrived. The man to whom they +had been entrusted broke open the box, sold the contents to a settler, +and invented a plausible tale of his being robbed by some bushmen. + +The name of the gentleman who made Margaret the offer of marriage, above +referred to, was Mr. John Poinder. He died about two years afterwards, +but left his aunt, Mrs. Palmer, sole executrix of his property, and +commended his children to her care. Margaret then returned to Richmond +Hill, to superintend the affairs of the house and the management of the +children, until they should be sent to school. + +It may be here mentioned as one of those singular coincidences to which +Margaret Catchpole's life had been subjected, that not only on this +occasion of her absence from the Asylum, but on the only other occasion +that she had ever been absent from it, Mr. John Barry visited the +institution, stayed there some time, and left it, without receiving the +smallest intimation that it was, or had been, the residence of the woman +on whom his affections had been fixed from the first moment he beheld +her, and had never swerved up to the period of which we write; and the +subsequent events which we have to record render this coincidence still +more remarkable. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +REPENTANCE AND AMENDMENT + + +Before Margaret left Sydney the second time for Richmond Hill, she had +the inexpressible delight of receiving a ship-chest from England, +containing letters and presents from her beloved mistress and friends. +The good Mrs. Palmer was requested to be present at the opening of the +chest; and never, never did the eager school-boy unpack his parcel from +home with more intense delight than this poor young woman did the box +from England. + +But her first interest was directed towards the packet of letters which +the box contained; and, until she had devoured the contents of _them_, +all else was a matter of comparative indifference to her. There were +letters from her uncle and aunt Leader, from Dr. Stebbing, from several +of her fellow-servants at the Cliff; but above all, in Margaret's +estimation, there were letters from her dear mistress--the excellent +lady of the Cliff--to whose kindness she owed and felt such lasting +gratitude. + +The reader need not be troubled with a description of the numerous +articles of wearing apparel which the box contained; nor is it needful +to do more than mention that, besides the larger objects, there was an +inner case, containing combs, thimbles, needles, netting needles and +pins, knitting needles, pins, threads, papers of Dutch tape, of Indian +cotton, of coarse threads, pincushions, scissors, knives, and all sorts +of those stores which are so precious to a housewife, when at a distance +from the ordinary sources where they are to be procured. + +Poor Margaret could neither eat nor drink till she had devoured the +contents of her letters. She wept so much during their perusal, that she +was forced to ask Mrs. Palmer to read them to her. This she did with +most sincere pleasure, for they afforded her own good heart instruction +as well as gratification. The letters written to Margaret were such as +would have gratified any intellectual and benevolent mind. They were +much admired by all who read them, but by none more than by the faithful +creature to whom they were directed. + +The following letter was addressed by Margaret Catchpole to Mrs. +Cobbold, shortly after the receipt of the box of treasures just alluded +to:-- + + "October 18th, 1807. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "With the purest pleasure I again seize an opportunity to write to + you. I feel it my duty to do so, as you are my dearest friend upon + earth. Sincerely do I thank God for your health and happiness, and + for that of all your good family. I hope and trust in God that I + shall soon hear from you again, for it is my greatest comfort in + this distant land. Oh, my dear lady, how grieved I am to tell you + that there are so many depraved creatures in this country! I have + been robbed of all my collection of curiosities, which I had been + saving up, according to your wishes, and which I intended to have + sent you by the next ship. I am sure you would have thought them + valuable, as they were all so perfect, and the birds in such good + order, skinned, and dried, and perfumed. I will endeavour to + collect them again; but I am so sorry, when I had collected so + many, and had such great pleasure in them, that I should lose them + all through the artful conduct of wicked men! + + "But I will soon be at work again for you. I have no greater joy + than to be waiting upon you; and everything I get, which I think + will be valuable to you, gives me increased satisfaction. You can + scarcely believe what happiness I experience in devoting any + portion of my time to your service. You are never out of my + thoughts, and always in my prayers. My ideas turn toward you from + every place, and in almost everything I see. When I think of the + troubles and trials you must have, with eighteen children around + you, I wonder you can at all think of me. But, dear lady, I do feel + such an interest about you and your family, that I am thankful + whenever you name any of them; and I was so delighted with your + description of them all! Always tell me about them. I sincerely + desire to know how Miss Anne is, and Miss Harriet, and Miss Sophia. + + "Have you any knowledge, my dear lady, of Governor Bligh? Alas! I + have lost a good friend in Governor King. I do think that if a + petition were presented to him in my behalf, so well known as I am + to the late governor, something might be done for me. Every one + tells me that he says my conduct has been so uniformly consistent + and good that I deserve a reward. But it requires friends near the + fountain of mercy to make its stream flow towards such as I. I + should be almost ready to die with joy if a pardon were to come to + me, with permission to return to England. I would then gladly come, + and live and die in your service. + + "Since I last wrote to you, I have been living again with Mrs. + Palmer. I sent you, by the ship _Buffalo_, a small case, containing + the skins of the rarest birds found in this country, together with + an opossum, of a dark colour, and very fierce; also a species of + rat, which very much resembles a diminutive hyena. You will find + two large, magnificent birds, called here the mountain pheasant; + they are only like our English bird in size. The plume of feathers + in the tail of the cock bird would form the most graceful ornament + for a queen's head-dress. Two noble feathers, somewhat like a + peacock's, only more brilliant and various in their colours, + surrounded by the most glittering silver lines of curving feathers, + fine as the prairie grass, and sparkling like the waves of the + ocean, ornament the tail of the male bird, whilst the female is + only remarkable for the elegance of her shape, and not for the + beauty of her plumage. + + "In my opinion, this bird is the peafowl of this country, and not a + pheasant. Early in the morning, I have seen him spring from the + thickest brushwood, and wing his arrow-like flight to the tallest + tree, and there he appears to mimic the notes of the various + songsters around him. But the most beautiful attitude that I once + saw him in beats everything I ever beheld of what men term + politeness. I have heard and have read of delicate attentions paid + to our sex by men of noble and generous dispositions; but I + scarcely ever heard of such devoted attention as I one day + witnessed in this noble bird towards his mate. I saw her sitting in + the heat of the meridian sun upon her nest, and the cock bird + seated near her, with his tail expanded, like a bower overshadowing + her; and, as the sun moved, so did he turn his elegant parasol to + guard her from his rays. Now and then he turned his bright eye to + see if she was comfortable, and she answered his inquiry with a + gentle note and rustle of her feathers. + + "Was not this a sight calculated to teach us all gentleness? Dear + lady, as I looked upon it, the tears came warmly down my cheeks, as + I thought of your good husband and yourself; and I dreamed of your + writing a poem upon this subject, and reading it to the young + ladies in the school-room. I had often wondered what use the tail + of this bird could be to him. If this be one of its general uses, + surely it is truly ornamental and useful. I hope these birds will + come safe to hand. Captain Brooks of the _Buffalo_, promised me + faithfully that he would himself forward them into Suffolk. The + thought that they may reach you and give you pleasure will make me + happy for many a long day. Owing to the late floods, every thing is + become very dear: pork, 2_s._; beef and mutton, 2_s._ 3_d._; soft + sugar, 6_s._ and 8_s._; tea, £1 10_s._ per pound; a bushel of + wheat, £1 5_s._; printed cotton, 10_s._ to 12_s._ per yard; shoes, + for females, 13_s._ per pair. Scarcely any linen cloth to be had. + Newspapers, of any date, 1_s._ a-piece. + + "But your chest, just now arrived, contains so many things of + value, that my good Mrs. Palmer has at once proposed that I should + at once open a little shop at Richmond Hill. I wrote word, in my + uncle's letter, or in my last to you, about my offer of marriage, + but the gentleman is since dead, and has left his property to the + management of Mrs. Palmer. She says I shall have a cottage of my + own, with land attached to it, and begin business for myself. You + know not, dear lady, how valuable all those things are which you + have sent to me. But your letters, and those of Mrs. Sleorgin--oh, + what a comfort they have been to me! + + "I had been very ill before their arrival. About eight months ago, + I took a long journey, for Mrs. Palmer, to arrange something about + Mr. Poinder's children. I walked a distance of thirty miles, and + over-exerted and heated myself very much, so that my body threw out + large blisters, just as if I had been burnt with small coals, and I + was so swelled out that I thought I should have lost my life. I was + under the care of a Mr. Mason, a very clever surgeon; and Mrs. + Palmer was very kind and attentive to me. Blessing be to God! I + recovered; but I am still very subject to cold and inflammation. I + am not permitted to go near the fire. + + "I am to go to Richmond Hill as soon as I can, which will be very + soon. I will write to you again when I am settled there. Only let + me thank you, as I ought, for your great goodness to one so + unworthy of it. If I should prosper, so as to get enough to keep + myself from starving in my old days, how shall I bless God for + raising me up such a friend as you have been to me! + + "Mrs. Palmer says she is very sorry to part with me, but she wishes + to serve me. She is so good to me! She was so pleased to find I was + so respected by such friends as the ladies who wrote to me. She + said she never read such beautiful letters as yours and good Mrs. + Sleorgin's, and asked me to let her take a copy of them. She had a + great desire to publish them in the Sydney paper, as she thought + they would do so much good to others as well as to myself. She + blessed your spirit, and desired me to say, that she considered me + worthy of all the favour which your generous hand had bestowed upon + me. This was her saying; but it is not my opinion, though I may say + I wish I was worthy. She desired me to say, that if you should see + Sir William Blizzard, a physician in London, he would tell you all + about her. She has promised to do all she can to obtain my + restoration to society. If I could once return to my own native + land, what a happy woman I should be! You add much to my comfort + here; for whenever I have a few moments' spare time, I am sure to + be seeking for seeds, shells, insects, or curiosities of any kind; + and the thought of whom I am serving makes me feel very happy. + Thank God! I keep myself free from all men. I have formed no + acquaintance with any man; and I may sincerely confess to you, my + dear lady, that my early attachment and deep-felt disappointment + have deadened the feelings of my heart to any further matrimonial + speculations. I do not think that any man in the colony could + persuade me to marry. My dear Mrs. Palmer has often spoken to me on + the subject, and I have never concealed the fact, that to my first + attachment I owe my present abode in this colony as a convict. I am + wise enough now to see my own follies, and I pray to God for His + forgiveness. In this colony there are few that remain single from + choice, old or young. Girls of fifteen years become mothers before + they are able to take care of themselves; and I may state it as a + curious fact, that very many whom you would suppose too old to be + mothers, have young families increasing around them. + + "Vegetation in this clime is very abundant; but there are some + fearful drawbacks to our reaping its fruits. We may have a good + crop of grain on the ground to-day, and to-morrow it may be all cut + down by a hail-storm, or destroyed by a blight, or swept away by a + flood. On Monday last, the 16th of this month, a hail-storm passed + over this place, and cut down the wheat just as it was in full + blossom. The stones which fell from the clouds were as big as + pigeons' eggs, and you may imagine the mischief which ensued. Great + numbers of fowls and small cattle were killed. The harvest will be + about six weeks hence, and will be a lamentably deficient crop. Now + begins our hot season. We dread the attacks of ophthalmia, as the + surgeons call it; we call it commonly the blight in our eyes. We + can find no remedy for it but patience. In one day our eyelids are + so swelled that we cannot see. With some it lasts a week, with + others a month, according to the state of the constitution of the + sufferer. It is a very irritating and painful disease, and none are + such dreadful sufferers as those who most deserve it, the habitual + drunkards, of which class I regret to state there are too many in + this country. + + "The natives are much more tractable than they used to be, and not + so savage and uncivilized. They will work but little; I can get + from them, however, the most rare skins of wild animals, such as + the settlers have not patience to pursue. They boast that the white + man is made for drudgery, and the black for liberty. He can roam + through his native woods and subsist without labour, whilst he + supposes that we enjoy no freedom. They have not left off their + barbarous habit of fighting and killing each other for a public + exhibition. I remember that you used to make the young ladies read + of the tournaments in the reign of Elizabeth, and how the knights + sometimes killed each other in this way. Surely those ancestors of + the English had some such spirit as these free blacks of Australia + in this day. These people form a stately circle, and contend most + skilfully and magnanimously, by fixed and settled rules of combat; + and I assure you, dear lady, that their deportment, at such times, + would be no discredit to the most gallant knights of Europe. + Gallantry towards their females, however, is at a very low ebb; + yet, for the honour of the sex, they take no delight in these + pageants of blood and murder. In this respect, degraded as they are + in other things, they are not so bad as some were in the ages of + chivalry. + + "It will not much interest you to know of our farming here, but + some of your friends may like to hear a word about it, though from + such an ignorant being as myself. The price of farming stock is + very high: a sow sells for £10; a ewe for £7; a milch-goat, £3 + 10_s._; a cow from £60 to £70; a good horse from £100 to £150. But + things will not continue in this state many years, for this is a + most prolific land. You will be more glad to hear of our great + variety of botanical plants. My good lady, Mrs. Palmer, has + promised that her friend, Mr. Mason, who is a good botanist, shall + affix the proper names to each of the specimens which I send. + + "Honoured madam, give my duty to Mrs. Sleorgin, and say how happy I + am to hear from her, and am glad that she approves of my conduct + and pursuits. I love her good advice, and endeavour to keep it. I + am so sorry that I was robbed of all my first treasures for you. My + tears, however, would not bring them back again. I will try again. + Give my duty to dear Doctor Stebbing. Oh that I could see him with + his dog and gun, upon some of our plains, or beating in the bush of + this country! I would get him to kill me many a beautiful bird to + enrich your collection. Give my duty to his daughter. Is poor old + Robinson Crusoe alive? and is Jack Whatcheer? Alas! their memory + brings back painful recollections. So, my dear lady, hoping to hear + from you again, accept the love and duty of your humble and + constant servant, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "To J. COBBOLD, ESQ., Cliff, Ipswich." + +From this letter it appears that Margaret was then upon the eve of +leaving Sydney for her cottage at Richmond Hill, some forty or fifty +miles up the country. There were a small village and store-rooms on the +banks of the river, and Margaret rented a small house and about twenty +acres of land of her friend Mrs. Palmer, at a very moderate price. Part +of her house was formed into a shop, in which all her little stock in +trade was placed and her little capital invested. The goods which were +sent her from England formed a valuable assortment; and she began by +offering for sale small portions of her general stock, so that her +customers might have the same articles upon another application. Her +house was situated in a very beautiful spot, commanding an extensive +view over a well-watered plain, with the ever-blue mountains in the +distance. + +Margaret remained at Richmond Hill, as her own independent mistress, for +five years. About two years after her residence at this place she wrote +again to her mistress, and sent a small drawing of her cottage, which +was taken by one of Mrs. Palmer's friends for this very purpose. + +The mountain pheasants, which she speaks of in the following letter, +duly arrived by the _Buffalo_. They were splendid specimens, and were in +a very perfect state. They were preserved in the author's family for +many years, and may now be seen at the public museum at Ipswich, in +company with many thousands of valuable specimens. The bird itself is +now become very scarce. A live specimen has never been brought to +England.[11] + + "RICHMOND HILL, Oct. 8th, 1809. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "I take up my pen again with new and increased delight, to say that + I duly received another box from you, which arrived at Sydney with + everything in it, according to the inventory, quite safe. A + thousand thanks for it, my dear lady, and all its valuable + contents. It was three years last June since I sent you, according + to your request, a number of our native productions. I had a cedar + case made on purpose, strong and stoutly ironed. I was told that it + would preserve the goods in a more perfect state than an oaken one; + but as you say nothing about its arrival in your letter, I fear that + it is lost. + + "I sent it on board the _Buffalo_, the ship in which Governor King + left the colony. It may, perhaps, yet reach you. I hope it will. + There were many of our Sydney newspapers in it, and a host of + birds' skins, weapons and knives, and curiosities, which I obtained + from the natives near the Blue Mountains. I can see a great part of + the chain from my chamber-window. Mrs. Palmer undertook to see the + case forwarded to you. + + "This is the second great collection I have made for you; and I + shall not, dear lady, forward any more until I hear of the safe + arrival of the last, it is so very disheartening to find all my + labour and love thrown away. Oh! how I wish that I could be + permitted to bring a cargo home for you! I would part with + everything I have most gladly for such a purpose, but I fear it + will never be; and sometimes my poor heart feels broken, as I sit + alone, pondering over all my hope and fears. + + "My dear landlady, Mrs. Palmer, has given me such a nice drawing of + my cottage and the surrounding country for you! I shall send it; + and I hope you will not think me presumptuous if I ask for one of + the dear, dear Cliff, as I know, my dear lady, that you can so + easily do one for me. If one of the young ladies would be so kind + as to copy it, then I could give Mrs. Palmer one by way of return. + Yours shall hang over my chimney-place; and when I look at it I + shall think of those happy days which I spent there with you for my + friend and mistress. + + "Ah! dear lady, when I was learning so many good lessons under your + eye, little did I think that I should reap the profit thereof in a + foreign land. Your word of approbation was a sort of foretaste of + that which, I hope and trust, we shall both rejoice to hear, 'Well + done, good and faithful servant!' + + "Dear lady, I am very contented, and am getting on well, but we + have all had severe misfortune in this district: first, by the + floods; secondly, by fire; and thirdly, by such a hurricane as + levelled whole acres of timber-trees of enormous size. We were + afraid to remain indoors lest our houses should fall on our heads; + and out of doors we could hardly stand at all. Great trees swept by + us as if they had been straws. + + "The flood in the month of May distressed us very much; but that on + the 31st of July and the 1st of August, the days after the high + wind, was dreadful. It was the greatest ever experienced by any of + the settlers, though the natives speak of one which covered all the + plain from the mountains, and was deeper than our church is high. + The one I have so lately witnessed went over the tops of the houses + on the plain; and many poor creatures were on their chimneys crying + out for mercy, and for boats to go to them. It was shocking to hear + their cries, and it made me feel so wretched at not being able to + relieve them. It was very dangerous to approach them, for sometimes + the eddies were so strong round their houses that boats were swept + away, or swamped in the attempt. I saw one boat completely sunk by + a tree falling upon it, just as it was passing; and had not another + boat been near to take the sufferers off the boughs upon which they + had climbed, they must all have perished. + + "One man, of the name of Thomas Lacey, and his wife and family, + were carried away in a barn. They got upon the mow, and broke a + hole through the thatch. I saw them, dear creatures, holding up + their hands to heaven as they passed us on the sweeping flood, and + imploring our help. It made my spirit rise within me; and I thought + how God had made me instrumental in saving life in former days, and + I could not resist the impulse of that which at first the people + called my madness. I called to some men who were standing near a + boat moored to the bank, and urged them to go with me to the + rescue, but they would none of them stir. I took two long + linen-lines, and tied them together, and requested the people on + the bank to assist me, for I was determined to go alone if they + would not go with me. + + "I jumped into the boat, and then the men were ashamed, and took + their oars, and said they would go without me; but no, that I was + determined they should not do; so the man slackened the rope, as we + were carried by the stream towards the barn, which had fortunately + grounded upon the stump of some large tree which had collected a + quantity of earth so as to form a bank near it. We had hard work to + get up towards the smooth-water side of the barn; but the men kept + the boat close to the side by pushing against the trunk of the + tree; and I stood up at the head of the boat, and received the dear + children into my arms. They were all taken from the thatch, and we + launched again into the eddies. + + "Had it not been for the line, we should have been sent down the + stream like an arrow from a bow. All our fear was lest the line + should break, and if it had we could never have rowed up the + stream. Thanks be to the providential mercy of God, we were all + hauled safe to land. + + "Oh! how the dear children did cling to me! They told me that they + saw great alligators come up and look at them; but, poor things! + their terrible situation would make them magnify a floating tree + into an alligator. Horses, cows, sheep, and all kinds of animals, + were hurried along the waters to the sea. I wonder whence all this + body of fresh water can come from! We had no previous rains, and + yet thousands and thousands of acres were covered ten, fifteen, and + twenty feet deep with these floods. + + "I brought Mr. Lacey's family to my own house. You know, my dear + lady, how fond I am of children. I take care of them, and they + assist me, until their father shall have got another habitation to + take them to. Some poor creatures expired just as help reached + them. They got on to houses, barns, stacks, and trees, and were + often swept off all these resting-places. Many persons were + drowned; many lost all their property. We were all fearful at one + time that we should be swallowed up. Part of the hill on which my + cottage stands began to cave away, and has left a cliff several + feet high for a long distance. I was very near losing my own life; + for I was standing on the verge of the hill when a part of my own + field close by my feet caved in, and was swept away by the flood. + It seemed to melt away like sugar in a cup; but, God be praised! I + just escaped falling with it. You may believe that it terrified me. + + "I have about twenty acres of land from my dear friend, Mrs. + Palmer, who sends me one man to help me in the cultivation of it. + Some have lost all: my loss is estimated at about fifty pounds. + Everything is now so dear in the colony that my little stock in my + shop is as much as doubled in its value; so that my loss in one way + will be made up in another. + + "We are almost afraid of starvation on account of the many thousand + bushels of Indian corn carried away by the flood. This corn, mixed + with a little wheat, makes most excellent bread. You may imagine, + dear lady, how we suffer, when I state that most of the wheat then + in the ground was completely rooted up and carried away like + sea-weed. All manner of grain has become very dear. Government has + issued a certain quantity for each sufferer for seed-corn. + + "Clothing of all kinds is very scarce; but whilst I am writing, + news has just arrived that a ship has providentially come into port + laden with a vast supply, so that it will soon be the cheapest + thing we can get. I should have done great things this year but for + the flood; but I have every reason to be thankful for that which is + left for me. + + "My prayers, dear lady, are always for your happiness, and for the + good of all your dear family. Pray God that I may have the comfort + to hear from you again! It is the comfort of heaven to me to hear + that you and yours are well. Give my dutiful thanks to that dear + lady, Mrs. Sleorgin, for the handsome present of books which she + has sent me, and for the letter of good advice which accompanied + it. Assure her, dear madam, that I endeavour to follow her advice + every day. How thankful ought I to be to God that I have such dear + friends who care for me! + + "My health at times is not good, and I am still very thin. Tell Dr. + Stebbing that I walk every day farther than the space between his + house and Nacton Street. God bless him! I have got several packages + of curiosities for him. The greatest pleasure I have in this + country is the hope of hearing from you, dear lady. I shall feed + upon this hope for the next twelve months; and I assure you, when + your letters do arrive, I am just as delighted as a child would be + to hear from an affectionate parent. + + "Give my love and duty to my master, and all the young people who + may chance to know my name, and ever believe me to be + + "Your affectionate servant, + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "JOHN COBBOLD, ESQ., Cliff, Ipswich." + +The last letter received from Margaret _Catchpole_ is also dated from +Richmond Hill. It breathes the same affectionate attachment and anxiety, +and is given here as worthy of the same attention as the former ones:-- + + "RICHMOND HILL, Sept. 1st, 1811. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "On the 8th of August of this year, 1811, I received my cedar case + that Captain Prichard should have brought. It is almost two years + ago since he landed the troops at Sydney. Mrs. Palmer, my + ever-constant friend, took charge of it for me, until I was enabled + to go down myself. When I received tidings of its arrival, I set + off from my cottage, and walked the whole way, leaving the eldest + child I took from the flood to take care of my house. It is full + fifty miles from Richmond Hill to Sydney. Mrs. Palmer could not + think where the case could have been all that time. But your + letter, my dear madam, has set all our minds easy upon the subject. + + "At first I thought it was the case, and all the things I sent you, + come back again. But bless you, dear lady, for thinking of me! I + was greatly rejoiced when I found that you had received the birds + quite safe, and that they gave you such pleasure. Everything that + you have sent me is quite safe, and so delightfully packed, that I + could see your own dear handiwork in the whole process. All are, I + assure you, very acceptable to me; and many thousand thanks do I + give for them. I never can feel sufficiently thankful to heaven and + you. + + "How deeply do I feel the loss of dear Mrs. Sleorgin! With God's + help, I will endeavour to follow her good advice to the day of my + own departure, and then I shall meet her again. My loss is, I am + persuaded, her own gain. Her blessings have come here, and will be + fruitful to her own good soul in a happier world. I am very fond of + reading those good books which she has sent me, and I shall always + be reminded of the benevolent donor. + + "Dear lady, I am grieved to hear of the death of poor Miss Anne + that was. She was always the most meek-spirited of all the young + ladies. Master Rowland was always my favourite. He was born in + those happy days when I lived with you; and he, too, is gone. Your + letter conveys very anxious tidings; and though joyful to me to see + your dear handwriting, yet I grieve to find that you have been so + ill. Oh! if there was anything in this country that would do you + good, however difficult it might be to be obtained, I would not + cease using all my efforts until I had got it for you. If I can + find anything at any time which may be new to you, and please your + dear, good mind, anything you have not heard of before, what + pleasure it will be to me! + + "Oh! never can I be dutiful or grateful enough to you for your + goodness to me. God preserve you long to be a blessing to your dear + family and friends! + + "I am ashamed, my dear madam, to send this hasty scribble into your + hands, but the ship is about to sail directly, and I am hard + pressed for time. I am pleased to think that you got my long list + of dried plants and birds. I am sorry the insects were not better + fastened in the case; I will attend particularly to your + instructions about them for the future. I am living alone, as I was + when I last wrote you, and am getting on well, in a very honest and + independent way of life. People wonder why I do not marry. I cannot + forget my late trials, troubles, and horrors, and I dread forming + any acquaintance with any man. I was happy before such notions + entered my mind, and I have been comparatively happy since I have + had no more notions of the same sort. So I am single and free. + + "The cap you have sent me, which you say is a great favourite of + yours, I put on last evening, and drank my tea in it, with some + tears of reflection. My heart was so full, to think that the work + of your own hands, and that which had graced your own head, should + cover such an unworthy one as mine, it made me feel humble and + sorrowful, as well as joyful and thankful. I must hastily conclude + this letter, as the messenger calls for any ship letters for + Sydney. May the blessings and thanks of your grateful servant reach + your dear heart, from the soul of + + "Your ever devoted servant, + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "J. COBBOLD, ESQ., Cliff, Ipswich." + +It is now time that our attention should be recalled to one whose +conduct has, we trust, already gained him a place in the reader's +esteem, and who after all must be looked upon as the true hero of our +simple story. John Barry (now most worthy to have that old English title +of Esquire attached to his name, as being the highest which was +acknowledged in the settlement, under the governor) had, as the reader +will remember, arrived at New South Wales, and settled at Liberty +Plains. He was among the earliest free settlers in the land, and was a +man of such firmness and steadiness of character, of such integrity and +perseverance, that he succeeded far beyond his own most sanguine +expectations, and established for himself such a character for probity, +sagacity, and general worth, that he was consulted upon all the most +interesting concerns of the colony. He it was who suggested to Governor +King the first idea of establishing the "Female Orphan Asylum," and +proposed attaching one hundred acres of land as a marriage portion for +the children. He it was who laid the second stone of St. John's Church, +Paramatta. He built the first free-trader that was ever launched from +Port Jackson. That he prospered it is needless to declare, because +industry and integrity, with activity of mind, intelligence, and +sincerity, must prosper in any place. He was a merchant as well as a +great corn grower: he was also, as we have before stated, the government +contractor for land. He never caballed with any one party against +another, for the sake of increasing the price of land, but honestly, in +a straight-forward way, stated the price per acre, the quantities that +parties might have, and the money expected in a given time. He had sold +for the government many thousand acres of the finest tract of land, +which bordered upon the river Hawkesbury, and retained a portion for +himself at Windsor, by the Green Hills, for which he strictly paid the +highest price that was then given for land in that district. + +His residence, called Windsor Lodge, was situated on a very commanding +spot upon the south bank of the river. At a short distance from the +water he had built very large granaries, capable of holding an immense +quantity of grain, and this spot became the great corn-mart of the +country; the grain was thence transported to the coast, and supplied +every port connected with the colony. The Hawkesbury is a noble river, +particularly opposite to Windsor Lodge, the house, or rather mansion, of +the owner of the Green Hills around. If real worth and talent, if +public and private benevolence, with the most expansive views of men and +things, together with acts of such virtue and dignity as speak the +spirit of true nobility, could be found in any one, they existed in the +mind and heart of that youth, who left the shores of old England a +simple, single-minded Suffolk farmer's son, to become a man of wealth +and goodness in a distant land. + +It is true that no chivalric deed of arms signalized his career: he was +an enterprising, but a peaceful man; he could boast no long line of +ancestry higher or more exalted than himself. His parents were good, +honest, and virtuous people, and their son bore the same character, but +with the possession of superior information; and may we not, in some +measure, trace the origin of all this man's virtues and good qualities +to that passion which still, as it was in the olden times, is the parent +and prompter of all that is great and noble, all that is gentle; all, in +short, that distinguishes man from the brutes that perish? Love dwelt, a +pure and holy flame, in the breast of this young man; and change of +scene, change of condition, increase of knowledge, of wealth, and of +circumstances--in short, circumstances which would have changed almost +any other being--changed not him. + +It may seem strange to many that Mr. Barry should have been so long a +leading man in the colony, and in constant communication with England, +and never have heard of the fate of Margaret Catchpole. But when they +understand that all notice of her career had been studiously excluded +from the correspondence of his friends in England; and, moreover, that +convicts of all classes, when they came to Botany Bay, were sent to the +northward to be employed on the government stores, and that the +Hawkesbury was devoted principally to free labourers and settlers, and +that the line of demarcation between convict and free settler was +extremely strict, their surprise will in a great degree cease. + +Beloved and respected by all, as John Barry was, the wonder with all +was that he never married. With every comfort around him, with health +and cheerfulness, a goodly person, great repute, and wealth scarcely +equalled by any one in the colony, he still remained a lone man; and but +that he evinced a kind, benevolent, and friendly disposition towards all +their sex, the females would have set him down as a cold ascetic. He was +far from being this kind of person. Love was the ruling principle of his +life; and though he had himself suffered so much from disappointment +that he never had the slightest inclination to address his affection to +another, yet he encouraged social and domestic virtues in others, and +advised many not to follow his bachelor example. His own sisters he had +portioned off handsomely; and one of his greatest relaxations was to +visit their abodes and to delight in their happiness and prosperity. + +In the year 1811, Mr. John Barry was visited with a deep affliction, in +the loss of one of his sisters, who died of fever, leaving a husband and +a young family of seven children. But how surely does good spring out of +seeming evil! Fraught as this event was with the most poignant grief to +John Barry, it was, nevertheless, the ultimate cause of the consummation +of all his hopes, and the completion of that happiness which he had so +richly earned. Deeply desiring the welfare of his sister's children, and +seeing the forlorn condition to which they were reduced by the death of +their excellent mother, he at once acted with an energy and discretion +which the afflicted husband could not command. He sought to obtain as +speedily as possible some respectable person to take charge of the +family, and he remembered that Mrs. Palmer had mentioned to him a +valuable person, whom she had sent to Richmond Hill, to take charge of +some motherless children related to herself. He therefore went down to +Sydney immediately, and obtained an interview with that lady at the +Orphan Asylum. + +"I think, my dear madam, you mentioned to me, two or three years ago, +that you lost a relative who left a young family, and that you sent a +confidential female to superintend and take care of the children?" + +"I did, sir, and a most valuable treasure she has always been to me. She +lived with the husband of my relative for two years as housekeeper and +general superintendent of his establishment. He is, however, since +dead." + +"And she----" + +"Is still living at Richmond Hill, but perfectly independent. It was a +curious and unprecedented fact in this country, for a young woman in her +situation to refuse the hand of the very man whose family she managed; +but she did so, and to her honour and credit; for the love she bore me +she left his service and returned to live with me. I was, as you may +conceive, greatly pleased with her, and took her still more closely into +my confidence. Two years after this the husband of my late relative +died, leaving his whole property at Richmond Hill to me, for the benefit +of his children, and in case of their death, to me and my heirs for +ever. The poor children, always sickly, died in this house, and the +property is now let to a most respectable tenant. I reserved twenty +acres and a cottage for this young woman, who had acted so generously; +and I do not scruple to tell you, that though she pays a nominal rent to +me for the cottage and land, yet I have always put that rent into the +bank in her name, with the full intention of leaving her the property I +mention." + +"I am very much obliged to you for the information which you give me. +You have heard that I have lost my youngest sister Maria. She leaves a +disconsolate husband with seven young children, the eldest only eight +years of age. My object in asking about this person was to secure her as +guardian of these dear children; and the manner in which you have spoken +of her convinces me that she would be eligible and valuable, if she were +but at liberty to come. Do you think you could persuade her to undertake +the duty? I would send a man to farm her land for her, and devote the +whole rent to her remuneration." + +"I am afraid she would not leave her present home and occupation. She +keeps a small store and lives entirely by herself, except that a little +girl, whose life she saved from the great flood, assists her. You would +have been very much pleased with her had you witnessed her brave conduct +in risking her own life in the attempt to save a Mr. Lacey and his +family, who on that day were carried away in their barn. She put to +shame the spirits of several men who stood looking on the waters, and +refused to go to the assistance of those poor creatures. She would +positively have gone alone, and entered the boat with the full +determination to do so, if they refused to accompany her. They were at +length fairly shamed into going along with her to the spot where the +barn had grounded, and thus actually rescued the whole family from their +perilous situation. I wonder you did not see the account of it in the +_Sydney Gazette_." + +"You interest me very much in this person," said Mr. Barry; "she must be +a very extraordinary woman." + +"She is, indeed. But this is not the most extraordinary feat of her +life. She is a convict, and was transported to this country for stealing +a horse, and riding it a distance of seventy miles in one night." + +"But how came you to know her?" + +"She was recommended to me by Captain Sumpter, who conveyed her in his +ship to this country, and gave her an excellent character. She was so +highly mentioned in his letters, that I took her into the establishment +at the Female Orphan Asylum, and found her all that I could desire, and +much more than I could have had any reason to expect." + +"Do you know what her character was in England?" + +"Her whole history has been laid before me. And this I can +conscientiously declare, that she was guilty of but one great error, +which betrayed her into the commission of an offence for which she was +sent to this country. Her besetting sin was misplaced affection, an +unaccountable attachment to an unworthy man. She stole a horse from her +master to meet this lover in London, and was sentenced to death for so +doing. She was reprieved, owing to her previous good character, and +would never have been sent to this country, had she not been persuaded +by the same man to break out of prison. She effected her escape from +gaol, and would have got clear out of the country, but for the activity +of a young man (by-the-by, a namesake of yours) in the coastguard, who +shot her lover in a skirmish on the sea-shore; and then she was retaken, +tried a second time, and a second time condemned to death; but her +sentence was commuted to transportation for life." + +On looking on the countenance of Mr. Barry at this moment, Mrs. Palmer +was surprised to see it deadly pale. + +"You are ill, sir," she exclaimed; "pray let me send for assistance." + +"No, no, I thank you; I shall be better presently. A little faintness +came over me, doubtless from the interest I feel in the history you have +related to me." + +With great effort Mr. Barry commanded himself, as he said in a trembling +voice, "And the name of this singular person is----" + +"Margaret Catchpole," replied Mrs. Palmer, as he seemed to pause. + +Overpowered by emotion of the most conflicting kind, Mr. Barry was +completely unmanned. Accustomed for so long a time to smother his +affections, he now found his heart bursting with the fullness of agony +at finding the being so highly recommended to him, and one whom he had +never ceased to love--_a convict_. + +"Oh, my respected friend!" he exclaimed, "I loved that woman long before +I came to this country. I love her still--I confess I love her now; I +cannot, I do not, from all I know of her, and from all you tell me, +believe her to be an abandoned character;--but she is a convict." + +"Alas! she is," replied Mrs. Palmer. "You astonish, you amaze me, Mr. +Barry. Does she know your situation in this country?" + +"I should think not, for I have had no information of hers up to this +time. You must know that I would have brought her out to this country as +my wife, but she was then attached to another. That other, I fear, was +shot by my brother. He was a smuggler, and my brother was in the +preventive service. She may not retain any feeling towards me but +respect." + +"I have never heard her mention your name, nor had I the slightest hint +of these circumstances. I do not think she dreams of your existence. +This is a large country, Mr. Barry, and if your name and fame in it have +ever reached her ear, depend upon it she does not think that you are the +person who once addressed her. But if she should hear it, I can tell you +that she is so truly humble a creature, that she would think it +presumption even to fancy that you could still love her. She is the +meekest and most affectionate creature I ever knew." + +"I can believe it, if she is anything like what I remember of her; she +is warm-hearted, honest, open, and sincere, but uneducated." + +"She is all the first-mentioned, but far, very far from being the last. +In some things she is as well informed as ourselves, and in the best of +all books she is really well read. She daily reads and understands her +Bible. Her mistress, copies of whose letters I can show you, instructed +her with her own children; and I can assure you, that in nothing but the +want of station is she inferior to the best of her sex." + +After the first struggles of his emotion were over, Mr. Barry made a +complete confidante of Mrs. Palmer, and at once revealed to her the +state of his own feelings respecting Margaret; and she fully explained +to him what had been the excellent conduct of the object of his +affection since her residence in that country. After hearing her +statement, and appearing to consider within himself for a brief space, +he said-- + +"I think I have sufficient interest with the governor to obtain her free +pardon. If you can furnish me with the numbers of the _Sydney Gazette_ +in which she is mentioned, I will urge upon that humane man the policy +of rewarding such an example as that which she set in rescuing the lives +of Mr. Lacey and his family from the flood. I will take your +recommendation, also, to the governor, and see what may be done. In the +meantime, I beg you to take the earliest opportunity of mentioning my +name to her in any manner you may think best. My mind is made up. If I +procure her pardon, and she will listen to me favourably, I will marry +her. You may tell her so, if you find her favourably disposed towards +me." + +That very day the good Mrs. Palmer wrote the following note to Margaret +Catchpole:-- + + "SYDNEY, Sept. 21, 1811. + + "MY GOOD MARGARET, + + "I desire to see you at Sydney, and have sent a conveyance for you + that you may not be oppressed with the journey. I have something + particular to communicate, but shall not tell you by letter what it + is, that you may not be over-anxious. I shall simply call it a + matter of most momentous business, which concerns both you and me, + and also a third person. Your attendance here will greatly + facilitate the settlement of the affair. And in the meantime, + believe me, + + "Your sincere friend, + "ELIZA PALMER. + + "To MARGARET CATCHPOLE, Richmond Hill." + +It was indeed a great piece of news which this kind-hearted woman had to +communicate to her husband. Still he was not so surprised as she +expected him to have been. + +"I have always thought, from his manner, that Mr. Barry had some strong +and secret attachment in England. I fancied that he was in love with +some damsel of high birth in his native country; and truly do I think +him worthy of any lady's hand. I little dreamed, however, of his real +position. He is a good man, and will make a most excellent member of our +highest society, and will exalt any woman he may take to be wife. But +how do you think Margaret is affected towards him?" + +"It is that very thing I wish to know. I cannot really tell. She has +been as great an exclusive in her way as he has been in his; and I +confess that my present opinion is, that she will never marry." + +"She would really be to blame if she did not. I think this match would +tend to soothe that growing distance and disrespect which exists between +the emancipated and the free settlers. At all events, it is highly +honourable and noble in our excellent friend." + +"I think she would be wrong to refuse such an offer. But she has shown +herself so independent, that unless a real affection should exist, I +feel persuaded that she will live at Richmond Hill in preference to +Windsor Lodge. I expect her here to-morrow, as I have sent the chaise +for her." + +Mr. Barry repaired to the governor's house and had a long interview with +him. He had some general business to speak of and several public matters +to arrange; but he made haste to come to the case of a female convict, +Margaret Catchpole, which he laid before the governor with such zeal, +that the latter could not help observing the deep interest he took in +her behalf. + +"Has your honour seen the nature of the offence for which she was +transported, or ever heard of the motive which prompted it? I have +brought testimony sufficient to corroborate my account of her. I have +the letters of recommendation for good conduct during her voyage to this +country. I have the highest character to give of her all the time she +has been with Mrs. Palmer, and a particular instance of personal courage +and self-devotion, in saving the lives of a whole family in the late +dreadful flood. Her present situation is so highly respectable, and +exhibits such an instance of moral and religious influence triumphant +over the dangers of a degraded position, that, when I heard of it, I +could not fail to lay it before your honour." + +"And a most admirable advocate would you have made at the bar, Mr. +Barry. You have pleaded this young woman's case with such fervour, that +positively, but for your well-known character in the colony, I should +suspect you had some private interest in obtaining her pardon. I do +think, however, that the case is a very proper one for merciful +consideration, and highly deserving of the exercise of that prerogative +which the government at home has attached to my power; and I shall +certainly grant a free pardon. But, without any intention of being too +inquisitive, may I candidly tell you, that from the animated manner in +which you have spoken of the virtues of this said female, I am induced +to ask, why you have taken such a peculiarly personal interest in her +favour?" + +"I will honestly confess at once that I ask it upon the most +self-interested grounds possible: I intend to offer her my hand." + +The governor looked all astonishment. "What? Do I really hear it, or is +it a dream? You, Mr. Barry, the highest, and wealthiest, and most +prudent bachelor in the settlement, one who might return to England and +be one of her wealthiest esquires; and here, enjoying more reputation, +with less responsibility, than the governor--you about to form a +matrimonial alliance with----" + +The governor paused; he found his own eloquence carrying him too far; he +considered the character of the man before him, knew the excellence of +his principles and his heart, and dreaded to wound his generous soul; he +changed his tone, but not the earnestness of his appeal. + +"Have you well weighed this matter, Mr. Barry? Have you consulted with +your friends around you? You are not the man to be caught by outward +appearances, nor to be smitten by passing beauty without some qualities +of domestic happiness, arising from temper, mind, character, and +disposition. How long has this attachment been in existence?" + +"From my youth, your honour: I have not yet seen her since that happy +time when she was a free woman in my native land, enjoying that honest +liberty which is the pride and glory of England's virtuous daughters of +every station in the land. I was then in her own condition of life. We +had both to earn our bread by the labour of our hands; we both respected +each other: would I could say that we had both loved each other! I +should not like to see her again until I can look upon her as a free +woman, and it is in your power to make her that happy being, upon whom I +may look, as I once did, with the warmest affection." + +"I ask no more, Mr. Barry, I ask no more. You have been an enigma to +many of us; it is now solved. It gives me real pleasure to oblige you, +and in such a case as this the best feelings of my heart are abounding +for your happiness. Her freedom is granted. To whom shall I commit the +pardon?" + +"Will you permit me to take it?" + +"Most gladly." + +The governor's secretary was immediately summoned, and the form of +pardon duly signed, sealed, and delivered to the joyful hand of Mr. John +Barry. + +"And now," said the governor, "permit me to say that we shall at all +times be happy to receive you at Sydney; and in any way in which you can +find my countenance and support serviceable, I shall always be ready to +give them." + +A cordial shake of the hand was mutually exchanged, and Mr. Barry +returned that day to Windsor Lodge one of the happiest, as far as hope +and good deeds can make a man so, on this changing earth. + +He had communicated his success to Mrs. Palmer before he left Sydney. +The green hills of Hawkesbury never looked so bright in his eye before, +his house never so pleasant. + +His servants saw an evident change in his manner, from the anguish of +mourning for the loss of a sister, to what they could not quite +comprehend; a state of liveliness they had never before witnessed in +him. Their master never appeared so interested about the house, the +rooms, the garden, and the green lawn. He was most unusually moved; he +gave orders for the preparation of his house to receive his +brother-in-law's children, to the great amazement of his female +domestics, who could not conceive how a bachelor would manage such a +family. + +He did not breathe a word of his intention to any of his domestics; but +every one observed a great change in his behaviour, which all his +habitual quietude could not entirely conceal. + +He wandered down to his favourite spot upon the river, and indulged in a +reverie of imaginary bliss, which, to say the truth, was more real with +him than with many thousands who fancy themselves in love. + +Margaret arrived at Sydney on the day following the receipt of Mrs. +Palmer's letter. She was a little excited at the tone of that epistle, +but much surprised at being received in a manner to which she had never +been accustomed. Margaret saw in a moment, from Mrs. Palmer's manner, +that she had something to communicate of a very different kind to what +she had before mentioned, and at once said-- + +"I perceive, my dear lady, that you have something to say to me which +concerns me more than you wish to let me see it does, and yet you cannot +conceal it. You need not be afraid to tell me; good or bad, I am +prepared for it, but suspense is the most painful." + +"The news I have to tell you then is good; to be at once declared--it is +your free pardon!" + +"This is news indeed, my dearest lady; almost too good news--it comes so +unlooked for; forgive my tears." Margaret wept for joy. + +"Shall I again see dear old England? shall I again see my dear friends, +my mistress, my uncle, aunt, and family? Oh! how shall I ever repay your +kindness? Oh! what can I say to you for your goodness? On my knees, I +thank God, my good friend, and say, God be praised for His mercies, and +bless you, the instrument thereof!" + +"You may thank God; but you must not bless me, Margaret, for I am only +the bearer of the news. I have not even got the pardon in my possession; +but I have seen it. It is signed by the governor, and I know that you +are free." + +"Oh! thanks, dear lady, thanks!--but is it not to Mr. Palmer that I am +indebted? You must have had something to do with it." + +"Nothing farther than the giving you a just character to the governor by +the hand of a gentleman, who has interceded with him, and has pleaded +your cause successfully." + +"Who is the gentleman? Do I know him?" + +"Yes, you may know him when you see him. He read the account of your +saving the family of the Laceys in the flood; he listened with attention +to your former history: he does not live in Sydney, but at Windsor, on +the Hawkesbury; yet, from his interest with the governor, he obtained +your pardon." + +"Bless the dear gentleman! How shall I ever be grateful enough to him? +But you say I know him?" + +"I say I think you will. I know you did once know him, but you have not +seen him for many years." + +"Who can it be, dear lady? You do not mean my brother Charles?" + +"No." + +"Who then can it be? Not my former master, or any of his family?" + +"No, Margaret; I must be plainer with you. Do you remember a young man +of the name of Barry?" + +"John Barry! Yes, I do. What of him? He went to Canada." + +"No, he did not. He came to this country, has lived in it many years, +and has prospered greatly. He is in the confidence of the governor. He +accidentally discovered you were in the country. He it was--yes, he it +was--who went that very hour to the governor, and I have no doubt asked +it as a personal favour to himself that you should be pardoned. What say +you to such a man?" + +"All that I can say is to bless him with a most grateful heart. Oh! dear +lady, he saved my life once, and now he gives me liberty! He was a good +young man; too good for such as me to think upon, though he once would +have had me think more of him. I had forgotten all but his kindness, +which I never can forget; and now it overwhelms me with astonishment. Is +he married, and settled in this country?" + +"He is settled, but not married. He has been a prosperous man, and is as +benevolent as he is rich; but he never married, at which we have all +wondered." + +This declaration made Margaret blush; a deep crimson flush passed over +her cheeks, and was succeeded by extreme paleness. Her heart heaved +convulsively, a faintness and dizziness came upon her, and she would +really have fallen had she not been supported by the kind attentions of +her benefactress. + +"He has kept his word! Oh, Mrs. Palmer! I never thought to see him +again. I mistook the country he left me for. I have often thought of his +goodness to me in former days. I am now indebted to him for double +life!" + +"Margaret, what if I tell you that for you only has he kept himself +single?" + +"There was a time when he might and did think of me; but that time must +be gone by." + +"I tell you, he loves you still." + +"Impossible! Oh, if he does!--but it is impossible! Madam, this is all a +dream!" + +"It is a dream, Margaret, from which you will shortly awake, as he is in +the house at this moment to present himself with the governor's pardon!" + +"Dear lady, pray be present with me; I know not how to meet him!" + +The door just then opened, and in came Mr. Barry, with the governor's +pardon in his hand. He approached Margaret, as she clung to Mrs. Palmer, +agitated beyond measure. She regarded him with more solemn feelings than +she did the judge who condemned her twice to death. She dropped upon her +knees, and hid her face before her deliverer. He lifted her up and +seated her, and, in the language of gentleness and tenderness, addressed +her thus:-- + +"Margaret, I have brought you a free pardon from the governor. Need I +remind you that God has mercifully sent me before you in this instance +to be your friend? To Him I know you will give all the thanks and +praises of a grateful heart." + +"To Him I do first, sir; and to you, as his instrument, in the next +place. I am afraid to look upon you, and I am unworthy to be looked upon +by you. I am a----" + +"You need not tell me, Margaret, what you have been. I know all. Think +not of what you were, but what you are. You are no longer a convict; you +are no longer under the ban of disgrace; you are no longer under the +sentence of the offended laws of man; you are now a free subject; and if +your fellow-creatures do not all forgive you, they cannot themselves +hope for forgiveness. You are at liberty to settle wherever you please." + +"Oh! dear sir; and to you I owe all this! What will they say to you in +England, when I again embrace my dear friends there, and bless you for +the liberty thus granted me?" + +"Margaret, hear me again. Remember, when I last saw you, I told you then +what I dreaded, if you refused to come out to this country with me. How +true those fears were, you can now judge. You made a choice then which +gave me anguish to be surpassed only by the present moment. You speak +now of returning to England. You have got your pardon, and are at +liberty so to do. It may seem ungenerous to me, at such a moment, to +urge your stay; but hear now my opinion and advice, and give them the +weight only of your calm judgement. If you return to England, take my +word for it you will not be happy. You will never be as happy as you may +be here. I speak this with feelings as much alive to your interest now +as they were when I last parted with you. I will suppose you returned. +Your own good heart makes you imagine that every one would be as glad to +see you there as you would truly be to see them. Your own heart deceives +you. I have known those who so bitterly lamented their return to +England, that they have come again to settle in this country, and have +offended those friends who would have respected them had they remained +here. When at a distance they felt much for them; but when they came +near to them, the pride of society made them ashamed of those who had +been convicts. It may be that some would be glad to see you; your good +mistress, your uncle and aunt: but circumstances might prevent their +being able to do you any great service. Your former mistress has a large +family, your uncle the same; you have no independence to live upon +there. The eye of envy would be upon you if you had wealth, and +detraction would be busy with your name. People would talk of your sins, +but would never value you for your integrity. You would probably soon +wish yourself in this country again, where your rising character would +be looked upon with respect, and all the past be forgiven, and in time +forgotten. Here you would have an established character: there you would +always be thought to have a dubious one. Besides all this, you are here +prospering. You can have the great gratification of relieving the +necessities of your aged relatives, and of obliging your best friends. +You would, believe me, be looked upon by them with far greater respect +and esteem than if you were nearer to them. Think, Margaret, of what I +now state, and divest yourself of that too great idea of happiness in +England. You are at liberty to go; but you will enjoy far greater +liberty if you stay in this country." + +"What you say, sir, may be true in some respects; but I think I should +die happy if I once more saw my dear friends and relatives." + +"God forbid that I should not approve your feeling! I, too, have a +father, and mother, and brothers in England, but I hear from them +continually, and they rejoice in my welfare. I love them dearly as they +do me. Two sisters have come out to me, and both have married and +settled in the country. One I have lost, who has left a husband and +seven children to lament her loss. I have strong ties, you see, in these +young people, to bind me to this country, for they look up to me as they +do to their father. But they are without female protection." + +"If, my dear sir, I can be of any service to you or them for a term of +years, I shall feel it part of the happiness of that freedom you have +obtained for me to abide as long in this land. But I own that I still +feel that I should like to return one day to England. I am very grateful +for all your goodness, and shall ever bless you for the interest you +have taken in one so unworthy your favour." + +"Margaret, I am deeply interested in these children. They have lost +their mother, my sister. Their aunt, now resident in the colony, has ten +children of her own, and it would not be fair that she should take seven +more into her house. The young man, now left a widower, is in such a +delicate state of health, and so disconsolate for the loss of his wife, +that I do not think he will be long amongst us. These circumstances made +me come to my good friend Mrs. Palmer for assistance and advice. Guess, +then, my astonishment to hear you recommended to me: you, above all +people in the world, whose presence I could have wished for, whose +gentleness I know, and who, if you will, can make both myself and all +these children happy." + +"My dear sir, I stand in a very different position with regard to +yourself to what I formerly did. I do not forget that to your protecting +arm I owe the rescue of my life from the violence of one in whom my +misplaced confidence became my ruin and his own death. I never can +forget that to you I am a second time indebted for liberty, and that +which will sweeten the remainder of my days: the consciousness of being +restored, a pardoned penitent, to virtuous society. But I cannot forget +that I am still but little better than a slave: I am scarcely yet free. +I am not, as I was when you first offered me your hand and heart, upon +an equality with yourself. How then can you ask me to become your wife, +when there is such a disparity as must ever make me feel your slave? No, +generous and good man! I told you formerly that if Laud were dead I +might then find it in my heart to listen to your claims; but I never +thought that I should be in a situation so much beneath you as I am, so +very different to that which I once occupied." + +"And do you think, Margaret, that I can ever forget that I was a +fellow-servant with you at the Priory Farm, upon the banks of the +Orwell? It was then I first made known to you the state of that heart +which, as I told you long ago, would never change towards you. You say +that our conditions are so very dissimilar: I see no great difference in +them; certainly no greater than when you lived at the cottage on the +heath and I was the miller's son. You are independent now. Your good +friend, Mrs. Palmer, has made you so, and will permit me to say, that +you have already an independence in this country far greater than ever +you could enjoy in England." + +Margaret looked at Mrs. Palmer. That good woman at once confessed that +all the rent that Margaret had paid for the years she had been in the +farm was now placed in the Sydney bank, to her account, and quite at her +disposal. She added, that she had made over the estate she occupied at +Richmond Hill to her for ever. + +What could Margaret now say? She found herself on the one hand made +free, through the intercession of a man who loved her, and on the other +she was made independent for life by a lady who had only known her in +her captivity, but who had respected and esteemed her. That lady now +thought it time to speak out. + +"Margaret, do not think that I have given you anything more than what +you are strictly entitled to. Remember that, from a sense of justice +towards me, you refused the hand of a man who probably would have +settled all the estate upon you. But you chose to think yourself +unworthy of my kindness had you accepted his offer. You acted with great +discretion; and in settling this small portion upon you, I was guided by +a sense of justice and gratitude, which made me anxious to discharge a +just debt, and I do not consider that I have even given you as much as I +ought to have done." + +"Indeed, you have, dear lady, and you have bound me to you for ever. +Have I, indeed, such dear friends in this country? Then do I feel it my +duty to remain in it, and I will learn to sigh no longer after that +place where I had so long hoped to live and die. You give me, however, +more credit for refusing the hand of Mr. Poinder than I deserve: I never +could have married a man who, in such an imperious manner, gave me to +understand his will. No; I was his servant, but not his slave. And any +woman who would obey the nod of a tyrant, to become his wife, could +never expect to enjoy any self-estimation afterwards. He told me his +intention of making me his wife in such an absolute way that I quite as +absolutely rejected him. I deserve no credit for this." + +"Margaret," said Mr. Barry, "understand the offer I now make you. If you +are not totally indifferent to all mankind, and can accept the offer of +one whose earliest affections you commanded, then know that those +affections are as honest, and true, and faithful to you this day, as +they were when I first addressed you. Think me not so ungenerous as ever +to appeal to any sense of gratitude on your part. You cannot conceive +what unspeakable pleasure I have always thought it to serve you in any +way I might. You cannot tell how dead I have been to every hope but +that of being enabled to do good to others. This has been my purest +solace under your loss, Margaret; and if in daily remembrance of you I +have done thus much, what will not your presence always urge me to +perform? + +"I sought a servant, a confidential kind of friend, to govern my +brother's household: I little thought that I should find the only person +I ever could or would make my wife. I offer you, then, myself and all my +possessions. I am willing to make over all I have, upon the contract +that you become the aunt of those dear children, and I know you too well +ever to doubt your kindness to them. + +"As to your respectability, I have already declared to the governor my +full intention of offering you this hand. He has promised to recognize +you as my wife. Your friend here will not like you the less because you +are so nearly allied to me; and I will answer for all my relatives and +friends. None will ever scorn you, all will respect you, I will love +you. Say, then, will you live my respected wife at Windsor Lodge, or +will you still live alone at Richmond Hill?" + +"It is you must choose," replied Margaret; "I cannot refuse. I never can +doubt you. I will endeavour to fulfil the station of a mother in that of +an aunt; and if my heart does not deceive me, I shall do my duty as an +honest wife." + +After this explanation, it is needless, perhaps, to add that Margaret +Catchpole changed her name, and became the much-respected and beloved +wife of John Barry, Esq., of Windsor, by the Green Hills of Hawkesbury. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 11: The specimens in question may be seen distinguished by a +label attached to them with the following words:-- + + "MANURA SUPERBA. + "LYRA, OR BOTANY BAY PHEASANT. + +"These beautiful birds were sent to the late Mrs. Cobbold, of the Cliff, +by Margaret Catchpole, a female servant, who stole a coach-horse from +the late John Cobbold, Esq., and rode it up to London in one night. She +was in the act of selling the horse when she was taken. She was in man's +apparel. She was tried at Bury in 1797, and received sentence of death, +which sentence, owing to the entreaties of the prosecutor, was changed +to seven years' transportation; but breaking out of gaol, she was +afterwards transported for life. + +"Presented to this Museum by R. K. Cobbold, Esq."] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +CONCLUSION + + +If true love and constancy are noble qualities in the heart of man, and +prompt him to deeds of generous philanthropy, they deserve to be +recorded and imitated from the example of John Barry. And if sincerity +and repentance be qualities worthy the charitable consideration of good +Christians, Margaret Catchpole's career in this life, and especially her +latter days, will not afford a bad example of the promise of "the life +that now is, and of that which is to come." The remaining history of +this singular individual was one of quiet calm, and yet benevolent +exertion in all good works of faith and love. She lived highly respected +in the situation to which her husband's good qualities and good fortune +had raised her. She lived a retired, though not a secluded life, on the +banks of the Hawkesbury, fulfilling the duties of her station as a good +wife, aunt, sister, and mother, in an exemplary manner. Charitable as +she was rich, she never thought she could do enough to relieve the +distresses of others. + +Not many months after her marriage she received another chest of goods +from her benevolent mistress in England, and wrote her last epistle of +thanks, dated + + "WINDSOR, HAWKESBURY, June 25th, 1812. + + "MY DEAR MADAM, + + "The contents of this letter will surprise you. I hope that I am + not the less grateful for your goodness because God has blessed me + with such abundance, that I no longer require that aid from England + which has hitherto been such a blessing to me. Indeed, my dearest + madam, my good and early friend, I am most grateful for all your + past favours, though I do not wish to tax a generosity which I do + not now, in the same manner, need. May Heaven bless your warm + heart, which will glow with fervent praise to God when you read + this letter from your former poor servant! + + "Everything that I could wish for, and, oh! how much more than I + deserve, have I had granted to me in this place of probation! God + grant I may not set my heart too much upon their value! Dearest + lady, I have men-servants and maid-servants, horses and cattle, + flocks and herds in abundance. I have clothing and furniture above + what you can imagine, and a house wide enough to entertain in it + all your numerous family. But, more than all this, I have an + excellent husband, one whose constancy from his youth has been + beyond the praise which I could find language to express. + + "You may remember what I once told you of a young man whom I had + rejected for a less worthy one. He has proved his love for me in + such a manner as I am sure could never have been seen in any but + the most noble of his nature. He told me in England that he would + never marry any other, and through years of industry and prosperity + (and as I have every reason to believe he would have done to the + last day of this life) has kept himself single on my account. Did + you ever chance to hear of such a case as this? When I reflect upon + it, as I often do, I find it more and more wonderful. + + "You must remember my telling you of Mr. John Barry's attachment to + me. He left me when I lived at Nacton, and came out here among the + earliest free settlers in the country, and has prospered beyond his + utmost anticipations. He found me out here by accidental inquiries + of my dear Mrs. Palmer, and obtained for me my free pardon. My + wishes to return again to my native land became absorbed in the + sense of duty and obligation to my benefactor, who, when he had + obtained that pardon, gave me the option of sharing my life and + freedom with him, or of being independent here or elsewhere. Noble + generosity! Does it not win your heart? It won mine. I am his + faithful wife: happy, happy, as the days are long. He is good, + virtuous, amiable, and truly religious; constant in his love to God + and man. I could fill many letters in speaking of his virtues; but + I forget that you never saw him, though he lived upon the shores of + the same river that you do. + + "He is very good to me, so that I want nothing more from England. + How proud shall I be to send you now anything which this country + produces! + + "Herewith I send you a sketch of my present beautiful abode, done + by Mrs. Palmer. It will give you a slight idea of my situation. I + send you also a present of various seeds, skins of animals (one of + the ursine opossum), and dried plants, which I think will be + valuable to you; and also some curious weapons and instruments of + the natives, for my dear friend, Dr. Stebbing. + + "What a wonderful life has mine been! You only, my dear lady, know + its reality. There may be others equally eventful; but how few are + there who find such a place of unmerited repose as I have? My dear + sister's words often recur to my mind when she told me whom I + should not marry: I wonder if she ever thought of the one I have + married. There are many very excellent people in this flourishing + country. The governor and his family have received us, and have + been very kind to me. My dear friend, Mrs. Palmer, is now staying + in my house. She is my benefactress here, as you were in England. + Oh! if I could but bring you both together, and could sit quietly + listening to your conversation, it would be such an intellectual + treat as few could more enjoy! She is, like yourself, very clever. + I believe I should die happier if I could see your dear, loved face + in this land; but if that never may be, nor I see old England + again, then may Heaven bless you; and God bestow His brightest + gifts of grace upon you and your children! + + "I am this moment engaged, and lay down my pen to give directions + concerning the work in that most interesting of all female + employments, preparing for the coming of a family of my own. Mrs. + Palmer, who sees me writing these words, says, 'How astonished you + will be!' You will rejoice in my happiness. I know you will. + Forgive, dear lady, all my errors, both of the weakness of my head + and heart. Give my love to all my dear friends. Any person coming + to this country, with a recommendation from you to me, will find + the warmest reception. In justice to my husband, I would forget + what I have been, and I speak seldom of my past errors, though, + before God, I never cease to lament and repent of them; and did I + not know who 'died for the ungodly,' my grief for the past would be + without consolation. Blessed faith, that teaches the contrite how + to be comforted! Who can value Thee as he ought in this struggling + state! + + "I can add but a few more words, and I do so with tears and + trembling. It is not from pride of heart. Dear lady, you must judge + of its propriety. I am likely to increase my family; and I would + conceal from them, in future years, their mother's early history, + at least those parts which are so unworthy to be mentioned. But I + feel that my maiden name cannot be forgotten in your neighbourhood. + Hundreds will speak of it when you and I shall be no more. Oh that + it could be represented to the world in its proper light, as a + warning to that portion of my countrywomen to which I belonged, + that they never give way to their headstrong passions, lest they + fall as I did! But 'the tender mercies of God are over all His + works,' and I can never magnify that mercy too much, as it has been + shown to me. + + "If, dear lady, as years increase, our correspondence should not be + so frequent, because of my altered situation in this country, do + not think me proud. Your feelings as a mother will point to the + nature of my own. You would not have your children know your + faults. Pardon this, perhaps, my greatest weakness. + + "Should you ever think fit, as you once hinted in your letter to + me, to write my history, or should leave it to others to publish, + you have my free permission at my decease, whenever that shall + take place, so to do. But let my husband's name be concealed. + Change it, change it to any other; not for his sake, for it is + worthy to be written in golden characters, but for mine and my + children's sake! And now, dear lady, farewell. God's peace be with + you! and ever think of me as + + "Your grateful and affectionate servant, + "MARGARET BARRY." + +So ends the correspondence of Margaret with her mistress. That lady +wrote one more letter to her, assuring her of her joy and thankfulness +at her providential settlement in the land of her adoption. She told her +that she had kept the early facts of her history in such order, that on +some future day they might perhaps be published, but that her wishes +should be strictly attended to, and her parental anxieties respected. +She took an affectionate leave of her in that last letter, promising not +to intrude anything of past obligation upon her notice, but leaving it +entirely to her own heart to recognize any friends of hers, from the +county of Suffolk, who might, either in military, naval, or civil +capacity, go out to Sydney. How delicately those wishes were observed, +some can well remember. + +Margaret Barry lived many years at Windsor, greatly respected and +beloved. She had one son and two daughters, who received the best +education which England could afford, and returned to settle in their +native land. Among the foremost for intelligence, benevolence, activity, +and philanthropy, is the distinguished son of Margaret; and in the +future history of Australia he will bear no unimportant share in her +celebrity and greatness. The daughters are amiable and accomplished, and +have married gentlemen of the first respectability in the country. + +After fifteen years of the tenderest and most uninterrupted domestic +comfort, Margaret had the severe affliction to undergo of losing her +devoted and excellent husband, who died September 9th, 1827, leaving the +bulk of his property at her disposal. She removed to Sydney in 1828, +where she was conspicuous only for the mildness of her manners, and the +unostentatious character of her habits of life. + +She had a great desire that her son should settle in her native county +of Suffolk, and he came over to this country with that view; and when +the sale of Kentwell Hall took place, he was nearly the last bidder for +it. His resolution, however, seemed to fail him at the last moment, and +he did not become the purchaser of the estate. He stayed a year in +England, and then returned, with a determination not to settle in any +other country than his native one. He returned to close the eyes of his +affectionate parent, who died September 10th, 1841, in the sixty-eighth +year of her age. + + + + +SUPPLEMENT + +BY THE AUTHOR + +A. D. 1858 + + +Since the first publication of the _Life of Margaret Catchpole_, many +have been the correspondents who have addressed the author upon the +subject of her life and character. Many have been the inquiries made +concerning her, and many things, which the author never heard of her, +have since come to light. They would fill a volume. The author has no +intention of inflicting any further pain upon the sensitive minds of +some, who, in writing to him, have quite overlooked the idea that he, +the author, had any sensitiveness whatsoever. He has no intention of +reviving any feeling of the past, respecting what may or may not be mere +local descriptive scenic representation; but there are certain moral +representations which the author gave, both of her early respectability +and character, which he deems it but a mere act of common justice to her +memory to substantiate, and thus furnish the only defence which can ever +be in his power to make against those who accused him of wilful +misrepresentation. Though all the documents relating to this +extraordinary female are duly filed and preserved,--and her own letters +in her own handwriting have been transmitted for inspection to several +inquirers,--there are some facts which may be interesting as proof +positive of the assertions contained in the narrative. To a few of such +the author now refers the reader. + +The first is a letter from the Reverend William Tilney Spurdens, +formerly head-master of the Grammar School at North Walsham, Norfolk; a +celebrated scholar, the translator of Longinus, the early and beloved +tutor and friend of the author. This gentleman had an uncle at +Brandiston in Suffolk, with whom he used to stay, and to that uncle and +to Peggy's aunt he refers in this letter. + + "NORTH WALSHAM, 30th Oct. 1846. + + "MY DEAR FRIEND, + + "I cannot delay to put you in possession of my '_love-passages_' + with your heroine, albeit, at this present writing, suffering much + pain from asthma and chronic bronchitis, which are both aggravated + by our foggy air for some days past. + + "In my early childhood I had an uncle, an aged widower with no + family, who did me the favour of being very fond of me. He had one + domestic in his house, and another out of it, the former a female, + the latter a male. The former rejoiced in the name of Nanny, I + suppose there was another postfixed to it, but of this I am not + cognizant: but Nanny had a niece, or cousin, or something of the + kind, named _Peggy Catchpole_; and whenever the old uncle's + favourite paid him a visit, the maid's paid a visit to her, + '_for_,' as Nanny used to say, '_it was so comfortable for the + children, like; and the little dears helped to amuse one another_;' + and so it was that Peg and I walked together, played together, and + slept together. + + "I wish I could give you dates, which are the sinews of history, + you know. There is one event which my mind connects very exactly + with this period, and which will afford you one date. Peggy and her + young swain were going on philandering at supper, at the time of + the loss of the _Royal George_, at Spithead. The newspaper came in + while my good relative was playing a hit at backgammon with his + neighbour, the doctor, as was their frequent practice; and by dint + of spelling, and a lift or two over hard words, I read to them the + mournful narrative. For this I received sixpence, and laid it out + in figs, of which Peg and her swain each ate so many as to make + themselves ill. + + "Now all this would unquestionably have been forgotten, had it not + been made fresh in the memory from Peggy's subsequent career. + Whilst she was in Ipswich Gaol I made interest with the personage, + then usually called '_Old Rip_,' to see her, intending to give her + money. I must then have been a young man. She, however, would not + know anything of me--in fact, '_cut me_:' and so I kept my money. + But I afterwards learned that Ripshaw would not have permitted it + to be given! '_And that's all._' + + "I am afraid that, with all the exuberance of your imagination, you + would be puzzled to concoct a chapter out of this. + + "I am beginning to long for our young friend's visit in order to + [] my introduction to your other heroine. + + "Meanwhile I am, + "My dear Sir, + "Yours very truly, + "W. T. SPURDENS." + +There is no need to concoct a chapter out of this letter. It is the +genuine offering of a kind heart and clear head, and sufficiently +explains the purpose in view; viz. that Margaret was regarded in her +early career with respect and pure affection, by one who sought to +relieve her in her distress, and in a day of degradation and adversity +owned her as his early playmate, and would have ministered to her +necessity. Both, I trust, are now awaiting that final day when the cup +of cold water, given with a good heart for Christ's sake, shall meet +with a blessed reward. + +The second letter is from a gentleman in Lincolnshire, a solicitor and +banker, and speaks to the career of that brother Edward who is mentioned +in the narrative. + + "ALFORD, LINCOLNSHIRE, 10th Dec. 1846. + + "SIR, + + "I have lately read the _Life of Margaret Catchpole_, and was + deeply interested in it. Her brother _Edward_ was several years in + the preventive service in this neighbourhood, at + Sutton-in-the-Marsh, about six miles hence, where he died and was + buried a few years ago. + + "I often saw him in his rounds on the sea-coast, and have had + conversations with him. He was rather a tall person, and of stern + manners. I could readily obtain a copy of the inscription on his + grave-stone, which refers to his former residence at Ipswich, and + forward it to you, should you wish it. His widow, who was a Norwich + person, still lives in this neighbourhood. + + "I remain, Sir, + "Your very obedient servant, + "HENRY T. BOURNE. + + "REV. RICH. COBBOLD, + "Wortham Rectory, + "Diss, Norfolk. + + "P.S. Since writing the above I have heard that Mr. Edward + Catchpole became a decidedly religious character for the last few + years of his life, and died a very happy death." + +From the same gentleman is the memoir here inserted of Margaret's +brother Edward, obtained from an authenticated source, the substance of +which is given in a note, page 294. + +"Mr. Edward Catchpole was born near Ipswich in Suffolk, in the year +1778. Of his early days we know but little; he was led to choose a +sea-faring life in preference to any other line of business; he served +an apprenticeship on board a merchant ship. Some time afterwards he +became mate on board the _Argus_ Revenue Cutter, of Harwich. Whilst in +this service, a most interesting circumstance occurred, which deserves +to be noticed. Sept. 18th, 1807, the _Argus_ succeeded in rescuing an +English coal-brig from the _Star_, French privateer. Having put some men +on board the brig, elated with success, they go in pursuit of the +privateer. They soon fall in with her, and a sharp engagement ensues, +and at 10 o'clock at night the captor was captured; they came to close +quarters, and, owing to the great disparity in numbers, the privateer +having eighty-six men, and the cutter only twenty-seven, they were +boarded, overpowered, taken into a French port, and sent to prison. Mr. +C. was about seven years in a French prison. Frequently his expectations +were raised by hopes of liberation, an exchange of prisoners was often +talked of, but still they were kept in bondage and suspense. A +favourable opportunity occurring, he made his escape, and came over to +England. His arrival at home was so sudden and unexpected to his wife, +that he seemed to her almost like one come from the dead. Subsequently +he was appointed chief officer in the Coastguards; his last station was +at Sutton-in-the-Marsh, in the county of Lincoln; there his health +failed, and there he finished his earthly course, and made a good end. +His conversion to God was most satisfactory. In his affliction the Lord +graciously supported him, he had a hope full of immortality, and his end +was peace. He died on the 17th of December, 1836. He changed mortality +for life. He was interred in the churchyard at Sutton, and a stone has +been placed at the head of his grave, with the following inscription: + + IN MEMORY OF + EDWARD CATCHPOLE, + A NATIVE OF IPSWICH, + IN THE COUNTY OF SUFFOLK, + AND LATE CHIEF OFFICER OF THE + COAST GUARD + STATIONED AT THIS PLACE, + WHO DIED DECEMBER THE 17TH, 1836, + AGED 58 YEARS. + +As some correspondents have actually accused the author of producing +before the public a fictitious character, and in terms of unmeasured +reprobation told him plainly that they understood there never was such a +person as Margaret Catchpole in existence, the author here gives a copy +of the document signed by her judge, the Lord Chief Baron Macdonald. +This document was not obtained until after the publication of the work. +The original is preserved in the Corporation Chest at Ipswich. + + Copy of a Certificate from the Right Honourable Lord Chief Baron + Macdonald, to exempt from all parish offices, for having prosecuted + Margaret Catchpole at Bury Assizes, Aug. 11th, 1797. + + "These are to certify, That at the delivery of the Gaol of our Lord + the King, of the County of Suffolk, holden at Bury St. Edmunds, in + the County aforesaid, on Wednesday, the ninth day of August + instant, before me, whose name is hereunto subscribed, and other + his Majesty's Justices, assigned to deliver the aforesaid Gaol of + the Prisoners, therein being Margaret Catchpole, late of the Parish + of St. Margaret, in the Town of Ipswich, in the County aforesaid, + single woman, convicted of feloniously stealing a Gelding, of the + price of twenty pounds, of the goods and chattels of John Cobbold, + on the twenty-third day of May last, at the Parish aforesaid, in + the Town and County aforesaid; and that the said John Cobbold was + the person who did apprehend and take the said Margaret Catchpole, + and did prosecute her, so apprehended and taken, until she was + convicted of the Felony. Therefore, in pursuance of an Act of + Parliament made in the tenth and eleventh years of the reign of his + late Majesty king William the Third, _intituled_, An Act for the + better apprehending, prosecuting, and punishing of felons that + commit burglary, housebreaking, or robbery, in shops, warehouses, + coachhouses, or stables, or that steal horses; I do hereby further + certify, that by virtue hereof and of the said Act of Parliament, + he, the said John Cobbold, shall and may be, and is hereby, + discharged of and from all manner of Parish Offices within the + Parish of St. Margaret, in the Town of Ipswich aforesaid, in the + County aforesaid. + + "In testimony whereof I have hereunto set my hand this eleventh day + of August, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and + ninety-seven. + + "AR. MACDONALD." + +The author now approaches a most painful, and yet he trusts a +pleasurable, duty. Painful, because his own mind and that of others have +been excessively hurt by a misconception of the identity of that +Margaret Catchpole whose life he has written, and pleasurable, because +of the opportunity afforded him of contradicting the fact so often +asserted, that Mrs. Reibey of New Town, Sydney, was the identical +Margaret Catchpole. + +The relatives and friends of that highly-esteemed lady, lately deceased, +will be glad to read a letter from the late Bishop of Australia, written +to one of his clergy, the Rev. H. D. D. Sparling, of Appin, New South +Wales, the good Bishop himself, as well as hundreds of others, having +been deceived in that identity from a strange but very simple mistake, +viz. that of two places bearing the same name in England, though one be +in Suffolk,--Bury, and the other in Lancashire--_Bury_. + +Hence originated the grand mistake concerning _Mrs. Reibey_ who +emigrated from _Bury_ in Lancashire, and Margaret Catchpole, who was +tried at Bury in Suffolk. It appears from original letters in the +possession of the author, and from Mrs. Reibey's herself, that Suffolk +was totally unknown to her. She was very justly hurt at presents being +sent to her, under the idea that she was that poor girl, whose +correspondence and gratitude to her benefactress, the late Mrs. Cobbold +of Holywells, showed her to be honest and exemplary. She was justly +hurt, because therein was the supposition that she had been tried and +convicted as a felon, and was transported for horse-stealing. + +The friends and relatives of Mrs. Reibey, as well as all Christians, +will be glad to read the amiable Bishop's letter; and even the author, +whom it condemns, gives it to the public, because his own heart is in +full accordance with the charity therein breathed; and he is even more +anxious to turn the hearts of that lady's relatives in gratitude to that +spirit and testimony which this good man gives of all the branches of +their respectable family. + +Notwithstanding the remonstrance conveyed in the Bishop's letter, +concerning the publication of the Life of the real Margaret Catchpole, +over which the author had _then_ no more control than he now has, he +cannot help here expressing his gratitude to all those who, viewing the +narrative in the light of truth, and intention on the author's part to +convey a moral and spiritual warning and lesson in an easy and +instructive style, have written to him letters of approbation. + +The Bishop's letter, whilst it will animate the hearts of Mrs. Reibey's +real relatives, will also speak equally kindly to the descendants of the +real Margaret Catchpole, and will be the author's best proof of his +desire to convey the Bishop's love to them along with his own. The +wildest olive, when grafted into the true stem, must be productive of +good fruit. + +Mrs. Reibey, a high-spirited, romantic girl, from the neighbourhood of +Bury in Lancashire, of good family, with friends and relatives of +England's noblest merchants, conceived the idea that she should be +happier in our distant colony than in the Mother Country. She left +England very young, and, like many of her sex, succeeded in proving that +her enterprising spirit was not unrewarded. She lived respected by her +family and friends in England, and although mistaken by the good Bishop +himself, yet noble testimony is borne to the excellence of her +character. She was a clever woman of business, and of a noble +disposition. The author can only hope, that all her relatives and +friends who have written to him will thus accept at his hands the +apology for all the mistakes that have arisen; whilst, at the same time, +he rejoices to keep concealed the name of Margaret's real descendants +until they shall themselves divulge it. + + "SYDNEY, 18th April, 1845. + + "REVEREND SIR, + + "I was very much vexed to learn from your letter of the 15th inst. + the course which it is intended to be taken with reference to the + publication named in the Prospectus which you forwarded, and which + is now returned. My opinion entirely coincides with yours and Mr. + Hossall's as to the inexpediency of such an undertaking. It would + be cruel even to the individual, whoever it may be, to have early + offences thus placed permanently on record as a memorial of shame + and cause of annoyance to her younger and perfectly innocent + connexions. Indeed, if the party meant be the one whom allusions in + your letter lead me to conjecture, they who would suffer in their + feelings are not only innocent, but praiseworthy in a very high + degree for exertions in the cause of religion, and of the Church of + England, scarcely to be paralleled by any instance I have ever + known. The Bishop of Tasmania would regret equally with myself, + perhaps even more, that any pain should be occasioned to parties so + worthy of respect. If my conjecture be right, I happened once to be + in circumstances which placed other members of the same family + (young females just attaining to womanhood) under my close and + special attention, and I can truly testify the impression by me + was, that they were in character and deportment altogether + unexceptionable, and in habits of devotion very exemplary. Others I + know, are regarded by the clergyman of their parish as among the + best instructed and sober-minded of the communicants in his church. + + "My acquaintance with Mr. Cobbold is not such as I think would + justify my taking any step which would so carry the air of + remonstrance as that of my writing to him would. + + "It appears to me that as you have, through various circumstances, + been brought into correspondence with him, it would be more proper + that you should make a statement of the true facts, and of the view + which is taken of his proposal. At the same time, if you think it + would strengthen your case if he were acquainted with my + sentiments, I can have no objection to your communicating them; as + all my statements to you upon the subject have been in accordance + with them, and expressive of my satisfaction at witnessing the + exemplary conduct of the individuals whom I suppose to be alluded + to. + + "I remain, + "Reverend Sir, + "Your very faithful servant, + "W. G. AUSTRALIA. + + "REV. H. D. D. SPARLING, + "Parsonage, Appin." + +Mrs. Reibey is no more, and the author acknowledges the receipt of very +satisfactory letters from her and her relatives, all conveying their +free pardon for any unintentional pain, which might have been given to +an innocent and praiseworthy individual, but assuredly they did not +endure, and never could endure, the pangs which the author himself +received at the very thought of giving pain to others. + +He ever did admire the conduct of his mother towards her erring servant, +believing it to be as magnanimous and Christian-like as that of the +Bishop towards her supposed relatives, and though circumstances +compelled the prosecution in question, and the very prevalence of the +crime at the time made it too notorious to be disregarded,--the years of +intercourse, and passing presents to and fro, between the prosecutor and +the prisoner, made too deep an impression upon the young heart of the +author to be obliterated even in these his old days. + +He cannot help thinking that the removal of the _card_ which was placed +at the foot of the "Manura Superba," the first Lyra Pheasants sent from +that country to England, as a present from Margaret Catchpole to her +mistress, and presented by Mrs. Cobbold's eldest son to the Ipswich +Museum, simply because it stated the fact of her transportation, was, +however kind in intention, a mistake in point of judgement. The object +of all records of crime ought to be taken as warnings to others; though +the simple fact of such birds being sent as a grateful present from a +once poor transport, proves that the heart was not totally devoid of +grace, and that we should ourselves be more glad to see such a noble +token of love, in the days of poverty, than the most splendid monuments +of accumulated wealth. + +One duty only remains for the author, and that is the last and very +simple one of gratitude to the memory of those who loved his mother, as +well as to those living who were subscribers to the monument placed in +the Tower Church, Ipswich, to her memory. That duty is simply to record +the inscription engraved upon it; and the author does so, because, as +years increase, so much the brighter in his mind is the memory of the +talents and virtues of the departed. + + AS A PUBLIC TESTIMONY OF RESPECT + FOR EXALTED TALENTS AND UNWEARIED EXERTION + IN THE CAUSE OF BENEVOLENCE AND CHARITY + THIS MONUMENT IS ERECTED BY THE GENERAL + CONCURRENCE OF AN EXTENSIVE CIRCLE OF FRIENDS + TO THE MEMORY OF + + ELIZABETH COBBOLD + + THE BELOVED WIFE OF JOHN COBBOLD, ESQ. + OF HOLYWELLS + SHE DIED OCTOBER XVII, MDCCCXIV + AGED LIX + +Rectory, Wortham, Oct. 21st, 1858. + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: + +The intent of the corrections listed below is to restore the text to the +author's intent, as best as that can be surmised. Usually, a space is +left where a missing character should have appeared. Spelling varies and +has been retained, with the single exception noted below. + +p. 108 ["]Why he has got" + +p. 150 and be industrious[.] + +p. 171 they treat me scurvily[?/!] + +p. 264 Did you ever see a better shape[?] + +p. 310 the escape of any prisoner from the g[oa/ao]l + +p. 415 in order to [] my introduction: missing word + +p. 417 and came over to England[,/.] + +p. 420 Bishop[s'/'s] + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The History of Margaret Catchpole, by +Richard Cobbold + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORY OF MARGARET CATCHPOLE *** + +***** This file should be named 39326-8.txt or 39326-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/3/2/39326/ + +Produced by Tor Martin Kristiansen, KD Weeks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: The History of Margaret Catchpole + A Suffolk Girl + +Author: Richard Cobbold + +Release Date: April 1, 2012 [EBook #39326] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORY OF MARGARET CATCHPOLE *** + + + + +Produced by Tor Martin Kristiansen, KD Weeks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="transnote"> + <p class="titlepage"><b>Transcriber’s Note</b></p> + +<p>Please visit the Notes at the end of this text for details of any +corrections made during the preparation of this text. The original +Table of Contents appears after the Introduction. +</p> + +</div> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 100%; margin-top: 2em;">The World’s Classics<br /><br /><br /></p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 100%; margin-top: 2em;">CXIX<br /></p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em;">MARGARET CATCHPOLE<br /></p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 70%; margin-top: 2em;">BY<br /></p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 120%; margin-top: 2em;">RICHARD COBBOLD<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 70%; margin-top: 2em;">OXFORD: HORACE HART</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 70%; margin-top: 2em;">PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY<br /><br /><br /></p> +<div class="page" style="height: 657px; width: 400px; text-align:center; + background-image:url(images/border1_image.jpg); + background-repeat:no-repeat; + background-position:center"> +<p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +</p> +<div style="width: 240px; margin-left: 100px;"> +<img src="images/portrait_grey.jpg" width="240" height="259" alt="" title="Margaret Catchpole" /> +</div> +</div> +<p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> +<div class="page" style="height: 657px; width: 400px; text-align:center; + background-image:url(images/border2_image.jpg); + background-repeat:no-repeat; + background-position:center"> +<div> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 120%; margin-top: 2em;">HISTORY OF</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 140%; margin-top: 1em;">MARGARET</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 140%; margin-top: 1em;">CATCHPOLE<br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 70%; margin-top: 2em;">BY</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 100%; margin-top: 2em;">RICHARD COBBOLD</p> +</div> +</div> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 120%; margin-top: 2em;">THE HISTORY OF</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 140%; margin-top: 2em;">MARGARET CATCHPOLE<br /></p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 110%; margin-top: 2em;">A SUFFOLK GIRL<br /></p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%; margin-top: 2em;">BY</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 100%; margin-top: 2em;">RICHARD COBBOLD<br /></p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%; margin-top: 2em;">WITH AN INTRODUCTION</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%; margin-top: 2em;">BY CLEMENT SHORTER</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/logo.jpg" width="150" height="200" alt="" title="logo" /> +</div> + +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%; margin-top: 1em;">HENRY FROWDE</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%; margin-top: 1em;">OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%; margin-top: 1em;">LONDON, NEW YORK, TORONTO AND MELBOURNE<br /><br /><br /><br /></p> +<table width="45%" summary="Cobbold"> +<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">Richard Cobbold</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Born, Ipswich</td><td class="tdr">1797</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Died</td><td class="tdr">January 5, 1877</td></tr> +</table> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><i>‘Margaret Catchpole’ was first published in 1845. In ‘The World’s +Classics’ it was first published in 1907 and reprinted in 1912.</i></p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION">INTRODUCTION</a></h2> + +<p>Three personalities interest us in reading the novel of <i>Margaret +Catchpole</i>—the author, the heroine, and the author’s mother, in whose +service the real Margaret Catchpole was employed. Neither the author nor +his mother has been the subject of much biographical effort, although +Richard Cobbold was an industrious novelist, poet, and essayist for a +long period of years, and wrote this one book that will always, I think, +be read. His mother, Elizabeth Cobbold, made some reputation as a writer +of verse, and is immortalized for us in Charles Dickens’s Mrs. Leo +Hunter. Fortunately we have a sketch of her by one Laetitia Jermyn, +dated 1825, and attached to a volume of <i>Poems</i>, published at Ipswich in +that year.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Laetitia Jermyn tells us that Elizabeth’s maiden name was +Knipe, and that she was born in Watling Street, London, about 1764, her +father being Robert Knipe of Liverpool. In 1787 she published a little +volume of verse entitled <i>Six Narrative Poems</i>, which she dedicated to +Sir Joshua Reynolds, evidently by permission. It is clear that in +girlhood she had made the acquaintance of the great painter. Her +biographer says nothing about her being an actress, but it is a +tradition in Ipswich that this was for a time her profession. In 1790 +she was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> married at Liverpool to William Clarke, a Portman of the +borough and Comptroller of the Customs of Ipswich, who was apparently +about sixty years of age and in very delicate health. The sprightly +young wife wrote the following lines to her husband on St. Valentine’s +Day, soon after their marriage:—</p> + +<div class="poetry width30"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Eliza to William this Valentine sends,<br /></div> +<div class="line">While ev’ry good wish on the present attends;<br /></div> +<div class="line">And freely she writes, undisturb’d by a fear,<br /></div> +<div class="line">Tho’ prudes may look scornful, and libertines sneer.<br /></div> +<div class="line">Tho’ tatlers and tale-bearers smiling may say,<br /></div> +<div class="line">"Your Geniuses always are out of the way,”<br /></div> +<div class="line">Sure none but herself would such levities mix,<br /></div> +<div class="line">With the seriousness suited to grave twenty-six.<br /></div> +<div class="line">A Wife send a Valentine! Lord, what a whim!<br /></div> +<div class="line">And then of all people to send it to him!<br /></div> +<div class="line">Make love to her husband! my stars, how romantic!<br /></div> +<div class="line">The Girl must be certainly foolish or frantic;<br /></div> +<div class="line">But I always have thought so, else what could engage<br /></div> +<div class="line">Her to marry a man who is twice her own age?<br /></div> +<div class="line">While the tabbies are thus on my motives enlarging,<br /></div> +<div class="line">My sentiments William may read in the margin.<br /></div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">On the wings of old Time have three months past away<br /></div> +<div class="line">Since I promis’d ”to honour, to love, and obey,”<br /></div> +<div class="line">And surely my William’s own heart will allow<br /></div> +<div class="line">That my conduct has ne’er disagreed with my vow.<br /></div> +<div class="line">Would health spread her wings round my husband and lord,<br /></div> +<div class="line">To his cheeks could the smiles of delight be restor’d;<br /></div> +<div class="line">The blessing with gratitude I should receive,<br /></div> +<div class="line">As the greatest that Mercy benignant could give;<br /></div> +<div class="line">And heedless of all that conjecture may say,<br /></div> +<div class="line">With praise would remember St. Valentine’s day.<br /></div> +</div></div> + +<p>I quote this valentine at length because it is a fair sample of the +quality of our poet’s efforts. At the end of the eighteenth century, and +far into the nineteenth, a rhyming faculty of this kind was quite +sufficient<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span> to make a literary reputation in an English provincial town, +and in the case of Mrs. Clarke it was followed up by the writing of a +novel, <i>The Sword</i>, published at Liverpool in 1791. It is interesting to +find the name of Roscoe the historian among the subscribers for this +book. In the same year—within six months of her marriage—the writer +lost her husband.</p> + +<p>The interest of Elizabeth Knipe’s life, however, begins for us when very +shortly after this she became the wife of John Cobbold, of the Cliff +Brewery, Ipswich. Cobbold was a widower. He had already had sixteen +children, of whom fourteen were then living. When it is remembered that +by his second wife he had six more children it will be seen that there +was a large family, and it is not surprising therefore that the Cobbold +name is still very much in evidence in Norfolk and Suffolk, and +particularly in Ipswich. “Placed in the bosom of this numerous family”, +writes her biographer, “and indulged in the means of gratifying her +benevolent and liberal spirit, ‘The Cliff’ became the home of her +dearest affections, the residence of taste, and the scene of +hospitality.” One need not complain of the lady that she was not very +much of a poet, for she had otherwise a versatile character. In addition +to being, as we are assured, a good housekeeper, she was, if her +self-portraiture be accepted, a worker in many fields:—</p> + +<div class="poetry width30"> +<div class="line">A botanist one day, or grave antiquarian,<br /></div> +<div class="line">Next morning a sempstress, or abecedarian;<br /></div> +<div class="line">Now making a frock, and now marring a picture,<br /></div> +<div class="line">Next conning a deep, philosophical lecture;<br /></div> +<div class="line">At night at the play, or assisting to kill<br /></div> +<div class="line">The time of the idlers with whist or quadrille;<br /></div> +<div class="line">In cares or amusements still taking a part,<br /></div> +<div class="line">Though science and friendship are nearest my heart.<br /></div> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span></p> + +<p>Laetitia Jermyn tells us much about her charity and kindness of heart, +her zeal in behalf of many movements to help the poor, and she dwells +with enthusiasm upon her friend’s literary achievements.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> But the +scope of this Introduction to her son’s book does not justify devoting +more attention to the mother, although her frequent appearance in +Margaret Catchpole’s partially true story demands that something be said +about her “mistress”. Elizabeth Cobbold died in 1824. Her husband +outlived her for eleven years. John Cobbold (1746-1835) traced back his +family in the direct line as landowners in Suffolk to a Robert Cobbold, +who died in 1603. He was a banker as well as a brewer, and lived first +at “The Cliff” and afterwards at “Holywells”, which has ever since been +the seat of the head of the family. It was the fourteenth child of his +first marriage—Henry Gallant Cobbold—who was saved from drowning by +Margaret Catchpole.</p> + +<p>It was Richard Cobbold, one of the six sons of the second marriage of +John Cobbold, who was the author of this story. When he was born he had +ten nephews and nieces awaiting him, the children of his brothers and +sisters of the first family, and he was at school with his own nephew, +who was just a fortnight younger than himself. The nephew was John +Chevallier Cobbold, who for twenty-one years represented Ipswich in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span> +Parliament. For this information I am indebted to a grandson<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>, who +also sends me the following anecdotes:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>When John Cobbold—the father of twenty-two children—was +High Sheriff, he once persuaded the Judge to come to dine with him on +condition that there should be no one to meet him except his (J. C.’s) +own family. When the Judge was shown into a drawing-room full of people, +he was very angry, and said loudly before the company, “Mr. Cobbold, you +have deceived me.” Explanations followed, and the Judge was introduced +to the various members of the family. </p> + +<p>Elizabeth Cobbold was in the habit of saying that when she married her +husband she found no books in the house except Bibles and account-books.</p> + +<p>Brewing was such good business in those days that John Cobbold was able +to give to each of his two youngest sons (twenty-first and twenty-second +children) a University education, and to buy for each of them a church +living worth £1,000 a year.</p> +</div> + +<p>Richard Cobbold was educated at Bury St. Edmunds and at Caius College, +Cambridge, was destined for the Church, and when he married he was a +curate in Ipswich<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a>, but his father obtained for him the living of +Wortham, near Diss, where he was Rector from 1825 until his death in +1877. He was also rural dean of Hartismere. Several years after +celebrating his golden wedding—Dr. Spencer Cobbold informs me—he and +his wife died within a day or two of each other; the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span>survivor did not know the other was gone; both were buried at the same +time. Of the three sons who survived, one became Rector of Hollesley, +another was the father of the well-known amateur footballer, W. N. +Cobbold, and the third was the Fellow of the Royal Society, to whom I +have already referred, and to whose son I am indebted for so many +interesting facts.</p> + +<p>That Richard Cobbold was not particularly honoured in his own country +may be gathered from many quarters. One writer speaks of his “little +vanities, his amusing egotisms, and his good natured pomposity”. It was +clearly not Suffolk that helped to make his fame, if we may accept one +of the few printed references to him that I have been able to find:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +I confess I never knew a Suffolk man at home or abroad who would take +any pride in being the fellow countryman of this clerical novel-writer; +but in different parts of England I have seen reason to believe that our +division of the eastern counties has a place in the minds of many +thousands of people only by reason of the Rev. Richard Cobbold and his +works, that the ancient town of Ipswich, which we hail from as if it +were a niche in the temple of fame, has never been heard of except as +the scene of some of the chief adventures of Margaret Catchpole.<a +name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> +</div> + +<p>Other books are assigned to our author in the catalogues, but I doubt if +one of them survives other than <i>Margaret Catchpole</i>, which not only +survives, but is really a classic in its way. One story, indeed, +<i>Freston Tower</i>, held the public for a time almost as well as the +present book, but I imagine it has ceased<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span> to command the attention even +of the most remote village library, where indeed it was long ago worn +threadbare.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> Essentially our author is a man of one book, and many +adventitious circumstances helped him here. It was no small thing that +the heroine should actually have been a native of the very district in +which the writer lived. She was not merely a vivid tradition of his +boyhood, but had been in the service of his mother and had stolen from +his father the horse that gave her so unpleasant a noto<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a></span>riety. Here was +a romance ready to hand, which needed but to be set down in passably +good writing to attract attention. It might have been worse written than +it was by this worthy clergyman and would still have secured readers. +How much is truth and how much is fiction in the story will never be +known. If Mr. Cobbold had an abundance of documents about this girl +Margaret Catchpole and her affairs, inherited from his parents, he must +have destroyed them. He claims in the course of the story that, as +Margaret three times saved the life of a member of Mr. Cobbold’s family, +it is not surprising that the records of her life should be so strictly +preserved among them. But these records do not appear to exist any +longer. It is doubtful if they ever did exist. The author probably +worked from family traditions rather than from documents. He possessed, +in addition, a genuine imaginative faculty.</p> + +<p>Such documents as do exist do not amount to enough to justify the +author’s declaration that here is “a perfectly true narrative". Mr. +Frank Woolnough, of Ipswich<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a>, courteously informs me that a letter by +Margaret Catchpole, written only a few days before she sailed to +Australia, and the lyre bird that she sent to her mistress about a year +after her arrival, are the two curiosities of the Museum most eagerly +inquired after by strangers. Here is the letter in question:—</p> + + +<table class="signature30" summary="sig"> +<tr><td class="tdc">ipswich May 25th 1801</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc">honred madam</td></tr> +</table> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>i am sorrey i have to inform you this Bad newes that i am going +away on wedensday next or thursday at the Longest so i hav taken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span> +the Liberty my good Ladey of trobling you with a few Lines as it +will Be the Larst time i ever shall trobell you in this sorrofoll +Confinement my sorrows are very grat to think i must Be Banished +out of my owen Countreay and from all my Dearest friendes for ever +it is very hard inded for any one to think on it and much moor for +me to enduer the hardship of it honred madam i should Be very +happey to see you on tuesday Befor i Leve englent if it is not to +much trobbell for you for i am in grat confushon my self now my +sorrowes are dobbled i must humbly Beg on your Goodness to Consider +me a Littell trifell of monney it wold Be a very Grat Comfort to +your poor</p> +</div> + +<table class="signature30" summary="sig"> +<tr><td class="tdl">unhappy searvent</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">Margreat Catchpole</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>How small a matter a sentence of death for horse-stealing was counted in +the closing years of the eighteenth century may be gathered from the +fact that the contemporary newspaper report of 1797 runs only to five +lines, as follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"Margaret Catchpole, for stealing a coach horse, belonging to John +Cobbold, Esq., of Ipswich (with whom she formerly lived as a +servant), which she rode from thence to London in about 10 hours, +dressed in man’s apparel, and having there offered it for sale was +detected.” +</div> + +<p>Undoubtedly one of the characteristics of the book that give it so +permanent a place in literature is the circumstance that it preserves +for us a glimpse of the cruel criminal law of the eighteenth century. +Hanging for small offences went on for years after this, until, indeed, +public opinion was revolted by the case of the young married woman who +in Ludgate Hill lifted a piece of cloth from the counter. She hesitated +and then put it down again. But she had been seen, and was arrested, +tried, condemned, and hanged, although it was clearly proved that her +husband had been seized<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</a></span> by a press-gang and that her babe cried for +bread. After this time came a reaction against the death penalty for +theft. Margaret, then, was more fortunate than that unhappy woman and +than the more celebrated Deacon Brodie, who was hanged in Edinburgh, the +city which he had adorned as a Councillor, for a house-breaking theft +which brought him four pounds or less. She doubtless owed her escape to +the powerful influence of the Cobbolds.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p> + +<p><i>Margaret Catchpole</i> is the classic novel of Suffolk. That county of +soothing landscape and bracing sea has produced greater books; it has +given us more interesting authors than Richard Cobbold. Within its +borders were written the many fine poems of George Crabbe, the many +attractive letters of Edward Fitz Gerald. The remarkable paraphrase from +the Persian known to all the English speaking world as <i>The Rubáiyát of +Omar Khayyám</i> was composed here. But, although many latter-day novelists +have laid their scenes in these pleasant places, made memorable by the +art of Constable, not one has secured so fascinating a topic or so +world-wide an audience. Margaret Catchpole is one of the few heroines of +fiction of whom one loves to remember that she was real flesh and blood.</p> + +<table class="signature30" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>CLEMENT SHORTER.</td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</a></h2> + +<table width="70%" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="TOC"> +<col width="10%"/> <col width="85%"/> <col width="5%"/> +<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td class="tdr"><span style="font-size:80%">PAGE</span></td></tr> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td><a class="chaptitle" href="#DEDICATION"><span class="smcap">Dedication</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#DEDICATION">xvii</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td><a class="chaptitle" href="#AUTHORS_PREFACE"><span class="smcap">Author’s Preface</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#AUTHORS_PREFACE">xix</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl" colspan="2"><span style="font-size:80%">CHAPTER</span></td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_I"><span class="smcap">Early Scenes</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_II"><span class="smcap">The Temptation</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">26</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_III"><span class="smcap">Misfortunes</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">34</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_IV"><span class="smcap">Deceit</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">47</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_V"><span class="smcap">Wild Scenes</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">56</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">VI.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_VI"><span class="smcap">Harvest-Home</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">71</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">VII.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_VII"><span class="smcap">The Conflict</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">83</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">VIII.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><span class="smcap">Disappointment</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">100</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">IX.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_IX"><span class="smcap">Evil Ways</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">115</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">X.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_X"><span class="smcap">The Parting</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">120</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XI.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XI"><span class="smcap">The Last Interview</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">131</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XII.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XII"><span class="smcap">The Welcome Visit</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">137</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XIII.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><span class="smcap">Poverty and Pride</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">152</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XIV.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><span class="smcap">A Cheerful Change</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">166</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XV.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XV"><span class="smcap">The New Place</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">175</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XVI.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><span class="smcap">Bright Hopes</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">187</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XVII.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><span class="smcap">Altercation and Explanation</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">191</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">[Pg xvi]</a></span></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XVIII.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><span class="smcap">The Reconciliation</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">197</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XIX.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><span class="smcap">The Alteration</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">206</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XX.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XX"><span class="smcap">Change of Scene and Change of Place</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">219</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XXI.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><span class="smcap">Guilt and Crime</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">244</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XXII.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><span class="smcap">Preparation for Trial</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">268</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XXIII.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XXIII"><span class="smcap">Trial and Condemnation to Death</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">277</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XXIV.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XXIV"><span class="smcap">The Reprieve and Removal</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">290</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XXV.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XXV"><span class="smcap">The Escape</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">297</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XXVI.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XXVI"><span class="smcap">Pursuit and Capture</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">309</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XXVII.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XXVII"><span class="smcap">Second Trial, and Second Time Condemned to Death</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">317</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XXVIII.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII"><span class="smcap">Transportation</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">338</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XXIX.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XXIX"><span class="smcap">Banishment</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">351</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XXX.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XXX"><span class="smcap">Repentance and Amendment</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">370</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXI.</td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#CHAPTER_XXXI"><span class="smcap">Conclusion</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">407</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="pad2"><a class="chaptitle" href="#SUPPLEMENT"><span class="smcap">Supplement by the Author, <span class="fakesc">A.D.</span> 1858</span></a></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#SUPPLEMENT">413</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[Pg xvii]</a></span></p> +<p class="titlepage"><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<a name="DEDICATION" id="DEDICATION"><b>TO</b></a><br /> +<b>THE MARCHIONESS OF CORNWALLIS</b><br /></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><span class="smcap">Most Noble Lady</span>,</p> + +<p>Assured that this simple narrative, the most remarkable events of +which are still fresh in your Ladyship’s memory, will be found far +more interesting to the public than many highly-wrought works of +fiction, and that to none will it prove more acceptable than to +your Ladyship, who for many years resided in this county, beloved +and respected by all who knew you, for the encouragement you +afforded to every amiable virtue; to you it is dedicated, with +sincere respect, by your Ladyship’s humble and devoted servant,</p> + +<table class="signature30" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>RICHARD COBBOLD.</td></tr> +</table> +<p><i>Rectory, Wortham, near Diss, Suffolk.</i></p> +</div> +<hr class="chap" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[Pg xviii]</a></span></p> + + +<h2><a name="AUTHORS_PREFACE" id="AUTHORS_PREFACE">AUTHOR’S PREFACE</a></h2> + +<p>Independently of this simple history being a relation of facts, well +known to many persons of the highest respectability still living in the +county of Suffolk, it is hoped that an instructive lesson may be +conveyed by it to many, who may not yet have seen the necessity of early +and religious instruction.</p> + +<p>These pages will prove, in a remarkable manner, that, however great may +be the natural endowments of the human mind, yet, without the culture of +religious principles, and the constant discipline of the Holy Spirit, +they will never enable their possessor to resist the temptations of +passion, but will be as likely to lead to great crimes as to great +virtues.</p> + +<p>It will be seen that, from the want alone of the early impressions of +religion, the heroine of these pages fell into errors of temper and +passion, which led to the violation of the laws of God and man; but +that, after the inculcation of Christian faith and virtue, she became +conspicuous for the sincerity of her reformation and for an exemplary +life: that, though it pleased God to grant her ‘a place of repentance’, +yet it was through such bitter sorrows and sufferings of mind and body +as she most devoutly desired others might be spared.</p> + +<p>The public may depend upon the truth of the main<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xx" id="Page_xx">[Pg xx]</a></span> features of this +narrative: indeed, most of the facts recorded were matters of public +notoriety at the time of their occurrence. The author who here details +them is a son of the lady with whom this extraordinary female lived, and +from whose hands he received the letters and the facts here given. He is +persuaded that much will be found in the history of Margaret Catchpole +highly worthy of praise and imitation; and, if that which is unworthy +shall only be taken as a warning example, he humbly hopes that the +public will be both gratified and benefited by the publication.</p> + +<p><i>Rectory, Wortham.</i></p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size:140%"><b>THE HISTORY<br />OF<br />MARGARET CATCHPOLE</b></p> +<hr class="chap" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br /><span style="font-size:70%">EARLY SCENES</span></a></h2> + +<p>The heroine of this romantic but perfectly true narrative was born in +the year 1773. There was a large tract of extra-parochial land toward +the north of the bounds of the parish of Nacton, Suffolk, reaching from +Rushmere Heath down to the banks of the beautiful river Orwell. This +tract was known by the name of Wolfkettel, and commenced at the Seven +Hills, and terminated on the south side of Alneshbourne Priory.</p> + +<p>The spot called the Seven Hills, though originally there were sixteen, +was, in all probability, the site of the famous battle of Arwell, fought +between the Earl of Ulfketel and the Danes, in <span class="fakesc">A.D.</span> 1010. It was a wild +waste, and a great part of it to this day remains much in the same +state, fit only for sheepwalks or a warren, or as a preserve for game. +The tract lying nearest to the Orwell was very early brought into +cultivation; and at the time this narrative commences, was famous for +the production of the best barley in the county. In a cottage on these +lands lived Jonathan Catchpole, an industrious labourer, and father of +six children, of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> whom Margaret was the second daughter, and youngest +child but one.</p> + +<p>The farm upon which the father and his sons worked was then held by Mr. +Denton, who was well known for his famous Suffolk cart-horses—strong +bone, short joints, clean legs, stout chests, high crests, light +chestnut, with silvery manes, and tails that ought to have swept the +ground, but for a barbarous custom of docking them at that period, one +of the most insane fashions of the day.</p> + +<p>Jonathan Catchpole had a team of these horses to look after, and was the +head ploughman on the estate. His boys were engaged in various parts of +the farm.</p> + +<p>The youngest daughter was made a sort of pet by the rest of the family; +and, as the eldest girl was always of a sickly constitution, it fell to +the lot of Margaret to carry her father’s and brothers’ meals to them in +the field.</p> + +<p>Who has not seen the healthy face of childhood in those ever interesting +years when activity commences? And what philanthropist, delighting in +scenes of genuine simplicity and nature, could fail to admire the ruddy +glow of youth, and the elastic step of confidence, with which the young +female peasant bounds to meet a parent or a brother, at the welcome hour +of noon, bearing the frugal dinner of bread and cheese, or it may +sometimes chance to be bread and pork?</p> + +<p>The child becomes of some consequence, entrusted with the basket of +provision; and, as she stands against the bank of the hedgerow, watching +the progressive march of the horses as they come toward her, drawing the +plough and turning over the soil, guided as they are by the steady hand +of her father, she presents a picture worthy of observation.</p> + +<p>On these occasions, Margaret was as punctual to her hour as the sun. On +reaching the field she would set her basket down and jump into her +father’s arms, and kiss his warm forehead, and receive in return a +reward, which even in infancy gave her the utmost delight, viz. a seat +upon one of the horses’ backs, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> there she would remain until she was +taken off by the same hands which placed her there, and gave her the +empty basket to carry home.</p> + +<p>“May I come in the evening, father?” she used to say, as she looked +wistfully round the horizon, to see if any appearance of rain forebode +an unfavourable answer; for this request “to come in the evening” +contained an imaginative delight, exceeding in its kind the prospect of +the fox hunter for a coming run. For Margaret, when she did “come in the +evening,$” used to have the privilege of riding home one of the +plough-horses.</p> + +<p>This was a singular <i>penchant</i> for a female child to imbibe, but with it +mingled the pleasure of her father’s and brothers’ smiles; and this, +after a day of toil, seemed to give elasticity to their spirits, and +formed an agreeable change to the unvarying monotony of ploughing +straight lines, the clinking of chains, and their rural “<i>wooah come +ather, woree, wooo, jeh!</i>" sounds as unintelligible to some readers as +the language of the savages of the Caribbee islands, when first +discovered.</p> + +<p>Sometimes the crack of the whip would make the horses start, and the +young men, her brothers, who would try to frighten their sister, found, +instead of so doing, that it only increased the pleasure of her ride. At +length, she began to trot the leading horse home.</p> + +<p>After a time, this privilege was extended to riding the farm-horses down +to water; and this appears to have been the very summit of Margaret’s +delight. She used to take her brother’s whip in her tiny hand, drive the +whole team before her into the water, keep them in order while there, +and then drive them out again, up the sandy lane, into the stable-yard.</p> + +<p>It is well known that at such times it is no easy task to sit a +cart-horse; for they will kick, and plunge, and exhibit that rough kind +of amusement known by the name of “horse-play,” which has as much of +shrieking and biting as it has of gambolling in it.</p> + +<p>In going out to, and coming home from, water,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> horses accustomed to the +heaviest labour, if at all well fed, will exhibit no mean share of this +species of spirit; and woe be to the lad without a whip in his hand, or +who has not a very steady seat!</p> + +<p>Gainsborough and Constable were both lovers of the scenery around +Ipswich; and many are the sketches in the possession of their Suffolk +friends, which speak their admiration of the beautiful landscapes which +surround the river Orwell.</p> + +<p>Had these artists seen Margaret in her equestrian character, they would +have immortalized her; for nothing could have been more appropriate to +the spirit of their works.</p> + +<p>Margaret was fearless as a Newmarket jockey; and never was known to have +had a single fall. She kept her seat as well as any of the tutored +children of the celebrated but unfortunate Ducrow: indeed, it may be +fairly questioned if any one of his troop could have managed to sit a +Suffolk cart-horse with the same composure.</p> + +<p>The fame of our young heroine’s exploits reached but little farther than +the sequestered farm-house to which her parents belonged, excepting now +and then at the Ipswich races, when some of the lads saw an awkward +rider, they would exclaim to each other, “Margaret would beat him +hollow.”</p> + +<p>Time flew swiftly on, producing no farther change in the family of the +Catchpoles than what may be usually seen in the habitations of the +labouring class. Those are generally the most stationary race of all +people in a parish, who have constant employment on a large farm: the +owners of lands change their places of abode—sell their estates—and +leave the country; the tenants frequently change their occupations; but +the labourer remains to cultivate the soil, and is always found a +resident among those “<i>poor who shall never perish out of the land</i>.” +They have their friends and fellow-labourers, and feel as much interest +in each other’s welfare as the members of richer or wider-spread +fraternities.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Catchpoles and the Cracknells were two families that principally +worked upon the lands of Mr. Denton. Their houses were indeed widely +separated; but as their labours were in the same field, their occasions +of meeting were frequent, their intimacy became strict, and they were of +mutual assistance to each other. One lived near the street at Nacton, +and the other upon the farm; so that whenever there was any occasion to +go to Nacton, the Catchpoles always had a friend’s house to call at, and +the Cracknells were as constantly using the Catchpoles’ cottage at the +entrance of the lane leading down to the farm-house.</p> + +<p>This intimacy was productive of especial accommodation on the +Sabbath-day; for the Catchpoles, being at a great distance from church, +they made use of the Cracknells’ cottage, near the street, and used to +carry their meals there, with the view of attending the church service +twice on that day.</p> + +<p>At that time, education was not so widely spread as it is now; and the +particular spot in which this labourer’s cottage stood being +extra-parochial, they had to seek what little instruction they could +obtain from the neighbouring parish of Nacton. The Reverend Mr. Hewitt +was as attentive to his people as he could be, and was much assisted in +his duties by the family of Admiral Vernon, who at that time lived at +Orwell Park, and by Philip Broke, Esq., the great landlord of that +district, and the father of our deeply-lamented and gallant Suffolk +hero, Sir Philip Broke. But education was not considered then so great a +desideratum as it is now, though the pious wish of England’s patriarchal +sovereign, George III, “that every cottager might have a Bible, and be +able to read it,” was nobly responded to through every densely-peopled +district in his kingdom.</p> + +<p>The Catchpoles were not an irreligious family, though they could none of +them read or write. They were not ignorant, though they were uneducated. +The father always repeated aloud the Lord’s Prayer every night before +his family retired to rest, and the first thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> before they went to +their work in the morning. They were generally respected by their master +and mistress, their friends and acquaintance. They were a +well-conducted, orderly family, and were united in love as dearly as +those who had the greater zest of education and cultivation to heighten +their domestic affections.</p> + +<p>Margaret grew up to her thirteenth year, a fine, active, intelligent +girl. She had a brother younger than herself by five or six years, of +whom she was very fond, from having nursed him during the occasional +absence of her mother. Her elder sister was always, as we have stated, +of a sickly constitution, and very delicate: she had very little bodily +strength, but she had learned to knit and to sew, and in these things +she excelled, and was the sempstress of the whole family. She was of a +sweet temper, so gentle, so affectionate, and so quiet, that, though a +complete contrast to her sister, she nevertheless maintained a just +ascendancy over the high spirit of Margaret, which was always curbed by +any quiet reproof from the calm wisdom of the invalid.</p> + +<p>We have seen something of Margaret’s infant spirit: we must now record a +simple fact of her childhood, which exhibits a singular instance of +intrepidity and presence of mind in a child not yet fourteen years old.</p> + +<p>It chanced that her mother one day sent her down to the farm-house to +ask for a little broth, which had been promised by Mrs. Denton, her +mistress, for poor Susan. Her father and her brothers were all at work +on a distant part of the farm; and, being harvest-time, master and man +were every one engaged. When Margaret arrived at the gate, she heard a +shriek from a female in the house, and in another minute she was in the +kitchen, where the mistress of the house had suddenly fallen down in a +fit. In one moment the girl of fourteen exhibited a character which +showed the powerful impetus of a strong mind. The two girls in the house +were shrieking with fright over their fallen mistress, and were +incapable of rendering the least assistance. They stood wringing their +hands and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> stamping their feet, and exclaiming, “Oh, my mistress is +dead!—Oh, my mistress is dead!”</p> + +<p>“She is not dead!" said Margaret; “she is not dead! Don’t stand +blubbering there, but get some cold water; lift up her head, untie her +cap, loose her gown, and raise her into the chair.” Not waiting to see +how her words were taken, she did the work herself, and caused the +others to help her. She used the water freely, and gave the chest full +play, dragged the chair toward the door, sent one of the girls for some +vinegar, and made the other rub her hands and feet; and did not slacken +her attention until she saw some symptoms of returning animation. When +the breathing became more composed, and the extremities more sensitive, +she sent off one of the girls to the harvest-field for help; and telling +the servant-girl that she was going for Dr. Stebbing, she went to the +stable, unslipped the knot by which the pony was tied to the rack; and, +with only the halter in her hand, without saddle or bridle, she sprang +upon the fiery little Suffolk Punch, snapped her fingers instead of a +whip, and was up the sandy lane, and on to the high road to Ipswich, +before the other girl was fairly across the first field towards her +master. She did not stop even to tell her mother where she was going, +but dashed past the cottage.</p> + +<p>On she went, and well had she her own wishes answered by the fiery +little animal she bestrode. Her heart was up, and so was the pony’s, +who, feeling a light weight upon his back, and a tight seat over his +ribs, gave full play to his lungs and legs, and answered to her heart’s +content the snap of the finger for expedition. Those who beheld the +animal would be astonished, and ask where all the speed could be. But +speed there was in his strong and well-knit limbs. So close was he put +together, that his action was almost like a ball bounding down the side +of Malvern hills. Nothing seemed to check the speed of Margaret or her +steed. She passed every cart jogging on to Ipswich market, without +taking any notice of the drivers, though she knew many of them well. Her +mistress<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> and the doctor were the only things in her mind’s eye at this +time, and they were four miles asunder, and the sooner she could bring +them together the better. She even met Admiral Vernon’s carriage just as +she turned on to the Ipswich race-course, at the part now called Nacton +Corner. The Admiral’s attention was called to the extraordinary sight of +a female child astride a pony at full speed, with nothing but a halter +over his head, and that held as loosely as if the rider wished to go at +full speed. The servants called to the child, even the Admiral was +sufficiently excited to do the same; but he might as well have attempted +to stop a vessel in full sail, with a strong and favourable wind.</p> + +<p>Away she dashed, regardless of any impediment. She passed one young +farmer from Stratton Hall, who rode what might be termed a high-bred +horse. It was a noble turf, and an open course; and the young man, as +much astonished as if it were an apparition before him, though convinced +that it was flesh and blood, stuck his spurs into his charger’s side, +and gave him his rein with the full determination to overtake her. But +this was not so easy a task as he anticipated. The little nag, hearing +the clank of heels behind him, turned his head first on one side, then +on the other; and, lifting up his nose like a stag, darted onward with +redoubled speed. Not Mazeppa with more sudden bound could have sprung +forward with more spirit than this wild little home-bred nag did down +the wide turf of the race-course. The youth called aloud to know what +was the matter, but Margaret heeded him not; and long before she reached +the stewards’ stand, she had fairly distanced the young squire of +Stratton Hall. At length she reached the end of the race-course, and +came on to the common of Bishop’s Hill. It is a very deep descent down +that hill to the town of Ipswich, which from its summit seems to lie at +the very bottom of an extensive pit. But it is a noble expanse that lies +before the spectator upon that eminence. The beautiful river flowing to +the left, and forming an expanded semicircle bordering the town, and the +distant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> country rising with amphitheatric grandeur beyond the barracks, +and above the towers of twelve churches, might induce even a hasty +traveller to pause and look upon that sight. But Margaret did not pause. +Down she dashed from the verge of the hill into the very thickest part +of the back hamlet of St. Clement’s. It was market-day, and scores of +pig-carts, and carriers’ vans, and waggons, stood on one side of the +road, taking up nearly half the street. But on through them all at full +speed dashed the intrepid girl. From every house people rushed to see +the sight—a girl, with her bonnet hanging down behind her, and going +like lightning through the crowded thoroughfare, was an extraordinary +sight.</p> + +<p>People gave way as she rode fearlessly on, and followed her up St. +Clement’s Fore Street, over the stone pavement across the wash into +Orwell Place, where lived the ever humane though eccentric surgeon, Mr. +George Stebbing. But not until she reached his very door did Margaret +give the first check to the pony.</p> + +<p>A passing spectator, who was at the moment opposite the surgeon’s door, +with an instinctive thought of her errand, gave a violent ring at the +surgery-bell, and received such a joyous “Thank you, sir,” from the +child, that he stopped to see the result.</p> + +<p>By this time the street was full of spectators, all anxious to know what +was the matter; but Margaret’s eye was fixed upon the door, and the very +moment it was opened and the doctor himself appeared, she exclaimed, +"Oh, come to my mistress, sir, directly!—come to my mistress!”</p> + +<p>The gentleman who had rung the bell was Mr. Nathaniel Southgate, of +Great Bealings, a rich and excellent agriculturist, and an acquaintance +of the doctor’s. Having followed him into the surgery, and there learnt +the feat the child had performed, he at once resolved to take her into +his own service; and he gave her a crown as a present, telling her, if +she was a good girl she should come and live with him. With<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> the former +communication, Margaret, as might be supposed, was not a little pleased; +but upon the latter she put a very grave face.</p> + +<p>The doctor’s gig being by this time ready at the door, he placed +Margaret beside him, and started for the farm, chatting by the way about +her poor sister Susan, whom she asked the doctor to visit as he returned +from the farm. Once only did she seem to reflect in an unfavourable +manner upon the act she had done, and said to the doctor, “I hope, sir, +if my master should be angry at my taking the pony, you will beg of him +to forgive me.”</p> + +<p>On arriving at the farm, the doctor found that the mistress of the house +was much better; and he then learned from the servant-girls, that, but +for little Margaret’s presence of mind and activity, the apoplectic fit +might have terminated fatally.</p> + +<p>Having given the needful instructions as to the treatment of the +invalid, the doctor once more took Margaret in his gig, and drove to the +cottage; where having visited and prescribed for poor Susan, he took +leave of the grateful family by telling Margaret, that if ever she stood +in need of a friend to help her, she had only to “post off again for the +doctor.”</p> + +<p>Numerous were the inquiries concerning Margaret and her expedition, and +she found herself, much to her surprise and chagrin, extolled for her +horsewomanship. She began, therefore, to be shy of riding the horses at +the farm; and modesty told her, now that her fame began to spread, there +was something bold and conspicuous in her former pleasures of this kind. +So sensitive was she upon this point, that she avoided as much as +possible all allusion to her past habits, and for the future carefully +avoided the horse-yard and the horses. Her father and brothers observed +this, and would sometimes say, “Peggy, you will soon forget how to +ride.”</p> + +<p>“The sooner the better,” she would reply, “if I am to have people +staring at me as they now do.”</p> + +<p>Susan perceived with satisfaction that Margaret,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> instead of being vain, +and puffed up with the notice of the world, was quite the reverse. +Numbers might have risen in their own opinion, and have been giddy from +the continual praises of one and another; but in this case it became a +subject of annoyance rather than of congratulation, and her sister began +to fear, from finding her so much more occupied in the house, and +especially for herself, that Margaret’s health would suffer.</p> + +<p>It was with some degree of satisfaction that an opportunity was soon +afforded for a change of place and action for her sister. Her uncle +Catchpole came expressly from Mr. Nathaniel Southgate, of Great +Bealings, to treat with her parents about Margaret’s going to service; +and matters were so speedily arranged, agreeably to all parties, that +she was to accompany her uncle on his return home. All seemed to think +it a good thing for the girl; even she herself, though quite new to the +work of a dairymaid, thought she should thus escape the unpleasant +observation she had been subject to. This accounted for the readiness +with which she complied with her uncle’s advice.</p> + +<p>When, however, the hour of departure came, never perhaps did a +cottage-girl leave home with a heavier heart: tears, unrestrained tears, +ran in an honest current over her young face. Oh, how Margaret loved her +poor sick sister! how deeply she felt the grief of leaving her! nor +would she consent to leave her, except under the faithful promise that +her father, or one of her brothers, would frequently come and see her, +and bring her word of Susan’s health.</p> + +<p>“Dear sister,” she said to Susan, “dear sister, if you should be worse, +oh, do let me come and nurse you! I love to wait upon you, I feel so +happy to see you smile.”</p> + +<p>“God bless you, dear little Peggy!" was the reply. “God bless you! Mind +and be a good girl, and take pains to do your duty well. Charles, or +John, and sometimes little Ned, will walk over to Bealings. I will send +for you if I am worse, for I too love to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> you near me; but it is +best for us both that we should be parted for a time, and especially for +you, as you can learn nothing more at home.”</p> + +<p>The kiss of filial and parental and brotherly and sisterly love was +given through many tears, and the little Margaret departed for her first +place.</p> + +<p>She went with a high character from home, and to a place where that good +character had preceded her, in the estimation of the gentleman who so +promptly rang the bell for her at the doctor’s door. She stayed a day or +two with her uncle in the cottage in which she was born, and then +entered into the service of Mr. Nathaniel Southgate. At her very first +interview with her new master, she begged of him never to talk about her +riding the pony, and as much as possible to prevent others speaking of +it. This very much raised her in the good opinion of her master and +mistress, for they had some fears lest she might be too fond of riding +to mind her work. They found her, however, completely cured of this +propensity, nor could she be induced, in a new and strange place, ever +to mount a horse or pony.</p> + +<p>How seldom does public praise make mortals shy! yet where true modesty +prevails this is found to be the case. It speaks highly for this young +girl, who, from an innate distaste to notoriety, shunned a habit which +had once been a prevailing pleasure, and in which, till the world spoke +loudly of her merit, she felt no degree of shame. How singular that such +a being should ever become so conspicuous, as she afterwards did, in +that very line which she now so sedulously avoided! Well may we all say, +"We know not what manner of spirit we are of.”</p> + +<p>In the situation which Margaret first occupied, her mistress found her +all that she required—she was very apt at learning to do her work, very +diligent in the performance of it, and always gave satisfaction. She had +plenty of employment, and was stirring with the lark; soon understood +the accustomed duties of a dairywoman, and was always praised for +cleanliness and good conduct.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + +<p>A year passed away rapidly. Margaret, at fifteen years of age, was as +tall as she was afterwards at twenty; she was strong, too, though slim. +One year makes a great difference in a female at that age—some are +almost women at sixteen, when boys are, generally speaking, awkward +clowns. She went to service before she had completed her fourteenth +year.</p> + +<p>Margaret remained a year and a half at Bealings, remarkable for the +strict propriety of her behaviour, and for the cheerfulness of her +disposition. She had stipulated with her mistress that, in case of her +sister’s death, or of her requiring her aid at the near approach +thereto, she should have full permission to leave. It was on this +account that, in the Whitsuntide following, she left her situation, and +went to attend her poor sister.</p> + +<p>Susan, who was then in her twentieth year, had lingered on, gradually +getting weaker and weaker, until she was quite unable to rise from her +bed. Her heart always yearned towards her sister; and, as she had +promised to let her be with her during her few last days, and she +herself thought those days were almost numbered, she now sought her +assistance. Margaret’s affection answered the sister’s call, and she was +ready to place all her earnings and all her labours at that sick +sister’s service. She hesitated not; but, taking a respectful and +grateful leave of the family at Bealings, she was, at Whitsuntide, again +an inmate of her father’s house.</p> + +<p>It has been stated, some few pages back, that between the Catchpoles and +Cracknells, as labourers upon the same farm, there existed a close +intimacy: it was Whitsuntide, and Mrs. Cracknell’s baby was to be +christened. Poor Susan was to have been one of the sponsors, and the +child to be named after her; but “poor Susan was laid on her pillow,” +and could not answer to the call of her neighbour in any other way than +by her prayers. Margaret was therefore asked to take Susan’s place, +which she consented to do, and went early to Nacton, to render what +assistance she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> might be able to give in the celebration of this event.</p> + +<p>Neighbour Cracknell kept a little shop of such goods as might be +obtained at the large, red-bricked, coffin-shaped house of Mr. Simon +Baker, grocer, St. Clement’s Street, Ipswich. This shop divided the fore +and back hamlets of St. Clement’s, and was the first from the Nacton +Road, entering upon the pavement of the town. Master Cracknell and his +boys spared what they could for the thrifty wife at home, who had fitted +up her closet window with shelves, and placed thereupon a stock of +threads, pins, needles, soap, starch, tape, and such like small and +least perishable articles, as might make some return in the shape of +home profit, instead of working in the fields.</p> + +<p>This cottage stood at the entrance of the village, and the shop, if such +it might be called, had frequent customers among the poor. A single +candle, a small loaf, half an ounce of tea, a halfpennyworth of cheese, +a pennyworth of butter, or sugar, or snuff, or tobacco, could here be +obtained. Thus Dame Cracknell managed to turn a penny in her own way; +contented with small gains, she provided for her rapidly increasing +family in a decent and honest manner, and looked forward with hope for +more custom. She made no outward show to create opposition, and, had she +always done so, might have gone on prosperously; but this joyful +Whitsuntide, which found her and her friends so quietly happy, was +fraught with untoward circumstances, which neither she nor her +neighbours could foresee. She had invited a few friends to partake of +her christening fare, and expected her relative, Stephen Laud, from +Felixstowe Ferry, to stand with Margaret Catchpole and herself as +sponsors for the little Susan.</p> + +<p>This Stephen Laud was a famous boatman, and for many years plied at the +ferry-boat between Harwich and Langer Fort, now called Landguard Fort. +That it required a skilful pilot to manage a ferry-boat, which had +nearly two miles to run from the Suffolk to the Essex side, will be +easily imagined. As government<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> letters were always conveyed from +Harwich to the fort, at that time, the ferryman was in the receipt of +government pay, and it was considered a good situation for an active +man. Such was Stephen Laud—and not only active, but a man of no common +intelligence. He had been left a widower, with one son, William, whose +uncle, a boat-builder at Aldborough, had taken a great liking to him. He +had bound him apprentice to Mr. Turner, the ship-builder, at Harwich, +where the boy had acquired no mean tact at his employment, and grew up a +good workman, though somewhat too free a spirit for a settled character. +He was very fond of the sea, and, from the joyous buoyancy of his +disposition, the captains of the traders to Aldborough used frequently +to give him a run.</p> + +<p>Mr. Crabbe, a brother of the celebrated poet, with whom young Laud +studied navigation, used to say he was the quickest lad as a +mathematician he ever knew. He was a merry, high-spirited sailor, rather +than a boat-builder. He was very intimate with one Captain Bargood, a +master and owner of several ships then trading along the coast, and over +to Holland.</p> + +<p>So taken was the captain with Will Laud, that he would have persuaded +him at once to join service with him. Will was generally liked; and +though his uncle wished him to stick to the boat-building, he could not +but confess that he would make a far better sailor. He knew, however, +that his old father, the pilot, would not approve of his going to sea +for a permanency, without his having a voice in the matter; and as +Captain Bargood offered to give young Laud a fair share of profits +without loss, and Will had such a turn for the sea, he had sent him over +to his father, to ask his consent to this change in his course. This was +the subject of their conversation, as, upon the Whitsuntide mentioned, +they journeyed on foot from Felixstowe Ferry to Nacton, a distance of +six miles.</p> + +<p>“You speak famously, boy, of this captain: he may be all right, and his +offers to you seem to be good. I have heard it hinted, however, that he +is not over-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>nice; and that though, as times go, he may be an honest +trader, yet that he can find friends to help him over with a cargo of +moonshine, and get a good run too into the country.”</p> + +<p>“I never heard a word of any such traffic, father, and whenever I have +been with him I have never seen him in any suspicious company. He would +never persuade me to this work, father. I am the son of a government +man, and I hope I shall always prove myself an honest tar.”</p> + +<p>“I hope so too, my boy; I hope so, too; but when once the block runs, +down fall the sails. Take care, my lad; keep your eye ahead.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be afraid, father; only you give consent, and I shall sail with +fair wind and weather.”</p> + +<p>“I can but wish you well, boy; I can give you but little help. You are +now entering your twentieth year, and seem to me determined to go to +sea. I shall not persuade you against your own inclinations; so, go; and +may the great Pilot above keep you in safety from the dangers of the +breakers! I will do what I can for you.”</p> + +<p>This consent seemed to animate young Laud with most fervent +thankfulness, and his elastic spring carried him over every stile he +came to. As they neared the village of Nacton he was chatty upon many +subjects, but more especially upon the object of his journey.</p> + +<p>“I never was at a christening party,” said the young man; “whom shall we +meet there, father?”</p> + +<p>“Your relatives on the mother’s side are all poor, William, but honest +people. I have long promised to be godfather to one of the Cracknells, +and now I am called upon to make good my promise. You will meet their +friends the Catchpoles, and one or two others. Perhaps Margaret +Catchpole may be there, as her sister Susan, I hear, will never be +likely to get out again.”</p> + +<p>“Margaret Catchpole! Margaret Catchpole! I wonder whether that is the +girl whose name I heard so much about two years ago. I was with Captain +Bargood at the Neptune, near the quay, as all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> people in the street +were talking about a spirited girl riding a pony full speed from Nacton +to Ipswich for the doctor. The name I heard mentioned was the same you +speak of.”</p> + +<p>“And was the very person we shall perhaps see among the party to-day.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad of it, for I can easily conceive she must be an enterprising +girl; I shall like to see her much. She must be very young still.”</p> + +<p>“About sixteen. I have heard that she is a very respectable young +woman.”</p> + +<p>Conversation of this kind served to entertain the youth and his father, +and to divert the current of their thoughts from the sea, until they +arrived at Nacton Street. They descended that ravine-looking village, +and, passing the blacksmith’s shop at the bottom of the valley, ascended +the hill near Admiral Vernon’s, passed the church towards the Ipswich +road, and arrived at Master Cracknell’s cottage. The ever-ready Margaret +had been before them to assist, and had made herself useful in many +ways. The humble holiday party consisted of the Catchpoles, father and +two sons,—the two Calthorpes, Stephen and William Laud, and the no +small family of the Cracknells; and last, not least, the heroine of the +day, Margaret Catchpole.</p> + +<p>The cottage, as the reader may suppose, was full; but welcome were they +all to the christening, and joyful that day were all the party. Between +the young men and Will Laud a quick intimacy commenced. His character +seemed formed for a holiday,—all buoyancy, life, and animation; he +could at one time have his fun with the children, another have feats of +bodily strength with the young men; tell a good story for the old +people, and sing a good song for the whole party.</p> + +<p>Laud was greatly prepossessed in Margaret’s favour; he had heard much of +her at Ipswich, and had been long anxious to see her. When he did see +her, she more than answered all his expectations. He thought to see a +lively, spirited child, with whom he might joke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> of her childish but +noble act, or romp; but he beheld a very respectable, decent young +woman, who, though active and intelligent, was far from having any +childish manners, lively, agreeable, and unaffected, with a quickness +and spirit well answering to his own.</p> + +<p>As for Margaret, such a bright vision of pleasure had never before +entered her thoughts or heart, as stole upon her that day. In short, +both William and Margaret may be said to have imbibed a partiality for +each other on this day, which ripened into such an attachment as has +seldom been recorded among all the host of love-stories which fill the +pages of romance. But these pages record no romance of unreal life; they +tell a plain, unvarnished tale,—a tale which, having been continually +related in private circles, is now given to the world at large, as a +remarkable series of events in</p> + +<p class="center">The short and simple annals of the poor.</p> + +<p>The merry christening passed away, and the friends parted, but not for a +long period. Charles Catchpole, who had been mightily taken with young +Laud, agreed to accompany him to his father’s. They all left the cottage +of Cracknell together, and all arrived in safety at their respective +homes; but not without Will Laud having walked double distance, to show +a devotion to our heroine which he, at that time, most sincerely felt.</p> + +<p>But they, like all lovers and friends, must and did part. Young William +had a long and agreeable soliloquy with himself, as he traversed again +that road by night which he had gone in the morning with his father. How +different the current of his thoughts! In the morning he was all raging +for the sea, but what a comparative calm as to that desired object now +ensued. There was tumult stirring of another kind, which seemed to +engross the whole of his thoughts, and centre them upon the land, not +upon the ocean.</p> + +<p>It is unnecessary to follow this youth through his every day’s journey +to and from Margaret’s cottage. His uncle began to think that his father +had succeeded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> in making a landsman of him; for Time, which flies +swiftly on the wings of Love, goes slower and more mechanically with +those who have to work hard every day, and whose bread depends upon the +sweat of their brow.</p> + +<p>Charles Catchpole, though he caught infection from the roving spirit of +young Laud, and found in him a love of enterprise which charmed him, did +not seem so fond of the sea as to be induced to leave for it his more +peaceful occupation. The young men were so far pleased with each other, +because Laud endeavoured to entertain Charles, and Charles was only too +happy to be so entertained. Yet the young landsman wanted to know more +of distant countries than young Laud, who had only been a coasting +trader, could tell him. He had once, indeed, been over to Holland, but +did not go far into the country; so that all the information he could +give related to simply the seaport towns on the coast.</p> + +<p>Whence arose this inquiring spirit on the part of Charles Catchpole, no +one could determine. The lad had once expressed a wish to be a soldier; +and it was the old clerk and sexton of the parish of Nacton who used to +read and explain to him that there were strange people in the world; and +these notions, which had for some time slumbered, seemed to be awakened +by young Laud’s company.</p> + +<p>Will Laud had idle time to spare, and he devoted a great portion of it +to Margaret, and was a constant attendant at Nacton. All the family knew +of the attachment, and it was no secret with any neighbour who chanced +to come in, all of whom were well pleased with Will Laud, and +congratulated their respective friends on the future happiness of the +young people. Even the master and mistress, for whom the family worked, +were satisfied with appearances; and the maids at the farm, who had +never quite forgiven Margaret for her good offices, were not a little +jealous at the early prepossession of the young sailor for “the girl,” +as they called her.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>Poor Susan, the sick sister, was the only one of the whole family who +did not like Will Laud. There frequently dwells in the sickliest forms +the purest love. Susan felt more interested for Margaret’s future +happiness than did any one else in the family. Through all that weakness +of body, there was a strength of mind and of judgement, which those who +have for a long time had the prospect of dissolution before them +frequently possess. She looked with penetrating eyes upon the young man. +She weighed well his spirit, listened to his free conversation, and +formed her idea of the young man’s character, not from outward +appearance, but from the tone of sentiment which came from his heart. +She was shocked to find that there was, through all his attentions and +general desire to please every one, a levity of expression upon the most +serious subjects. She did not say much to Margaret upon this point; but +her manner towards her lover was colder, and, in some measure, more +repulsive than her sister liked. It is said, that “we can always tell +those who love us.” It is equally true “that we can always tell those +who dislike us.”</p> + +<p>Poor Susan did not openly rebuke Will Laud. Yet he perceived that she +did not approve of him, and said to Margaret—"I do not think your +sister Susan likes me.” Why should he think this? He had never heard +Susan utter a word of rebuke to him. But sometimes, in the midst of his +wild vagaries, a glance of that bright eye which flashed, searching into +his spirit, would make the young sailor pause and finish his story in a +tamer way than he intended. Susan’s affectionate disposition would not +allow her, in that apparently happy period of the two lovers’ +intercourse, to speak anything harshly, but the more than usual warmth +of her interest was not to be mistaken. That pressure of the hand; that +kiss, with a starting tear in the eye, that hope expressed that she +might be happy, though a fixed tearfulness of doubt seemed to hover over +her mind, whilst she so often prayed for her sister, made Margaret +almost tremble, as if Susan foreboded evil.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Dear sister,” said Margaret to her one day; “dear sister, you look so +gloomily on my lover and me!”</p> + +<p>“No, Margaret. I look only with love upon you, and am only, perhaps, too +anxious for your future happiness. I am not gloomy. I love you so +dearly, Margaret, that I pray that you may live in happiness all your +days. I do not like to lose any of your love.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I any of yours, dear Susan; but sometimes I fear I either have so +done, or may so do. Laud fancies you do not like him.”</p> + +<p>“It is only that I love you so dearly, that if any one loves you less +than I do, it makes me feel unhappy. I like Laud very well as a visitor, +and he appears very fond of you, Margaret; but he seems to me to think +too much of himself to be exactly what I wish him to be, for your sake.”</p> + +<p>“May you not be mistaken, Susan? I am very young, and it must be years +before we marry. Do not you think he may be likely to improve with his +years?”</p> + +<p>“I should have thought so, had I not observed that vanity prompts him to +boast of his own successes over his uncle and his father. He has got his +own will of both, and appears to me to forget the sacrifices they have +made for his humour, which he fancies to be for his benefit. But I do +not speak against him, Margaret. I only wish him all that can be good, +for your sake.”</p> + +<p>This conversation might have extended much farther but for the entrance +of Laud, who came rather in haste to say that he was sent for by Captain +Bargood to Felixstowe Ferry. He had been into the field with young +Charles Catchpole, and a sailor brought to him an urgent and special +message that he would come to the captain, as he wished to see him upon +very particular business.</p> + +<p>“Margaret,” he said, “I must take my leave of you for a short time. I +suspect the captain wants me to go a voyage; but it will not be a long +one. I am assured of good pay, in a share, probably, of his profits, +without having to sustain the risk of loss.”</p> + +<p>Whatever present grief Margaret might feel at the departure of her +betrothed, she did not give way to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> any deep lamentation. She knew that +Laud must work for his living, as well as she for hers, but she did not +despair of success; they were both young, both enjoying health and +strength. Regret she might feel, but Hope was ever the bright beacon of +Margaret’s days. She could only express her hope that they might soon +meet again; and as her father and brothers came in from their labour, +Laud shook them all by the hand, told them he was going again to sea, +and wished them “all health and hearty cheer.”</p> + +<p>It was with much regret that the old man and his sons found that Laud +must leave them, and their honest nature failed not in expressing every +good wish for a pleasant voyage. Laud turned to the sick-bed upon which +poor Susan lay, and approached to bid her good-bye. He was surprised to +see her in tears, and greatly agitated: so much so, indeed, that the +bed-clothes shook with such a tremulous motion, that they showed the +extent of her agitation.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye, Susan,” said Laud, and extended his hand.</p> + +<p>Susan turned her piercing eye upon him, took his warm hand in her cold, +transparent, bloodless fingers, and with great effort spoke to him.</p> + +<p>“William, I want to say a word before you go.” Here she paused to take +breath, and every one who loved her crowded round her bed. “I have +observed, William, much in your character that requires alteration, +before you can be either happy yourself or can make my sister so. You +have a lightness of thought, which you do not blush to express, which +appears to me bordering upon infidelity. There is a God, William, Who +observes us all, and knows every secret of our hearts, and in His sight +piety, parental love, and duty, are qualities which meet His +approbation, and the contrary provoke his displeasure. I have observed +with pain that you sometimes speak with levity of those whom you ought +to love. You may not intend to be wicked, but your language, with +respect to the guardians of your youth, is not good. You will forgive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +my speaking my mind to you now, as I am sure I shall never see you again +in this world: but if ever we do meet in another and a better world, you +must alter greatly in the sentiments of your heart. We shall never meet +if you do not. You want steadiness of principle and firmness of purpose. +You may lead those who look up to you; but I can see that you may be +very easily led by others, who have only to exercise determination, and +they may tempt you to anything. You want, I repeat it, steadiness of +principle and stability of purpose. I love my dear sister, and I can +foresee that you will make her very unhappy if you do not alter in this +respect. Take what I say in good part, and forget it not. I can only +pray for your welfare. If ever you are unkind to Margaret, you and I +shall never meet in another world. Good-bye, William, good-bye!”</p> + +<p>The effort had been too much for her weak state, and she sank back +exhausted, hiding her tears upon her pillow.</p> + +<p>Youth and health do not dwell long upon the words of sickness, though +love cannot fail to produce a powerful effect for the time. Laud +returned to Felixstowe, leaving our cottagers to lament his departure, +and Margaret to the exercise of those duties to which her nature and +inclination made her then, and ever after, so well adapted—the nursing +of an invalid. Had she not had these duties to perform, she might have +felt more keenly the loss of her lover. She was never of a desponding +disposition. She knew that Laud must work hard; and she hoped that his +love for her would make him prudent and careful, though it might be +years before they both saved a sufficiency to furnish a cottage.</p> + +<p>Her duties to poor Susan became every day more urgent, for every day +seemed to bring her slowly to her end. Her attentions to this sick +sister were of the gentlest and most affectionate kind. Softly, gently, +noiselessly, she made every one go in and out of the apartment. Susan +wished that all whom she knew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> and loved should pray with her, and her +good mistress frequently came up from the farm to read to her. Oh, how +eagerly does the mind of the sufferer devour the word of God!—the more +humble, the more sweet that precious fruit to the palate of the sick! +How does she desire more and more of the living waters of life, and lift +her eyes to Heaven, and turn them in upon her heart, to see whence her +help might come!</p> + +<p>Poor Susan had been too long a sufferer not to have learned the duties +of patience; she had too humble a spirit to think anything of herself; +but when she thought of her father, mother, brothers, and sister, her +whole soul seemed absorbed in their present and future welfare.</p> + +<p>Oh! what instructive lessons may be learned at the sick-bed! How wise +are the reflections then made upon life and immortality! Could men only +be as wise at all hours, how happy might they be!</p> + +<p>But Susan’s hours were numbered, and her end drew nigh. Scarcely three +weeks after the departure of Laud, she was called away; but her end was +so characteristic of piety and love, that, despite of the impatience of +the hasty reader, it must be recorded. On Saturday, the 24th of June, +not long before the family were about to retire to rest, Susan said to +Margaret, “Lift me up, dear, lift me up—I feel myself going.” As might +be expected, a word of this sort called them all around her. The poor, +weak, wasted, emaciated girl, with an eye as brilliant as the purest +crystal, and a countenance expressive of the calm spirit within, looked +upon the mother bathing her thin hand with tears, and the affectionate +father and brothers a little more composed, but not less afflicted. +Edward, the youngest, knelt close by her side; whilst the affectionate +Margaret, with her arm and part of her chest supporting the raised +pillow, against which the sufferer leant, held with her left hand the +other transparent one of her dying sister.</p> + +<p>Who shall paint the silver locks of age, and that calm eye, watching the +waning light of a dear daughter’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> life? “Let us pray,” said the dying +girl; “let us pray.” Around the bed knelt six of her relatives, and in +deep humility heard Susan’s prayer for them all, whilst they could only +answer, with a sob, “God bless you!”</p> + +<p>But now came an effort, which seemed to agitate the sufferer beyond all +former exertions: the clothes around her poor chest seemed to shake with +excess of emotion, as, with a most earnest and impressive look, she half +turned herself round, and uttered the name of her sister.</p> + +<p>“Margaret,” she said, “Margaret, you will never marry William Laud—he +will cause you all much sorrow; but do not forsake the right and honest +path, and you will find peace at the last. Margaret, my dear sister, +never suffer him to lead you astray! Promise me, promise me never to be +his, except he marry you amidst your friends.”</p> + +<p>“I never will, dear Susan—I never will.”</p> + +<p>“Bless you! God bless you all!” And with one look up, as if she would +pierce the skies, she raised both her hands to heaven, and said, “O +blessed Saviour!” and with those words her spirit took its flight to +eternity.</p> + +<p>What a thrill, a holy thrill, ran through the hearts of all, as they +witnessed this solemn but cheerful end of her they so dearly loved! That +night was, indeed, one of serious reflection among them all: they +thought and talked of her, and blessed her, and resolved to follow her +advice, and keep the honest path.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br /><span style="font-size:70%">THE TEMPTATION</span></a></h2> + + +<p>Laud reached Felixstowe Ferry: he had seen his parent, and then went to +the shore to meet the captain. There they stand under the cliff, by the +shore, opposite the harbour and town of Harwich, whilst the light gleams +upon the distant beacon of Walton-on-the-Naze. There is a boat a short +distance on the calm wave, and not far ahead a brig is seen standing off +and on. The captain is pointing to the brig, and seems very earnest in +his conversation; whilst a sort of cool composure is settled upon the +firm attitude of Will Laud, as he listens and seems to remain immovable.</p> + +<p>Oh! would that he had so remained! Many an afterpang, which the birth of +that day’s sorrow occasioned, would have been spared.</p> + +<p>“Well, Laud, I make you a fair offer,” said this artful captain; “I make +you a fair offer of the command of the brig: there she is, as tight a +vessel as ever cut a wave. I will venture to say, that when you helped +to lay her keel with Turner, you little dreamt of commanding on board of +her.”</p> + +<p>“I have no objection to the craft, captain; but I do not like the job.”</p> + +<p>“No: I suppose you would like to live at home along with the old +ferryman, your father; or, perhaps, knock away at boat-building on the +Alde. Pshaw, Will, pshaw! this is a tame kind of life. I took you for a +fellow of more spirit, or I never should have taken you for my +messmate.”</p> + +<p>“When you took me for such, you took me as an honest man, and all your +dealings were above-board. Now you want to make me a smuggler. This is +the work, captain, I do not like. My father is an honest man, and under +Government—why should I bring disgrace upon him?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>“And does it follow, Will, that I am what you call a smuggler, because I +do a little in a free trade? Where’s the disgrace you speak of?—and who +is to bring it upon us? Come, Will, there are two sides of a question, +and we may hit upon the right as well as the wrong.”</p> + +<p>“But we shall be cheating the Government of our country.”</p> + +<p>“As to that, Will, look from the highest to the lowest, and see if they +do not all do so as long as they can with impunity.”</p> + +<p>“I do not see that.”</p> + +<p>“No, Will, no; because you shut your eyes. But who pays more tax than he +can help, or as much as is strictly due, either for his horses, +servants, powder, malt, hops, windows, silk, woollen, or any commodity +whatever, upon which a wholesale tax is imposed for the good of the +country? Don’t talk, then, of cheating Government. I call mine only a +little free trade; and if I choose to employ a few free hands and pay +them well, what is that to anybody?”</p> + +<p>“You may employ them with more freedom in an honest way, than running +such risk of life, liberty, and property, as you do. I almost as much +grieve that I ever knew you, captain, as I do now at being compelled to +leave your service. I have been obliged to you hitherto, but you want +now to lay me under an obligation to which I have no stomach.”</p> + +<p>“This is only since you came to the ferry, and went to the christening. +Go back, my boy, go back and turn ploughman. You will like that better +than ploughing the waves. You will only be, after all, a lubberly +landsman. But I must hail my fellows, and be off. What a pity such a +brig should go a-begging for a captain! Your own work, too, Will. Well, +well, I did not think you such a fool. Here, with a silver spoon in your +mouth, you would throw it away, and take up with a wooden one. Go, eat +your bread sopped in warm water, in a wooden bowl, and leave your old +messmates and friends to good fare, an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> active life, and cheerful +company. Good-bye, Will; good-bye.”</p> + +<p>And the captain turned round to give the signal to his boatmen to pull +to shore; but without the least intention of giving up his prey. It was +only as a cat would pretend to let her victim escape to a little +distance, under the idea of having more play.</p> + +<p>“Go to your girl, boy; go to your girl,” said he, as he took a step +toward the beach. “She will be glad to see you without employment, and +sick of the sea for her sake.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what, captain, my girl’s an honest one, and if you were +to make her a disloyal offer, she would be the first to heave up her +anchor, or cut her cable, and haul to windward and be off.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t make her any offer; I have nothing to do with any of her sex, +and the less you have to do with them the better, Will. But if you must +have her in your eye, why not for her sake try to get a comfortable +berth for her? In a very short time, you will be able to secure enough +to make her happy. After a few runs, you may have a snug cot, near this +very cove, and be as comfortable as you wish to be. But if you have made +up your mind, and are determined not to accept my offer, why then I must +find another who will; and I warrant, that I need not go far before I +meet with one who will jump at the chance.”</p> + +<p>“I say, captain, how many voyages shall I go, before that time comes you +speak of?”</p> + +<p>“That depends upon our luck. The quicker work we make, the sooner we +shall keep our harbour. One year, perhaps two. At all events, three, and +your berth is sure.”</p> + +<p>“Well, captain, but how shall it be for share?”</p> + +<p>“Why, there’s the brig, and look ye, Will, she’s all right and tight, +and everything well provided aboard her. She is under your command; your +first trip to Holland; your cargo, gin; and as to other goods, snuff, +tobacco, linen, and such things, I let you barter with for yourself. +Only secure me the main chance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> As to risk, that’s all mine. You shall +receive, say one-sixth of the profit for the first year, one-third for +the second; and an equal share after. Now, my boy, but that I know your +pluck, and your tact, I should never make you such an offer. There you +have it.”</p> + +<p>“Captain, I’m your man!—I’m your man!”</p> + +<p>And so he sold himself to as artful, desperate, and bold a rover, as +ever crossed the Channel. How true were poor Susan’s last words to +him—"You want steadiness of principle and stability of purpose!” From +that hour, Will entered upon a course of life which led to his own ruin, +and the ruin of others. He was caught in the toils of a smuggler, from +which, though he once escaped, he never had sufficient stability to +entirely emancipate himself.</p> + +<p>Captain Bargood, to whom Will thus sold himself, was a clever as well as +a desperate adventurer. He contrived to keep up appearances as a steady +trader, and had vessels as regularly chartered as any of England’s +noblest merchants. His sails visited with proper invoices all the ports +along the coast, and he had connexions in every town of the first class +of dealers. Yet this man managed to have withal an under-current in the +contraband trade, which paid him far greater profits than his regular +account.</p> + +<p>So well did he arrange his plans, that if a vessel of his was taken by +the coastguard, he had always a captain or a mate to father her, and as +he always paid them well, his own fair fame was suspected by none but +those who occasionally bought goods of him at a price so far below the +market, that they were content to let their suspicions subside in their +own profits. He was a good judge of men, both of sailors, landsmen, +gentry, and men of business. He knew how far to trust them, and how soon +to shorten his sail. His ships, captains, and crews, were as well known +to him as anything in his own unostentatious cottages at Aldborough, +Hollesley, Harwich, or Ipswich; in which he occasionally took up his +abode, as business or inclination prompted. But he equally well knew +Will Laud,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> and foresaw in him the very commander who should bring him +in many a good prize in the shape of spirits or tobacco, furs or linen. +He cared for no man’s success but his own. He could be rough, smooth, +hot, or cool, just as he thought best to gain his end. Money was his +idol, and, as a quick return and enormous profit for a small outlay, the +smuggler’s trade seemed to him the most promising. Laud would, and as +the sequel will show, did prove a valuable servant or slave to him. This +man outlived every one of his captains, and died about four years ago: +namely, in the year 1841.</p> + +<p>But the young sailor is arm-in-arm with the captain, the boat is hailed, +the crew, four oars and a steersman, approach the shore, and the captain +calls out—</p> + +<p>“Now, Jack, high and dry for your new commander!”</p> + +<p>The boat grounds, and Laud and his future master are seated in the +stern.</p> + +<p>“Long time bringing-to, captain?” said the gruff and surly-looking John +Luff, a fellow who seemed formed of such materials as compose a +cannon-ball. He looked like what he was, an iron-hearted and iron-fisted +desperado, whose only pleasure was to serve a bad man, and to rule every +one in the ship who had a little more feeling than himself.</p> + +<p>They were soon on board the brig, and Laud was duly introduced to the +crew, and appointed their captain.</p> + +<p>“Yes, master, yes,” said the mate, “we understand. You need not spin us +a long yarn; business, say I, and the sooner the better. I will take +care of him, trust me. He’s a smart boy. He’ll do, captain, he’ll do.”</p> + +<p>The mate, John Luff, and the master, seemed to understand each other. +The captain shook hands with Laud, and bidding him take care of his own +craft, he left them outward bound, and came ashore at Woodbridge Haven.</p> + +<p>Let it suffice, for the reader’s information, that Laud was successful +in his new career. He made his voyage<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> pay well, and contrived to send +some handsome presents to Margaret, too handsome to be acceptable. Alas! +how little did that desperate youth think that he was giving pain +instead of pleasure to all those who had any interest in his welfare! +How little did he think he was laying the foundation of misery and woe +to his father, to the Catchpoles, to the Cracknells, and to every one +who knew him!</p> + +<p>His first present was received by Margaret at a time when the heart of a +true lover is most open to the kind acts of friendship. Poor Margaret +and the family had just returned from the funeral of Susan, and were +seated in the cottage, talking over the good qualities of their dear +departed and beloved friend. Her sayings and doings, her affectionate +advice, her patience and resignation, were all topics of conversation, +and each had some kind act to record, not one a single fault to mention. +One or two of the Cracknells, and a workman or two on the farm, who +helped to carry the corpse, were all of the party who were not +relatives. The good mother had prepared the mournful meal, some cake, +bread and butter, a cup of tea, and a pint of beer each for the men. +They were partaking of this humble meal in a very subdued and quiet +spirit, as there came a rap at the door, and young Edward opened it.</p> + +<p>“Come in,” said the father, and in walked a weatherbeaten man, who from +his dress might be taken for some honest ploughman, but whose +countenance betrayed a very different expression—none of that openness +and simplicity which good labourers and countrymen wear, but a shaggy +brow, and matted thick black hair. His eyebrows half covered the sockets +of his eyes, which peeped from under them with an inquisitive glance, to +see if all was safe.</p> + +<p>“Does one Margaret Catchpole live here?” said the man.</p> + +<p>“Yes, she does,” was Margaret’s quick reply; “what do you want with her? +I am she.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! you be she, be you? Then I be commissioned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> to deliver this here +parcel into your hands;" and, easing his shoulder of a heavy bale of +goods, they came with some weight upon the chair which Edward had +vacated for the guest.</p> + +<p>“From whom does this come?” said she.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know who he is. I was at work on the marshes at Bawdsey Ferry, +when a young sailor came up to me, and asked me if I knew where Nacton +was. I told him I knew whereabouts it was. He then asked me if I would +take this here bundle to one Margaret Catchpole, a labourer’s daughter, +living, as he described, in just this place, which I have found.”</p> + +<p>“Did he give his name?”</p> + +<p>“No; he said he couldn’t come himself, but that this here would remind +you of him.”</p> + +<p>All immediately concluded who he was, and Margaret asked Edward to bring +the packet into the sleeping-room, whilst the countryman was asked to +sit down and take a draught of beer.</p> + +<p>The parcel was unpacked. There were silks and shawls, caps and lace, +ribbons and stuffs, and gloves; parcels of tea, coffee, tobacco, and +snuff; together with curious-headed and silver-tipped pipes; in short, +enough to stock a small shop. But there was nothing to give pleasure to +Margaret. That poor girl’s heart sank within her at a sight which she at +once perceived was far too costly to be honestly procured. She called to +Edward to assist her in tying up the bale again, and removing it into +the room where the pretended countryman was seated. As she entered, the +fellow roughly accosted her—</p> + +<p>“Well! you find summut there, I dare say, to tempt you soon to put aside +these dark-looking dresses which you all wear. I must be going: can I +take anything back for you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Margaret—"yes; you may take the whole bundle back the same +way you brought it, and tell the young man who gave it you that I should +have valued one single pair of honestly purchased gloves more than all +the valuables he has sent me.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a twinkle of that small grey eye, and a twitch of the muscles +of that sun-burnt face, which showed that even the hardy, rough-looking +countryman was startled at such an honest spirit as then addressed him. +This person was none other than John Luff, the mate of the <i>Alde</i>, who +had undertaken to perform this duty for Captain Laud, from a motive, +without much love in it, simply because he feared that the captain might +be persuaded by his girl to leave off a smuggler’s life. He saw in an +instant that such would have been the case, had young Laud come with +him, or brought the load himself. He had assumed the countryman’s dress +to avoid any notice from the coastguard, and, until he came to the lane +leading to the farm, he had brought the bale of goods in a sack slung +over his shoulder, as if it were corn, or chaff, or flour. He was not +very easily put out, nor long in giving his answer.</p> + +<p>“No, young woman, I have had lug enough to bring it here, and I got a +crown for my job; mayhap, if I were to take it back to the youngster, I +might lose half my crown, and so be paid for my trouble. I’m not fond of +broken heads for a love-ditty. You may find some one else to take it +back: I’ve done my duty.”</p> + +<p>“No, you have not,” said Margaret; “you are no landsman, I am sure: your +duty is not that of an honest labourer. You are—I am sure you +are—connected with the smugglers on the coast. You may take this parcel +for yourself. I give it to you, to do what you like with; but do tell +the young man, when you see him, that I hate his presents, though not +himself.”</p> + +<p>“I won’t have anything to do with what’s not my own,” said the man, +"although you tell me I’m not an honest man. I’m off. I was to meet the +young chap again to-morrow at the same time and place. If you had any +small love-token now, or any words which might not anger the young +fellow, why, I shouldn’t mind taking ’em; but if you haven’t any, why +then I’ll tell him you didn’t care anything about him or his present. So +good-bye to you.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>The fellow took up his hat and stick to depart.</p> + +<p>“Hold!" said Margaret—"hold!" and taking her father’s hat down from its +peg, she tore off the crape, and folding it up, she approached the +disguised seaman, saying—"Give him this—do give him this—and tell +him, I’d rather we all wore the like for him, than the rich things he +has sent us. Will you tell him this?”</p> + +<p>“No doubt he’ll be much obliged to you: but you won’t be long in this +mind. So, good-bye to you all.” And the man departed, leaving that +spirited girl to think with pain of the dreaded words of +Susan—"Margaret, you will never marry William Laud!”</p> +<hr class="chap" /> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br /><span style="font-size:70%">MISFORTUNES</span></a></h2> + + +<p>Well would it have been for the Catchpoles and the Cracknells, had they +burnt every bit of valuable stuff which the smuggler had that day +brought. What years of anguish would it have spared them!—what +miseries! what agonies! Nothing unlawful can long prosper. Sorrow and +bitterness follow the days of unjust gain, and whosoever thinks to be +happy by the sudden influx of ill-gotten wealth, will find himself +grievously mistaken. Wealth gotten by honest industry and fair dealing +may enable a good man to soothe the sufferings of others, but even when +obtained, men find that it is not the being rich, but the regular +employment in a prosperous line of life, that gives the pleasure. Sudden +prosperity is too often destructive of a man’s peace of mind; but sudden +prosperity, by evil means, is sure to bring its own ruin. Had but that +first bale of goods been burnt, Margaret might have continued the happy, +cheerful child of Nature, respected and received as the honest, +good-hearted girl she really was.</p> + +<p>It may fairly be said of Margaret, that she had no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> covetous hankering +after any of the goods which were that day presented to her eye. She +told all her friends what they were, and consulted with them what should +be done with them. She would have given them up to the government +officers, but she saw that it would involve her lover. She would have +sent them to Laud’s father, but again the idea of causing him distress +deterred her. Oh! that she had cast them upon the broad sea, and let who +would have caught them! But they were goodly things to look upon; they +were costly—too good to throw away. And as Mrs. Cracknell said they +might all be serviceable, and it was a sin to waste them, she persuaded +Margaret to let her have them.</p> + +<p>“Let my good man take them home; we may by degrees get rid of them. I +can do the smaller packages up in smaller parcels, in my way; and as to +the silks and lace, I can find perhaps a distant customer to take them +off my hands.”</p> + +<p>“You may do what you like with them,” said Margaret, “only do not let me +know anything more about them.”</p> + +<p>“You know, Mr. Catchpole,” said Mrs. Cracknell, “that we may all want a +little help one day, and these things may provide against a stormy hour. +At all events, you shall lose nothing by them, though they now bring you +no profit.”</p> + +<p>It did not take much time to persuade these simple-minded people to part +with things for which they had no demand and no taste.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cracknell had them conveyed to her cottage, where she had them +sorted out, and, as prudently as possible, disposed of them according to +the means of her humbler customers.</p> + +<p>After a time, she found herself gradually improving in circumstances, +and, had she been content, might have gone on improving for years. Her +profits were too rapid, however, not to excite a stronger mind than she +possessed. She made, of course, handsome presents to the young +Catchpoles, and Margaret had the mortifica<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>tion of seeing a smart pipe, +and of smelling the fumes of rich tobacco, even in her own cottage, well +knowing they were the fruits of her lover’s misdoings.</p> + +<p>Meantime, that lover’s name began to be notorious along the coast. +Margaret heard no good of him. The coastguard had set a mark upon him, +and it became known throughout the country that Will Laud was the +ringleader of as desperate a gang as ever infested the shores of Great +Britain.</p> + +<p>So frequent were the inroads made at this period upon the commerce of +the country, that government had to employ a very active force to stay, +though she could not put down, so discreditable a feature upon her +coasts.</p> + +<p>At this time the shores of Norfolk and Suffolk were most conspicuous for +contraband trade. Severe and deadly were the continual actions between +the preventive-service men and the smugglers; lives were continually +lost on both sides; and dreadful animosities sprang up between the +parties upon the sea-shore.</p> + +<p>Will Laud and his associates had great luck; and Captain Bargood found +in him as bold and profitable a fellow as he could wish. Many were the +hairbreadth escapes, however, which he, in conjunction with his crew, +experienced. Laud was a tool in the hands of his mate, though he himself +was not aware of it; for whilst that fellow had his own way, he always +managed to get it through the medium of the captain’s permission. He +would, in his bluff way, suggest, with all becoming subordination, such +and such a scheme, and generally succeeded in the enterprise.</p> + +<p>They had observed for a long time a scout upon the beach under Bawdsey +Cliffs, and knew that he was one of the Irish cruisers, who had been +transplanted to watch their craft: Laud proposed to nab him when he +could. He had been ashore one day to meet his employer, and had met this +merry-hearted Irishman at the Sun Inn, in a street of that long, sandy +village of Bawdsey. Pat was a loquacious, whisky-loving, light-hearted +fellow, who, without fear, and with ready<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> wit, made himself agreeable +to everybody. He frequented the various inns along the border, and was +generally liked for his dash of gallantry, his love of drinking, and his +generous spirit; he was a brave fellow, too, and watchful for his +honour. He had seen along the beach a man roaming about, and had +concealed himself, not far from the fisherman’s cottage, on purpose to +watch him; but all he could make out was, that the man went to the back +of the cottage, and there he lost him. Pat went to the fisherman’s cot, +found the man and his wife at their meals, searched about the premises, +but could spy nothing. Pat had seen this thing several times, and was +fully convinced that the man he saw was a smuggler.</p> + +<p>In Bawdsey Cliff the smugglers had a cave of no small dimensions. It had +formerly been a hollow ravine in the earth, formed by the whirling of a +stream of water, which had passed quickly through a gravelly bed, and +met with opposition in this mass of clay. It had made for itself a large +crater, and then had issued again at the same place, and ran through a +sand-gall and gravelly passage down to the sea. This was discovered by a +tenant of the Earl of Dysart, who, in sinking a well near his shepherd’s +cottage, suddenly struck into the opening of this cave. As the springs +were low at this season, the cave was almost empty of water, and formed +a most curious appearance. It was even then called the Robbers’ Cave, +and curiosity was greatly excited in the country to visit it. It was so +smoothly and regularly formed by the eddies of the whirlpool, that the +nicest art could not have made it so uniform. The proprietor sank his +well some feet lower, until he came to a good stream; but in making the +well, he formed an archway into this curious place, and left it so for +the gratification of public curiosity. Time swept on, and the cave +became less frequented, and at last forgotten.</p> + +<p>A few years, however, previously to this narration, some smugglers had +been disappointed of their run, and had thrown their tubs down the well, +with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> consent of their agent the fisherman, probably a descendant of +the old shepherd’s, who dwelt in the cottage. This led to the +re-discovery and improvement of this famous depôt of arms, ammunition, +stock-in-trade, and place of retreat, which was then occupied by Will +Laud and his associates, and to which very spot John Luff was at that +time bound.</p> + +<p>These men had contrived to make the cave as comfortable a berth as a +subterraneous place could be. They had ingeniously tapped the land +stream below the cave, and laid it perfectly dry, and with much labour +and ingenuity had contrived to perforate the clay into the very chimney +of the cottage; so that a current of air passed through the archway +directly up the chimney, and carried away the smoke, without the least +suspicion being awakened. This place was furnished with tables, mats, +stools, and every requisite for a place of retreat and rendezvous. The +descent was by a bucket well-rope, which a sailor well knew how to +handle; whilst the bucket itself served to convey provisions or goods of +any kind.</p> + +<p>Such was the place into which vanished the choice spirits which poor Pat +had seen, and into which Pat himself, <i>nolens</i>, <i>volens</i>, was shortly to +be introduced. It would be needless to add, that the fisherman and his +wife were accomplices of the smugglers.</p> + +<p>Some short time after, Pat had an opportunity of discovering the use of +the well as an inlet and outlet of the smugglers, and conceived the idea +that contraband goods were stowed away at the bottom of it. He had seen +a man, after talking to the woman at the spot, descend, and then come up +again, and depart.</p> + +<p>“Now’s my turn,” says Pat to himself, as he came out from his +hiding-place, and went to the well. As every sailor could let himself +down by a rope, and ascend by it likewise, Pat was soon at the bottom of +the well, but found nothing. He began his ascent, working away with his +hands and feet in a manner which a sailor only understands. He was +gaining more daylight, and hoping that he should get out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> before the +woman (whom he concluded had gone for help) should return. He had gained +the very part where the archway into the cave was formed, and there +found a sort of stay, or bar, at the opposite side, to rest his leg +upon. He was taking advantage of this post to get breath, and had just +swung off again to ascend, when he felt his ankles grasped by a powerful +pair of pincers, as it seemed, and in another instant such a jerk as +compelled him instantly to let go the rope, and he came with all his +weight against the side of the well. Stunned he was, but not a bone was +broken, for his tormentors had taken the precaution to have a +well-stuffed hammock ready to break his fall. He was in a moment in the +cave, and when reviving, heard such a burst of unearthly merriment, he +could think of nothing but that he had arrived at that dreaded +purgatory, to escape which he had paid so much to his priest.</p> + +<p>In a faint, feeble voice, Pat was heard to exclaim—“O, Father O’Gharty; +O, Father O’Gharty, deliver me!”</p> + +<p>This caused such another burst, and such a roar of “O, Father O’Gharty! +O, Father O’Gharty!" from so many voices, that the poor fellow groaned +aloud. But a voice, which he fancied he had heard when on earth, +addressed him, as he lay with his eyes just opening to a red glare of +burning torches.</p> + +<p>“Patrick O’Brien! Patrick O’Brien! welcome to the shades below.”</p> + +<p>Pat blinked a little, and opened his eyes wider, and saw, as he thought, +twenty or thirty ghosts of smugglers, whom he supposed had been shot by +the coastguard, and were answering for their sins in purgatory.</p> + +<p>“Come, Pat, take a drop of moonshine, my hearty, to qualify the water +you have taken into your stomach: this liquid flame will warm the cold +draught.”</p> + +<p>Pat had need of something to warm him, but had no idea of drinking +flame.</p> + +<p>“I hope,” he said, “your majesty will excuse a poor Irishman.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p>“No excuse! no excuse! By the saint, your namesake, you shall swallow +this gill, or maybe you’ll have a little more water to simmer in.”</p> + +<p>Pat made no further opposition; and one of the uncouth, black-bearded +demons, handed him a cup of as bright, shining liquid as any which the +sons of whisky ever saw.</p> + +<p>“Drink, Pat, drink,” said the fellow; “a short life and a merry one.”</p> + +<p>“Och!" sighed Pat, and the next moment the burning liquid ran down his +throat, warming his inside with such a glow, as made the blood circulate +rapidly through every vein of his body. Whether it was the pure gin he +had drunk, or the naturally aspiring disposition of the man, he began to +look around him, and to note the habitation in which they dwelt. Pikes +and guns were slung here and there; cables and casks lay about the room; +swords and pistols—weapons which seemed more adapted to fleshly men +than disembodied spirits—made the reviving spirit of this son of the +Emerald Isle bethink him that he had fallen into the hands of mortals. +He now looked a little more wise, and began to give a good guess at the +truth, when the one who seemed to be the captain of the band soon +dissipated all his doubts by saying, “Patrick O’Brien, here’s to +Lieutenant Barry and the preventive service. Come, Pat, drink to your +commander, ’tis the last time you will ever be in such good company.”</p> + +<p>These words convinced him that he was in the smugglers’ cave; and as he +knew them to be most desperate fellows, his own lot did not appear much +more happy than when he thought himself in the company of evil spirits.</p> + +<p>“Come, Pat, drink. You need a little comfort.”</p> + +<p>Pat drank, and though he foresaw that no good could come to him, yet as +the spirit poured in, and his heart grew warm, he thought he would not +seem afraid, so he drank “Success to Lieutenant Barry and the +coastguard!”</p> + +<p>“Now, Pat, one more glass, and we part for ever.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ominous words—“part for ever!” He heartily wished himself again in his +own dear island, ere he had ventured a peep at the bottom of the well. +The smugglers—for such he found they were—grinned upon him most +unceremoniously, as if they had some horrid purpose in view, and seemed +to enjoy the natural timidity which began to creep over his frame.</p> + +<p>Pat drank his last glass: John Luff arose, commanded silence, and, in as +gentle a voice as such a fellow could assume, said, “Mr. Patrick +O’Brien, you are welcome now to your choice of departure.”</p> + +<p>“Thank ye, gemmen, thank ye, and I shall not forget your hospitality.”</p> + +<p>Pat rose, as if to depart.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Patrick O’Brien, the choice of departure we give you is the choice +of death!”</p> + +<p>Pat’s heart sank within him, but he did not lose all his courage or +presence of mind; and the latter quality suggested to him that he would +try a little blarney.</p> + +<p>“Why, gemmen, you wouldn’t kill a poor fellow in cold blood, would you?”</p> + +<p>“No, Pat, no; and for that reason we have made you welcome to a drop, +that you may not die a cold-blooded death. Draw swords!”</p> + +<p>In an instant twenty sharp blades were unsheathed.</p> + +<p>“Now, Mr. O’Brien, take your choice: shall every man have a cut at +you—first a leg, then a hand, then an arm, and so on, until your head +only shall remain—or will you be rolled up in a hammock for a sack, as +your winding-sheet, and, well shotted, sink as a sailor to the bottom of +those waters we have just quitted?”</p> + +<p>“Thank your honour,” said the poor victim of their cruelty, “thank your +honour; and of the two I had rather have neither.”</p> + +<p>There was no smile upon any of the ferocious countenances around him, +and Pat’s hopes of anything but cruelty forsook him. Just at this moment +the bucket descended the well, and in came Will Laud, or Captain Laud, +as he was called, who, acquainted with the fact of the Irishman’s +descent (for he was the very person<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> whom Pat had seen to make his exit, +and had been informed by the woman of his being drowned), was a little +relieved to see the man standing in the midst of his men unscathed.</p> + +<p>He soon understood the position in which he was placed, and, after a few +words with his Lieutenant, John Luff, himself repeated the already +determined sentence of his crew.</p> + +<p>So calm was his voice, so fixed his manner, that the bold Irishman +perceived at once that his doom was at hand. Assuming, therefore, his +wonted courage, making up his mind to death, he looked the commander in +the face, and with the composure of a mind comparatively at ease, said—</p> + +<p>“Since I must die, let me die dacently. My choice is made—the hammock +for my winding-sheet, the water for my grave, and God forgive you all.”</p> + +<p>Not a word more did the brave fellow utter, but stood like a hero, or a +martyr, ready for execution.</p> + +<p>Now to the credit of Laud be it recorded, that in his soul he admired +the intrepidity of the man’s spirit; and murder, base murder of a bold +man, never was his intention.</p> + +<p>He whispered to his mate, though in a moment after he exclaimed to his +crew, “Do your duty.”</p> + +<p>Pat was tripped up, rolled up in the hammock, swung upon the chain, +heard the whistle, and in an instant found himself, as he thought, +descending to the shades below. In fact, however, he was ascending, +though consciousness for a time forsook him, and the swoon of +anticipated suffocation bereft him of his senses. When he did recover, +he found himself at the bottom of a boat, bounding over the billows, and +was soon on board a ship. Here he revived, and was treated by the crew +with kindness; but after many days he was put ashore on the eastern +coast of his own dear isle, with this gentle admonition:—</p> + +<p>“Patrick O’Brien, ‘all’s well that ends well.’ Let well alone for the +future, and now farewell.”</p> + +<p>So ended this spree, which may serve to show the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> mind and habits of +those men with whom Will Laud had to deal.</p> + +<p>At times these desperate men would be mutinous, but their common +interest kept them together. The persons of several were known along the +coast, and farmers found it to their interest to wink at their +peccadilloes.</p> + +<p>It was no uncommon thing for them to have their horses taken out of the +fields, or even out of their stables, for a run at night; but they were +sure of a handsome present being left upon their premises—casks of gin, +real Hollands, packets of linen; and, sometimes learning the thing most +wanted by a particular farmer, he would be surprised to find it directed +to him by an unknown hand, and delivered, without charge, at his door.</p> + +<p>The handsomest saddles and bridles which could be procured, whips, +lamps, lanterns, handsome pairs of candlesticks, guns, pistols, +walking-sticks, pipes, &c., were, at various houses, left as presents. +Such was the state of the traffic, that the best spirits could be always +had at the farm-houses on the coast (for all knew where it might be had +without difficulty), only let the money be left for it with the order. +In this manner was the revenue defrauded; and there were men in high +authority who used to defend the practice by calling it England’s best +nursery for seamen. Seldom, however, were good men secured from these +sources. The generality of smugglers were not such as England wanted to +defend her liberty and laws.</p> + +<p>About this time so many presents were sent to Margaret, and left in such +a clandestine manner at or near the cottage, that although she herself +was never corrupted by any one of these temptations, yet the effects of +them began to show themselves in her family. Charles, the elder brother, +used to find the presents, and dispose of them to Mrs. Cracknell, and he +found his own gains so rapidly increase that he began to be idle; would +not go to plough; disliked working on the land; took to carpentering at +the old sexton’s at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> Nacton; learned to read and write; and again +encouraged his old <i>penchant</i> for soldiering. At length he left his +parents and friends, and enlisted in the 33rd regiment of foot, under +the fictitious name of Jacob Dedham, at the Black Horse public-house, +St. Mary Elm’s, Ipswich. He passed himself off as belonging to that +parish; and but for the accidental circumstance of a Nacton lad, of the +name of Calthorpe, seeing him at the inn, his friends and relatives +would have been ignorant of his departure. His regiment soon after his +enlistment sailed for the East Indies; and the history of Charles +Catchpole, alias Jacob Dedham, would of itself form no uninteresting +narrative. He rose in his regiment by great steadiness and assiduity. He +became a singular adept at learning Eastern languages and customs. He +was taken great notice of by Sir William Jones, the great Oriental +linguist, who recommended him to a very important charge under Lord +Cornwallis, who employed him in a confidential duty, as a spy, upon the +frontiers of Persia. We shall have occasion to contemplate him in a +future part of this history. For the present we pass on to some further +fruits of the smuggler’s intimacy with the Catchpoles.</p> + +<p>Robert, another son, in consequence of the unwholesome introduction of +rapid profits, took to drinking, smoking, and idle company, and very +soon brought himself to an early grave; giving the deepest pangs to his +parents, and creating sorrow and suffering to all. He died of delirium +tremens, in the year 1791.</p> + +<p>James became a poacher, and was shot in a desperate affray with the +gamekeepers of Admiral Vernon. He lingered on his brother’s bed until +December 15th, 1792, and expired in deep distress, and with a +declaration to poor Margaret, that it was her acquaintance with Laud +that brought him to ruin. The youngest son alone preserved any steady +fixed principles, and was the prop of his parents’ hopes.</p> + +<p>The whole family now fell into disrepute, and the bitterest days of +adversity followed. Tales began to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> be circulated of Margaret’s +connexion with the smuggler. Sailors were seen to come and go from the +cottage; and if they went but to ask for information, the lying tongue +of slander was sure to propagate some infamous story. It was true that +presents were left about the cottage, and that agents of the Cracknells +were ready to receive them; but Margaret never touched a single thing +that was so found. She was not insensible to all she saw, and she felt +the full weight of Laud’s misconduct; but she never forgot to pray for +him, and hoped, with that fondness which true love only can know, that +he would one day be converted. But she partook of the ignominy which now +visited her family, though she assuredly did not deserve it. She +recommended her father to take another cottage, and even to seek work +under another master. Anything she considered would be better than a +place where he met with such continual misfortunes.</p> + +<p>It must not be supposed that Mrs. Denton was unkind to Margaret, though +her own servants took every opportunity to persuade her that she was a +very worthless person—she seemed to think a removal would be best. +Accordingly Jonathan Catchpole changed his abode, and, from a regular +workman on that farm, became a jobbing labourer wherever he could find +employment. He and his family lived at a lone cottage on the borders of +Nacton Heath. Edward became a shepherd’s boy, and Margaret had serious +thoughts of once more going out to service; but where? Alas! she +remembered how happy she had been in her first place, and the very +remembrance of that happiness made her shrink from having to relate to +her former benefactor the then miserable consequences of her first +attachment.</p> + +<p>Laud’s father shared in the general stigma attached to his son’s +name—he was accused of conniving at the youth’s excesses, and lost his +situation as ferryman of the government packets from Harwich to Languard +Fort. What miseries, heaped one upon the other, now fell with blighting +force upon poor Margaret!</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>But a greater trial just now awaited her—a dreadful conflict took place +below Felixstowe beach between the coastguard and Laud’s crew. A run was +planned and put in execution from the Walton Marshes for +Woodbridge—carts were brought to the cliff, the coastguard, as was +thought, being attracted to Sizewell Gap, and everything being open +before the smugglers. The cargo was landed, and the run began, when the +preventive-service men, who had been secretly informed of the intended +<i>ruse</i> at Sizewell Gap, came out of their hiding-place in a double band, +headed by Lieutenant Edward Barry, a brave young sailor, second son of +Mr. Henry Barry, a miller and farmer, of Levington Hill. The onset was +tremendous, and the resistance deadly; but might and right were on one +side, and bore down the stalwart forms of the violent smugglers.</p> + +<p>Three of the crew were killed, and the others, unable to stand against +the assault, fled as well as they were able. Young Barry and Laud had a +severe personal encounter, in which the death of one or the other seemed +the determination of both. Laud was the most powerful man, but Barry was +the most expert swordsman; but what was the experience of the sword-arm +in so dark a night? The two commanders seemed to know each other even in +the darkness, for they fought with voices of encouragement to their men. +The smugglers had fled, and Laud began to fear he was alone; but the +pursuers, too, had gone, and still the two captains were contending. At +this moment the contest was most deadly—Laud had wounded young Barry by +a thrust. Though it was slight it was felt by the officer, and he +determined neither to ask nor to give quarter. Laud had driven him up +the side of a bank, and was in the act of giving a thrust at his heart, +as Barry, with the advantage of his situation, like lightning gave a cut +at his head, which at once went through his hat, and descended upon his +forehead. Down fell the smuggler like a thunderbolt, and another moment +the sword would have been buried in his side, had not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> Barry been +compelled to act on the defensive by the opposition of John Luff.</p> + +<p>Finding a new antagonist, and being himself wounded, this young man +thought best to gather up his strength for a defensive retreat. He was +not pursued. Hearing some of his own men he called to them, and, +recognizing him, they advanced with him to the spot where, as Barry +supposed, Captain Laud lay dead. But Luff had thrown him over his +shoulder, and, being well acquainted with the marshes, had carried him +over some planks, and so escaped.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br /><span style="font-size:70%">DECEIT</span></a></h2> + +<p>Margaret was seated in her father’s cottage, now no longer that happy +spot it used to be to her, but a change of abode had brought no rest +from the troubles and anxieties of her mind: that very day she had heard +of the dreadful encounter between the coastguard and the smugglers, and +the report of the death of Will Laud, the notorious commander.</p> + +<p>Margaret heard of her lover’s death, as may be supposed, with the +deepest emotion; but she was not satisfied that the accounts she +received were correct, and had serious intentions of going to the +ferryman’s house to make inquiries for herself, when a rap came at their +lone door, and who should come in but the ferryman himself, the father +of Laud. The old man seemed to observe the altered state of the family +upon whom he intruded himself, and could not help saying, at once,—</p> + +<p>“I bring you bad news, Margaret, very bad, and of my poor boy.” The old +man paused, and Margaret’s heart quailed, but in the next moment it +revived. “But he would have me bring it!”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Is he not dead then?” exclaimed the poor girl, as with a bound, she +seized the aged ferryman by the arm; “is he not dead?”</p> + +<p>“No, not yet—at least he was not when I left him two hours ago, and he +would make me come to you, and tell you he wished earnestly to see you +before he died.”</p> + +<p>“Where is he? where is he?” exclaimed Margaret.</p> + +<p>“At my poor cot on Walton Cliff; but oh, Margaret, so altered, so +dreadfully marked, and so unhappy, that if you do see him I question +much if you will know him. But will you come and see him?”</p> + +<p>“Will I?—that I will! Only you sit down and eat a bit, and I will soon +be ready.”</p> + +<p>It took but a short space of time for Margaret to make preparation for +her journey. Laud was alive, though ill, dangerously ill; still she +might be the means of restoring him, if not to health of body, at least +to a more healthy state of mind. She is ready, and the old man and +Margaret depart together.</p> + +<p>“Is he much hurt?” was Margaret’s first question, after they had +advanced beyond the heath on to the high-road; “is he much wounded?”</p> + +<p>“I fear he is. At times he is like a madman, raving at everything, +cursing all smugglers and his own misfortunes. The fever is high upon +him; he glares wildly at the old woman I have got to do for him—calls +her a smuggler’s hag; and then he mentions you, Margaret, and the tears +roll down his face, and he finds relief. His wound is on the forehead—a +deep gash, through the bone; and the pain he suffers from the dressing +is dreadful.”</p> + +<p>“Have you had a surgeon?”</p> + +<p>“No, Margaret, no—I dare not: I fear lest he should betray himself. His +life would be forfeit to his country’s outraged laws, and he would die a +more bitter death than now awaits him in my cot.”</p> + +<p>There ran a sensitive shudder through poor Margaret’s frame as she +thought of the situation of her lover. Parental affection had been more +cautious than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> she would have been, and she secretly rejoiced. She +thought likewise of her own situation; but selfishness had no portion in +her soul. Laud might die! The thought was agonizing; but he would die, +perhaps, a true penitent. This was surely better than being suddenly +sent out of the world with all his sins upon his head. She felt thankful +for so much mercy.</p> + +<p>“Does he ever seem sorry for his crimes?” she inquired of the old man.</p> + +<p>“I cannot exactly say he does,” was the reply, “though he speaks so +vehemently against his captain. I wish he saw his situation in a more +forcible light.”</p> + +<p>“Time may be given him for that yet, Mr. Laud; at least, I pray God it +may be so.”</p> + +<p>“Amen, say I; amen!”</p> + +<p>“How did he find you out? How did he reach home?”</p> + +<p>“He was brought here upon a comrade’s back, a stout sailor, who came +accompanied by old Dame Mitchel, who, if report speaks truth, is well +acquainted with the smugglers. She says that John Luff, the captain’s +mate, brought poor Will to her house; and when he learned that I was +living only half a mile off, he persuaded her to come and help me to do +for him. He brought him to me at night.”</p> + +<p>With conversation of this kind, the father and the maiden pursued their +course till they arrived at a very sequestered cottage, near the ruins +of Walton Castle, close to that celebrated spot where the Earl of +Leicester landed with his Flemings in <span class="smcap">A.D.</span> 1173. “It stood upon a high +cliff, about the distance of a mile from the mouth of the Woodbridge +haven, two miles from the Orwell. At this time but few stones mark the +spot. There is little doubt that it was a Roman fortification, as a +great many urns, rings, coins, and torques, have been found in that +neighbourhood. It is supposed to have been built by Constantine the +Great when he withdrew his legions from the frontier towns in the east +of Britain, and built forts or castles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> to supply the want of them.” So +says the old <i>Suffolk Traveller</i>.</p> + +<p>Our travellers arrived at this lone cottage, where a faint, glimmering +light from the low window told that the watch was still kept at the sick +man’s bed. The father entered first, and soon returned, telling Margaret +that she might come in, as sleep, for the first time since the night he +had been brought home, had overpowered Laud’s senses.</p> + +<p>By the faint gleam of that miserable light, Margaret perceived how +dreadfully altered were the features of her lover. He lay in a heavy, +hard-breathing, lethargic sleep, and the convulsive movements of his +limbs, and a restless changing of the position of his arms, told that, +however weary the body, the spirit was in a very agitated state; and, +oh! how deadly, how livid was his countenance! Scarcely could Margaret +think it the same she had been accustomed to look upon with so much +pleasure: the brow was distorted with pain, the lips scorched with +fever—a stiff white moisture exuded from his closed eyelids. A painful +moan escaped his heaving chest, and at last he surprised the listeners +by a sudden painful cry.</p> + +<p>“Margaret, ahoy! Margaret, ahoy! Hullo! hullo! Don’t run away. Here, +here! I want you!”</p> + +<p>And then his limbs moved, just as if he was in the act of running after +some one.</p> + +<p>The fever was evidently high upon him, and poor Margaret was herself +greatly afflicted at seeing his extreme suffering. She gave way to +tears, which affected the poor father so much that the old man could not +refrain from weeping. The woman alone seemed composed; as if she had +been accustomed to scenes of horror, she exhibited no signs of +tenderness or concern. She continued to mumble a piece of brown bread +which she held in her hand, lifting up her brows from time to time, and +darting her sharp grey eyes, first at the smuggler, then at the girl, +and then at the old man, but without uttering or seeming to hear a word, +or to feel a single human emotion.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<p>As she looked upon her, a thought shot through Margaret’s brain of no +very friendly nature toward the singular being before her—she could not +help thinking that this Moggy Mitchel was a sort of spy upon her lover. +How keen, how quick, how apprehensive is true love!</p> + +<p>To prove that Margaret’s suspicion was not altogether groundless, that +very night the old woman went out of the house, under pretence of seeing +what sort of night it was; and as Margaret sat watching by the bedside +of Laud, the moon, which was just rising above the summit of the cliff, +showed her, through the lattice, two dark figures standing together. She +could not, of course, distinguish their features, but the outlines of +their forms were very strong, and not to be mistaken—she was sure it +was John Luff and Dame Mitchel, and that they were in close conversation +on the verge of the cliff.</p> + +<p>The old woman shortly returned to the room, and it was evident to +Margaret that something had excited her.</p> + +<p>“We must get him well as soon as we can,” were the first words she +uttered; and had not her former coolness and her late meeting upon the +cliff awakened in Margaret’s mind some sinister motive prompting this +speech, she might have been deceived by it.</p> + +<p>Margaret had the deepest and purest motives for desiring the young man’s +restoration to health: she loved him, and she hoped to re-establish his +character, and to recover him not only from his sick-bed, but from his +state of degradation. But in all her efforts she found herself +frustrated by the interference of this beldame, who, as William +progressed towards recovery, was constantly keeping alive within him +some reports of the successes of the crew, of their kind inquiries after +his health, and the hopes they had of soon seeing him among them. +Independently of this, there came presents and compliments from Captain +Bargood, and these increased as Laud recovered.</p> + +<p>Nothing so much stung Margaret’s heart as to find<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> that all her +attentions, prayers, entreaties, and admonitions, were counteracted by +the secret influences of these agencies; but her object was a righteous +one, and she did not slacken in her endeavours to attain it. She found, +as Laud gradually recovered, that he was fully sensible of his past +folly, and quite alive to the devoted affection she had shown to him; +but she found also that no touch of religious feeling blended with his +regret for his past conduct.</p> + +<p>This gave her the deepest pang, for she would rather have heard him +offer one thanksgiving to the Being to whom all thanks are due, than +find herself the object of his praise and gratitude.</p> + +<p>It was at this time that Margaret wished she had been a scholar. There +was a Bible in the cottage, an old black-letter edition, containing the +Book of Common Prayer, the genealogies recorded in the sacred +Scriptures, together with the Psalms of David, in metre, by Sternhold +and Hopkins, with curious old diamond-headed notes of the tunes to each +psalm.</p> + +<p>Margaret would gladly have read the holy book to her lover, but she +might as well have had a Hebrew edition before her, for not a word could +she decipher. He could read, and her only way of inducing him so to do +was by expressing her desire to hear him read. She found this, however, +a difficult and dangerous task, for, independently of the distaste which +the old woman had to the Bible, she found her lover very restless and +feverish after any exertion of the kind. Where the spirit is unwilling, +how irksome is the task!</p> + +<p>“How plain is that description you read to me this morning of our first +parents’ fall,” said Margaret one day, when the enemy was absent: “how +plainly it shows us the necessity of our denying ourselves anything and +everything which God has forbidden us!”</p> + +<p>“It does, indeed, Margaret; but no man can help sinning!”</p> + +<p>“I doubt that—I think Adam could have done so.”</p> + +<p>“Then why did he sin, Margaret?”</p> + +<p>“You read to me, that the woman tempted him or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> persuaded him, and that +the serpent beguiled her into sin: so that the serpent was the author of +sin.”</p> + +<p>“Yes: and the woman was first deceived, and then deceived her husband. +You must admit that she was the worst of the two.”</p> + +<p>“I own that she was, and is the weakest; but her sorrows appear to have +been the greater, and she has been little better than a slave to man +ever since.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Margaret, well, you have been very kind to me, and I know now +that you are a good girl, and wish me to be good. I wish I may be +better.”</p> + +<p>“Do not only wish it, dear William, but pray to God to make you so, and +I do think that He will.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well, I will be better—yes, I will, if I get over this blow on +the head; but oh, how it aches! You must not bewilder me too much.”</p> + +<p>So did this interesting conversation cease, by the man’s appeal to his +want of strength, when he was asserting a will of his own, which, though +bold in words, was but fickle in actions.</p> + +<p>Every day, as her patient advanced towards recovery, was poor Margaret +more and more convinced that Laud wanted stability of purpose to resist +evil,—he was, like every passionate man, self-willed and wicked. +Margaret, though at this time uneducated, had been a very attentive +listener to all good instruction—she was far from being ignorant of +right and wrong. Her principles were good, and through her most eventful +years she exhibited but one great error, which was her blind passion for +the unhappy man whom she would have made, if she could, a better being; +and every day she found a more persevering enemy in Mrs. Mitchel, who +counteracted all her salutary influence with Laud. Silent and morose as +this woman was at times, she could be loquacious enough when it suited +her own purpose.</p> + +<p>“I have,” said she, one day, “just left a choice set of fellows upon the +beach, as merry a set, Will, as I ever saw, and all rejoicing in your +improvement. Luff<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> holds your office until you join them again. They +have had fine success lately, since young Barry is laid by the leg. I +have brought you a box of raisins, and such a choice can of sweetmeats, +as a present from the captain.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! they are all good fellows, but I do not think that I shall ever +join them again.”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw, my lad! this is only a love-fit for the moment.” (Margaret was +absent upon an errand.) “If that girl does not know what it is to have a +high-spirited young fellow like yourself for a lover, without making him +a poor, tame, milk-and-water poodle, why then she ought to make herself +always as scarce as she is at this moment. I have no patience with the +girl—she does not know her own interest. I suppose she would have you +stick to the plough’s tail, or toil all day at the spade, and bring her +home a hard-earned pittance at the week’s-end. Pshaw! Will, you are +formed for better things.”</p> + +<p>“But she’s a good girl, Moggy,” said Will.</p> + +<p>“Oh, aye! the girl is well enough, and decent too. I don’t mean to say +she would not make a chap a good sort of wife either, but she’s not the +sort of girl for you, Will. She’s no spirit about her. She don’t see how +a young fellow like you can do better by her, in a bold, dashing way, +than by such tame, dull, plodding industry as her family use.”</p> + +<p>“No; but then she wishes to see me happy, and I might be popped off the +next skirmish.”</p> + +<p>“You always look on the black side of things. Here are your fellows +making their fortunes rapidly, and you talking of drudging on, in a +quiet, stupid way, with the chance of being informed against and +executed for your past doings. Young Barry won’t easily forgive you.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I him, either,” was the significant reply, with a clenching of the +fist and a grinding of the teeth, which proved how artfully the hag had +worked upon Laud’s worst feelings.</p> + +<p>Margaret, on her return, could perceive that her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> absence had been taken +advantage of to effect a purpose adverse to all her hopes.</p> + +<p>Against all these disadvantages, however, Margaret combated with some +success, and by degrees had the happiness of seeing her patient get the +better of his sufferings. The wound would have healed sooner and better, +had Laud’s mind been kept free from feverish excitement. It did heal up, +though not so well as Margaret wished—a frightful scar extended over +the <i>os frontis</i>, directly to the high cheek-bone. For a long time the +eye seemed as if it had perished, but as the fever abated its sight +returned.</p> + +<p>It will be sufficient to record, that in due time Laud perfectly +recovered, and the services of his nurses became no longer necessary.</p> + +<p>If at this time any situation had offered itself by which Laud could +have gained an honest livelihood, he would, probably, have accepted it, +and become an honest man; and in talking with Margaret of his future +life, he promised that she should never again hear of anything against +him. He would go to sea, and earn an honest livelihood, even if he was +obliged to serve a foreigner.</p> + +<p>“Well, Laud, I will trust you again,” said Margaret, on the day she took +her leave of him: “I will trust you again, William, though my heart +aches bitterly at parting with you, whilst you have no regular +employment, but I shall pray for you wherever I am. I shall probably go +to service soon, for I do not like to be a burden to my friends.”</p> + +<p>They parted affectionately, for Laud felt that he owed his life to her +care; and she, that all her hopes of future comfort in this life were +centred in his welfare. Yet that very night did William Laud meet his +former comrades, and was persuaded to join their crew at the Bawdsey +Cave, to assume the name of Hudson, and to become again neither more nor +less than a desperate smuggler.</p> + +<p>We will not follow him through his career of guilt: suffice it to say, +that he contrived to send word to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> Margaret that he had entered into the +service of a Dutch trader, and was promised a future share of his ship. +He pretended to have quitted the society of the smugglers, who at that +time so infested the eastern coasts of this country; and as she heard no +more of his name, and received no more suspicious presents, she suffered +her heart to cherish the fond hope of his reformation.</p> + +<p>The anticipation of days to come, and the promised pleasure of those +days, are always greater than are ever realized by mortals. It is, +however, one of the greatest blessings of life to anticipate good. The +hope, too, of another’s welfare, and of being the humble instrument of +promoting the interest of another, is the sweetest bond of woman’s +cherished affection. Truly may such be termed man’s helpmate, who would +do him good, and not evil, all the days of his life.</p> + +<p>Poor Margaret found, that the more she hoped for Laud’s amendment, the +more constant became her attachment, the more she excused his past life, +and the more deeply her heart became engaged to him.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br /><span style="font-size:70%">WILD SCENES</span></a></h2> + +<p>Margaret, true to her intentions of going to service, found a kind +friend in Mrs. Denton, who recommended her to Mrs. Wake, of the Priory +Farm, Downham Reach. Here, in September, 1792, she took up her abode as +servant-of-all-work. The whole farm-house was formerly the priory of a +small body of Augustine Monks, and was known by the name of the +Alneshbourne Priory. It is surrounded by a moat of considerable depth +and breadth, and was formerly approached by a drawbridge from the +southern side.</p> + +<p>The site of this old house is still a most romantic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> and sequestered +spot. In front of it, along a pleasant green slope to the shore, runs a +rippling stream, which having passed through the moat, meanders along +the meadow down to the Orwell, whose broad waters look here like a +magnificent lake.</p> + +<p>On either side of the valley rise the rich woods of Downham Reach; and +behind the house, in the green meadows, may still be seen, though now +covered in with a roof and used as a barn, the chapel of this +sequestered fraternity.</p> + +<p>Lofty elms overshadow the summit of this ancient house, though they grow +upon the open space beyond the moat; and the woods of the owner of the +present house and the district, Sir Philip Broke, stand conspicuously +towering on the sides of the hills. The lover of peaceful nature could +not fail to be struck with the tranquil yet picturesque scenery around +this spot. Here Gainsborough, who, in his younger days, was much +encouraged by Dr. Coyte of Ipswich, loved to roam, and catch the +ever-varying tints of spring and autumn. Here Constable,—the +enthusiastic, amiable, but pensive John Constable, one of the best of +England’s landscape-painters,—indulged himself in all the hopes of his +aspiring genius; and Frost, a native of Ipswich, one of the best +imitators of Gainsborough’s style, and whose sketches are at this day +most highly esteemed, used to indulge himself in the full enjoyment of +his art.</p> + +<p>At the period we write of—the year 1792—the Orwell’s waves went boldly +up to the port, as new and briny as in the days of the Danish invasion. +Now they no longer wash the town. A wet-dock, with its embankments and +its locks, shuts out the ebb and flow of waters, and may be convenient +to the inhabitants of the place; but sadly interferes with the early +associations and recollections of those who, like the writer of this +narrative, passed their boyish years upon the banks of the Orwell.</p> + +<p>But we must no longer wander from our narrative. Margaret, as servant at +the Priory Farm, conducted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> herself in so exemplary a manner, that she +soon gained the good will of her master and mistress, and the good word +of all the labourers upon the farm. Amongst these latter was a young man +who was particularly acquainted with Margaret’s history, and whose name +has occurred in a previous chapter. This was no other than John Barry, +the elder brother of young Edward Barry, who so gallantly led the attack +upon the smugglers on the night in which Will Laud was supposed to have +been killed. John was well aware of Margaret’s attachment and engagement +to Will Laud; and he knew the part his brother had taken in the +conflict; and believed, as Edward told him, that he had slain Margaret’s +lover. Whether it was the sympathy which arose toward the poor girl +under these circumstances, or the real pleasure which he felt in her +society, it is certain that he became so deeply enamoured as never to be +able to root out of his mind this his first and last attachment.</p> + +<p>This young man was a contrast in every respect to Will Laud. John Barry +was the elder son of a small farmer and miller at Levington, who, having +a numerous family, was anxious they should all be employed. John, as was +customary in that day, sought employment away from his parents’ house. +He had asked their permission to let him turn his hand to farming for a +year; and as he was already a good ploughman, and understood the various +methods of culture, he readily found an employer. He was also as good a +scholar for that period as could be found in any of the adjoining +parishes. Added to this, he was a good-principled, steady, persevering, +industrious young man. His father was not badly off in the world for his +station. He it was who first discovered the use of crag-shells for +manure. His man, Edmund Edwards, finding a load or two of manure was +wanted to complete the fertilization of a field which Mr. Barry +cultivated, carried a load or two of the crag, which lay near the mill, +to make it up. He observed, that in the very place which he thought +would prove the worst crop, on account of the seeming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> poverty of the +soil carted, there arose the most luxuriant produce. Next year Mr. Barry +used it more freely, and found a more abundant recompense. He then +opened immense crag-pits, supplied the country around, and shipped a +large quantity at Levington Creek. By these means he became known as an +enterprising man. His second son took to the sea, and became active in +the service of his native coast. Another son went out to America, and +did remarkably well.</p> + +<p>John went as head man to Mr. Wake, of the Priory Farm. When he left his +father’s house, the worthy miller gave him one guinea, with this +advice—</p> + +<p>“Many a man, John, has entered into the world with less than that, and +by industry, integrity, and good behaviour, has risen to usefulness and +respectability; and many a man, John, who has entered upon life with +thousands and thousands of those shining coins, has sunk to +worthlessness and degradation. Go, boy; be honest, sober, steady, and +diligent. Keep your church and God’s commandments, John, and you will +prosper. But should misfortune ever visit you, remember that whilst your +mother and I live you will always find a welcome home. God bless you, +boy! God bless you!”</p> + +<p>John left home, with a guinea in his pocket and with love in his heart. +He did well, even in his first situation. He lived in the farm-house +with Mr. and Mrs. Wake, about seven miles from his father’s house. He +did not then dream that he should ever visit any distant shore connected +with his native country. His dreams were of home, industry, and peace. +He had enough—was contented—was well respected; had good health and +full employment, and was a burden to no one. From his constant habit of +witnessing the energy, and activity, and good disposition of the +youthful Margaret, and from a certain knowledge of her past misfortunes, +he imbibed a delicacy of interest in her behalf, which was shown to her +by repeated acts of respect, which others on the farm less delicate did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +not care to show. Margaret herself perceived these attentions, and felt +grateful to him for them. Whilst some would now and then relate what +they heard of the wild adventures of Hudson the smuggler, John Barry +always carefully concealed any mention of matters which he could see +gave her pain. So cautious had been his advances towards a more intimate +acquaintance with Margaret, that no one on the farm suspected that John +Barry, the son of the well-to-do Mr. Barry, of Levington, was in the +least captivated by the humble maid of the Priory. Margaret, however, +suspected and dreaded that such might be the case; and she avoided him +as pointedly as she could, without offence to one whom she so much +respected. Barry, however, was too honest to conceal his feelings from +the only person he wished to know them. Returning one evening from work +along Gainsborough’s Lane, he met Margaret, who had been to Sawyer’s +farm upon an errand for her mistress.</p> + +<p>“Margaret, you know I love you,” said the young man, “though I do not +believe that any one upon the farm besides yourself has any idea of it.”</p> + +<p>“I feared you did, John, and it grieves me very much to hear you say +so.”</p> + +<p>“But why should it grieve you? I love you honestly, and will always do +my best to make you happy.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, John, I do not doubt you in anything you say, and I feel very +grateful to you for your kindness; but I cannot return your love.”</p> + +<p>“Why not, Margaret? Why should you not learn to like me? I am not indeed +like your former lover, but I think I love you quite as well.”</p> + +<p>“That may be also, John; but when I tell you that it is impossible for +me to suffer you to cherish such feelings, you will, I hope, not be +angry with me.”</p> + +<p>“I am not angry: I know your past attachment; but I hope that you do not +intend to live and die single because Laud is dead.”</p> + +<p>“No; but whilst he lives, John, I neither can nor ought to give +encouragement to any other.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>“But he is dead!”</p> + +<p>“I would let any one else but yourself suppose so.”</p> + +<p>“My brother Edward told me himself that he saw him fall.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, John, and your brother Edward thought that he gave him his +death-blow; but I am happy, for his sake and for Laud’s, that it was not +so.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sure of this?” sighed the youth, as if he half regretted that +his brother had not done so. “Are you sure of this?”</p> + +<p>“Quite so—quite so! To no one else would I speak it, but I am sure of +your goodness. I know you will not betray me.”</p> + +<p>“Never, Margaret, never!”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, these very hands healed the wound which your brother gave +him. I myself nursed him through his dangerous illness; and I know at +this time that he is in a respectable foreign merchant’s service, and as +well as ever he was.”</p> + +<p>This was a tremendous blow to the young man’s prospects; an answer which +he did not in the least expect, and from which he could find no +encouragement. He begged Margaret’s pardon for what he had said, which +was freely given, and a promise made on both sides never to divulge that +day’s secret. Alas! this promise was broken by both, as we shall +presently see, at the very same moment.</p> + +<p>But where is Laud, and what is he doing at this time? While the +honest-hearted girl is denying all attachment to any but himself, and +living upon the hope of his future welfare and well-doing, what is <i>he</i> +about?</p> + +<p>He is standing at the Green Cottage, as it was called, on account of the +green shutters which used to shade its casements, close to Butley Abbey. +The dark-frowning ruin of this seat of the black canons of St. Austin, +formerly so grand and extensive, was then in a state of crumbling +desolation. Here, close against that magnificent old gateway, seemingly +in mock grandeur, was a very fine arch, surmounted with the arms of +Michael de la Pole, the third Lord Wingfield,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> Earl of Suffolk, who was +slain at the battle of Agincourt with Edward Plantagenet, Duke of York.</p> + +<p>Not far from these ruins, with a mind somewhat partaking of the darkness +of that desolation, stood Laud and Luff in close conversation; the +subject of which was no other than Margaret Catchpole!</p> + +<p>Luff had found out Laud’s deep-rooted fancy for the maiden, and, villain +as he was, was proposing a deep-laid scheme for the destruction of the +poor girl, who at that very time was undergoing a severe trial of her +affection.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what, Laud, the thing is easily to be done. We have +nothing to do but to run the cutter, at the beginning of our next +voyage, into Harwich Harbour, at the fall of the evening, when the mists +hide us from the shore; you and I can run up the Orwell in the gig, and +soon carry off the prize. Once on board, and she is yours as long as you +like.”</p> + +<p>“I think I shall leave the service and marry.”</p> + +<p>“And get a halter for your pains! No, Will; no, my boy; you are made of +sterner stuff than that. What! for the sake of a girl whom you may have +for many a cruise, and who will like you all the better for your spirit, +would you consent to run the land-robber’s risk of being hanged? You +will soon have a new cutter, and your old crew; and though we may have a +long voyage, surely it will be far better to have your damsel with you, +though she may be unwilling at first, than to be living ashore in +continual fear of the officers of justice.”</p> + +<p>“But Margaret supposes me at this moment in a foreign ship, and in an +honest trader.”</p> + +<p>“Let her think so still. Only once get her on board the <i>Stour</i>, and +never trust me if we don’t quickly run over to Holland, get you decently +married, and you may settle with her on shore in a short time.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Luff, I think it might be done, and fairly, too; and if it be, +you shall have half my share of the prize upon the next run.”</p> + +<p>“’Tis a bargain—’tis a bargain! and when we next<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> meet in Bawdsey Cave, +our first trip shall be for the harbour. In the meantime, let us enjoy +ourselves as we can.”</p> + +<p>The Green Cottage just mentioned, was one of those places hired by +Captain Bargood, on the eastern coast, which was always kept neat, and +ready for his occupation, by a dame whom he permitted to live in it +rent-free, and paid her something extra too for housekeeping. This was a +place of resort for his captains when out of immediate employ, when his +ships were repairing or building, at home or abroad. The method he took +to secure their services, and to keep them in readiness for the sea, was +to initiate them into the mysteries of poaching when on land.</p> + +<p>So well did this bold fellow play his cards, that his men seldom wanted +employment.</p> + +<p>Game they always had, in season or out of season—no matter—they stuck +at nothing! If they wished for a good custard at Whitsuntide, and made +of the richest eggs, they would have pheasants’ and partridges’ eggs by +hundreds. In fact these smugglers were as well known for poachers by +many of the people on the coast, as they were for dealers in contraband +goods. They, too, enjoyed the keen zest of the sportsman in a tenfold +manner, if the excitement of the field, the danger of the enterprise, +and the success of the sport, be any criterion by which the pleasure of +such things may be estimated.</p> + +<p>Tame, indeed, they considered the turn-out of the Marquis of Hertford, +with his green-brogued keepers, and their double-barrelled guns and +brushes, for a walk, or rather a stand, at the end of a plantation, +where the pheasants rose in a shower, and were killed like barn-door +fowls. They often saw the noble sportsmen turn into those coverts, +against which they knew they had been such successful poachers the very +night before.</p> + +<p>If hairbreadth escapes, contests with keepers, making nets, snares, and +gins, were amusements to these fellows, they had enough of them. They +could, upon occasion,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> bribe an unsteady keeper, or make him drunk, and +go his beat for him. All manner of desperate adventures were their +pleasures. Sometimes their society was courted by farmers and others, +who chanced to know, and would occasionally entertain them. Their +knowledge of all that was going on in and out of the country made them +welcome visitors to others; and in a very dangerous period of our +struggle at Flushing, when an order from the coast was to be carried in +spite of danger and difficulty, the intelligence and spirit of these men +were made use of by some in power, who could never countenance them +openly.</p> + +<p>One instance of a singular kind of frolic may here be mentioned, which +might have been of serious consequence to a young man of fortune.</p> + +<p>This gentleman resided in his own house, and upon his own estate, not +far from Hollesley Bay; and though possessed of many broad acres, +abundantly supplied with every species of game common to that country, +yet, singularly enough, he was an exception to that prevalent habit of +all country gentlemen—the being a sportsman. The writer of these pages +has often heard him narrate the following facts:—</p> + +<p>Laud, or rather Hudson, as he was then called (for Laud was generally +supposed to be dead), met this young man at the Boyton Alms-houses, when +the following conversation arose:—</p> + +<p>“Good morning to you, captain. But little stirring at sea, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>“We’re ashore awhile upon a cruise.”</p> + +<p>“So I suppose. What tack do you go upon tonight?”</p> + +<p>“That I know not, sir; but not hereabouts. We shall probably run down to +Orford.”</p> + +<p>“I know you are all good hands. I never went sporting in my life, and +never saw any poaching. Now, captain, it’s no use being qualmish upon +the subject, but upon my word I should like to see how you poachers +manage to take your game. You need not fear that I should inform against +you, or take advantage of your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> secrets—for I am no sportsman, as you +know, and care as little about game as any man; but I have heard so much +of your adroitness, and of the methodical manner in which you proceed, +that I really should like to see it. Come, what shall I give you to take +me with you to-night?”</p> + +<p>The smuggler looked at him with a very significant countenance, as much +as to say, “Are you in earnest? May I trust you?” It was very few he +thought he could trust; but there was a simplicity and honesty, a +straight-forward singleness of mind, and such a real, truthful +heartiness of character about the young man, that a far less shrewd man +than Laud could see there was no danger in him. So far from ever +intending evil to any one, he was kind even to a fault: witness his very +treatment of such a man as Laud. He had often seen him about his +marshes, or along the river’s side, or in the village, or upon the +heath. He knew what Hudson was; and like many others in that retired +country, became an occasional talker with him, even upon the subject of +smuggling. He knew that his own horses came in for a share of +night-work, as well as his neighbours’; but he always found himself well +treated by the smugglers, and frequently acknowledged the receipt of +some acceptable present. He knew the habits of poaching which these +seamen enjoyed ashore, and he never interrupted them. His own lands were +always abounding in game for his friends, and he never knew that they +were poached.</p> + +<p>“Well, captain, what say you? Will you take me?”</p> + +<p>“That I will, with all my heart. Where will you meet me?”</p> + +<p>“Where you like. Where shall it be?”</p> + +<p>“Suppose my messmate and I call you at eleven o’clock? We can take a +glass of grog with you, and perhaps use your own cart and horse. We +shall most likely go to Iken or Orford. But I will see my mate, and have +everything arranged, and be with you by eleven.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p>The honest bachelor who had made this appointment with Laud and Luff, +had no idea of his temerity and of the danger of the deed. He saw only, +for the time, a certain mystery, which he wished to see unravelled, and +forgot all the penalties the law attached to it.</p> + +<p>Our worthy bachelor received his two promising visitors at eleven +o’clock, having first sent every servant to bed, and parted with an aged +mother, who was ignorant, blessedly ignorant, of her son’s movements at +such a time of night; Laud and Luff were let into the house; they came, +partook of his good cheer, and then opened upon the subject of their +campaign.</p> + +<p>They told him their intention to have a drag over some of the stubbles +of the Marquis of Hertford’s estate, between Iken and Orford, and they +instructed him in the plan of operation. Five men were to meet them in +the lane leading down into Iken Wood: they carried a net capable of +covering four furrows. Not a single word must be spoken. Five would drag +in front, and three behind; one was to hold the check-string, by which +an alarm was conveyed to every one who had hold of the net. In case of a +sudden jerk at this string, each person dropped his hold of the net, and +ran for the nearest hedge, where he concealed himself until he heard the +signal to join forces again, which signal was for that night the crowing +of a cock. When by sundry kicks in the net they found that game was +enclosed, they were to drop the net, at the sound of a small reed +whistle, so low as only to be heard by those who were at a short +distance. As the young host was only a novice, it was proposed that he +should take his station between Hudson and Luff, his two visitors.</p> + +<p>After all proper hints had been repeated, and these worthies had +sufficiently regaled themselves, they all went to the cart-lodge; took +out the market-cart, harnessed the old chestnut gelding, something +between a cart-horse and a roadster, and off they started for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> as novel +an expedition as ever any man of fortune undertook.</p> + +<p>Will the reader believe that a man of good character—aye, and as +honest, upright, good-natured, kind-hearted, and benevolent a man, as +any of his rank and condition—a man of an intelligent and unwarped +mind—and one who through life was looked upon as good a neighbour as +could be—should so forget himself as to trust his reputation, his +honour—his very life and happiness (for at that time the Game Laws were +very severe), between two as great rascals as ever stole a head of game, +or shot a fellow-creature, in the frenzy of their career?</p> + +<p>The reader must imagine a man far above all want, and with every +blessing which an abundant fortune could supply, without any idea of +intending an affront to the lord of Orford, or any of his affluent +neighbours, seated in his own luggage-cart, with his very name written +in large letters, X. Y. Z., Esq., with his place of abode upon it! He +must imagine such a man, trusting himself between two notorious +characters merely for the spree of the moment, and purely for the sake +of curiosity running the risk of losing his character and his liberty, +and yet without a thought of his danger. Yet the tale is as true as it +is strange. Had not the writer heard the subject of it often declare the +fact, he should have believed it impossible.</p> + +<p>They are off, however, and Luff is the driver. As if acquainted with his +horse, and the horse with him, they went at a rate which astonished even +the owner of the animal. He had said, “Let me drive, for I understand +his humour"; but he found that another understood his own horse as well +as himself. This brute was like a donkey in one respect. Except you gave +him a jerk with the rein, and at the same time gave a rap on the sides +of the cart, you could not get him to move. What, then, was the surprise +of the Squire to find that a stranger could make the old horse go as +well as he could. But not a word was to be spoken—so in silence he +brooded over the singular knowledge of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> his coachman, and gave him +credit for his driving, which he richly deserved. It was evident the old +horse had been in his hands before that night. On they went through +Boyton, Butley, the borders of Eyke, to the lane leading down to Orford. +Here at a certain gate they stopped, and on the other side of the hedge +were the five men with the net. The old horse was tied to the gate, the +net unrolled, spread out, and, without a single word being spoken, each +man took his station.</p> + +<p>It was just the dawning of the morn, when they could hear the old cock +pheasants crowing to their mates, to come down from their perches to +feed. A rustling wind favoured the work; a large barley stubble was +before them, lying with a slope up to the famous preserve of Iken Wood.</p> + +<p>As they proceeded onward, sundry kicks in the net told of the captured +game, which was regularly and dexterously bagged, by the leading man +passing on to the net to the place of fluttering, and wringing the necks +of the said partridges, pheasants, hares, rabbits, or whatever they +were; then passing them along the meshes to the head of the net, whence +they were safely deposited in the different game-bags of the foremen.</p> + +<p>That this sport was as much enjoyed by these men as that enjoyed by the +best shot in the land; that these fellows were as expert in their +movements and as experienced as Colonel Hawker himself, and as bold as +any foxhunter in the country, is quite true.</p> + +<p>There was one in that party whose courage was soon put to the test, +after a fashion which he little calculated upon, and never forgot.</p> + +<p>After having bagged a considerable quantity of game, and swept several +acres of stubble, they were ascending the middle of the field, toward +the covert, when a sudden violent check of the alarm-string, which ran +from one to the other, told that they must drop the net, and be off. Off +they ran, helter-skelter, as fast as they could, to the nearest fence.</p> + +<p>The Squire’s heart was in his throat, and his courage<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> in his heels, as, +with unwonted speed, he ran for his life to the fence. Into brake and +briar, amidst nettles and thistles, brambles and thorns, dashed the hero +of the night, with his top-boots sticking plounce into the mud, and, for +the life of him, not daring to extricate them, for fear of his being +heard and taken by the gamekeepers. The water oozed coolly over the +tops, conveying a gentle moisture to his feverish skin, and proving no +small consolation for his exertions.</p> + +<p>There he lay in a dreadful fright, expecting every instant some stout +keeper’s hand to seize him by the shoulders, and lug him out of his +hiding-place. Then it was for the first moment that he felt the +awkwardness of his situation. Reflection told him his danger. Though he +durst scarcely breathe, he felt his heart beat tumultuously against his +chest, at the thought of his folly and the possibility of detection.</p> + +<p>“Oh, what a fool I am,” thought he, “to run the risk of transportation +for such a freak! My name is on my cart; it is my horse, and the fellows +will swear they were in my employ. On me will be visited the vengeance +of the law. Lord Hertford will never forgive me. I shall have all the +magistrates, squires, noblemen, gentlemen, gamekeepers, and watchers up +in arms against me; and all for what?—for a foolish curiosity, which I +have thus gratified at the expense of my character. Oh! if I get out of +this scrape, never, never will I get into such a one again!”</p> + +<p>In the midst of these painful impressions, the Squire’s heart was +gladdened by the cheerful sound of “bright chanticleer.” Never did cock +crow with a pleasanter sound than that good imitation, which told that +the coast was clear.</p> + +<p>Some time did the Squire hesitate whether he should join the sport +again, and a still longer time did it take him to extricate his boots +from the mud, for he came out of the ditch minus the right leg covering, +and, after sundry tugs, and, when out, sundry shakings, &c., to turn out +the water, and then, as may be supposed, no small difficulty in getting +it on again, he managed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> join his companions, who had almost felt +persuaded that he had totally decamped. The cause of this alarm was a +poor unfortunate jackass, which had strayed from the lane into the +stubble, and which, standing with his head and ears erect, had presented +to the foreman the appearance of a determined gamekeeper.</p> + +<p>A few more acres were dragged, more game secured, and the party once +more safely seated in the cart. Two sacks of game lay in the bottom of +the vehicle, which were both deposited (saving one bagful for the host) +at the Green Cottage at Butley Moor. What a happy man was that host, +when, after all his dangers, he found himself again within his own +doors! happier still, when, after entertaining his free companions, +whose jokes upon his expressions of joy at escape were amusing enough to +them, though painfully interesting to himself; happier still was he, +when, at four o’clock in the morn, he let them out of his house, and +bade poachers and poaching good-bye for ever!</p> + +<p>Nineteen beautiful cock pheasants were hung up in his larder; but so +ashamed was the Squire of their being seen there, that, before he +retired to his own bed, he put them all into a box, with hay, &c., and +directed them to Mr. Thomas Page, his wine-merchant, in London. His +<i>spolia opima</i> were not mentioned till years had in some measure worn +off the rust of danger, and then he gave his friends and neighbours +reason to rejoice in his adventure, and that he had escaped +transportation.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br /><span style="font-size:70%">HARVEST-HOME</span></a></h2> + + +<p>It was the evening before Harvest-Home, September 29, 1793, that a +sailor called at the back-door of the Priory Farm, Downham Reach, to ask +for a draught of fresh water. It was no uncommon thing for sailors to +call for such a purpose. Downham Reach was the nearest point at which +ships of large tonnage would usually anchor, and shift their cargoes in +lighters for the town of Ipswich, whence it was distant about four +miles. The crews of vessels frequently had to walk up to the town from +this spot; so that it was no uncommon thing for them, upon landing near +the Priory Farm after a voyage, to be glad of a sparkling draught of +clear water. The desired draught was handed to the sailor by the +ever-ready hand of Margaret Catchpole, who always took an interest in +men belonging to the sea.</p> + +<p>“Is dis de Priry Barm?” asked the man, in broken English.</p> + +<p>“This is the Priory Farm,” was the quick and eager reply of Margaret.</p> + +<p>“How bar to Gipswitch?”</p> + +<p>“Four miles to Ipswich. What country are you from?”</p> + +<p>“Mynheer be brom Hamsterdam. I lept me bessel in de harber. Mynheer de +Captan did ’mand me up to Gipswitch. ’E ’mand me ’top at Priry Barm to +tale von Margaret Catchpole dad ’e vou’d come up ’ere to-morrow, at nine +o’clock in de eve.”</p> + +<p>“What is your captain’s name?”</p> + +<p>“Von Villiam Laud.”</p> + +<p>The reader need not be told the rest of the conversation, which of +course related to the Captain. How he was? How he got on? Whose service +he was in? How he would come up? And where Margaret was to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> meet him? It +was all arranged that she should be upon the shore at nine o’clock, and +look out for a small sail-boat, which should come up the river and run +ashore against the creek: that the watchword should be “Margaret,” and +that punctuality should be observed.</p> + +<p>Margaret’s quick understanding soon construed all the sailor said into +proper English, though she could not perceive that the man only feigned +a foreign accent and manner. He was indeed one of Laud’s crew, an +emissary sent on purpose to decoy the poor girl on to the strand, that +he might carry her off to a foreign shore, against her own determined +purpose.</p> + +<p>It is not to be wondered at that she should be a little agitated. Whose +heart would not have been so under similar circumstances? The expected +arrival of some fashionable and insinuating man of fortune into the +saloon of fashion has not agitated the heart of an amiable and +interesting young lady more sensibly than poor Margaret felt herself +fluttering within at this peculiar time. It is a great question, +however, whether any high-spirited damsel could prevent the exposure of +her high feelings with more effect than this poor girl did hers, who not +only had her own interest to induce her so to do, but her lover’s also.</p> + +<p>The last day of September came, and with it all the bustle and pleasure +of Harvest-Home. No small share of work fell to Margaret’s hands, who +had to prepare the harvest supper for fourteen men, besides women and +children.</p> + +<p>At that time of day, all the single men lodged in the master’s house, +and were expected to conform to all the rules, regulations, hours, and +work, of a well-regulated family.</p> + +<p>Once in a year, the good farmer invited the married men, with their +wives and families, to supper; and this supper was always the +Harvest-Home. This was the day on which the last load of corn was +conveyed into the barn or stack-yard, covered with green boughs, with +shouting, and blowing of the merry harvest horn.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>All the labourers upon the Priory Farm were assembled at six o’clock in +the evening: nine married men, and five single ones; the wives, and +those children who were old enough to come to the feast, together with +the boys, four in number, who had to work upon the land.</p> + +<p>A picture fit for the hand of Wilkie was exhibited in that ancient +farm-house. It is surprising that no good artist should have painted The +Harvest Supper. The Rent-day, Blindman’s-buff, The Fair, The Blind +Fiddler, or any of his celebrated works, could scarcely afford a more +striking subject for the canvas, or the printseller, than The +Harvest-Home. Such a scene may have been painted, but the writer of +these pages has never seen it described, though he has often witnessed +it in real life, and has shared with innocent pleasure in its rustic +joy.</p> + +<p>Margaret received great assistance from some of the married women. One +pair of hands could not, indeed, have prepared sufficient eatables for +such a party:—smoking puddings, plain and plum; piles of hot potatoes, +cabbages, turnips, carrots, and every species of vegetable which the +farmer’s lands could produce—beef, roast and boiled, mutton, veal, and +pork, everything good and substantial; a rich custard, and apple-pies, +to which the children did ample justice, for all were seated round this +well-furnished table in the old kitchen, celebrated for its curious roof +and antique chimney-piece.</p> + +<p>The lord of the feast, or head man in the harvest-field, took his +station at the head of the table, whilst the master of the house, and +his wife, his sister, and even his daughter, were the servants of the +feast, and took every pains to gratify and satisfy the party.</p> + +<p>Poor labourers are not the only class in England fond of a good dinner. +There are hundreds and thousands, with half the appetites of these +joyful sons and daughters of the sickle, who glory in a feast. How often +is the rich table spread with every delicacy, and at an enormous cost +the greatest rarities provided, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> a group of lords and ladies seated +thereat! Things just tasted and dismissed, and all due ceremonies +performed, the company rise without any satisfaction, and return to +their homes grateful to nobody; sometimes hungry and dissatisfied, moody +and contentious; disappointed, disaffected, tired, and palled by the +very fashion of the thing, in which there has been no enjoyment and no +thankfulness.</p> + +<p>It was not so at this rustic feast. Simplicity and pleasure sat upon +each face. Fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, felt thankful to God +for their master’s prosperity, and received his attentions with +unaffected gratitude.</p> + +<p>After the feast, and a flowing jug or two of brown ale had been emptied, +the wives and children were invited into the best parlour to tea and +cakes, whilst the merry reapers were left to themselves, to enjoy in +their own way the stronger harvest ale, which was just broached by the +hand of their master.</p> + +<p>Margaret had done her duty well, and was busily engaged washing up the +dishes as fast as she could, that she might, in the midst of this +bustling evening get her work sufficiently forward not to be missed, +should she run down to the shore.</p> + +<p>“Boy, take the can to the girl and have it filled"; for the master had +deputed Margaret to draw whatever ale was called for.</p> + +<p>This was soon done, and the boy returned just as the old clock struck +eight.</p> + +<p>Margaret heard with a fluttering heart the songs, according to custom, +commencing; and getting her work well forward, she resolved, after the +next can of ale was replenished, to be off.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, she ran up the back stairs, and brought down her bonnet and +shawl, which she left behind the staircase-door, and anxiously awaited +the moment to be off duty. She had put every plate in the rack, laid all +the iron spoons in the drawer, cleaned the spit, and placed it, bright +and shining, over the chimney-piece. All the skewers had been strung, +all the knives and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> forks washed and wiped, boilers, saucepans, +gridirons, and the rest of the culinary utensils cleaned, and placed in +their proper places; in short, scarcely any one would have believed that +they had that day been used. Clean they were, and cleaner the +well-washed face and hands of the active girl, who had finished her +work, and prepared herself for an interview with one whose image had +been graven on her mind through every period of her short service.</p> + +<p>At last she heard that welcome sound, more enchanting to her ear than +any song which the young men had sung: “Boy, take the can to Margaret!”</p> + +<p>It was soon replenished; and scarcely was the kitchen-door closed, ere +the bonnet and shawl were put on, the latch of the door lifted up, and +the bright rising moon shining gloriously in at the door. Happy moment! +what pencil could portray the features of that face upon which the moon +so clearly shone on that September night?</p> + +<p>Poor girl! ’twas a breathless moment of long anticipated pleasure to thy +good and honest heart, such as many a one, like thee, may have +experienced; but such as none, be she who she may, could have more +anxiously endured.</p> + +<p>At last, Margaret is off.</p> + +<p>The pleasure of the feast continued; and, as the foaming ale went round, +the spirits of the youths arose, and each bachelor who could not sing +had to toast his favourite lass.</p> + +<p>There were singular disclosures made at this season, which generally +indicated the future destiny of the bachelor. It was amusing enough to +hear those who did not choose to tell their lover’s name attempt to +sing, as “the lord" called upon him for a toast or song.</p> + +<p>“We haven’t had Jack Barry’s song,” said a sly fellow of the name of +Riches, who himself was one of the best singers in the party. “Please, +sir" (for such the lord of the feast was styled that night), “call upon +Jack for his song.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, the labourer at the head of the table knew that Jack could not +sing. He did not suppose, either, that he had any favourite lass; for no +one had seen Jack flirting, or directing his attentions towards any +favoured individual. The lord, however, was bound to do his duty, when +so urged; he therefore said, “John Barry, we call upon you for a song.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot sing, master: I wish I could,” was the reply.</p> + +<p>“Then you must give us a toast; and you know what it must be—‘Your +favourite lass.’”</p> + +<p>Jack hung down his head in solemn silence, for he felt extremely +awkward. He <i>had</i> a favourite lass; he felt he had; and no one knew it +but himself; and if he should toast her, he felt that he should be +laughed at. He remained in a state of painful suspense, between doubt +and fear. A thousand thoughts revolved in his mind, whether he should +not give a fictitious name, or some one whom he had heard of, or only +knew by sight; but then appeared the certainty of some of them +congratulating the person he might happen to mention, and so bringing +him into a scrape. He thought also of dissimulation, and a lie, at which +Jack’s honest nature revolted. But if he should really tell his +sweetheart’s name! He felt for her, he felt for himself, and he remained +a long time without uttering a word.</p> + +<p>“Come, Jack, my boy, what’s the matter? Give us your favourite lass! +What makes you flinch, my lad?”</p> + +<p>Jack remained silent, until some began to think he meant to shirk the +subject. The fact is, that Jack had really some notion of bolting, and +once or twice he cast a sidelong glance at the door, with the full +intention of an escape; but Will Riches, perceiving this, most +unceremoniously bolted the door; and, as the jug stood close by him, he +declared he would know Jack’s sweetheart before another drop should be +drunk.</p> + +<p>“Come, Jack,” says he, “why not give us at once the girl you love +best?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Because she does not love me,” was Jack’s quick reply.</p> + +<p>Here was a most significant glance from one to another round about the +room; and more than one whispered to his neighbour, “Who is it?” Not a +soul could tell, for no one had the slightest idea who the girl could be +who would refuse so honest a fellow as Jack Barry. Some began to think +that Jack had stepped out of his latitude, that he had dared to aspire +to the master’s daughter; some, that it was Matilda Baker, the grocer’s +girl; others set it down as Lucy Harper, of Stratton. But, be the damsel +whom she might, Jack’s speech had set such a spirit of curiosity +a-working, that the married men hoped to know for their wives’ sake, and +the single ones for their mistresses’ amusement. Jack had got further +into the mire by his floundering, and every one saw that he was +struggling all he could to escape.</p> + +<p>“Well, Jack, who is she? Who is she? Do we any of us know her?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, all of you.”</p> + +<p>Here they were all out at sea again.</p> + +<p>“It must be the master’s fair daughter,” said Ned Palmer to his +neighbour.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think it,” was the reply; “but he is not willing to tell us, +and it’s hardly fair to press him.”</p> + +<p>“It’s a law, a positive law—I’ve told mine,” says John Ruddock, “and I +don’t see why he should flinch from the name. I must have it.”</p> + +<p>“The name! the name!" exclaimed one or two resolute fellows.</p> + +<p>A tear stood in Jack’s eye. This might be a good joke to some; but the +elders of the party, who saw it, especially honest Tom Keeble, the lord +of the evening, felt for the young man that respect which induced him to +make a sortie or parley, in the hope of giving him relief.</p> + +<p>“Riches,” said he, “as the jug stands by you, I shall call upon you for +a song. Our young friend may, by the time you have entertained us, have +recovered him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>self; and, after your song, I shall order the jug round to +drink your health, if we do not get the lass.”</p> + +<p>Now, Will prided himself upon his vocal powers, and was a bold, forward +fellow. He had no objection to sing, nor had any of the company any +objection to his song; and, truth to tell, all hoped the jug of brown +ale would not be stopped long, either for the song or for “the favourite +lass.” So Will sang his song.</p> + +<p>“I’ll sing you a new song,” says he. “I’ll sing you one in which you can +all join in chorus in the house, as you have often done in the field. +I’ll sing you—</p> + +<p class="center">‘HALLO LARGESS.’”</p> + +<p>Accordingly, he lifted up his voice, and sang this truly happy and +appropriate harvest song:—</p> + +<div class="poetry width30"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line indent8">Now the ripened corn</div> +<div class="line indent8">In sheaves is borne,</div> +<div class="line indent8">And the loaded wain</div> +<div class="line indent8">Brings home the grain,</div> +<div class="line indent2">The merry, merry reapers sing a bind,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And jocund shouts the happy harvest hind,</div> +<div class="line indent8">Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line indent8">Now the harvest’s o’er,</div> +<div class="line indent8">And the grain we store,</div> +<div class="line indent8">And the stacks we pull,</div> +<div class="line indent8">And the barn is full,</div> +<div class="line indent2">The merry, merry reapers sing again,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And jocund shouts the happy harvest swain,</div> +<div class="line indent8">Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line indent8">Now our toil is done,</div> +<div class="line indent8">And the feast is won,</div> +<div class="line indent8">And we meet once more</div> +<div class="line indent8">As we did of yore,</div> +<div class="line indent2">The merry, merry reapers sing with glee,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And jocund shout their happy harvest spree,</div> +<div class="line indent8">Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line indent8">Now the feast we share—</div> +<div class="line indent8">’Tis our master’s fare,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +<div class="line indent8">May he long, long live</div> +<div class="line indent8">Such a treat to give,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And merry, merry reapers sing with joy,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And jocund shouts the happy harvest boy,</div> +<div class="line indent8">Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line indent8">Now we join in song</div> +<div class="line indent8">With our voices strong,</div> +<div class="line indent8">And our hearts are high</div> +<div class="line indent8">With our good supply,</div> +<div class="line indent2">We merry, merry reapers joyful come</div> +<div class="line indent2">To shout and sing our happy Harvest-Home,</div> +<div class="line indent8">Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess!</div> +</div></div> + +<p>The spirit of this song is in the chorus, which is peculiar to the +eastern counties of this kingdom. So “Hallo Largess!" may be well +understood here, but in many parts of the country is quite unknown. At +the time of harvest, when the men are reaping down the fields, should +their master have any friends visiting his fields, the head man among +the labourers usually asks a largess, which is generally a shilling. +This is asked not only of friends and visitors, but of strangers +likewise, should they pause to look at the reapers as they bind up the +sheaves.</p> + +<p>At evening, when the work of the day is over, all the men collect in a +circle, and Hallo, that is, cry, Largess. Three times they say, in a low +tone, “Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Large!" and all, hand in hand, +bow their heads almost to the ground; but, after the third monotonous +yet sonorous junction, they lift up their heads, and, with one burst of +their voices, cry out, “Gess!”</p> + +<p>Varieties of this peculiar custom may exist in some districts. Sometimes +the man with the most stentorian lungs will mount an eminence and lead +the rest, who join in chorus. They generally conclude the ceremony with +three shouts, and then “Thank Mr., Mrs., Miss, or Master" (as the case +of the donor may be) “for his largess.” Whence the origin of this +practice, is not now easily to be ascertained. It was much more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> common +than it is. The habit of dividing the gains, too, at the harvest frolic, +is going fast out of fashion; nor is its substitute an amendment.</p> + +<p>At the period here mentioned, and in the Priory Farm, it was customary +for the lord to divide the largess among the men, women, and children; +which formed a species of family nest-egg, to provide against some +urgent necessity. The custom has now degenerated into an ale-house +revel, and the money is all drunk out for the benefit of no one but the +publican.</p> + +<p>“Will Riches, your health!" said the lord, as, at the same moment, he +turned the contents of a canvas-bag upon the table, which exhibited a +very good aspect of liberal contributions. The reader may suppose that +every master-tradesman who visited the farm had to give his share, and +that the lord had not been unmindful of his solicitations, when, upon +counting the contents of the bag, there were found one hundred shillings +and sixpence. This exactly gave five shillings a-piece to the fourteen +men, half-a-crown ditto to the nine women, and two shillings each to the +four boys.</p> + +<p>The division of this sum gave great satisfaction; and our persecuted +friend, Jack Barry, had almost unperceived accomplished a successful +retreat in the interesting moment of pocketing the cash. But the +watchful songster had him in his eye; and, as he rose to thank the +company for the honour done him in drinking his health, he intercepted +Jack in the act of drawing back the bolt of the door.</p> + +<p>“I think this is the best place I can speak from; and, as Jack is so +anxious to be off, perhaps to see his sweetheart, I hope he’ll give me +the opportunity of proposing her health in his absence, for not until he +has given us her name shall the bolt be drawn.”</p> + +<p>The poor fellow had counted on his escape, but little thought of the +extremity of ridicule he was thus bringing upon himself. At length, +urged on all sides, he could resist no longer, but, in a kind of +ludicrous despair, he exclaimed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“Well, then, I’ll toast the health of Margaret Catchpole!”</p> + +<p>The pencil of Wilkie could alone describe the wild burst of unrestrained +glee at this declaration.</p> + +<p>“Margaret Catchpole!" was as suddenly responded in surprise by men, +women, and children; and such grinning countenances, and coarse +laughter, and joking congratulations, were beginning to show themselves, +that Jack, no longer able to endure their gibes, bolted to the door, +and, finding no resistance to his will, made his exit, amidst the roars +of his companions, who vociferated, with a cheer, “The health of +Margaret Catchpole!”</p> + +<p>Jack fled precipitately from this scene of tumult and confusion, and, as +he passed the little foot-bridge over the stream from the moat, he still +heard the rude merriment he had excited. The moon rose brilliantly over +the little chapel in the dark background, and was reflected upon the +water in a line with the bridge, and showed Jack’s figure in darkness +crossing the light plank; but he was soon in the shadow of those lofty +trees, which darkened the footpath towards the gamekeeper’s cottage. He +had instinctively taken this path because it led to Levington, his +father’s house; and he then remembered that parent’s parting words—"If +ever you feel yourself unhappy, my boy, remember you have a home here, +in which, as long as your mother and I live, we shall be happy to give +you a welcome.”</p> + +<p>Jack was really unhappy, and he had some cause for feeling so, though he +felt that it lay not with himself. He knew that he had spoken the truth, +though it had cost him a severe pang; and whilst he felt much grief at +the thought of the jeers and quizzings he should meet with, and the +annoyances he might occasion the poor girl whom he really loved, he had +still spoken the truth, which he was not ashamed to confess. He was +arrested in his progress by the voice of John Gooding, the old +gamekeeper of the great Squire of Nacton—Philip Broke.</p> + +<p>“Who goes there?” was his question.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>“John Barry,” was the reply.</p> + +<p>“Where now, Jack—where now?”</p> + +<p>“What, Mr. Gooding, is it you? Has the tide turned? Can I walk along the +shore to Levington?”</p> + +<p>“The tide has only just turned; but, if you take the wood-path for a +while to Nacton, you may then, if you like it, keep the shore along +Orwell Park, and pass the old Hall to Levington. But what makes you +leave good company at this time o’ night?”</p> + +<p>“I have left them all very merry at the harvest supper, but I had a mind +to see my friends.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Jack, had it been any other man upon the farm, I should have been +suspicious of you as a poacher; but I know you well, and can believe +you. I should not trust some that you have left behind. I was just going +down to the Priory, to see how you lads fared to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Gooding, you will find them all very glad to see you, and no +doubt they will make you welcome; but will you trouble yourself to let +master know where I am gone to-night, that he may close his doors +without expecting to see me?”</p> + +<p>“That I will; and, when I get there, I will propose your health, Jack, +during your absence.”</p> + +<p>“Do so, Mr. Gooding; and tell them all, they have my hearty good wishes +for their health and happiness.”</p> + +<p>“Good-night.”</p> + +<p>“Good-night.”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br /><span style="font-size:70%">THE CONFLICT</span></a></h2> + + +<p>But where is Margaret all this time? She is on the shore, casting an +anxious eye upon the waters. The moon is shining with such perfect +brightness, that she can see across the river, though it be nearly two +miles from the strand at Downham Reach to Freston Tower. She looks +towards the dark shades of Woolverstone, and with a lover’s anxious eye, +fancies she can descry a sail. A sail there was; but it came very slowly +on, though a breeze reached the spot where poor Margaret was standing.</p> + +<p>In that old vessel, seated at the helm, was as extraordinary a character +as ever sailed upon the waves of the Orwell; and as he will be no +insignificant actor in some succeeding scenes of this work, he shall be +here introduced to the notice of the reader. He is thus described in the +<i>Suffolk Garland</i>.</p> + +<p>“The ancient fisherman whose character is here portrayed is not a mere +creature of the imagination, but an eccentric being, once resident in +the parish of St. Clement, Ipswich, by name Thomas Colson, but better +known by the appellation of Robinson Crusoe. He was originally a +wool-comber, and afterwards a weaver; but a want of constant employment +in either of these occupations induced him to enter into the East +Suffolk Militia. Whilst quartered at Leicester, he learned, with his +usual ingenuity, the art of stocking-weaving, which trade he afterwards +followed in this county. But this employment, in its turn, he soon +relinquished, and became a fisherman on the river Orwell. His little +vessel (if vessel it might be called, for every part of it was his own +handiwork) presented a curious specimen of naval patchwork, for his +extreme poverty did not afford him the means of procuring<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> proper +materials. In this leaky and crazy vessel, it was his constant custom, +by day and by night, in calms and in storms, to toil on the river for +fish. His figure was tall and thin; his countenance meagre, yet +striking; and his eye sharp and piercing. Subject to violent chronic +complaints, with a mind somewhat distempered, and faculties impaired, he +was a firm believer in the evil agency of wizards and witchcraft.... His +mind was so haunted with the dreams of charms and enchantments, as to +fancy that he was continually under the influence of these mischievous +tormentors. His arms and legs, nay, almost his whole body, was encircled +with bones of horses, rings, amulets, and characts, verses, words, &c., +&c., as spells and charms to protect him against their evil +machinations. On different parts of his boat was to be seen ‘the +horseshoe nailed,’ that most effective antidote against the power of +witches. When conversing with him, he would describe to you that he saw +them hovering about his person, and endeavouring by all their arts to +punish and torment him. Though a wretched martyr to the fancies of a +disordered imagination, his manners were mild and harmless, and his +character honest and irreproachable. But, however powerful and effective +his charms might be to protect him from the agency of evil spirits, they +did not prove sufficiently operative against the dangers of storm and +tempest. For, being unfortunately driven on the ooze by a violent storm +on the 3rd of October, 1811, he was seen, and earnestly importuned to +quit his crazy vessel; but relying on the efficacy of his charms, he +obstinately refused; and the ebb of the tide drawing his bark off into +deep water, his charms and his spells failed him, and poor Robinson sank +to rise no more.”</p> + +<p>The writer of these pages knew Colson well. He has often, when a boy, +been in his boat with him; and always found him kind and gentle.</p> + +<p>The old man who sat at the helm of his crazy vessel, now toiling up the +Orwell, was a perfect fisherman, patient, quiet, steady, active, and +thoughtful. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> had enough to employ his mind as well as his body, and +too deeply was that mind engaged. The whole legion of evil spirits +seemed to be his familiar companions, or rather his incessant enemies. +He knew all their names, and their propensities; how they visited and +afflicted men; and his great study was, how to prevent their malice +taking effect upon himself or any one else. He would converse with them, +and parley with them; he would seem to suffer when any of them took him +by surprise and found him off his guard. The loss of any one of his +numerous charms was sure to occasion the visit of that very demon from +whose attacks it was supposed to defend him. He has often been tried by +intelligent persons, anxious to discover if he really invented a new +tale for each spirit; notes were kept of the name and the peculiar +temper he attributed to each; and, months afterwards, he was questioned +again and again upon the same points, but he never faltered—never +attributed a wrong direction to any one—but was as accurate and certain +as on the first day he spoke of them.</p> + +<p>The whole purport of these attacks was to persuade Robin to do some +wicked deed, at which his mind revolted; and when they could not prevail +against him, they used to seem, to his suffering mind, to torment him, +sometimes to pinch him, sometimes to pelt him, at others, to burn or +scald him, pull his hair off his head, to pull his ears, his nose, or +his arms; and, under all these seeming attacks, the old man’s +countenance would exhibit the species of suffering resembling the +agonies of one really under such torture. No one could persuade him that +it was imaginative; he would shake his head and say, “I see them +plainly—take care they do not visit you!”</p> + +<p>He was a very kind friend to many who were afflicted; and never saw a +person in distress whilst he had a fish in his boat, or a penny in his +pocket, and refused to help him.</p> + +<p>From the great encouragement he met with, and the friends who were +always kind to him, it is supposed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> that he might have laid by a +sufficiency for his latter days, for at one time he had amassed enough +to have purchased a new vessel, but in an evil hour he was induced to +lend it to an artful villain, who represented himself in great distress, +but who ran off with the whole.</p> + +<p>It was curious to see the old man whilst repairing his boat, which was, +when given to him by Mr. Seekamp, but a wreck, as it lay upon the mud +near Hog Island. It was curious to see him, whilst plying his hatchet, +suddenly stop, seat himself on a piece of timber, and hold parley with +one of the demons, who, in his frenzy, he fancied attacked him. After +searching about his person, he would suddenly catch up a talisman, which +shown to the enraged spirit would send him off, and leave the tormented +in peace. His delight was visible in the chuckling joy of his speech, as +he returned triumphantly and speedily to his accustomed work.</p> + +<p>Colson, who sat at the helm of his vessel, which creaked heavily under +the breeze as it sprang up, was in one of his moods of reverie, when, +stooping down and straining his eyes to windward, he saw a sail. It was +a small boat, which seemed to have got more wind in her canvas than +Robin could obtain.</p> + +<p>On came the boat; and the breeze began to swell the many-coloured sail +of the bewitched barque; but Robin’s canvas was heavy compared with the +airy trimming of the feathers of the little duck that followed him. Like +a creature of life, she skipped along, and soon overtook the old +fisherman of the Orwell.</p> + +<p>“What ship ahoy! What ship ahoy!" exclaimed a gruff voice from the boat +below, as Robin, leaning over the stern of his clumsy craft, looked +closely into her with an eager eye.</p> + +<p>“It’s only old Robinson Crusoe,” replied the other. “You may speak long +to him before you know what he means, even if you get any answer at +all.”</p> + +<p>“Ahoy! ahoy!" was, however, the old man’s reply. “You’ve got the foul +fiend aboard. What are you up to, Will? I know that’s Will Laud’s voice, +though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> I haven’t heard it lately. Whither bound, Will? whither bound?”</p> + +<p>“Confound the fellow!" muttered Will. “I never heard him say so much +before. The foul fiend always sails with him. But give him a good word, +John, and a wide berth.”</p> + +<p>“Heavy laden, Robin? heavy laden? You’ve a good haul aboard. Crabs, or +lobsters, or crayfish—eh, Robin? turbot, plaice, or flounders? soles, +brill, or whiting? sanddabs, or eels? But you’ve got plenty, Bob, or I +mistake, if not a choice. The tide is falling: you’ll never reach the +Grove to-night.”</p> + +<p>“I shall get up in time, Will. You’ve lightened my cargo. You’ve got a +pleasant companion aboard. You’ve got my black fiend on your mainsail. +There he sits, pointing at you both, as if he had you in his own +clutches. Take care he don’t drive you aground. He sticks close to the +sail, Will.”</p> + +<p>“Heave ahoy! heave ahoy! Good-night!" and away bounded the boat, which +was then passing Pin Mill, in the widest part of the river, and steering +towards the shades of Woolverstone. The obelisk rose high over the dark +trees, pointing to the clear, moonlit sky, its pinnacle still tinged +with the last red light of that autumnal evening.</p> + +<p>But the breeze freshening, the little skiff darted along the side of the +greensward, which sloped to the water’s edge; and, as she passed, the +startled doe leaped up from her repose, and stamped her foot, and +snorted to the herd reposing or browsing on the side of the hill.</p> + +<p>Woolverstone Park, with its thick copses and stately trees, whose roots +reached, in snaky windings, to the very shore, was now the range along +which the barque skirted till it came opposite the white cottage, which +stands on a small green opening, or lawn, slanting down to the river.</p> + +<p>The park boat was moored against the stairs, and a single light burned +against the window, at which a white cat might be seen to be sitting. It +was a favourite cat of the gamekeeper’s, which had accidentally been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +killed in a rabbit-trap, and, being stuffed, was placed in the window of +the cottage. Visible as it always was in the same place, in the broad +day and in the clear moonlight, the sailors on the river always called +that dwelling by the name of the Cat House; by which it is known at the +present day. High above it might be seen the mansion, shining in the +moonbeam, and many lights burning in its various apartments—a sign of +the hospitality of W. Berners, Esquire, the lord of that beautiful +domain.</p> + +<p>But the two sailors in the boat were little occupied with thoughts about +the beauty of this scene, or the interest that might attach to that side +of the water. Their eyes were bent upon the opposite shore; and, as they +sailed along, with a favourable wind, they soon passed the boathouse and +the mansion of Woolverstone.</p> + +<p>“Luff, do you think we shall be lucky? I’d venture my share of the next +run, if I could once safely harbour the prize from yonder shore.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Will, you speak as if the Philistines were to meet you. Who can +prevent your cutting out such a prize?”</p> + +<p>“I know not; except that she is too difficult a craft to manage.”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw, Will! her cable may be easily cut; and once we have her in tow, +with this side-wind upon our sail, we shall be back again as quickly as +we came.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe, maybe, John; but I do not like being too desperate. I’ll fulfil +my word, and give you more than half my share, which you know is a +pretty good one, if you will lend me an honest and fair play.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do nothing, Bill, but what you tell me. I’ll lay like a log in the +boat, and stir not without the boatswain’s whistle; and as to an honest +hand, I’ll tell you what, Will, ’tis something as good as your own—it +will do by you as well as your own would do by me.”</p> + +<p>“Say no more, say no more! But look, John—I do believe I see her by the +shore.”</p> + +<p>“I see something white, but that’s the cottage in the Reach.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<p>“No, no, John; keep her head well up; my eyes are clearer than yours—I +see her flag waving in the wind. You may take your tack now, John—we +shall run directly across. Ease out the mainsail a bit, and I’ll mind +the foresail. Bear up, my hearty! bear up, my hearty!”</p> + +<p>With such words of mutual encouragement did these men of the sea, the +river, and the land, after passing Woolverstone Park, steer directly +across, towards Nacton Creek, that they might hug the wind under Downham +Reach, and move more rapidly, in shallow water, against the tide.</p> + +<p>Any one would imagine, from their conversation, that they were intent +upon cutting out some vessel from her moorings, instead of a poor, +defenceless girl, who, trusting to nothing but the strength of true +love, stood waiting for them on the shore.</p> + +<p>There stood the ever faithful Margaret, with palpitating heart, watching +the light barque, as it came bounding over the small curling waves of +the Orwell. In her breast beat feelings such as some may have +experienced; but, whoever they may be, they must have been most +desperately in love. Hope, fear, joy, and terror, anxiety, and +affection—each, in turn, sent their separate sensations, in quick +succession, into her soul. Hope predominated over the rest, and +suggested these bright thoughts—</p> + +<p>“He is coming to me, no more to be tried, no more to be disapproved, but +to tell me he is an honest man, and engaged in honest service.”</p> + +<p>What a picture would she have presented at that moment to any genuine +lover of nature! Who could describe that eye of expectation, swelled as +it was with the animating hope of happiness to come! Who could describe +that heaving heart, answering as it did to every heave of the little +boat which came bounding to the shore! And what words shall speak that +sudden emotion, as the welcome sound of the grounding keel, and the rush +of waters following it, told that the boat was ashore, which conveyed to +a woman’s heart all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> that she had so long looked for, hoped, and +feared—her lover’s return!</p> + +<p>The watchword, “<i>Margaret</i>,” was spoken, and in another moment her joy +and grief, and love and hope, were, as it were, embodied in the embrace +of him she loved. Moments at such time fly too rapidly—an hour seems +but an instant. There is so much to say, to express, to ponder upon, +that the time is always too short. In honest love there seems to be no +fear, no death, no time, no change—a sort of existence indescribably +happy, indefinitely blissful, hopeful, and enduring.</p> + +<p>In the heart of Margaret, the poor Margaret Catchpole, love was her +life; and as she stood upon that strand, and first welcomed her William, +she felt the purest, happiest, and holiest feelings of joy, rectitude, +and honesty—such as she never before had felt to such extent, and such +as she knew but for a few short moments, and often wished for again, but +never, never afterwards experienced.</p> + +<p>Since his absence from Margaret, the character of Laud had become more +and more desperate, and to say that the same pure feeling burned in his +breast as did in Margaret’s would not be true. No man who leads a guilty +life can entertain that purity of love in his heart which shall stand +the test of every earthly trial; but Margaret, like many real lovers, +attributed to him she loved the same perfection and singleness of +attachment which she felt towards him. Had she known that this pure +flame was only burning as pure and bright in the honest soul of Jack +Barry, she would, it may be, have rejected Laud, and have accepted him; +but she knew not this. She was not blind to the faults of the sailor, +though she was blinded to his real character. She expected to find a +love like her own, and really believed his affection to be the same to +the last.</p> + +<p>“Now, Margaret,” he at length exclaimed, “now’s the time: my boat is +ready, my ship is at the mouth of the river. A snug little cabin is at +your service;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> and you will find more hearts and hands to serve you than +you ever had in your life.”</p> + +<p>“But where am I to go, William? What business have I on board your +master’s vessel? He would not approve of your sailing with your young +wife. I thought you came to tell me you were prepared to marry me from +my own dear father’s house, and to be a comfort and a blessing to my +aged mother.”</p> + +<p>“Margaret, you say you love me. My time is short. I am come here to +prove the sincerity of my love, and to take you, in an honest way, to a +country where we may be married; but if you send me away now, we may +never meet again.”</p> + +<p>“If you are true, William—if, as you say, your prospects are good, and +you have spared sufficient from your lawful gains to hire a cottage and +to make me happy, why not get leave of absence, and come and marry me in +dear old England?”</p> + +<p>“I may not be able to get leave for a long time; and what difference +does it make whether we are married here, or in my employer’s country? +Marriage is marriage, Margaret, in every place, all the world over.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Will; but I have heard that marriages solemnized in some countries +do not hold good in others; and whether they did or not, I should like +those who first gave me birth to give me to you, William. My consent, +they know, is a willing one; but I should not be happy in mind, if I +were to leave my parents without their knowing where I was gone.”</p> + +<p>“What will it matter if they do not know it till we return? I almost +think you would like another better than me, Margaret.”</p> + +<p>“If you, William, were, in some respects, other than you are, I should +like you full as well; but, as you are, I love you, and you know it. Why +not come ashore, and marry me at our own church, and in the presence of +my own parents? As to any other, William, though another may like me, I +cannot help it, but I can help his having me.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Then there is another that does love you!—is there, Margaret?”</p> + +<p>A blush passed over Margaret’s face as she replied, “Another has told me +so, and I did not deceive him. He thought you dead, or he would never +have ventured upon the subject. I told him he was mistaken, that you +were not dead, and that I still loved you, William.”</p> + +<p>“Then he knows I live, does he?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And you have betrayed me?”</p> + +<p>“No: I have not told any one but him; and as he pressed his suit, +thinking that you were no more, I felt it to be only due to him to tell +him you were alive.”</p> + +<p>“And who is he, Margaret? You would not have been so plain with him if +he had not had somewhat of your confidence.”</p> + +<p>“He is an honest young man, and of very good and respectable parents—he +works at the Priory Farm; and seeing him, as I do, daily, I can form +sufficient judgement of his character to believe he would never betray +any one.”</p> + +<p>“Upon my word, Margaret, he must be a prodigy of perfection! Perhaps you +would like him to be bridesman upon our wedding-day?”</p> + +<p>“I would, indeed, if he would like it, and you had no objection.”</p> + +<p>“What is his name?”</p> + +<p>“John Barry.”</p> + +<p>“What! of Levington?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“His brother is in the coastguard. It was he who gave me this, Margaret, +this cut upon my forehead—this, that you took such pains to heal.”</p> + +<p>“And it is healed, William; and your heart, too, I hope.”</p> + +<p>“No, no, no!—I owe him one!”</p> + +<p>“Consider me his creditor, and pay it me; for I healed that wound, and +it brought with it reformation.”</p> + +<p>“I would not give you what I would give him.”</p> + +<p>“No, William; but you ought not to bear malice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> His brother has been +very kind to me. I may say, he is the only one who never reproached me +with having been the mistress of a smuggler.” (There was a fearful frown +upon the smuggler’s brow at this moment, and a convulsive grasp of the +poor girl’s hand, that told there was agony and anger stirring in his +soul.) “But you are not a smuggler now, William. I did not mean to hurt +your feelings. All reproach of that name has long passed away from my +mind.”</p> + +<p>William was silent, and gazed wildly upon the waters. One hand was in +his bosom, the other was in Margaret’s hand, as she leaned upon his +shoulder. There might be seen a strange paleness passing over his face, +and a painful compression of his lips. A sudden start, as if +involuntary, and it was most truly so. It told of a chilliness on the +heart, that seemed to freeze the blood in his veins. He actually +trembled.</p> + +<p>“William, you are not well.”</p> + +<p>“No, I am not; but a little grog, which is in the boat, will soon set me +right again.”</p> + +<p>“Shall I run and fetch it?”</p> + +<p>“No, no,—wait a bit, wait a bit. Hold—I was a smuggler! Yes, you said +I was a smuggler! The world despised me! You bore the reproach of my +name! Well, Margaret, the smuggler comes home—he comes to marry you. +Will the world believe him to be altered? Will they not call you, then, +the smuggler’s bride?”</p> + +<p>“No, William, not if you are really altered, as you say you are. I wish +you were in the British service; seamen are wanted now, and the smuggler +would soon be forgiven, when he once sailed under the flag of Old +England.”</p> + +<p>“’Tis too late, ’tis too late, now, Margaret! I will not say I may not +ever sail under our gallant Nelson. You might persuade me to it, if you +would only sail with me to Holland, and there be married to me, +Margaret.”</p> + +<p>“You have heard me upon this point: do not urge it any more. I have now +stolen away from duty,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> William, to meet you here, and I hope I shall +not be missed. Let me only hear you say you will come again soon, to +marry me at home, and I shall return to my service happy.”</p> + +<p>“I would if I could, but I cannot.”</p> + +<p>“Why not, William? why not?”</p> + +<p>“Do not ask me why. Come, Margaret, come to the boat, and share my fate. +I will be constant to you, and you shall be my counsellor.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, William, do not urge me to forsake all my friends, and put all +this country in terror as to what has become of me. I cannot go on board +your boat. I cannot give you myself until God and my parents have given +me to you. So do not think of it; but, come again, come again!—yes, +again and again!—but come openly, in the sight of all men, and I will +be yours. I live for you only, William, and will never be another’s +whilst you live.”</p> + +<p>“But how can I live without you, Margaret? I cannot come in the way you +talk of; I tell you I cannot. Do, then, do be mine.”</p> + +<p>“I am yours, William, and will ever be so; but it must be openly, before +all men, and upon no other terms.”</p> + +<p>“Then it will never be!”</p> + +<p>“Why so?”</p> + +<p>“Because I am a smuggler!”</p> + +<p>“You have been such, but you are not so now. You have long forsaken the +gang; you are forgotten, and supposed to be dead. You may change your +name; but being changed in your life, it will only be known to me.”</p> + +<p>“And to Barry, too, Margaret; and then to his brother, and to numbers of +others, who will know me. I was recognized this very night.”</p> + +<p>“What, if you change your name?”</p> + +<p>“My name is changed, but not my nature. I am a smuggler still!”</p> + +<p>“No, William, no—you cannot be! You are in the service of an honest +man, though a foreigner.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>“No, Margaret, I am not. You see before you the notorious Hudson. I am a +smuggler still!”</p> + +<p>It was now poor Margaret’s turn to tremble, and she felt more than +language can speak. She had heard of Hudson—Captain Hudson, as he was +called—but had no idea that her lover was that, or such a man. She felt +a revulsion amounting to sickness, a giddiness overcame her, and she +felt as if she must fall to the earth. Half carried, half urged, half +pulled along, she was unconsciously moving, with her eyes fixed fully +upon the boat, and approaching it, and she had no power to resist—a +sort of trance-like senselessness seemed to overpower her; and yet she +felt that hand, knew that form, and saw the waters and the boat, and had +no energy or impulse to resist. Her heart was so struck with the +deadliness of grief and despair, that the nerves had no power to obey +the will, and the will seemed but a wish to die. We cannot die when we +wish it, and it is well for us we cannot. Happy they who do not shrink +when the time comes appointedly; thrice happy they who welcome it with +joy, and hope, and love!</p> + +<p>Margaret revived a little before she reached the boat, and resisted. The +firm grasp of the smuggler was not, however, to be loosed.</p> + +<p>“You do not mean to force me away, William?”</p> + +<p>“I must, if you will not go.”</p> + +<p>“I will not go.”</p> + +<p>“You shall—you must—you cannot help it! Do not resist.”</p> + +<p>“Shame, William, shame! Is this your love?”</p> + +<p>“It is, Margaret, it is. I mean you fair.”</p> + +<p>“Your means are foul. Let me go, William! let me go!”</p> + +<p>“Yes: you shall go on board my boat.”</p> + +<p>“Not with my life, William. I will go overboard!”</p> + +<p>“Then will I follow you; but I cannot parley longer. Come on!”</p> + +<p>The poor girl’s struggles now became so violent, and her efforts to +escape so powerful, that Will Laud’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> utmost strength could not drag her +along the sand. Her fears, too, were increasing with his cruel violence; +and these fears were greatly increased by Laud giving a loud, shrill +boatswain’s whistle. This awakened her to the sight of the trap into +which she had been beguiled, for, in another moment, she saw a man +spring from the boat, and hasten towards her. He came along with rapid +strides to join them, and soon, with horrid voice, exclaimed,—</p> + +<p>“Your signal, Laud, is late indeed, but better late than never.”</p> + +<p>That voice was too well known by Margaret: ’twas the hated +countryman’s—’twas John Luff’s.</p> + +<p>This fellow seized her in his arms, and, as a tiger would swing a fawn +over his back, so poor Margaret was swung over his shoulders in an +instant. The last effort a defenceless female can make is the shriek of +despair; and such a one was heard, as not only sounded through the woods +of Downham Reach, but reached the opposite shores of Woolverstone Park.</p> + +<p>That shriek was heard by one whose heart was too true to nature to +resist the good motives which it awakened. Young Barry, as the reader +knows, was journeying toward the gamekeeper’s cottage on the cliff, and +had just entered the wood in front of that dwelling, as the piercing +shriek struck upon his ear. He sprang over the paling in an instant, and +by the broad moonlight beheld a man carrying a female towards a boat, +and the other assisting to stop her cries. He leaped down the cliff, and +seizing a strong break-water stake, which he tore up from the sand, +rushed forward to the man who carried the female. It was a good, trusty, +heart-of-oak stake which he held, and which in one moment he swung round +his head, and sent its full weight upon the hamstrings of Luff. The +fellow rolled upon the sand, and over and over rolled the poor girl into +the very waves of the Orwell.</p> + +<p>It was no slight work which Barry had now in hand. It was a bold deed to +attack two such daring villains, both well armed, and he with nothing +but a stake.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> But the consequences he neither foresaw nor dreaded; the +cause was a good one, and he left the issue to God. As quick as thought +he had already dashed one foeman to the earth; the other stood aghast, +beholding Margaret fallen into the water, and his comrade rolling on the +shore. He flew to help Margaret, and raising her up, determined not to +relinquish her, but stood opposed to the dauntless Barry.</p> + +<p>“Villains, release the girl!" was his exclamation.</p> + +<p>“It is Barry’s voice!" shrieked Margaret. “Help, John, help!”</p> + +<p>There was a strange opposition of feeling in all the parties at these +words. The blood curdled in the veins of the smugglers, whilst it seemed +to burst with overpowering fullness upon the forehead of the young man +who now attacked them. He fought for the prize of true love—they for +revenge. The moment they heard the name uttered by the girl they seemed +to think no more about her; but the fallen man sprang up, and Laud let +Margaret go, and both rushed, like enraged wild beasts, with full force +against young Barry. He, with true heroic daring, committed himself at +once to the encounter. He was a fine athletic young man, a head taller +than either of the sailors, but odds were fearfully against him. Luff +was a stout, stiff, sturdy seaman; and Laud young, active, cool, and +desperate.</p> + +<p>A smuggler is seldom without a weapon of offence and defence. Luff +seized his pistol from his girdle, and fired at his brave antagonist; it +missed its mark, and the stout oak arm was not long in thundering a blow +upon his head, which again sent him sprawling upon the ground. It was +Laud’s turn now to take his aim, which he did in the most cool, +determined manner, with as much ease, and as steady a hand, as if he +were firing at a holiday mark. It was a cruel aim, and rendered the +contest still more unequal. It took effect in the young man’s left +shoulder, and rendered that arm useless.</p> + +<p>None but such a frame and such a spirit could have stood against that +pistol-shot. It made him stagger for the moment; but he had presence of +mind to ward<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> off the next blow of a cutlass with his good oaken staff. +And now might be seen the most desperate conflict for life or death +between the rivals. Barry and Laud closed and parted, and struggled +fiercely with each other, though the former had but one arm to act upon +the defensive with. His right hand, however, was powerful enough to dash +the sword of Laud at least ten yards into the wave; and with such +dexterity did he handle his weapon, that had not Luff come again +unexpectedly to the encounter, the contest must have been speedily +terminated in favour of Barry: Luff recovered his feet again, and rushed +at Barry with such rage, that again his other pistol missed its aim.</p> + +<p>Barry had now to act entirely upon his own defence, with only one arm +against four. He had this advantage, however, that they had no time to +load their pistols, and had only their short butt-ends to fight with, +whilst he had a good long arm.</p> + +<p>But assistance—unexpected assistance—was at hand. A tall, gaunt figure +strode along the strand, armed with a long fisherman’s pike, or hook, a +weapon commonly used to take codfish off the fishing-lines. His was a +sinewy arm, which few could resist or disable.</p> + +<p>When such a man was aroused, harmless and peaceable as was his general +character, his appearance became truly terrific; and his firm and steady +step, and determined resolution, told that he was a soldier of cool +courage, not easily to be beaten.</p> + +<p>It was old Colson, or poor Robinson Crusoe, who, as it has been stated, +was making his way with fish up the Orwell.</p> + +<p>He and young Barry, now side by side, beat back the smugglers to their +boat. Desperate was the contest; but there was no opposing the +unearthly-looking being, with his bones, perforated plates, and charms +dangling about his person. Well was it that he came so opportunely, for +without his help the fate of young Barry had been sealed for ever. It +was bad enough as it was. The smugglers retreated, and jumped into their +boat. Laud, seizing a carabine, levelled it at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> Barry, whilst Luff +pushed off the boat from the shore.</p> + +<p>“Let fly at him, Will! let fly at him! Revenge yourself and my fall!”</p> + +<p>A flash and loud explosion followed this advice. The smoke cleared off +in a second, and the pirates saw but the stately form of Robin standing +upon the shore. Young Barry—the generous, brave, and faithful +Barry—lay stretched upon the sand.</p> + +<p>Meantime Margaret had escaped. She had reached the Priory Farm; and +rushing into the room where the harvest-men were assembled, fell down +exhausted, with just strength of voice to say, “Fly—fly—fly to the +shore! Barry will be murdered!”</p> + +<p>The gamekeeper was off before Margaret arrived, having heard the report +of the pistols; and he went into the wood. The young men ran off to the +shore, and soon found the old fisherman supporting the head of the poor +young man. The blood was flowing fast from his wounds, and he was in a +swoon like death, though his heart beat, and he breathed painfully. They +formed a double row; they lifted him up, and carried him along as gently +as they could; but the poor fellow groaned with the agony of his +shattered arm and wounded side.</p> + +<p>Robin followed them, muttering curses against the foul fiend, and every +moment pointing to the departing boat of the smugglers with a clenched +fist, exclaiming, “The foul fiend be with you! He’ll consume you yet, ye +cowards!”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br /><span style="font-size:70%">DISAPPOINTMENT</span></a></h2> + + +<p>There is a sad and fearful void in the disappointed heart.</p> + +<p>Poor Margaret! but one short hour past and thy prospects were as bright +as the broad moonlight that shone upon thy path. Yea, they were as +bright to thine eye as that beautiful orb in the most brilliant night; +for thy love was pure, true, and abiding.</p> + +<p>How great was the reverse our heroine experienced when she quitted her +lover, and returned to the Priory Farm worse than desolate! Had she +never seen him again, <i>her</i> disappointment could not have been so great. +Time might have taught her to consider him lost at sea, or taken by the +enemy, or killed in battle, or as having died a natural death. But as it +was, the tide had turned so suddenly; the change from the full flow to +the very lowest ebb was as instantaneous as if some gulf had swallowed +up the river, and left the channel dry. Clouds, black clouds intervened +between her and her lover. She had received a blight to all her hopes, +save one, and that was the last and best that any one could cleave to; +it was, “that God would change his heart, and one day make him see the +error of his way.”</p> + +<p>She little thought how distant that day was. But it seemed that her +sister’s words were at this time true: “Margaret, you will never marry +William Laud.”</p> + +<p>Margaret was in the little parlour of the Priory Farm, in all the agony +of terror and the perturbation of confessing her faults to her master +and mistress, when the murmur of returning voices told that the good +farmer’s men were coming from the shore. Her soul was so full—her heart +so anxious—her confession so open, so sincere—that even they who were +most angry with her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> could not find it in their hearts to be angry and +severe towards her at such a moment of distress. She was so full of +terror that she dared not to stir; she had no power to rise and make +inquiries upon the dreadful point upon which she wished to be most +satisfied. She heard the footsteps approach; and as the parlour-door +stood open, looking into the kitchen, she saw the young men bringing in +the heavy body of the youth, to whom, perhaps, she then owed her +existence; for her resolution had been formed, to have plunged into the +waves sooner than be taken away, against her will, by the smugglers. +Certainly she owed her present safety to the intrepid boldness of that +wounded man. She saw them bring him into the kitchen, pale, bloody, and, +as she first thought, lifeless; but a heavy groan, as they laid him down +upon the floor, by the fire, made her start up, and feel the first +spring of joy in her desponding heart, that he was not murdered. But the +joy that Laud was not his murderer was as great as that the youth was +not dead.</p> + +<p>Her mistress’s voice, calling to bring water and assist her, restored +her to a consciousness of her duties. Here might be seen the benefit of +active employment in diverting her mind from its most painful feelings, +rousing it to think, and turning it away from tormenting itself.</p> + +<p>The surgeon was sent for immediately; and after a short delay in +preparing a bed in a room by itself, the young man was carried up by his +companions. Never was there a more melancholy change from the mirth of +"harvest-home,” to the misery of a house of woe. To look into that +kitchen, which so shortly before was resounding with the cheerful voices +of merriment, and to see the long faces, to hear the whispers, and the +questions, and the remarks made upon the circumstances, presented a +scene so different and so painful, that description would fail to +express it. There sat the ancient fisherman, silent and thoughtful, his +left hand upon his forehead, and his right clutched convulsively with +his inward emotion. There stood the foreman of the field, with his +fellow-labourers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> anxious to know who it was that had given the wound; +for they had as yet only been told that two men in a boat had fired upon +Barry, and wounded him.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the old fisherman, who had witnessed the scene, was so +absorbed in his own reflections, that he did not seem disposed +voluntarily to afford them any information.</p> + +<p>At last one of them addressed Robin.</p> + +<p>“Who was the fellow that fired the gun, Robin?”</p> + +<p>“The foul fiend!" said Robin; “I saw him in the boat.”</p> + +<p>“What foul fiend? was he devil or man?”</p> + +<p>“He was a demon, who left me for a moment to torment others. I knew +mischief would come of him as soon as he left me. He is always stirring +up infernal broils; and would bring a host of enemies against me, if it +were not for this charm. Look here,” and taking from his side a +perforated bone, he held it up, saying, “this is the rib of Margery +Beddingfield, who was gibbeted on Rushmere Heath for the murder of her +husband. When I show him this, he will soon be off. This is so strong a +spell, he cannot touch me. But look! there he is! there he is!" and the +startled hinds closed round their lord, and looked fearfully in the +direction of the door, to see if the murderer was coming.</p> + +<p>“Aye, look at this, thou false fiend! Dost thou remember how thou didst +stir up Margery, and Richard Ringe of Sternfield, her paramour, to +murder John Beddingfield, the farmer, near Saxmundham? Thou couldst +inflame their hot young blood to mischief; but what dost thou come here +for? Off! off, I say! Look here! thou hadst better go to the officers of +justice. Ha! ha! he is gone!" and the old man smiled again, as if he had +defeated his foe, and was congratulating himself on the victory.</p> + +<p>These things were very unsatisfactory to the minds of these +plain-thinking countrymen. They again and again put questions to him, +but could get no other answers than incoherences about the foul fiend.</p> + +<p>“But what had Margaret Catchpole to do with it?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Ask her yourself: the foul fiend always finds an easier prey in a +woman.”</p> + +<p>At this time Margaret came into the room; and ignorant as she herself +was of Robin’s efficient aid, she could not help asking him if he had +seen the fight.</p> + +<p>“Did <i>you</i> see it, young woman? I saw you long before I saw the fight.”</p> + +<p>Margaret did not ask any more questions; for in another minute several +asked her who had been fighting, what it was for, and what she had to do +with it. She knew too well to speak would be to betray herself; and she +was glad to find they were in ignorance of the real perpetrator of the +deed. She was called into the parlour just then, and rejoiced to escape +the inquisitive demands of her fellow-servants.</p> + +<p>“That’s a clever girl,” said old Robin, as she left the +kitchen,—"that’s a clever girl. Which of you boys would like her for a +wife?”</p> + +<p>“Ask Will Simpson,” said a sly fellow.</p> + +<p>“Ask poor Jack Barry,” said another; “’tis my belief Jack got his blow +from a rival in Margaret’s love.”</p> + +<p>“What fiend told you that, young man? ’Tis seldom any of ‘em speak the +truth? But, perhaps, you know who he is that rivals Jack?”</p> + +<p>“No, not I—not I. I know who he would be, if he was alive; and just the +sort of fellow, too, to give Jack a nab. But he’s dead and gone long +ago, and maybe his bones are at the bottom of the sea, for he was killed +on Felixstowe beach.”</p> + +<p>“Who’s he? who’s he?”</p> + +<p>“Why, Will Laud, the smuggler. Don’t you know him, Robin?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but I never knew that he was dead.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, he’s dead enough. I saw a fellow who told me he helped to bury +him in the sands at the foot of the cliff.”</p> + +<p>“Then the foul fiend has brought him back to life again, for I have seen +him many times; and I spoke to him this very night, and he to me. Not +only so, I know him well; and I wish all the fiends had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> him before he +had given that brave lad his death-blow.”</p> + +<p>“What! Will Laud? you do not mean to say Will Laud was on the shore +to-night?”</p> + +<p>“Ask Margaret Catchpole: she can tell you as much as I.”</p> + +<p>Margaret returned just as this was said; and Will Simpson, perhaps as +much in spite (for Margaret had upon some occasion of his rudeness given +him such a specimen of her dexterity with a frying-pan, as left a +memorial on his head not easily to be forgotten or forgiven) as for +inquisitiveness, put this question—</p> + +<p>“I say, Peggy, who met you upon the shore to-night, eh?”</p> + +<p>“What’s that to you? A better man than you.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps a better Will, too; eh, Peggy? One who will have his will of +you, too, before you die, and tame you, my dear.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he may; and should it be so, he will make a ‘will o’ the wisp’ +of you, Simpson.”</p> + +<p>“He’ll be hanged first, Peggy, take my word for that. He’ll not be shot, +nor drowned: he’s born to be hanged.”</p> + +<p>“And what are you born for, you coward, that, at such a time as this, +you should be quarrelling with me?”</p> + +<p>“I’m born to be his informer; and, before long, I’ll have you both up +before the Squire, for all this piece of work.”</p> + +<p>Margaret did not like this banter; it looked as if they already knew +that Will Laud was the intruder. She was somewhat less ready at her +replies than usual, and felt too great a fear that she might commit +herself. She tried, therefore, to turn the subject.</p> + +<p>“My master, Robin, desires me to give you some supper.”</p> + +<p>“Thank your master, but I have had mine; and, but that I hoped to hear +what the doctor said to the poor young man upstairs, I should long ago +have been on board my boat.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>The greatest cowards are not easily silenced when they find themselves +able to browbeat an adversary with impunity, and that adversary a woman.</p> + +<p>“Well, Margaret, if you won’t tell me, I’ll tell you whom you met upon +the shore. You met one whom Robin says the foul fiend has raised to life +again.”</p> + +<p>Margaret turned very pale, and staggered to a chair. But Simpson still +went on.</p> + +<p>“O Peggy, Peggy, you have a guilty face! I don’t wonder at your feeling +shame. You’ve managed to hide the smuggler, have you? If you don’t take +care, both you and Will Laud will come to a bad end.”</p> + +<p>Margaret rushed into the parlour, and fell at her master’s feet, +imploring him to interfere and stop the reproaches of his men, who were +treating her in a way she did not deserve. Her mistress made her sit +down in the keeping-room; and, speaking a few words to her husband, he +left them. He remonstrated with his men, and was in the act of insisting +upon their departure to their homes, as Dr. Stebbing arrived. He was +desired at once to go into the parlour; and there he recognized that +high-spirited girl who, in the cause of humanity, had, in her childhood, +galloped the pony to Ipswich for his aid. She rose and curtseyed; but +her feet gave way under her, and she sank to the floor. The memory of +her dear sister, the doctor’s former patient, her own happiness at that +time, and her present misery, were too much for her to bear, and she was +quite overcome. The good doctor raised her up, and, with his cheerful +voice, tried, in his usual kind way, to comfort her.</p> + +<p>“Come, come, my girl, what’s the matter? what’s the matter? Are you the +patient I’m come all this way to see? I thought I was sent for to see a +young man. But what’s the matter with you? Ah! is it so, my lassie?” +(for his sagacity gave him a glimpse of the truth). “Come, cheer up, +cheer up; we’ll go and see the lad. I dare say he’ll soon be better. +Cheer up, cheer up.”</p> + +<p>“Come, my good sir, let us have a light, and go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> upstairs,” said the +doctor to the master of the house. “Now, my dear, go and fetch us a +towel and some warm water. Come, bestir yourself; I know it will do you +good.”</p> + +<p>This was the best medicine for Margaret, with whom to be told to do +anything, and not to go and do it, was almost an impossibility, so much +had she been accustomed to obey.</p> + +<p>All that could be done for the youth was to lay him in as easy a posture +as possible; for he was in too much agony even to have his clothes +removed. One of his companions sat and wiped the cold perspiration from +his brows, whilst another washed his hands and face. He breathed quickly +and heavily, with shuddering fits that shook the bed violently, and he +was evidently in great pain.</p> + +<p>“Come, my lads, come, lend me a hand—let us see—let us see! where is +the hurt?—where is the wound?—what’s the lad’s name?”</p> + +<p>“John Barry, sir.”</p> + +<p>“John, my lad, let’s look at you!" but John took no notice of the +doctor.</p> + +<p>“I think, sir, his arm is broke, for it dangled by his side all the way +we carried him.”</p> + +<p>“Let us see, my boy, let us see! ’Tis broken! high up too, too high up. +But we must strip him. Gently there—gently there, my lad"; and the +groans of the poor fellow told his agony. The work was done with great +care, and by slow degrees. But it was done, and then the frightful +nature of his wounds became conspicuous: a gunshot wound from the middle +of the arm to the shoulder. The ball had struck the humerus, and broken +it, glanced over the head of it, and passed between the scapula and +clavicle, and it might be easily felt lying in the external portion of +the trapezian muscle. It was so near the skin that it was easily +extracted; the difficulty was to get away those parts of the clothing +which had been carried into the wound. Such was the effect of the first +shot.</p> + +<p>The second was the most severe. It had pierced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> through the long dorsal +muscle, and the ball lay directly against the lumbar vertebrae. This +wound was the more agonizing because it had pierced the strongest +muscles of the human frame, and bruised the stoutest part of the +backbone.</p> + +<p>After the doctor had examined his wounds and ascertained that they were +of the most serious nature, he said—</p> + +<p>“This will be a work of time. Get some stimulants—put warm flannels on +his feet—his extremities are icy cold. He has had violent exertion—all +his muscles are hard and stiff. Put his hands in warm water. Wash his +temples with warm vinegar. There, there; come, my poor fellow, come; +consciousness will soon return.”</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes, looked at the doctor, then at his master, then at +his friends, and at last at Margaret, who was putting warm flannels to +his feet. He looked earnestly at her, spoke not, but a tear stole down +his face as he closed his eyes again.</p> + +<p>His wounds were now probed, cleaned, and dressed, as carefully as if he +had been one of the wealthiest squires or nobles of the land, and he was +then left for the night, attended by two of his fellow-servants, in case +he should need assistance or restraint.</p> + +<p>“There, there, good-night, John, good-night. I think you’ll do now. +Come, come, he feels a little easier. He breathes better"; and patting +his cheeks in his good-humoured way, Dr. Stebbing left him, and went +down into the parlour.</p> + +<p>There is always a little chit-chat with the doctor after the usual +labour of his profession is over, and he is quietly seated with the +family. It is then he judges of what is best for his patient, for at +such times the secrets of most families come forth; and if love or law, +if loss of stock or money, if cruelties, injuries, or any causes +whatever have been acting upon the patient’s mind, the doctor is sure to +be made the confidant.</p> + +<p>If the faculty could find out the means of supplying all their invalids +with such things as they really wanted,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> they would soon get well, but +in default of such means medicine and good advice—very necessary +articles in their way—are supplies in which the faculty seldom fail.</p> + +<p>“Doctor, will you take anything to-night? you have had a cold ride, and +will have another on your way home—shall my mistress give you anything +warm?”</p> + +<p>“I care not if she does. A little nutmeg in a little warm +brandy-and-water, and just one slice of your nice harvest-cake, and I +shall be comfortable.”</p> + +<p>The first question asked of the doctor was, “What he thought of his +patient?”</p> + +<p><a name="CORR_1" id="CORR_1"><ins class="correction" title="original: []Why he has got">“Why, he has got</ins></a> an ugly wound that will take months to heal. He will +not be able to be moved for six or seven weeks. Where do his parents +live?”</p> + +<p>“At Levington,” was the reply. “His father is tolerably well to do in +the world, though he has a large family. I have not a steadier young man +on my premises, nor a quieter, soberer, or better behaved lad, or a +better workman belonging to me.”</p> + +<p>“So much the better. But what does the old fisherman do in the kitchen? +I thought he never sat down in any house, but always kept to his boat?”</p> + +<p>“He is only waiting to speak to you, doctor. At least, he said he should +stop to hear your report.”</p> + +<p>“I should like to have one word with him.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll go and tell him so"; and off trotted the worthy farmer for Robin, +with whom he soon returned, and then, beckoning to his wife, they left +him and the doctor alone together.</p> + +<p>“Well, Robin, what an odd fish you are! I can never persuade you to come +into my kitchen, and here you are, hail fellow well met, with the +farmer’s men at Harvest-Home. How is this, Robin? I shall tell my +daughter of you, and leave her to set some of your foul fiends to work +upon you.”</p> + +<p>“They’ve been at work pretty well to-night, doctor, or else I’m wofully +mistaken. One of ’em has done a pretty job of mischief here; and it’s +well if he don’t do more before he’s done.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + +<p>The doctor understood his dialect, and knew how to get out of him what +he wanted.</p> + +<p>“Who did the foul fiend work upon? who was his victim?”</p> + +<p>“He left my boat, and went aboard Will Laud’s.”</p> + +<p>“What! the smuggler? I thought he was shot long ago.”</p> + +<p>“So others thought, but not I; for I saw him and a sturdy villain of his +pass my boat, with all their sails set; and when my Infernal Broiler +left me, and sat grinning on his mast, I knew he was up to mischief.”</p> + +<p>“What mischief, Robin?”</p> + +<p>“Why, look ye, doctor; you must ha’ seen the mischief. Ha’en’t you +dressed the young man’s wounds?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Robin; but how came your imp to be the cause of this?”</p> + +<p>“Nay, that you must ask the girl here; for seldom do my imps fail to +make mischief among the sex.”</p> + +<p>“Was it a love affair?”</p> + +<p>“Nay, it didn’t appear much o’ that.” And here Robin, in his quaint +language, well understood by the doctor, told his own tale as it +happened.</p> + +<p>“Well, Robin, all I can say is, that, but for you, one of the finest +young fellows in the land would have lost his life; and there’s a guinea +for you.”</p> + +<p>“No, no, master; give me a guinea for my fish, but don’t give me a +guinea for doing no more than I ought to do. Give it to the poor boy for +loss of time. I’ve got some good fish, and you may have some to-morrow +morning; but the fiends would torment me all night, if I went to my +hammock with a guinea for my reward. No, doctor, no. I thank you, too; +but tell me the boy will do well, and I’m well paid for my pains.”</p> + +<p>“He will do well, I think, Robin, if his mind be not disturbed.”</p> + +<p>The doctor felt, as perhaps the reader will, that the honest old +fisherman, bewitched and bewildered as he was, had more good feeling +about him than many a man of clearer head and a less scrupulous +conscience,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> who would have crept along the mud to pick up a guinea for +his dirty pocket.</p> + +<p>“Well, well, my boy, I shall not find such an odd fish in your boat as +your own self. You may bring up your basket to my door, and my daughter +will deal with you. Instead of a guinea, I must give you any charm that +you can ask me for.”</p> + +<p>“Keep to that, doctor, and I’ll ask you soon to give me one that I stand +much in need of, and which you only can furnish me with. You are surgeon +to the gaol, and I want something out of that place. I’ll tell you, one +of these days, what it is. My boat is now high and dry upon the shore. +You might ask some of the landsmen here to lend me a hand to get her +off. I shall be in Ipswich as soon as yourself.”</p> + +<p>No sooner was the request made than it was granted; and Robin and five +or six good stout fellows were on the shore, and soon shoved the boat +off, which, quicker than the men could walk upon the sand, moved on her +native element to the well-timed stroke of the able fisherman.</p> + +<p>The doctor’s first introduction to the flying Margaret is well known to +the reader. His knowledge of her under those circumstances made him feel +for her; but there were some questions he wished to put to her, as his +curiosity had been excited by what Robin had revealed. The farmer had +already given him some hint about her confessions; but the doctor wanted +to find out whether, after what had taken place that night, the tide of +her affections might not have turned a little toward his patient. It was +a delicate question to ask, but he thought he would find it out by +another plan; so he desired to see Margaret in the parlour before he +left the house.</p> + +<p>“I did not half like your look, my girl, when I first saw you to-night. +Come hither; let me feel your pulse: let me look at your tongue. Your +pulse is quick, and you’ve some fever hanging about you.”</p> + +<p>“I thank you, sir, I shall be better to-morrow. I’m very sorry for what +has happened.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You could not help it, my girl—you could not help it; it was not your +fault.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know that, sir,—I don’t know that. I blame myself much; +but—but—”</p> + +<p>“But you don’t like to blame anybody else, Margaret; I know you.”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, that’s the truth; but yet he was to blame.”</p> + +<p>“Who? Barry?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir, no; but he who shot him.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, he was a cowardly fellow. What induced him to do it?”</p> + +<p>“Because Barry’s brother shot <i>him</i>. I suspect he was excited at the +remembrance of his own sufferings, and urged on to desperation by the +fellow that was with him; and, in a moment of madness, thought to +revenge himself.”</p> + +<p>“This was not right, Margaret; it was still very cowardly.”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, it was; but—but, I do not defend him, sir.”</p> + +<p>“What then, Margaret? what then?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I was to blame, sir!”</p> + +<p>“Why so?”</p> + +<p>“Because I told him Barry loved me, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Ho, ho! a little jealousy, was it? Was it so, Margaret? Well, well, he +will be more jealous now.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry for it, sir. Had I not thought he would have known my +preference for him, I should not have told him this. It is this I blame +myself for, as much as I do him. I hope Barry will do well, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Your hopes may be disappointed, Margaret. His is a very bad case; and, +if he dies, Will Laud will be hanged.”</p> + +<p>“Then you know all, sir? Oh, pray save him if you can, sir!”</p> + +<p>“Who?”</p> + +<p>“John Barry, sir,—John Barry.”</p> + +<p>“Margaret, do you love him?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; yes—yes, sir. I think he is a very good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> young man, and he +would be a great loss to his parents.”</p> + +<p>“More so than to you, my girl?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, sir, yes. I’m sure I wish him well, and shall always feel +grateful to him for his kindness to me. I do hope he will recover, sir, +for Laud’s sake.”</p> + +<p>This was enough; the doctor now knew all. He saw that his patient was in +love with Margaret, but that Margaret loved another. He was in +possession of the whole secret. He promised to do all he could; he +dismissed the girl; and, after a few minutes’ further chat with the +master and mistress of the house, and strongly advising them to send for +Barry’s parents in the morning, he took his leave. His little bay pony +soon rattled up Gainsborough’s Lane, through the open fields towards the +Race-course, and over Bishop’s Hill, to the town of Ipswich.</p> + +<p>Barry’s parents were not long in coming to their son, nor long in +learning the real state both of his mind and body. It is the happiest +time to die when a parent’s tender care is round you. Then the agony of +suffering is greatly relieved, and the heart can open its most inward +thoughts. It turns, with such filial respect and thankfulness, towards +those whom it does not like to grieve, but who are always the most +quick-sighted to see our wants and to relieve our distresses. So gentle +is a mother’s love—so delicate, so soothing, so healing to the youthful +mind, that nature almost decays with pleasure before her soft +attentions. Nor is a father’s manliness and feeling less sensibly +experienced at such a time. He may not have a woman’s gentleness, but he +has a firmness and a quietness of action which are seldom seen at other +times, and which make a sick room seem more calm and sufferable. He has +quite as deep feeling, though it is more subdued. Who that ever has been +ill in his youth, and has seen the kindness of parental love, but has +thought that he never could die happier than when his fond parents were +near him?</p> + +<p>So thought young Barry when his parents were by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> his side; and not only +thought so, but plainly told them that he wished to die.</p> + +<p>“I hope not yet, my boy,” said his father. “The young sapling may get a +blight, but it soon recovers, and springs up vigorously; but the old +trees naturally decay. I hope to go first, my boy.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, father, such may be your hope and natural expectation; but Heaven +avert it! You have others to live for; may I never live to see your +death!”</p> + +<p>“Come, John, do not give way to such feelings. You know not yet what the +good God may have in store for you.”</p> + +<p>“He has, indeed, been good to me, father, and has left me nothing more +to wish for in this world.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not for your own benefit, John; but we are not always to die +just when we wish it. Neither are we to live merely for ourselves. We +are called upon to live for others; and more may be expected of us on +this account than upon our own. We are not to be such selfish beings as +to think, ‘The wind blows only for our own mill.’”</p> + +<p>“I meant not to find fault, father; but I am disappointed, and feel +therefore useless.”</p> + +<p>“I know your disappointment, boy; but I would not have you take it so to +heart as to let it prey upon your spirits. There are others far better +and more worthy of you, who may esteem you, John, for your good conduct +and character; and one of such may make you an excellent companion for +life.”</p> + +<p>“Father, I know I am not so wise as you are. I have not your experience; +yet this I feel and say, that I hope you will never find fault with that +poor girl.”</p> + +<p>“I will not, John, in your presence; but how can a father help feeling +hurt and angry with a girl who prefers a smuggler to an honest man?”</p> + +<p>“That may or may not be a fault; but you just now told me we should live +for others, and not be so selfish as to think only of ourselves. Now, I +do believe that Margaret lives only in the hope that Will Laud will +become an altered man.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>“He never will! A lawless villain, who will revenge a blow upon the +innocent hand that never gave it, has a heart too reprobate and stony +ever to change.”</p> + +<p>“You will not say it is impossible?”</p> + +<p>“I did not mean to say it is a thing impossible with God; but you seemed +to think that, by Margaret’s influence, such a change might be effected. +This, I say, will never be. Laud may influence her, and may corrupt her +mind; but, take my word for it, the man whose love is swallowed up in +the violence of passion, as his is, will never produce anything good. He +will be a selfish villain even towards the poor unfortunate victim of +his choice.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, father, would that you could persuade Margaret of this! She is +indeed a good girl, and a warm-hearted one; and, had she received any +education, would have been as good and respectable as my own dear +mother.”</p> + +<p>“All this may be, John; but, if I could persuade you out of this fit of +fancy, I then might have hope that I should have some power of +persuasion with Margaret. Till then I shall stand no chance. For, if I +cannot root the weeds out of my own ground, how shall I be fit to work +for others?”</p> + +<p>The young man sighed deeply, and could answer no more. He felt the force +of the superior wisdom of his father; and, owning to himself that there +was much truth in the remark, felt how difficult it would indeed be to +conquer in his own heart his hopeless attachment.</p> + +<p>In due time, Barry’s wounds progressed towards recovery, and it was +agreed among his fellow-labourers that, before the cold weather should +set in, they would form a corps for carrying him home to Levington. +Twelve undertook the task; and, one fine October day, they managed to +place him and his bed upon a frame, made for the occasion, to which were +attached shoulder-pieces, and so conveyed him to his father’s residence, +where all things were made ready by his mother’s hand for his +reception.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br /><span style="font-size:70%">EVIL WAYS</span></a></h2> + + +<p>Onward went the boat to the haven at the mouth of the river, and the two +guilty souls in her felt that they had narrowly escaped capture, and +that, if the law of the land should ever lay hold upon them, they would +both have to rue the foul deed they had committed. But the law of the +land had long been set at defiance by them; and they owned none but +those of the wind and weather, which compelled them to run for foreign +ports, and to slink into those of their own country at the dead of +night.</p> + +<p>After various congratulations upon their luck in getting off, and making +many remarks upon the late encounter, they turned to their duties as +sailors, kept their boat trim, and scudded along, with all sails set, +toward the <i>Alde</i>, which now lay in the shade of Felixstowe Cliff, +moored, as if waiting wind and tide to carry her up the river. They were +well acquainted with the spot, and bore away through the bright +moonlight, reached the mouth of the river, and were at length lifted up +by the rolling waves of old Ocean, which came tumbling in from the +harbour’s mouth.</p> + +<p>“The light burns low by the water’s edge, and is hidden from the +sentinel on Landguard Fort. All’s right; we shall be on board +presently.”</p> + +<p>Soon did they run along the side of the dark cutter; and giving the +signal, “Aldeburgh", were well understood by the dark-looking sailor who +kept watch upon the forecastle of the ship. All was right; and when the +captain came on board, all hands were had up, the sails quickly set, and +the anchor weighed. Luff took the helm, the captain retired to his +cabin, and in a short time the boat was hoisted in, and away they dashed +to sea.</p> + +<p>The dark dreams of the captain were mingled with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> the visions of his +past failure, and disturbed with the jealousy and hatred of all the +Barrys. The phosphoric lights upon the sea, as the vessel glided through +the waves, made it look like a boiling ocean of flame, like burning +waters; and the spray which the waves gave off resembled smoke. They +were fiery spirits who lived on board that vessel, as ardent as the +liquid flame they bore in their tubs, and about as productive of good. +Could the history of every one on board the <i>Alde</i> be told, it would +make the blood curdle in the veins of many a stout landsman. They were +pirates as well as smugglers. Secrecy and crime went hand-in-hand with +them. Daylight and honesty were things scarcely known amongst them.</p> + +<p>The chief employer of these men lived, as the reader knows, in tolerable +repute, sometimes at one place, sometimes at another. He had many +vessels at sea, and Captain Bargood was as well known on the opposite +side of the German Ocean as on this. He accumulated riches, but he never +enjoyed them. He lived in a kind of terror, which those only who have +felt it can describe. He outlived, however, all his ships and all his +ships’ companies; and looked, to the day of his death, an old +weather-beaten log, which had outstood storms and tempests, and come +ashore at last to be consumed. He prided himself, in his old days, upon +the many daring captains he had made, and the manner in which he had +secretly commanded them. He had a regular register of their appointments +and their course, how many trips each ship had taken, how she paid, how +she was lost or taken, and what became of her and her crew. That fearful +log-book could tell of many a horrid tale. It would also serve to show +the enormous extent of illicit traffic carried on at that period by one +man alone.</p> + +<p>We must now return to the <i>Alde</i>. While dashing through the sea, past +the sand-bank, or bar, at the mouth of the Deben, those on board saw a +solitary light burning in Ramsholt Church, a sign that she might send a +boat on shore in safety. Luff undertook<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> to go. He did so, and found a +messenger from Captain Bargood to land the cargo at the Eastern Cliff, +as the coastguard had received information that a run was going to take +place at Sizewell Gap, and they had therefore drawn away their men, that +their force at that point might be strong enough.</p> + +<p>The work was soon done, and the desperate crew betook themselves to the +cave, to spend a night of revel and carouse, such as spirits like theirs +only could delight in.</p> + +<p>To the surprise of many, Will Laud remained on board, and preferred +taking a cruise, and coming in again the following night for the ship’s +company. The fact, however, was, that he was afraid of the land. The +consciousness of his guilt, and the fear of the revenge of Barry, should +the coast-guard hear of his attack upon young Barry, the brother, acted +upon his nerves, and made him think himself safe only on the broad sea.</p> + +<p>A certain number of men always remained on board to take the vessel out +of sight of the land until the night, and then only were these +free-traders able to near the shore. The lives of these men were always +in jeopardy, and none of them ever turned out good husbands or friends. +When they were compelled to leave off the contraband traffic, they +generally took to poaching, and led fearful and miserable lives; which, +if traced to the close, would generally be found to end in sorrow, if +not in the extremity of horror.</p> + +<p>John Luff had an interview with Captain Bargood, and then told him of +Will Laud’s awkward situation upon the banks of the Orwell.</p> + +<p>“A lucky fellow to escape as he did!" exclaimed Bargood. “He might have +been at this moment in Ipswich gaol, and from thence he would only have +escaped through the hangman’s hands.”</p> + +<p>“We must keep him out of the way, sir. We must again report him killed, +and change his name from Hudson. He is already known as Will Laud, and +his fame will spread along the shore.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Well, he is a lucky fellow. He should go round the world. I’ll send +him, ship and crew, a good long voyage. Something may be done in the +fur-trade this winter. I have received a notice that I might send a +ship, and cheat the Hudson’s Bay Company of a good cargo of skins. What +shall we dub the captain?”</p> + +<p>“Let’s call him Captain Cook; I’ll tell the crew it’s your desire to +have the captain honoured for his success by giving him the title of the +great navigator.”</p> + +<p>“That will do, John—that will do. Take these orders to Captain Cook. +Give these presents to the men. Tell them to disperse themselves upon a +visit to their friends, and meet again at the Cliff on the 12th of next +month, for the purpose of making a long voyage. In the meantime do you +and the captain contrive to get the ship into friendly quarters abroad, +and if you like to run ashore yourselves, there is my cottage at Butley +Moor, and you can take possession of it. But keep yourselves quiet. Five +of the crew belong to Butley, and I know what they will be up to. Do not +let Captain Cook go up the Orwell again, if you can help it, and steer +clear of the coastguard.”</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, master, I’ll manage"; and, leaving the old commodore, he +returned to the cave, and reached it at the precise moment when the +hardy fellows were drinking “Long life to Jack Luff!”</p> + +<p>“I’m just come in time, boys, to make you all return thanks instead of +me. I wish you all long life and good luck. I’ve got you all near three +weeks’ run ashore. So here’s your healths! But I say, boys, the +commodore approves our young captain, and has appointed him a good +voyage next turn; and as he is to sail across the Atlantic, he wills +that you all should join in calling him Captain Cook.”</p> + +<p>“With all our hearts! With all our hearts!" exclaimed several of the +crew. “But what were you saying about the three weeks’ run?”</p> + +<p>“Why, that you must all be here by the 12th of October. In the meantime, +if you want to see me or the captain, you will find us after next week +at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> green-windowed cottage at Butley. Till then, my boys, follow +your own fun. Here’s your pay, and a present besides for each.”</p> + +<p>A noisy shout issued through that dark and dreary cavern. They were not +long in obeying their employer’s orders. By twos and threes they +dispersed, some to Boyton, some to Butley, some to Shottisham, Ramsholt, +Bawdsey, Hollesley, Felixstowe, one or two as far as Trimley, Nacton, +and Ipswich.</p> + +<p>The country was too hot for some of them, who, being suspected of being +concerned in the attack made upon young Barry, were looked after in +order to be prosecuted for attempt at murder. All pains had been taken; +rewards offered, their persons described; and so nearly did some of the +crew resemble the description of their companions, that they had to cut +their cables, and run for the furthest port in safety. John Luff and the +captain took up their quarters again by Butley Moor, and employed +themselves, as before, in the dangers, and to them familiar sports, of +poaching.</p> + +<p>The 12th of October came, and the smugglers returned to their places of +meeting, and the captain and his mate met them at the cave. Two only did +not come to the muster, and these two were always suspected of being +rather “shy cocks.”</p> + +<p>“I say, captain,” said one of the men, “I had like to have suffered for +you, and Tim Lester for Jack Luff. Two fellows laid an information +against us, and swore that we were the men who attempted to murder young +Barry. The hundred pounds’ reward would have made them stick to it as +close as a nor’-wester to the skin. We cut our cables, and ran off and +escaped. The country around is hot enough after you both, so the sooner +we are on board the better.”</p> + +<p>Accordingly, stores were soon shipped, anchors, cables, spars, and +rigging carried on board, orders given, and “far, far at sea they +steered their course.”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X<br /><span style="font-size:70%">THE PARTING</span></a></h2> + + +<p>Unaffected was the joy with which the parents and family of young Barry +received their brave son into their peaceful cot. The good miller and +his wife welcomed the pale and dejected youth with that quiet, composed, +and affectionate interest which at once soothes and comforts a sick +soul.</p> + +<p>The young man had more upon his mind than he chose to speak of, and a +heavy weight upon his spirits, which not all the cheerfulness of his +brothers and sisters and parents could allay. His wounds gradually +healed; but his weakness continued, and he appeared to be suffering some +internal torture which prevented his sleeping at night. He read, and +tried to improve his mind; but it availed nothing. His sisters, too, +sought every opportunity to afford him diversion; but the languid smile +and forced expression of thankfulness told that, although he felt +grateful, he did not relish their mirth. He looked intently into the +newspaper, especially into all matters connected with the coast and +coastguard; and when he read of any skirmish with the smugglers, he was +feverishly anxious to know who they were. He also expressed a particular +wish to see his brother Edward.</p> + +<p>Though the miller could not say exactly when Edward might be expected +home, he resolved to send to the stations where he might be found, and +urge him to obtain leave of absence.</p> + +<p>It was not long before that leave was given, and he returned to visit +his parents and his invalid brother. The young men mutually rejoiced to +see each other, and were not long in comparing notes upon their separate +adventures.</p> + +<p>“I prophesy I shall catch him one of these days,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> said Ned; “and if I +do, he shall never remember his last escape. We know him well when we +see him, but the fellow changes his name as often as he does his place, +so that our information is frequently contradictory. If once I have a +chance of changing shots with him again, Jack, he shall pay me for those +cowardly wounds in your side.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, Ned, I had rather that the sea swallowed him up, than that you +should shoot him.”</p> + +<p>“How then would you know he was dead, Jack? His ship might be lost, and +the wreck driven on shore; but we should not know it, and he might or +might not escape. There’s nothing like a bullet for certainty.”</p> + +<p>“But you would know him, if you saw his body cast ashore?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that I should; and I would soon let you know it, too.”</p> + +<p>“Well, if I must hope for his destruction, I would rather it were in +this way than by your hand.”</p> + +<p>“For your sake, Jack, I should be satisfied with it so; but, for my own +part, I have no compunction in shooting a desperado like him, who lives +upon the vitals of others, and fights against his king and country, and +sets at defiance all laws, human and divine. He would kill any man that +opposed his nefarious traffic; and, as I am one that he has sworn to +attack by land or by sea, whether in war or peace, I see no reason why I +should not defend your life and my own, even though it may cost the +taking away of his.”</p> + +<p>The sufferer did not argue the point any further; and especially as +there were reasons of a private nature which had a powerful influence +upon his mind. He revived very much during his brother’s stay, and +seemed to be more cheerful than at any former period of his illness. He +even assisted in the labours of the mill, and by little and little began +to pick up strength. His brother’s leave of absence, however, expired; +and the two were seen to walk away together over the hill, arm-in-arm, +in the most earnest and deep conversation.</p> + +<p>“Never fear, Jack; I will keep your secret honestly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> and render you all +the help in my power. I will let you know our movements.”</p> + +<p>“And take care of yourself, Ned, and do not risk your life for my sake. +If you should fall, what should I feel?”</p> + +<p>“I hope you would feel that I fell in a good cause, brother. At least, I +do feel it so myself, or I should not be a happy man. No man can be +happy, John, who even thinks that he is doing wrong.”</p> + +<p>“God preserve you, dear brother! Farewell!”</p> + +<p>The two brothers parted, one to his duties at Dunwich, where his station +then was, the other to his home and thoughts.</p> + +<p>Anticipation is the greatest quickener of mortal spirits. There is +something so lively in the expectation of things upon which the heart is +fixed, that even time passes quickly by during the period in which hope +is so vivid. But there is a point at which the tide turns, and as +gradually operates in a reverse manner, when the heart sickens, +desponds, and grows gloomy.</p> + +<p>Young Barry returned from his parting walk with his brother in high +spirits, elated with hope, and better both in mind and body. He assisted +his father in his work, and was at times playful with his sisters. So +much did his health improve at this time, that his parents began to hope +that the ensuing spring would see him perfectly restored.</p> + +<p>And where, all this time, was she, the unfortunate cause of all his +misery, and the most unintentional marplot in this history? She was as +great a sufferer as he could possibly be. Nothing could equal her +distress of mind at the turn affairs had taken. A bodily affliction +might have proved a comfort to her. She felt, after all that had taken +place, that the indulgence of her kind master and mistress should be +rewarded with more than usual exertions on her part. She had stirring +employment for her hands, as well as much exertion for her mind.</p> + +<p>It would have been a pleasant thing for her could she have been absent +when the sharp gibes of her fellow-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>servants would torment her with +insinuations. There is dreadful cruelty in that man’s heart who delights +to torment a creature which cannot defend itself. Poor Margaret felt +that she had no defence to set up, and no friend to defend her. To hear +the hopes expressed that Laud might be soon taken, and the reward talked +of for his apprehension, and the wishes expressed by some that they +might have the opportunity of handling the cash: these things, coming +from those whom she met every day, made her present position very +uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>More than once, one would announce at dinner-time that the smuggler had +been seen on shore and captured. Again, it was stated that he was taken +in an open boat at sea. And if a sailor chanced to call at the house, +Margaret’s heart was in a flutter lest he should be seen by some of the +men, and she should be ridiculed. These things kept the poor girl’s +heart in a constant state of apprehension, and evidently affected her +health; whilst the accounts brought to the farm, from time to time, of +young Barry’s protracted sufferings, were anything but satisfactory to +her. Her master and mistress were uniformly kind to her, or she could +not have borne her sufferings. As it was, she found herself so +uncomfortable, that she resolved to give her mistress warning, and to +leave her as soon as she could suit herself with another servant. She +begged her mistress not to think that she was dissatisfied with her or +with her work: she told her plainly that she suffered so much from the +taunts, and even the looks, of the men upon the farm, that she could not +live there, and she was resolved to go home to her parents.</p> + +<p>About the latter end of the ensuing November, Margaret returned to her +parents; and if she did not live quite so well as she had done, she +lived, at all events, in peace.</p> + +<p>It was at this moment of her utmost poverty that Margaret’s love and +fortitude were put to the severest trial. In the depth of the winter, +she received an unexpected visit from young Barry, who, claiming as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> he +did a more than common interest in her fate, and a more than passing +share of her acquaintance, well knew that he should not be denied +admission into her father’s cottage. He entered, looking extremely pale +and thin; but Margaret was glad to see him; and more especially as he +declared that he had walked all the way from Levington. She dusted a +seat for him; and placed it by the crackling fagot-fire, requesting him +to rest himself after his walk. It was about half-past two o’clock in +the afternoon; her father was cutting fagots on the heath; her mother, +who had been unwell, had gone upstairs to lie down; her youngest brother +was attending the sheep; and she was alone at the time young Barry +entered. He seated himself, and answered her kind inquiries after his +health, and received her grateful expressions of thankfulness for his +kindness to her upon former occasions, and especially upon that day when +he had received his wound.</p> + +<p>Barry heard this with that true modesty which a good man always feels. +He said it was only his duty; he regretted the conduct of his former +friends and fellow-labourers, which had driven Margaret from her place, +and he asked her if she intended to go to service again. She replied, +"Not in this part of the country. I hope soon to go and stay with my +Uncle Leader at Brandiston, who, though he has a large family of his +own, has yet kindly consented to take me in, if I should want a home.”</p> + +<p>“Margaret,” said the young man, fixing his eyes upon her intently, “are +you in want of a home, and are there any circumstances in the world that +will ever induce you to share mine with me? I am come over for no other +purpose than to ask you this question. Give me a hopeful answer.”</p> + +<p>It is impossible for any woman, with a woman’s heart, not to feel +grateful to an honourable man, who, regarding not the poverty and +reverse of circumstances which she may have experienced, renews those +earnest vows which once, in happier days, he had before offered. +Margaret felt young Barry’s kindness, and owned it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> with the deepest +thankfulness, if not in words of eloquence, yet in words of such +simplicity and earnestness, as spoke the noble resolution of a good and +honest, though, alas, mistaken mind!</p> + +<p>“I do not say, John, that there are no circumstances under which I might +not be induced to accept your kindness, and for which I might not +endeavour to render you the service and obedience of my whole life; but +there is one circumstance which would utterly preclude my acceptance of +your offer; yet forgive me if I say, I hope that one circumstance will +for ever exist.”</p> + +<p>“What is that one, Margaret? Name it.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, John, you know it well. I have told you before, that as long as I +know that Will Laud is living, or at least until I know that he is dead, +I will never marry any other man.”</p> + +<p>“But you must know, Margaret, the dangerous life he leads, and the +precarious tenure by which that life is held, subject as it is to all +the perils of the sea.”</p> + +<p>“Alas! I know it well; but there is a God who governs and directs all +things for good, and I hope still that the day of grace and penitence +may arrive, in which, though fickle as he now is, he may be altered and +improved. Nothing is impossible; and as long as life lasts, so long will +I have hope.”</p> + +<p>“But your hopes, Margaret, may be blighted—it may be that the sea +itself may devour him.”</p> + +<p>“It may be so. It will require something more than the bare report of +such a calamity to convince me of the fact, even though years should +bring no tidings of him.”</p> + +<p>“But if you should have the truth asserted by one who should chance to +see him perish, would that be sufficient proof?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir, no! Except I know from my own sight, or from the most positive +evidence of more than one, I could not trust to it.”</p> + +<p>“But if you were at last convinced of his death, might I then hope?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + +<p>“It will be time to speak to me of that if God should grant me life +beyond that dreadful time; but, now that I think of your +kindheartedness, and know how unwilling you are to give unnecessary +pain, I begin to fear that you have some melancholy tidings to +communicate. Speak, John, speak!—your manner is unusual, and your +conversation is too ominous. Have you heard anything of Laud? Pray +speak, and tell me at once.”</p> + +<p>This was more than the youth could at once perform. He had been so +carried away by his own passion, that he had not foreseen the effect +which his own unwelcome tidings might occasion. He now heartily wished +that he had left it for others to communicate. He hesitated, looked +painfully distressed, and was disconcerted at his own precipitancy.</p> + +<p>“I know, John, by your manner, that you have something to tell me, +though you seem afraid to utter it. Tell me the worst, tell me the +worst!”</p> + +<p>“Margaret, I own that I have been too abrupt. My own hopes have made me +overlook the shock I know you will experience; but I had really no +intention of giving you pain. The worst is, that which I have often +thought would come to pass—Will Laud is dead!”</p> + +<p>“How do you know that?”</p> + +<p>“I saw him myself this very morning.”</p> + +<p>“Where? where?”</p> + +<p>“At Bawdsey Ferry.”</p> + +<p>“How knew you it was Laud?”</p> + +<p>“My brother saw his boat coming ashore in the gale last night, saw it +driven upon the rocks inside the bar, and smashed to pieces. Laud, with +three others, was cast on the shore quite dead. My brother sent me word +with the morning’s light. I would not even trust to his report, so I +went to Bawdsey and saw him. I then hastened to be the first to convey +the intelligence to you. Forgive me, Margaret, that my selfish thoughts +should have made me forget your feelings.”</p> + +<p>“I can forgive <i>you</i>; but I never should forgive myself, if I did not go +directly and judge from my own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> sight if it be really so. I have long +made up my mind to hear unpleasant tidings; but I have never been +without hope that something would alter him.”</p> + +<p>“I fear that he was too desperate ever to reform.”</p> + +<p>“I did not think he could reform himself. I lived in hopes that some +severe blow might bring him to his senses; but I must go and see. In the +meantime let me request you not to mention those matters to me again; at +least, let me have time to think of the past and consider of the +future.”</p> + +<p>“You will pardon me, Margaret, and attribute to my regard for you the +precipitate step I have taken upon this occasion.”</p> + +<p>“Where lies the body of poor Laud?” said Margaret, without seeming to +hear what Barry had last said.</p> + +<p>“It is in the boat-house at Bawdsey Ferry, together with the three +others.”</p> + +<p>“I will go there to-day.” And she immediately prepared to fulfil her +resolution.</p> + +<p>“How will you go? Will you let me drive you there? I can obtain a horse +and cart; and I think you know me well enough to be persuaded of my +care.”</p> + +<p>“I do not doubt it, sir, but I had rather not go with you. I have no +objection to be your debtor for the horse and cart, but my youngest +brother will drive me.”</p> + +<p>“It shall be here in half an hour. May I offer you any other aid?”</p> + +<p>“None, sir, whatever. You have my thanks; and I so far consider your +honesty and truth deserves my esteem, that, by to-morrow at this time, +if you will pay us another visit, I shall be glad to see you.”</p> + +<p>“It is all that I could wish or hope. Till then, Margaret, good-bye.”</p> + +<p>Young Barry left with a heart somewhat easier, though touched with pain +for the poor girl. He had, however, seen the only being who stood +between him and his affections laid a helpless corpse upon the boat. +Hope took the place of despair—he soon obtained the horse and cart, and +sent them to their destination.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p>Barry’s anxiety was greatly increased as the day wore away, and a night +of feverish suspense succeeded. Sleep was quite out of the +question—every hour he heard the clock strike in the room beneath him. +He saw the grey dawn approach, and beheld the gradually increasing light +clearer and clearer shining, and throughout the whole livelong night he +dwelt but upon one theme—that theme was Margaret!</p> + +<p>He rose next morning, looking, as his friends declared, like a ghost. He +ate no breakfast—he could not talk—he could not work; but could only +walk about, lost in abstracted meditation. The dinner-hour came with +noon, but he could eat nothing—he had neither appetite, speech, nor +animation. No efforts of his parents could call forth any of his +energies—they knew he had been to see his brother; but they could not +get him to declare the purport of his visit. He said that his brother +was well; that nothing had happened to him; that he had seen him quite +well; and that he was promoted a step in the service; and that he was +constantly employed. It was evident to them that something was preying +upon the young man’s mind which he would not disclose. They did not, +however, distress him with questions; and after dinner, he departed from +the house, and was observed to walk toward Nacton.</p> + +<p>He found Margaret returned, and seated by the fireside, as she was the +day before when he visited her. She looked very pale and thoughtful. The +young man took this as a necessary consequence of the shock she had +received at the sight of her lover’s corpse, little dreaming that at +that very moment she was actually feeling for the distress of him who +then stood before her.</p> + +<p>“Well, Margaret, I am come, according to your appointment.”</p> + +<p>“I am very grateful to you for your assistance. I should never have +forgiven myself had I not gone. I saw your brother, sir, and he was very +kind to me. Through his permission I obtained a sight of the bodies in +the boat-house, and he told me concerning the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> melancholy wreck of the +schooner; but—but both you and your brother, sir, are mistaken.”</p> + +<p>The heart of the youth was so stricken, he could not for a time utter +one single word—he sat all astonishment, all dismay, all agony, all +despair. There was no joyful congratulation for Margaret, there was no +apology for his mistake—feelings too deep for utterance overpowered +him.</p> + +<p>Margaret saw and felt, in the midst of her own hope, the painful +disappointment of his, nor could she summon courage to utter more. After +the most afflicting silence, John Barry, as if he could not doubt his +own and his brother’s eyes, said—</p> + +<p>“Are you sure I was mistaken?”</p> + +<p>“Quite,” said Margaret; “quite.”</p> + +<p>“And my brother, how could he be so deceived? he knew Laud so well.”</p> + +<p>“Few knew him better, but I convinced him that he was mistaken. I asked +him where the wound was upon the forehead, which he had given him, and +which I had such difficulty in healing. It certainly was very like Laud, +and, had I not well considered him, I also might have been deceived; but +I am glad I went. Your brother is quite satisfied upon the point, but +very much hurt to think of the grief he has occasioned you. He felt very +sorry, also, for the pain which he kindly imagined I must have felt, +which, however, was greatly relieved by the joy I experienced in proving +to his satisfaction that he was mistaken. He declared that, for my sake, +he would never injure Will Laud if he could help it. Oh, how I wish that +Will could have heard that declaration! I am persuaded that they would +have been good friends from that time. I think you will find your +brother at Levington upon your return, for I know he asked permission of +Lieutenant Brand to let him visit his father for a day upon very urgent +business. I suspect this is but to see you, and explain to you his +mistake.”</p> + +<p>“Margaret, I ought to have felt more for you than for myself. I wish you +well—I scarcely now can hope.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> I am indeed wretched, but it is my duty +to strive against these feelings—I know it is. But here in this country +I cannot remain—I must go abroad. I must see if I can get a grant of +land in Canada—I cannot live here; but I shall never forget you, +Margaret, never!—and may I hope that you will sometimes think of me?”</p> + +<p>“I can never forget you; and, depend upon it, wherever you may be, I +shall never cease to be grateful for your past kindness to a poor +unfortunate girl like myself. God will prosper you, sir—I am sure He +will. I am far too unworthy your notice. At all times I will pray for +your happiness.”</p> + +<p>“I know not where I shall go, Margaret. I will see you but once more +before I go; but now good-bye.”</p> + +<p>They shook hands and parted—each felt a sincere wish for the other’s +welfare. One felt that the hopes of his life were blighted; the other, +that her vows of attachment were unalterable.</p> + +<p>Young Barry returned home, and found, as Margaret had supposed, his +brother Edward, who had been there some time before his return. It +needed but a look to tell what each felt. They took a turn round the +fields, and were seen arm-in-arm together. They were mutually satisfied +with each other.</p> + +<p>Edward Barry saw and admired his brother’s choice, for until then he had +never been prepossessed in her favour. The warmth of feeling which she +betrayed when looking at the countenance of her supposed lover, as he +lay in the boat-house, and the pure and simple joy at discovering the +mistake; the very sensible manner in which she proved that she could not +be mistaken; the gratitude she felt, and the exemplary manner in which +she conducted herself, all conspired to give him a high opinion of the +character of this young woman, and made him feel that, notwithstanding +the strong wish he had entertained for Laud’s death, for he had even +counted upon being opposed in deadly skirmish with him, he never could +take his life<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> without giving a deep wound to one innocent and deserving +heart.</p> + +<p>Young Barry became another being—his health improved rapidly; he began +to work, and to talk of future days with cheerfulness.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI<br /><span style="font-size:70%">THE LAST INTERVIEW</span></a></h2> + +<p>About this time a new settlement was projected at New South Wales, and +Government had already sent several convict ships to Botany Bay and Port +Jackson; but the unruly state of the people, and the necessary military +government of the colony, made it very desirable that some respectable +settlers should be induced to go out. Accordingly, whenever store-ships +were sent, a premium was offered for farmers’ sons or farming men to +emigrate. One hundred acres of land for as many dollars were granted: +still very few could be induced to go. It was not for some years that +any regular settlers’ ship went out with free passengers.</p> + +<p>Young Barry conversed with his father upon this subject, and found him +quite disposed to let him have double the above-named sum, and even +encouraged the idea in the youth’s mind.</p> + +<p>It so happened that Captain Johnson, who commanded one of the earliest +store-ships which was sent to that colony, was acquainted with +Lieutenant Brand, and had written to ask him if there was any young +farmer who would like to go out with him from Suffolk. It was through +him that young Barry got an introduction to Captain Johnson, who +promised him a good berth, and every convenient accommodation. It was +soon resolved that John Barry should forthwith get a grant of land; and, +being furnished with all requisite particulars, he went to London to see +his ship, and make arrangements with his captain.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p>All his family now felt a double interest in him because he was going +away, to leave them, perhaps, for ever—at all events for a very long +period. His sisters worked hard to make him such changes of linen as +should last him for years; and every hand they could muster in the +village, capable of doing needle-work, was fully employed. Presents of +various kinds flowed in; and, upon his return home from town, he found +himself master of more stock than he could possibly have got together +for his own use in England, though he had laboured for it for many +years. He was very cheerful, and even told his sisters that as he might, +perhaps, marry soon in the new settlement, they might make him some sets +of female apparel! They laughed with astonishment at this request; but, +as they found him earnest, they each spared something from their own +wardrobe for his most eccentric request. Little, however, did they +surmise the real motive of his heart.</p> + +<p>The day was fixed for the vessel to sail, and John must be, with all his +goods and chattels, at London in a fortnight. The last Sabbath-day that +he spent with his father, mother, brothers, and sisters, was memorable +for the deep-rooted power it ever after retained over his mind. The +clergyman’s sermon was upon the universal providence of God, and, as if +he preached it on purpose (but which was not the case, for he was +ignorant of the intended movement of the young man), he discoursed upon +the unity of the Church of Christ in every place—the communion we had +even with our antipodes in the worship of the same God. He instanced the +especial interest which the Church had with all the colonies of the +mother country, and spoke of the joy to be felt when that reunion should +take place at the resurrection of the just. The preacher spoke as if +even the poor benighted aborigines of Van Diemen’s Land were his +brethren, and showed how necessary it was for us to extend to them our +helping hand to bring them to Christianity.</p> + +<p>After service, the worthy miller told his pastor that his son was going +to that very country, and that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> young man had said he never should +forget that discourse. The clergyman went home with the family, and +spent that Sabbath evening with them. He fully entered into the prospect +before the young man, and pointed out to him the sure path to heaven, +through the strait gate, and inspired him with many hopes of doing good. +He joined with them in prayer, and gave them his blessing. He promised +to send him a valuable present of books, which he performed the next +day. Bibles, testaments, prayer-books, homilies, tracts, <i>The Whole Duty +of Man</i>, together with a work on planting, farming, horticulture, and +seeds, and one on natural history and botany, all which proved of the +greatest utility to the worthy and honourable young man upon whom they +were bestowed.</p> + +<p>The day of parting at length came—the last sad day—and the young man +remembered his promise to Margaret, that he would see her once more +before he departed. He found her at home on the Monday, that very day +upon the eve of which he was to take the mail from Ipswich for London. +He came to take a long and a last farewell. And why did he torment +himself and the poor girl with this last interview? Was it with a +lurking hope that he might persuade her to accompany him? He had really +and truly prepared for such an event, could he have brought it about. In +his chests were presents which his sisters had made at his request, in +case he should marry in the new settlement. He had suggested this; but +his heart had to the very last a lingering thought that perhaps Margaret +might be induced to embark with him. Upon what small last links will not +true love depend!</p> + +<p>“I am come, Margaret, to take my leave of you,” said he, on meeting her. +"I am going to a colony the farthest off our own dear country of any +known island in the world.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, sir! if so I wish you well, and pray God to bless you!”</p> + +<p>“Before I go, Margaret,” resumed he, “I must tell you that as long as +life holds in this poor heart of mine,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> I shall never love any one else. +I may prosper—I may be rich—I may be blessed with abundance—but I +shall never be blessed with a wife.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, sir, say not so! you grieve me very much to hear you talk in that +way. You are a young man, and the path of life, though it may not be +without thorns, has yet many blessed plants for your happiness. Why +should you speak so despondingly? Change of place and occupation will +make you feel very differently.”</p> + +<p>“You may think it may be so with me, Margaret; but if there be any truth +in this last doctrine which you have yourself divulged, it will hold +good in yourself as well as in me. If you change your place of abode, +and go with me, Margaret, will not you think very differently to what +you do now? Oh, that I could persuade you! Oh, that I could induce you +to join your lot with mine! Shake off that wild attachment to the +smuggler, and go with me. I will marry you to-morrow morning before we +sail. I have even hinted the matter to my captain. He has promised to be +bridesman, and has even taken out the license, and will be ready +to-morrow at ten o’clock. No preparation will be necessary for you: I +have prepared everything. Your bridal dress is even ready; and our +honeymoon will be kept on board the <i>Kitty</i>, which is to sail to-morrow +from London. Margaret, hear me! I am sure that your present connexion +will end in ruin. What is Will Laud but a desperate fellow who cannot +and, believe me, will not protect you? What sacrifice can it be to leave +a man who would have taken you away without your consent, for one who, +with your consent, will unite all his interests with yours as long as he +lives?”</p> + +<p>There was a pause—an awful pause—after this declaration, such as +beings feel who are held in the most agitating suspense, between life +and death. Painful—very painful—was the situation in which Margaret +was placed. There was a flood of overwhelming agitation. The tears stole +down her cheeks.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> Her dark eye shone like the sun through the midst of a +watery cloud, and told that it longed to burst through the mists of +darkness, but could not find an opening for its beams. Faster and faster +fell the big drops—heavier and heavier dropped the clouds of the +eyelids, till, like a flash of lightning, burst the words from her +lips—</p> + +<p>“Oh, leave me! leave me, sir! I never can alter the pledge I have given! +I never can be unfaithful! Though I may be unhappy in my choice, yet it +is a choice to which I feel so bound, that nothing but death can part +us. Oh, that Laud were as good as yourself! I feel, I own, the contrast; +but I hope he may be better. Oh, do not urge me, sir—do not urge me to +desert the only chance left for the restoration of a young man to +honesty and life!”</p> + +<p>“Margaret, hear then my last words, and if they fail I will leave you. I +do not believe that Laud loves you as he ought to love. Did I think +there was one chance for your happiness with him, I would not urge my +present suit a moment longer. Believe me, he is not worthy of you. You +compel me to say he is a villain. He will betray you. He will desert +you. He will bring you to want, misery, and ruin. I know you love him. +Your early feelings have all been engaged in his favour; but which of +those has he not disappointed? which of those feelings has he not +wounded? Yet you cling to him, as if he were a safe-ground of anchorage. +Believe me—believe me, Margaret, the anchor you cast there will not +hold; it will suffer you to drift upon the rocks, upon which you will +perish. Say in one word, will you, or will you not, consent to my +offer?”</p> + +<p>“John Barry, on my knees (and she suited the action to the word) I thank +you, and bless you; but I do not—I cannot—accept your offer!”</p> + +<p>“Margaret, farewell!" exclaimed he, as he raised her from the ground, “a +long, a last farewell. Nevertheless, take this; it is a gift, which may +some future day be of service to you. You will not refuse it, as it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> is +the last gift of one who will never see you again. I know you cannot +even read it now; but the time may come when you may be enabled so to +do, and I had counted in my long voyage of teaching you so to do. It was +a present to me from my mother; but I have many more like it, given me +by our clergyman. Take it—take it—it can never do you hurt; and, with +God’s blessing, it may be the means of our meeting in another world, +though we never meet again in this. God bless you, Margaret! farewell!”</p> + +<p>He placed a small clasped Bible in her hands, in the opening and the +closing leaf of which were two five-pound notes; small sums perhaps +apparently to us in this day, but magnificent compared with the means of +an early settler in a strange land. This ten pounds paid poor Margaret’s +rent, and all her parents’ debts, at a subsequent time, when the deepest +distress might have overwhelmed her. But Barry returned to his parents +with a noble consciousness of an upright mind. His parting with them was +not, comparatively speaking, of so passionate or stirring a nature as +that which he had so recently undergone, but it was purely affectionate +and loving.</p> + +<p>The hour of parting is over; and John Barry, as honest and worthy a +young man as ever left the shores of Old England, was soon on board the +<i>Kitty</i>, 440 tons; and with some few others, who like himself had a mind +to try their fortunes in a foreign land, he sailed for that colony, once +the most distant and unpromising, now becoming renowned, and which +probably will be the most glorious island of the Eastern world.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br /><span style="font-size:70%">THE WELCOME VISIT</span></a></h2> + + +<p>There is no greater misery upon earth than to be left alone; to feel +that nobody cares for you—nobody is interested in you; and that you are +destitute as well as desolate! Poor Margaret at this time felt something +akin to this sensation. She had a regard for the youth who had driven +himself into voluntary exile on her account. She was not, however, to +blame for this, though many a one accused her of being the cause of it. +She was shunned by those of her own sex, on account of the disreputable +character of her lover, with whom it was believed that she still held +secret correspondence, although for a long time she had heard nothing of +him. The men cared little about her, because she cared nothing about +them; but kept herself quietly at home, attending to the sick-bed of a +rapidly declining mother. Occasionally she ventured to the Priory Farm, +to ask for some few necessaries required by her aged parent. Her former +mistress was uniformly kind to her; and not contented with affording the +assistance which was asked for, this good woman visited the sick-bed of +poverty, and ministered to the wants of the aged and infirm.</p> + +<p>Gratitude is very eloquent, if not in the multitude of words, yet in the +choice of them, because it speaks from the heart. Margaret’s gratitude +was always sincere. She was a creature of feeling without cultivation, +and imbibed at once the very perfection of that spirit which all +benevolent minds wish to see; but which if they do not see, they are so +accustomed to the world that they are not very greatly disappointed. +Their surprise is rather expressed in that pleasure which they imbibe in +seeing the feeling of a truly grateful heart. An aged female, on a bed +of poverty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> and sickness, is but too frequently left to negligence and +want. When their infirmities are the greatest, and their cares always +the most anxious, then is it that the really charitable aid of the +benevolent is most needed.</p> + +<p>Margaret felt her own inability to assist her aged mother, beyond the +doing for her to the best of her powers in all attendances as nurse and +housewife. She herself earned no money; but she made the best possible +use of all the earnings of the family, as at that time she had not +discovered the munificent present of poor John Barry; for, not being +able to read, she had carefully laid up the treasured book, unconscious +of the generosity and self-denial of the donor.</p> + +<p>At this time Margaret appears to have suffered much privation. She felt +that she was dependent upon the kindness of richer friends for those +little delicacies which she required to support her mother’s sinking +frame; and never was heart more sensitively grateful than this poor +girl’s when she received some unexpected trifle of bounty from the table +of her indulgent mistress. She wept with joy as she bore the present +home to her affectionate but fast-sinking parent.</p> + +<p>She had not very long to continue her nursings. Early in the year she +lost her mother. Nature could not be suspended; and she sank to rest, +with her head supported by the arms of an affectionate daughter and a +good husband.</p> + +<p>The death of her mother was felt by Margaret very keenly. It reminded +her of her own early affliction; and a singular occurrence took place at +the funeral, which more forcibly reminded her of her sister’s death. A +stranger entered the churchyard at the time of the ceremony, and stood +at the foot of the grave, and actually wept with the mourners. No one +knew who he was, or where he came from; nor did he speak to any one, but +he seemed to be much afflicted at the scene of sorrow. He remained some +time after the mourners had departed, and saw the grave filled up again; +and when the old clerk had neatly patted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> round the mound with his +spade, and was about to leave it, the stranger asked him if he did not +mean to turf it.</p> + +<p>“Why, I don’t know; I don’t think they can afford to have it done +properly; but, at all events, I must let the earth settle a bit first.”</p> + +<p>“How long will it take to do that?”</p> + +<p>“That depends upon the weather. Come rain, and that will soon settle; +but if frost, and dry weather continue, it will be some time first. They +cannot afford to have it flagged and binded.”</p> + +<p>“What will that cost?”</p> + +<p>“I charge one shilling and sixpence extra for that, as I have to get the +turf from the heath; but I shall have some time to wait before I am paid +for what I have done. Time was when that family was well off; but no +good comes of bad doings.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, my man? what bad doings have these poor people been +guilty of?”</p> + +<p>“I see, sir, you are a stranger in these parts, or else the Catchpoles, +especially one of them, would be known to you by common report.”</p> + +<p>“Which one is that?”</p> + +<p>“Margaret, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what of her? has she been unfortunate?”</p> + +<p>“If she has it has been her own seeking, no one’s else. She might have +done well, but she would not.”</p> + +<p>“What might she have done? and what has she done?”</p> + +<p>“Why, sir, she might have married an industrious young man, who would +have done well by her; but she chose to encourage a vagabond smuggler, +who first set her up with high notions, and then ruined and left her to +poverty and shame.”</p> + +<p>“You do not mean to say that the young woman is a depraved and abandoned +character?”</p> + +<p>“No, no; I mean she don’t like any honester man, and so no one seems to +care anything about her.”</p> + +<p>A tear stole down the stranger’s cheeks; and, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>ever he was, he seemed +to feel a little relief at this information.</p> + +<p>“Is the young woman living at home with her family?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; because nobody will hire her. She is laughed at by the females, +and the men don’t care anything about her. If they could catch her +lover, and pocket a hundred pounds reward for his capture, they would +like the chance.”</p> + +<p>“How are the family supported?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I suppose the father earns eight shillings a week, the youngest +son one-and-sixpence; but they must have been hard run this winter, and +it will take them some time to get up their back-rent and present +expenses.”</p> + +<p>“What is the amount of their present expense?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I must get, if I can, sixteen shillings, somehow or another. I +dare say I shall have it; but it will take them some time to pay it. +There is ten shillings for the coffin (for I am carpenter, clerk, and +sexton), three shillings and sixpence digging the grave, one shilling +for tolling the bell, and one shilling and sixpence for the clergyman; +that will exactly make the sum.”</p> + +<p>“You say it will take one shilling and sixpence extra for turfing and +binding: that will be seventeen shillings and sixpence. How much do you +think they owe at the shop?”</p> + +<p>“I know that it cost them three shillings and sixpence for flannel; but +I know it is not paid for yet.”</p> + +<p>“There’s a guinea; that will exactly pay you all, will it not?” and the +stranger pitched a guinea against the sexton’s spade.</p> + +<p>What a wonderful thing is a golden guinea in the eye of a poor parish +clerk! how reverential it makes a man feel, especially when a stranger +pays it for a poor man! He might have got it; but he must have waited +the chance till after the next harvest.</p> + +<p>“That it will, sir—that it will. I’ll call and pay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> the bill at the +shop. Are you coming to live in these parts?”</p> + +<p>“Not for long—not long!" sighed the stranger.</p> + +<p>“Why, you look very healthy, sir? You are not ill?”</p> + +<p>“No, no, my man; I do not mean to give you a chance of getting another +guinea by me, at least for the present. I only meant to say my stay in +this village would not be for long. But where do these poor people +live?”</p> + +<p>“Not in the same place they used to do in the days of their prosperity +and respectability. Their house now stands at the corner of the heath, +sir: shall I go with you and show it you?”</p> + +<p>“I can find it; there are not many cottages there. Do you go and pay the +bill at the shop; and then if you have a mind to bring the receipt, +instead of giving me the trouble to call at your house for it, you will +find me at the cottage of these poor people; and hear me, old man, do +not talk to any one about this matter. You may as well bring a receipt, +also, for your own work at the same time.”</p> + +<p>“You are quite a man of business, I see, sir. I will not fail to be at +the cottage this very evening with a receipt in full.”</p> + +<p>The old sexton placed the guinea carefully at the bottom of his pocket, +and, shouldering his spade and mattock, marched off towards the village +shop. The stranger walked round Nacton churchyard. He stood sometime +attentively reading the inscription upon Admiral Vernon’s mausoleum; +and, taking another look at the humble, new-made grave of Margaret +Catchpole’s mother, he took the highroad to the heath, and saw the +cottage, known by the name of the Shepherd’s Cot, at the verge of that +wild waste.</p> + +<p>Meantime the following conversation was going on in that cottage:—</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” said Margaret to her father, as the old man sat by the +log-fire in the chimney-corner, “whether our brother Charles is alive or +dead?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I can just remember him,” said the boy; “he used to be very fond of me, +and said I should make a good soldier.”</p> + +<p>“I have never heard of him,” said the father, “since he went to Ipswich, +and enlisted in another name, at the Black Horse, in St. Mary Elms. I +understood that his regiment went off to India almost immediately after +he enlisted.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder if he is alive?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot tell, my dear; the chances are very much against it. He was a +quick, intelligent, lively boy; and, when he was at work in the fields, +used often to say he should like to be a soldier. The old clerk taught +him to read and write, and used to say, ‘If Charles had a chance he +would be scholar enough to succeed him as parish clerk.’ He left us at +the commencement of our misfortunes; God grant he may meet us again in +happier days!”</p> + +<p>Poor Margaret sighed; for she too well remembered the origin of all +their sorrows not to feel for her dear parent. That sigh was answered by +a sudden knock at the door, which occasioned a start. The latch was +lifted up, and in walked the stranger who had attended the funeral. His +entrance gave a change to their conversation; and Margaret placed a +chair for him, in which he quietly sat down opposite to the old +labourer. Care had worn the countenance of the venerable man more than +years and work. The only mourning of an outward kind which met the eye, +was an old piece of crape round the equally old hat which hung upon a +peg in the wall. Nothing else could be afforded; but their countenances +betokened the state of their hearts. They were really melancholy. It is +not in the outward pageantry of a funeral that real sorrow is to be +seen; and the real grief of the Shepherd’s Cottage surpassed all the +pageantry of the palace, and was viewed with calm and respectful silence +by the stranger.</p> + +<p>He was a tall, pale, thin young man, with a scar upon the side of his +face: he looked as if he had undergone much sickness or misfortune. He +was dressed in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> a plain suit of black, which hung rather loosely round +him. He asked Margaret if the youth beside her was her youngest brother, +and whether she had any other brothers living. She replied that it was, +to the best of her knowledge, her only brother living. He then made +inquiries concerning the illness of her late mother; and after various +other domestic matters, he looked very earnestly at Margaret, and in a +seemingly abstracted manner said, “Where is Will Laud?” It was as if an +electric shock had been given to all in the room; for all started at the +question, and even the stranger was greatly moved at his own question, +when he saw Margaret hide her face in her hands, weeping.</p> + +<p>“I did not mean to occasion you any grief. I only asked after a man whom +I once knew as a boy, and whom the old clerk informed me you could tell +me more about than any one else.”</p> + +<p>“And do not you know more of him than we do, sir?” said the old man.</p> + +<p>“I know nothing of him, and have heard nothing of him since I was a +youth; my question was purely accidental. I am sorry to see your +daughter so afflicted by it. Has the man been unkind to her?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir! no!" said Margaret. “If you are here as a spy, sir, indeed we +know not where he is.”</p> + +<p>“A spy!" said the stranger; and the stranger started and muttered +something to himself. Margaret herself now began to feel alarmed; for +the stranger seemed to be deep in thought; and, as the flame from the +log of wood cast its light upon his face, she thought he looked ghastly +pale.</p> + +<p>“A spy!" said the stranger; “what made you think me a spy?—and what +should I be a spy for?”</p> + +<p>“I did not mean to affront you, sir; but the question you asked +concerning one for whose apprehension a hundred pounds is offered, made +me think of it. Pray pardon me, sir.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry that he has done anything to occasion such an offer from the +Government. Has he murdered any one?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + +<p>“No, sir; but Will is a wild young man, and he attempted to kill young +Barry of Levington, and wounded him so severely, that a reward was +offered for his apprehension.”</p> + +<p>“Has Barry recovered?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; and he is gone out of the country to Canada, or some more +distant land.”</p> + +<p>“Then never mind if Laud be caught. Government will never pay a hundred +pounds for his conviction when the principal evidence cannot be +obtained. Never mind! never mind!—that will soon be forgotten.”</p> + +<p>Such words of consolation had never been uttered in Peggy’s ear before. +She began to feel very differently toward the stranger, as the tone of +his voice, and his manner, together with his words, became so soothing.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir, for your good wishes; you make my heart joyful in the +midst of my mourning.”</p> + +<p>“I only wish I could make it more joyful by telling you any good news of +your lover, Margaret; but though I know nothing of him, and only wish he +were more worthy of you than he is, yet I bear you tidings of some one +else of whom you will all be glad to hear.”</p> + +<p>“Our brother Charles!" both she and the boy at once exclaimed, whilst +the old man remained in mute astonishment.</p> + +<p>“It is of your brother Charles; and first, let me tell you that he is +alive and well.”</p> + +<p>“Thank God for that!" said the father.</p> + +<p>“Next, that he is in England, and it will not be long before you will +have the pleasure of seeing him.”</p> + +<p>At this moment the door opened, and in walked the old clerk, who, seeing +the stranger, made his bow, and gave him a piece of paper containing a +receipt for the guinea which he had received. To the surprise of all, +the stranger rose, and taking a little red box made in the shape of a +barrel, which stood on the wooden shelf over the fire-place, he +unscrewed it, and put the paper in it; and, replacing it, seated himself +again.</p> + +<p>“You were just telling us of our brother Charles,” said Margaret.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>“What!" exclaimed the sexton, “is Charles alive? My old scholar! Where +is the boy? I have often thought of him. Oh! what a pity he took to +drinking! He was as good a reader as our clergyman, and beat me out and +out.”</p> + +<p>“He is not addicted to drink now, and is as sober as a man can be.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad of that. Then he will succeed in anything he undertakes. But +where has he been these many years?”</p> + +<p>“You shall hear if you will sit down; for, as I knew him well, and was +his most intimate friend, he made me his confidant in everything. He was +always of a restless spirit; and when he left his father and friends, he +had no settled plan in his mind. He enlisted in the 33rd regiment of +Foot, which was then going out to India; and that his relatives and +friends might not grieve about him, he gave his name to the parochial +authorities of St. Mary Elms, at Ipswich, as Jacob Dedham, the name of a +boy who, he knew, was not alive. The parish-officer gave him a shilling, +and he took another shilling of the recruiting-officer.</p> + +<p>“He was sworn in, and took his departure with many others for +Portsmouth, at which place he embarked for India, and joined the 33rd +regiment at Bombay. He was always of an aspiring and inquisitive turn of +mind. He became an active and orderly soldier, and assisted the +sergeant-major in all his writings and accounts. He soon became an adept +in all the cunning and customs of the various castes of natives in +India; was remarkable for the quickness with which he mastered the +different idioms of the different territories of the East; and at length +became so noticed by Sir William Forbes, that he introduced him to Lord +Cornwallis, who employed him upon the frontier of Persia.</p> + +<p>“Here he became a spy, and was actively engaged for that highly +honourable and intelligent Governor-General. He readily entered into his +lordship’s views; and, receiving from him a purse well stored, to +provide<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> himself with disguises, he assumed the garb of a Moorish +priest, and with wonderful tact made himself master of all the +requisites of his office. I have here a sketch of him, in the very dress +in which he travelled through the country.”</p> + +<p>Taking out a roll from his coat-pocket, he unfolded the canvas wrapper +in which it was enclosed, and presented it to Margaret, asking her if +she recognized her brother.</p> + +<p>With eager and interested glance she looked at the sketch, but not a +feature could she challenge. She then looked up at the stranger, and, as +she did so, said—</p> + +<p>“It is much more like you, sir, than it is like my brother.”</p> + +<p>“I think it is full as like me as it is like him. But, such as it is, +you have it; for he commissioned me to give it to you, together with a +sketch of a fortress in which he resided a long time as the priest of +the family. This is Tabgur, on the frontiers of Persia. His master and +family are walking on the rampart-garden of the fort.”</p> + +<p>Here the old clerk could not help bursting out with an exclamation of +astonishment at the wonderful talent of his former pupil.</p> + +<p>“I always said he would be a wonderful man, did I not, Master +Catchpole,—did I not? Did he teach himself this art, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed he did; and many others he learned, which did him equal credit. +He was a very quiet man in appearance, though he was alive to everything +around him. Many were the hairbreadth escapes he had; but his +self-possession carried him through all. He had to conceal all his +drawings of the different fortresses, all his calculations of the +inhabitants, of their forces, and their condition; but he contrived to +wrap them about his person, so that they could not be discovered.</p> + +<p>“Once, indeed, one of his papers, written as close as pencil could +write, was picked up in the fort-garden at Tabgur, and he was suspected +for a spy; but he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> quickly changed their suspicions; for, observing that +his master had a bad toothache, he told him it was a charm to prevent +it. Every person, he said, for whom he wrote that charm, would be free +from the toothache as long as he kept it secreted in his turban; but it +must be one expressly written for the purpose, and for the person; and +that, during the time of its being written, the person must have a piece +of rock-salt upon that very tooth which was aching at the time. The +charm was only of use for the person for whom it was written; and, as +that one was written for himself, it could do the Persian warrior no +good. This answered well; for he got back his valuable paper, and wrote +one immediately, in the presence of his master, who, placing a piece of +rock-salt upon the tooth, found that, as he wrote, the pain was +diminished; and when he concluded, it was completely gone.</p> + +<p>“But the next day, your brother, the Moorish priest, was gone also. He +passed over into Hindostan, changed his Moorish dress, and soon made his +way to head-quarters, where he delivered such an accurate account of all +that befell him, and of all that was required of him, that he received a +most ample reward. He called himself Caulins Jaun, the Moorish priest.</p> + +<p>“He has been sent to England by Lord Cornwallis, to deliver some +despatches to the government, relating to the Mysore territory and +Tippoo Saib’s conduct; and, having accomplished his mission, he has +asked permission to visit his poor friends at Nacton, in Suffolk. His +leave is very short, as his services are again required.”</p> + +<p>“And when may we expect him here?” exclaimed Margaret. “Oh, how I long +to see him!”</p> + +<p>“I expect him here this night; for, as I was his companion, and am to go +back again with him, so I am his forerunner upon this occasion.”</p> + +<p>“I could almost set the village-bells ringing for joy,” said the old +clerk. “I wonder whether he would know me.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p>“That I am sure he would.”</p> + +<p>“Pray, sir, how do you know that?”</p> + +<p>“Because the description he gave me of you is so accurate that I could +tell you from a thousand. Do you remember the sketch he made of an old +woman throwing a cat at her husband?”</p> + +<p>“That I do. Did he tell you of that?”</p> + +<p>“That he did; and of the scratch he got from the cat’s claws, as you +bopped your head, and puss lit directly on his face.”</p> + +<p>Here the old man could not help laughing.</p> + +<p>“But did he tell you nothing else about the sketch?”</p> + +<p>“That he did, and with such feeling, that I almost fancy I see now the +scrub-brush belabouring his head for his pains.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear! oh, dear! I thought he had forgotten all that.”</p> + +<p>“No; he thought of it at the very time he was sketching the forts of his +enemies’ country. Had he been caught in such freaks as those, he would +have had a severer punishment than what your good dame gave him.”</p> + +<p>“But if my old dame could see him now, how rejoiced she would be; for +notwithstanding his roguery, he was a great favourite of hers!”</p> + +<p>“She will see him to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“That will be news for the old woman. But shall I see him this night? I +would not mind waiting till midnight for such a purpose.”</p> + +<p>“That you may. But I do not think that even you would know him, were you +to see him.”</p> + +<p>“Why not? Would he know me?”</p> + +<p>“He would: but youth alters more in countenance than age, especially +where a foreign climate has acted upon the constitution.”</p> + +<p>“I should know him from two things,” said Margaret. “He once so nearly +cut off the end of his little finger with a sharp tool, that it hung +only by a piece of skin: it was bound up, so that it adhered and grew +together; but somehow, the tip got a twist, so that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> the nail of the +finger grew under the hand: it was the left hand.”</p> + +<p>“And what was the other mark?”</p> + +<p>“It was a deep scar on the back of the same hand, caused by imprudently +cutting off a large wart.”</p> + +<p>“Now tell me,” said the stranger, drawing the glove off his left hand, +"were the scars you mention anything like those?”</p> + +<p>“Exactly,” said the clerk, who looked at him again and again with +amazement.</p> + +<p>“Why, you can’t be he? Are you Master Charles?”</p> + +<p>“Can you doubt it?”</p> + +<p>“The hand is his.”</p> + +<p>“And the hand is mine. Therefore the hand is the hand of Charles.”</p> + +<p>The old man rose, and coming forward said, “I do believe you are my son; +I have been thinking so for some time, and I am now satisfied that it is +so. God bless you, my boy! You are come at a seasonable hour, for the +Lord gives and takes away as He sees best.”</p> + +<p>A hearty embrace and affectionate recognition took place. The stranger +(now no longer such) soon convinced them of his identity; and though no +one could really have known a single feature of his countenance, yet he +gave them such internal and external evidences of his relationship, +calling to mind so many circumstances of such deep interest to them all, +that he was soon acknowledged to be their relative.</p> + +<p>Happiness comes unexpectedly in the days of mourning. The wild recruit +had returned, after many days, to cheer an aged parent and a forlorn +sister, who needed the hand of some one to help them in their troubles. +The old man’s heart revived again; and it was a pleasure to witness the +joys of the few days which then visited the Catchpoles, and the +congratulations which they received from the old clerk and his wife upon +the bright prospects of a hopeful son. Reports spread like wildfire that +Charles Catchpole had come home, and that he had returned from India as +rich as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> a Nabob. Reports are generally exaggerated, and they were not a +little so in the present case; for although Charles might be +comparatively rich, his fortune, as the world terms it, was anything but +made. He had a few guineas to spare; but he had to return to India, and +to pursue a very hazardous course of life, before he could even hope to +gain that independence which had been promised to him. A few guineas, +however, made a great show in a cottage. He paid his father’s debts; +made a present to the old clerk’s wife; bought his sister a new gown; +his younger brother, Edward, a new suit of clothes; paid one year’s rent +in advance for the cottage; left a present with the sexton to keep his +mother’s grave ever green; and announced his departure to his family +after staying one short week after five years’ absence.</p> + +<p>“I shall see you no more, Charles!" exclaimed Margaret, at parting. “I +fear that I shall see you no more! You are going through a dangerous +country, and the perils you have already escaped you must not always +expect to avoid.”</p> + +<p>“Fear not, Peggy, fear not. God sent me in a proper season to comfort +you, and if you trust in Him, He will send you some other friend in +need, if it be not such a one as myself.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, let me go with you, dear brother! I should like to accompany you,” +said Edward, his brother.</p> + +<p>“That cannot be, Edward. You must remain at home to help your father and +sister; you are not able to undertake a march of many thousand miles, +under a sun burning your face, and a sand scorching your feet. I have a +good friend, however, in Lord Cornwallis, and I have no doubt that some +time hence I shall be enabled to do you some service. I do not recommend +you to be a soldier; but if you wish it, when I see his lordship I will +ask him to help you. You shall hear from me in the course of a year or +so; in the meantime make all the progress you can in reading and writing +with the old clerk, <a name="CORR_2" id="CORR_2"><ins class="correction" title="original: and be industrious[]">and be industrious.</ins></a> I must be in London to-morrow, +and shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> soon sail for India. I shall never forget any of you.”</p> + +<p>“God bless you all!—good-bye,” were the parting words of Charles +Catchpole. There is in that short sentence, “Good-bye,” a melancholy +sense of departure which the full heart cannot express.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye!—good-bye!" and Margaret gave vent to her grief in tears, +whilst the old man clasped his hands in silent prayer.</p> + +<p>The fond brother and affectionate son is gone; and never did Margaret +see that brother again. She was shortly to change her place of abode. +Her uncle Leader, who lived at Brandiston, and who had a young family, +and was left a widower, sought the assistance of his niece; and though +her father could but ill spare her, yet as there were so many children, +and Margaret was so good a nurse, he could not refuse his consent. There +was another feeling, too, which prompted the good old man to spare her. +Though he loved his daughter’s company, he knew that she deserved to be +thought better of by many who disregarded her in her own neighbourhood, +and he thought a change would be good for her. It might produce in her a +change of mind towards Will Laud—a thing he most earnestly wished for, +though he would not grieve her by saying so. It would at all events +remove her from many little persecutions which, though she professed not +to feel them, he knew weighed heavily on her spirits; and come what +might, even should Laud return, he was not known there, and he might be +a happier man. Under all these circumstances, he not only gave his +consent, but urged her going. She left her father’s roof on the Monday +with her uncle.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII<br /><span style="font-size:70%">POVERTY AND PRIDE</span></a></h2> + + +<p>On the evening of the very day on which Margaret quitted her father’s +roof for that of her uncle, as the old man was sitting pensively at his +cottage fire, a knock at the door announced a visitor. The door opened, +and in walked Will Laud, together with his friend, John Luff.</p> + +<p>“Good-evening, father,” said Will. “We are come now from the shore. Our +boat is once more moored to the rails at the landing-place, by Orwell +Park, and we are come across the lands to see you. We had some +difficulty in finding out your berth. You have changed your place of +abode.”</p> + +<p>“Say that you have changed it for us, and you will be nearer the mark. +For ever since we knew you and your companion, we have known nothing but +changes, and few of them for the better.”</p> + +<p>“Things cannot always change for the worse, surely.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder you are not afraid to be seen in this part of the country. +There are many here, Will, that would be glad of a hundred pounds, the +price set upon your head.”</p> + +<p>“And yourself foremost of that number, I dare say,” said the gruff +smuggler who accompanied Will Laud.</p> + +<p>The old man looked at him with a placid but firm countenance, and said, +"That is the language of a villain! Do you think I am so fond of money +as yourself; or that I would sell my daughter’s lover for a hundred +pounds? The door you have just opened is not yet closed, and if such be +your opinion, the sooner you take your departure hence the better.”</p> + +<p>“Humph! humph!" said Luff. “You need not be so crusty, Mr. +Catchpole—you need not be so boisterous. We have not seen the inside of +a house<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> for many a long month, and if this be the first welcome we are +to have, it is rather ominous.”</p> + +<p>“What welcome do those men deserve who cause the ruin of others?”</p> + +<p>“We have not intentionally caused your ruin, father,” said Laud; “but we +come in peace; we wish to abide in peace, and to depart in peace.”</p> + +<p>“Then you should teach your friend to keep his foul tongue still, or it +will cause you more trouble than you are aware of.”</p> + +<p>“I miss the principal ornament of your house, Master Catchpole,” said +Will. “Where are all the females gone?”</p> + +<p>“Some are gone where I hope soon to join them; the one you feel most +interest about is gone to service.”</p> + +<p>“I was told, not an hour ago, that Margaret lived at home with you.”</p> + +<p>At this instant the door was opened, and young Edward Catchpole entered. +He had been to put his sheep safe into fold, and came whistling home, +with little thought of seeing any strangers in his father’s cottage.</p> + +<p>“Boy, do you know me?” was the inquiry made by Will Laud.</p> + +<p>“Not yet,” said the younger; “but I can give a shrewd guess; and I can +tell you something which will soon prove whether I guess right or not. +As I came over the heath, I met two sailors, who appeared to me to +belong to the preventive service. They were on horseback. They stopped +and asked me if I had seen a cart, and whether it was going fast, and +which road it took; whether it went across the heath, or along the road. +I told them plainly it was before them, and that it had turned down the +road towards the decoy-ponds. They then asked me if I had met two +sailor-looking men walking. To this, of course, I said No. But I suspect +they must have meant you.”</p> + +<p>“How could that be?” said Laud. “We came not along the road.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p>“No; but you might have seen some one who was going to Nacton Street, +and they might have been inquired of.”</p> + +<p>“That’s true, indeed. We had to ask where your father lived, and our +curiosity concerning your family has led to this pursuit of us.”</p> + +<p>“One of the men I think I have seen before, and, if I mistake not, it is +the same Edward Barry that my sister and I went to see at Bawdsey +boat-house.”</p> + +<p>“Your sister went to see Edward Barry! What on earth for, my lad?”</p> + +<p>“Nay, don’t be jealous, Laud. There was a report that you were drowned, +and that your body was cast on shore. The bearer of that report was your +rival, John Barry. Margaret would not believe that report, unless she +should see your body. So I drove her there, and Edward Barry, who had +the key of the boat-house, permitted her to see the bodies, which +satisfied her that the report was unfounded.”</p> + +<p>The two men looked significantly at each other, as much as to say, “It +is time for us to be off.”</p> + +<p>“I have one question more to ask,” said Laud. “Where is Margaret?”</p> + +<p>“She is gone to service at her Uncle Leader’s, of Brandiston. It is no +great place for her, but she will be out of the way of reproaches she +has suffered, Laud, on your account. Moreover, she has refused the hand +of a most respectable young man, whom I should have been glad that she +would have accepted. But he is gone to a distant land, and neither you +nor I, Will, shall see him again. John Barry has sailed, as a free +settler, either to Van Diemen’s Land, or to Canada, I know not which.”</p> + +<p>These words were most welcome to the listener’s heart. He had not heard +any which sounded so joyful to him for a long time. He made no reply, +however, but tendered a purse to the old man.</p> + +<p>“No; keep your money to yourself, Laud, and make an honest use of it. I +would not touch it, if I was starving. But you may rest here if you +please,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> and such cheer as my poor cot can afford you shall be welcome +to, for my dear daughter’s sake!”</p> + +<p>“No, no, I thank you. We must be on board our ship again to-night. Our +bark is in the river, and if the enemy catch us, he will show us no +quarter. So good-night, father, good-night!”</p> + +<p>“I do not wish to detain you, but hear me, Laud. If you have a mind to +make my poor girl happy, leave off your present life, and this +acquaintance too, this man’s company.”</p> + +<p>“Come on!" said Luff, impatiently—"Come on! We’ve got no time to lose. +Our boat will be fast upon the mud. Good-night, old man, and when you +and I meet again, let us be a little more friendly to each other.”</p> + +<p>It was well for both of them that they departed as they did; for, +shortly after they were gone, the tramp of horses along the road told of +the return of the coastguard.</p> + +<p>They stopped at Catchpole’s cottage, and calling aloud, young Edward +went out to them.</p> + +<p>“Hold our horses, young man, will you? we want to light our pipes.”</p> + +<p>“By all means,” said Edward, coming to the little garden-gate. Both men +alighted, and he could see that they were well armed. They walked +directly to the door; and seeing the old man seated by the fire, one of +them said—</p> + +<p>“We want to light our pipes, Master Catchpole. It is a blustering night. +Have you a tobacco-pipe, for I have broken mine rather short?”</p> + +<p>The old man took one from his corner and gave it to young Barry, whom, +from his likeness to his brother, he could distinguish, and simply said, +"You are welcome to it, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Your son sent us on a wrong scent to-night.”</p> + +<p>“I do not think he did so knowingly. I heard him say he met you; and he +told me he directed you aright.”</p> + +<p>“We saw nothing of the cart. We have reason to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> believe that a rich +cargo of goods has been landed at Felixstowe, and that the last +cart-load went along this road to Ipswich. Have you had any of your old +seafaring friends here? Are there any here now? You know who I mean.”</p> + +<p>“You may search and see for yourself. Every door of this house will open +at your trial. If that is sufficient answer to your question, you are +welcome to take it. Nay, I wish most heartily that you and your brother +had been my friends long before the one to whom you allude had ever +darkened my door.”</p> + +<p>When the young man remembered his brother’s attachment, and the really +worthy object of it, there was a grateful feeling which came over his +mind, notwithstanding the disappointment which his brother, himself, and +his family had experienced, which made him feel respect for the old man.</p> + +<p>“I thank you, Master Catchpole—I thank you. Had such been the case, you +might have had a good son, and I should not have lost a good brother; +and in my conscience I believe I should have gained a good sister. But +there is no accounting for a woman’s taste. I tell you honestly, Master +Catchpole, that for your daughter’s sake I wish her lover, or the man +she loves, were a worthier character.”</p> + +<p>“I know that both she and I wish it so—she with hope—I, alas! confess +that I have no hope of that. As long as he lives he will never alter, +except for the worse.”</p> + +<p>“I wish it may be otherwise. But come, my mate, it is no use our waiting +here, we must go on to Felixstowe. If at any time, Master Catchpole, I +can be of service to you, you have nothing to do but to send a messenger +to Bawdsey Ferry, and the brother of him who is now far away will do +what he can to help you. Good-night, Master Catchpole!”</p> + +<p>They returned to their horses, mounted them again, and telling Ned that +he might drink their healths whenever he pleased, gave him sixpence, and +rode off.</p> + +<p>“Father,” said Edward, when he was again seated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> by the fire, “I do +not—I cannot like that fellow Laud; and how Margaret can endure him is +to me strange.”</p> + +<p>“She knew him, my boy, before he became the character he now is.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry to lose my sister; but she will at least be better off where +she is, and far away from reproaches. We must make out without her aid +as well as we can. Our old sexton’s sister has promised to come and do +for us; so we shall have some help.”</p> + +<p>So father and son consoled themselves; and after their frugal meal +returned to their straw-stuffed beds; and slept upon their cares.</p> + +<p>Meantime it was no small task that Margaret had undertaken. She was to +be as a mother to seven young children, and to keep her uncle’s house in +order, and to provide everything to the best of her power. But her +spirit was equal to the undertaking; and the new life which came to her +through change of place and people soon animated her to those exertions +necessary to her position—a situation so difficult and arduous.</p> + +<p>Place a woman in a domestic station, where the power of a mistress and +the work of a servant are to be performed, and see if she cannot show +what a quantity of work may be done with one pair of hands. A good head, +and a kind heart, and a willing hand, are virtues which, as long as +industry and honesty are praiseworthy, will be sure to succeed.</p> + +<p>Her uncle was but a labourer, earning twelve shillings a week at the +utmost, and that by working over-hours. At that time of day such wages +were considered very large; and where the housewife was active with her +loom, or the aged with her spinning-wheel, labourers used sometimes to +lay by something considerable, and not unfrequently rose to be +themselves masters. The wages which Mr. Leader earned were sufficient, +in the hands of this active girl, to provide every necessary for the +week, and to lay by something for rent.</p> + +<p>She soon made the eldest girl a good nurse; and gave her such a method +of management as saved<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> herself much trouble. In the first place, she +began her rule with a most valuable maxim of her own inculcation: “A +place for everything, and everything in its place.” Another of her +maxims was: “Clean everything when done with, and put it up properly and +promptly.” Also, “Whenever you see anything wrong, put it right.” +"Everything that is broken should be either mended or thrown away.” She +would not admit of waste in anything. Among her good old saws was also:</p> + +<div class="poetry width20"> +<div class="line">Early to bed, and early to rise,</div> +<div class="line">Makes a man healthy, and wealthy, and wise.</div> +</div> + +<p>She would never suffer a bill to stand beyond the week at any shop. The +Saturday night, at nine o’clock, saw her and her uncle’s family out of +debt, and the children all clean washed, with their white linen laid out +for the Sabbath-day. And to see, on that holy day, with what quiet, +hushed little feet they entered, four of them at least, the village +church of Brandiston, with their foster-mother, was a sight which caught +the attention of every well-disposed person in the parish. Master +Leader’s luck in a housekeeper was soon spoken of; and many a parent +pointed out Margaret as a good chance for a poor man.</p> + +<p>Up to this time Margaret could not read a single word: but she was very +glad when the vicar’s lady undertook to send two of the children to the +village-school. She encouraged them to learn their daily tasks, and made +them teach her in the evening what they had learned at the school in the +day; and in this manner she acquired her first knowledge of letters. The +children took such pleasure in teaching her, that they always paid the +greatest attention to their lessons.</p> + +<p>Margaret was now comparatively happy in the performance of her duties; +and felt relieved from the restraint and reproach which at Nacton, where +her father lived, had been attached to her character, on account of +William Laud. How long she might have continued in this enviable state +of things it would be difficult to surmise; but she seemed fated to +encounter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> untoward circumstances over which she could exercise no +control. She conducted herself with the greatest propriety. The children +loved her as they would a kind parent; and all who knew her in the +village of Brandiston esteemed her for her able conduct of her uncle’s +family. Had that uncle himself been a wise man, he would never have +given occasion for Margaret to leave him: but no man is wise at all +hours; and Mr. Leader, though a very honest, good labourer, and a steady +man in his way, in an hour of too little thought, perhaps, or of too +superficial promise of happiness, chose to take unto himself a new wife; +a fat buxom widow of forty, owner of two cottages, and two pieces of +land in Brandiston Street, and a little ready money besides, with only +one little daughter, engaged his attention. He, poor simple man, +thinking he might better his condition, save his rent, and add to his +domestic comfort, consented, or rather entreated, that the banns might +be published for his second marriage.</p> + +<p>Had the woman herself been a wise one, she would have seen how requisite +Margaret’s care was to the family. But she became mistress, and must +command every one in the house—her house too! and she was not to be +interfered with by any one. She would not be dictated to in her own +house. No! though her husband had a niece who might have been all very +well, yet he had now a wife, and a wife ought to be a man’s first +consideration—a wife with a house over her head, her own property.</p> + +<p>Men may have notions of the greatness of their possessions; but a weak +woman, when once she has an all-absorbing and over-weening idea of her +own great wealth, becomes so infatuated with the possession of power +which that property gives her, that there are scarcely any bounds to her +folly. Money may make some men, perhaps many, tyrants; but when a woman +exercises the power of money alone, she becomes the far greater tyrant. +Her fondness for wealth makes her more cruel and unnatural in her +conduct; she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> forgets her sex—her nature—her children—her +friends—her dependents—and, alas! her God!</p> + +<p>And soon did the new Mrs. Leader make a chaos of that family which had +recently been all order and regularity. The management of household +affairs was taken out of Margaret’s hands. Bills were left to be paid +when the new mistress received the rents of her cottages and land. The +children were foolishly indulged; turned out to play in the street; +taught to disregard Margaret, and to look upon her as a servant; her +daughter was never to be contradicted; in short, every one in the house +was to bend to the will of its new mistress.</p> + +<p>Such a change had taken place in the comforts and conduct of the house, +that Margaret, with all her care could manage nothing. She was thwarted +in all she did—eyed with jealousy on account of the praise bestowed +upon her—taught continually to remember and know herself and her +station—and to behave with more respect to her betters, or else to quit +the house.</p> + +<p>Margaret had a sweet temper, and really loved her uncle and the +children, or she could not have endured so long as she did the +waywardness of this purse-proud woman.</p> + +<p>Matters had been going on in no very pleasant manner in Mr. Leader’s +cottage, and Margaret had found herself in a very uncomfortable +situation. She had been quite removed from her honourable station, as +governess of the family, and had been treated as a very unworthy menial +by her ignorant aunt.</p> + +<p>While things were in this state, it so happened, that one evening in the +month of April, Margaret was sent from her aunt’s cottage to the village +shop to purchase some article that was wanted for the morrow. It was +late when she went out, and the shop stood completely at the end of the +village. It was one of those general shops, half a good dwelling-house, +and half a shop, where the respected tenant carried on a considerable +business without much outward show.</p> + +<p>A lane branched off from the main street leading<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> down to the vicarage, +called the Church Road. It was, properly speaking, the Woodbridge Road +from Brandiston. At the moment Margaret was passing over this crossway +towards the shop, she was accosted by the familiar voice of one asking +where Mr. William Leader lived. Margaret replied:—</p> + +<p>“I am now come from Mr. Leader’s. He is my uncle. Do you want to see +him?”</p> + +<p>“No, Margaret, it is yourself I am in search of. Do you not know my +voice?”</p> + +<p>It was William Laud!</p> + +<p>The reader must conceive the joy, the astonishment, the surprise, the +fear, or all these sensations combined in one, which Margaret, the +persecuted Margaret, felt in being thus accosted by her lover. Did it +require any great persuasion to induce her to turn aside at such a +moment, and walk a little way down the Church Road, past the Old Hall, +with one she had not seen or heard of for so long a time; one whom, with +a woman’s faithfulness, she still loved with all the strength of her +mind and heart?</p> + +<p>“I have been very ill, Margaret,” said Laud, “since I came ashore and +saw your father and brother. It was the very evening of the day you left +home. Had you left one day later, I should have seen you, and, perhaps, +I might have been spared a fever which has reduced me to the verge of +the grave.”</p> + +<p>“It is so long since I have seen or heard of you, William, that I began +to think you had forgotten me.”</p> + +<p>“I have never forgotten you, Margaret, and I never shall, till I cease +to remember anything. In storm and tempest, in calm and sunshine; in the +midnight watch, or under the clear blue sky; in danger or in safety, in +health or in sickness; in the hour of boisterous mirth, or in the rough +hammock of the seaman, when the dash of waves and the whistling winds +have swept by me, Margaret, I have always thought of you; but never more +than in those moments of fever and anxiety, when I have been suffering +from the extremes of pain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> and sickness. Then, Margaret, I remembered +your soothing kindness; and then I bitterly felt your absence. But have +you forgotten and forgiven my rough conduct, when we last met, a long +time ago? I am alone now, and but a poor creature.”</p> + +<p>“I have not forgotten, William, because I cannot forget; but I have +always forgiven you. Much, much have I suffered on your account; shame, +reproach, and poverty, have visited me through you—loss of kindred, +friends, and companions; but God has enabled me to bear all, with the +hope that I should one day see you an altered man.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Margaret, yes; and so you shall. I am altered much—I long to +leave my present line of life and to settle in some place where I never +was known. Captain Bargood has given me his word, that, after one more +voyage, I shall be released, with prize-money sufficient to settle +anywhere I please, and to give me a free passage to that place, be it +where it may.”</p> + +<p>“I can only say, William, I wish that one voyage was over. I hate your +companions and your employment. I fear to lose you again, William. Oh, +why not get some honest work on land, and let me toil for and with you?”</p> + +<p>“Margaret, I am here upon my word of honour to the captain, that I would +go one more run for him. I have been a long trip this last time, across +the Atlantic, and I am promised a different tack the next time. But it +will soon be over, and then I will renounce them all. The captain has +nursed me in his own house, and though a rough fellow and a poor +comforter for a sick man, yet I believe he did his best, and I am bound +to be grateful to him.”</p> + +<p>“I wish your duty taught you, Will, some better obligation. My heart +misgives me for you; and I can never sanction a day in unlawful +pursuits. I grieve for you. But time steals away, William, and I have +forgotten my own duty. I have not a very kind mistress in my new aunt; +but my duty is obedience. I have to go to shop now, and I fear it will +be closed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> if I delay any longer. When shall I see you again, William?”</p> + +<p>“I fear me, not until this last voyage is over. I hope that will be a +short one. I shall just go into the King’s Head, refresh myself, and +start again for the coast by daylight.”</p> + +<p>“Well, William, you have my prayers and my love, and I hope you may one +day claim my duty. At present, that duty is due to my uncle. So we must +part!—Take care of yourself.—How did you catch that fever?”</p> + +<p>“By over-exertion in returning to my boat by Orwell Park, the night I +left your father. We struck across the country, as we heard of our +pursuers, and came to the shore greatly heated with our run. The wind +was fair for us, and I had nothing else to do but to sit still. I +covered myself with a piece of damp sail and fell asleep, and when I +awoke I found myself as stiff as a mast—I could not move a limb. But I +will take care of myself for your sake, Margaret, for the future.”</p> + +<p>By this time they had just arrived at the vicarage palings, upon their +return, where the angle of the street branched off, and for a moment +they paused to take the farewell salute which faithful lovers ever +appreciate.</p> + +<p>They little thought who was near to hear their last parting words, and +to witness that love which they thought no one but themselves beheld. +The farewell was spoken, and Laud departed. Margaret stood a moment, +with affectionate heart and tearful eye, to watch his receding form, and +then, turning round the corner to go to the shop, she encountered the +enraged Mrs. Leader. She could only walk on in passive silence through +the village, whilst her aunt’s voice, rising higher and higher as she +approached her own domicile, made the neighbours peep out of their +windows to learn the cause of such a disturbance. At last they arrived +at home, and Mr. Leader, with a thousand exaggerations, was informed of +his niece’s atrocious conduct.</p> + +<p>She eyed the poor girl with such malignant satis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>faction, as if she had +already seen her condemned, by judge, jury, counsel, and all the court. +Poor Margaret! she had not attempted to speak; she felt for her +uncle—she felt for his children—she felt for her lover; but for +herself, nothing. She knew her own heart, and felt keenly the cruelty +and injustice of her aunt’s spiteful accusations; but that did not wound +her so much as to see the crestfallen distress of the master of that +cottage, who, but a short time before, never addressed her but in thanks +or praise.</p> + +<p>Margaret sighed, looked at her uncle, and briefly explained her +accidental meeting with William Laud.</p> + +<p>This only caused Mrs. Leader to break out into a fresh passion. She +abused her husband, abused Margaret, her lover, her father, her brother, +and every one connected with her. The base reflections she heard cast +upon her family roused the poor girl’s indignation, and, after telling +the enraged woman a few home truths, expressed her determination to quit +the house.</p> + +<p>“I shall leave you now—yes, before another hour is gone. I shall only +kiss the children, pack up my little bundle, and then I take my +departure. Uncle, I have done my duty by you, and I sincerely wish you +happy. I have had nothing of you, and have nothing to leave behind me, +but my humble blessing for yourself and your children. Give me your +hand, uncle; let <i>us</i>, at all events, part good friends. You know that I +do not mind the night. A journey to me at this time, under these +circumstances, is no more than a journey would be by day. As to you, +aunt Leader, whether you shake hands with me or not must rest with your +own self. I would not part even with you in malice. Good-bye, aunt +Leader. Good-night!”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Leader had heard enough; she had met with a spirit which, when +roused, was equal to her own; and though she looked as if she could have +dashed the poker at the poor girl before her, she dared not stir an +inch: the fury fell back from her seat, and went off in a fit.</p> + +<p>Margaret stayed that night, but not another day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> The next morning she +set her uncle’s breakfast out, saw the children dressed, and sent to the +school, and then went upstairs to pack up her own bundle. Before doing +so, however, the Bible, which had been given her by John Barry, +attracted her attention. It was a small clasped book, and, from being +unable to read it, she had never made any outward parade of her +possession of it. On now seeing it, she mechanically unclasped the book, +and in the first page there lay a £5 bank-note, and in the last page +another of the same value. What a treasure was here! How did her heart +bless the noble generosity of the youth who, at a time when money was of +the greatest value to him, thus sacrificed a great share of his riches +to the welfare of one who could never personally thank him for it!</p> + +<p>Margaret had made up her mind, however, to seek a situation for herself +in Ipswich. She remembered the kindness of the worthy surgeon who had +attended her sister in her childhood, and poor John Barry when he was +wounded, and she resolved to seek his aid. With a full heart, she +carefully replaced the notes as she found them, resolving to store them +up against a time of need. And, with more consciousness of independence +than she had ever before felt, she packed up her little bundle, and went +to take leave of her uncle and aunt.</p> + +<p>With five shillings, the gift of her uncle, a half-guinea, the gift of +her brother Charles, and a bundle, not a very weighty one, Margaret +Catchpole departed from Brandiston. But, fearing her aunt’s displeasure, +and that she would send strange reports to Nacton, and that her own +presence under her father’s roof would give some countenance to these +malicious falsehoods, she determined not to return home, but to take the +road to Woodbridge.</p> + +<p>At that time, Noller’s wagon, from Ipswich to Woodbridge, Wickham +Market, and Framlingham, passed her upon its return; and the driver +asking her if she would like to ride, she gladly accepted the offer. +They arrived at Ipswich about two o’clock<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> in the afternoon. Margaret +determined to seek a place immediately, and for that purpose brushed the +dust off her gown, and made herself as decent as her poor wardrobe would +allow, and arrived at the door of Mr. George Stebbing, under very +different circumstances from those which had formerly brought her to the +same spot.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV<br /><span style="font-size:70%">A CHEERFUL CHANGE</span></a></h2> + +<p>He was a merry, cheerful man, the active surgeon, who lived in the tall, +red-bricked house, in Orwell Place. His practice was good, extending +from the best families in the town and neighbourhood of Ipswich, to that +which is always the most benevolent part of a surgeon’s duty, the +dispensing medicine and advice to the poor. George Stebbing was an early +riser, and a very active practitioner; he was skilful and attentive; and +it was truly said of him, that he never neglected a poor patient to +attend a rich one. He had his rounds before breakfast, among his poorer +patients; next his town practice; and his country visits in the +afternoon. He generally contrived to be found at home from nine to ten +o’clock in the morning; and from two to three in the afternoon, always +dining at one.</p> + +<p>There was one passion, if it may be so called, which, at certain seasons +of the year, made the doctor break through all his rules and +regulations, and to which he so willingly gave way, as to cause him +serious loss of practice among family patients, who could not make +allowances for his neglect,—namely, a passion for shooting. He was an +excellent shot, delighted in the exercise, and enjoyed it as much in his +old days as he did in his youth. His figure scarcely ever altered +through life. He never grew corpulent, never inactive;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> but retained his +zest for his gun, with a steady hand, to a good old age.</p> + +<p>But for this passion for shooting, the doctor might have secured for +himself a more extensive and lucrative practice. It certainly was a kind +of passport among many great landed proprietors, who liked his shooting +and his society, and for a good day’s shooting, come it when it might, +many of his patients were neglected. He was of a very generous nature, +and sometimes felt keenly the reproaches of those whom for the sports of +the field he deserted; and there were times in which his own conscious +neglect made him sorrowful; but it did not cure him of his favourite +propensity. At all other times, he was as regular as a well-cleaned +clock.</p> + +<p>Margaret arrived at this gentleman’s door, and was shown into the +surgery just as he was preparing to go into the country. The surgery was +a lofty room, though of small dimensions; the window looked down a +neatly paved area, beside the offices of the house; and flower-stands, +filled with geraniums and other green-house plants, stood against the +side of the wall opposite the kitchen. All was neatness within and +without the walls of his house.</p> + +<p>She had scarcely been seated in the surgery a minute, before in came the +merry man, with his cheerful smile and ready address. “Well, young +woman, what’s the matter with you, eh? What is it? A bad tooth? let us +see—let us see. It can be nothing else. You look the picture of health! +What’s the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing is the matter, sir,” said Margaret, rising and curtsying.</p> + +<p>“Then what do you want with the doctor, my girl?”</p> + +<p>“I am come to ask you, sir, if you could help me to a place.”</p> + +<p>“A place!" cried the doctor; “why, whom do you take me for? Did you +think my surgery was a register-office for servants? What have I to do +with places? Who on earth sent you to me?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>“No one sent me, sir; I came of my own accord, because you are the only +person that I know in Ipswich.”</p> + +<p>“Well, they say a great many more people know Tom Fool than Tom Fool +knows. I don’t recollect ever seeing you before. I know not who you are +in the least.”</p> + +<p>“What, sir! do you not remember when you lifted me off the pony at your +door, ever so many years ago, and called me a brave little girl, and +told me, when you left me at my father’s, that if ever I wanted a friend +I should find one in you?”</p> + +<p>“What! are you the girl that made the pony go? Can you be Margaret +Catchpole, the heroine of Nacton Turf?”</p> + +<p>“I am Margaret, sir; I left my uncle’s, at Brandiston, this morning, and +am come to Ipswich in search of a place. I have lost my sister, my +mother, and two brothers, and, knowing no one in Ipswich but you, I +thought, sir, as you promised to help me, you would not be offended at +my asking. I only want to work and live without being burdensome to any +one.”</p> + +<p>“Well, and what place do you want, my girl?”</p> + +<p>“I can do any kind of plain work, sir, from the cow-house to the +nursery.”</p> + +<p>“Nursery! nursery! do you know anything about the care of children?”</p> + +<p>“I am very partial to children, sir, and children are very fond of me; +my uncle had seven little ones, and only me to look after them until he +married again.”</p> + +<p>“Humph!—Well, go into my kitchen, my girl"—and here the kind-hearted +man opened his door and introduced her to his cook. “Sally, this is the +girl that rode the pony for the doctor, see and take care of her. Where +is your young mistress?” But suddenly turning round as if a thought +struck him he said, “Margaret! Margaret! my girl, stop one moment, I +must know if you have quite recovered from that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> complaint you had +before you left the Priory Farm?”</p> + +<p>“Dear me, sir, I never was ill there.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! yes, you were, Margaret; if you remember, I had to feel your pulse +and prescribe for you; your heart was very bad?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! no, sir, I hope not.”</p> + +<p>“Let me ask you one question, Margaret—Have you done with the smuggler? +Because, though I should be glad to serve <i>you</i>, I should be sorry to +run the risk of introducing bad acquaintances into any respectable +family where I might recommend you.”</p> + +<p>This was another terrible blow for poor Margaret, and how to answer it +she knew not; she remained silent and abashed, and the worthy surgeon +was touched more by her silence than if she had spoken ever so much; it +told him at once the state of the case.</p> + +<p>“Well, well, my girl, I see how it is; but you must not encourage him to +visit you when you are at service. Go! go! I will talk to you another +time.”</p> + +<p>And Margaret was again an inmate in that kind man’s house, who always +was a steady and sincere friend to her throughout her eventful career. +He had at that very time made up his mind to write a note of +recommendation to a lady who lived at the Cliff, upon the banks of the +Orwell; but he delayed it for a day or two, on purpose to hear what +report his own domestic gave of her. And here Margaret remained in the +humblest and purest enjoyment of peace and quietness that she had felt +for many years.</p> + +<p>It was a lovely evening in the latter part of the month of May, when the +mackerel-boats were coming up the Orwell, being unable to reach the +mouth of the Nore, that old Colson (better known to the reader as +Robinson Crusoe) rowed his little boat up to the landing-place, close to +the Cliff Brewery, and startled some young children who were watching +the tiny eels playing about those large dark stones which formed the +head of the landing-place. Here a stream of fresh water, gushing from +beneath, formed the outlet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> of the canal stream which turned the great +wheel in the brewery of John Cobbold, Esq.</p> + +<p>The eels from the river, especially the young ones, used to be +incessantly playing about this outlet, striving either to get up into +the fresh water, or else feeding upon the animalculæ which came from the +canal, and tried to get back again out of the salt water.</p> + +<p>The old man lifted up some small sand-dabs for the children, all alive +and kicking, and gave them to them, with which they soon bounded up the +Cliff steps, and ran joyously to a lady, who, with two gentlemen, sat +sketching under the lime-trees which then fronted the small +dwelling-house adjoining the more lofty buildings of the brewery.</p> + +<p>The lady was Mrs. Cobbold, and the two gentlemen were her friends, and +both eminent artists in their day. One had already greatly distinguished +himself as a portrait-painter, and vied with Sir Joshua Reynolds in his +own particular school of painting: this was Gardiner, a distant relative +of the lady. He was a singular old gentleman, in every way a talented +original; his family groups, in half crayon, half water-colour, gained +general admiration; and to this day they stand the test of years, never +losing their peculiar freshness, and remain as spirited as on the first +day they were painted. The other was indeed but a boy, a fine +intelligent lad, with handsome, open countenance, beaming with all the +ardour of a young aspirant for fame: this was John Constable, who was +then sketching the town of Ipswich from the Cliff, and brushing in the +tints of the setting sun, and receiving those early praises from the +lips of that benevolent and talented lady which became a stimulus to his +exertions, before he was raised to the eminence of a first-rate +landscape-painter.</p> + +<p>Gardiner delighted in the buoyant group of children, who, with their +flapping fish, came bounding up the Cliff. “Look here! look here! see +what old Robin has given us.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>The artist’s eyes dilated with glee as he quickly noted down their +jocund faces and merry antics for some future painting. If he had +experienced pleasure in the character of James, Thomas, George, +Elizabeth Ann, and Mary, what a fine master-figure was now added to the +group in the person of old Robin, the fisherman, who, with his basket of +mackerel and soles, stood behind the children in front of the happy +party!</p> + +<p>Gardiner’s picture of the “Fisherman’s Family" was taken from this +group, and it was one which in his mature years gained him much +celebrity.</p> + +<p>“Well, Robin, what fish have you got?” said the lady, “and how do the +witches treat you?”</p> + +<p>“As to the first, madam, here are mackerel and soles; as to the latter, +they treat me <a name="CORR_3" id="CORR_3"><ins class="correction" title="original: scurvily?”">scurvily!”</ins></a></p> + +<p>“What’s that? what’s that?” said Gardiner; “what’s all that about the +witches?”</p> + +<p>Old Colson looked at him a minute, and partly believed he was a brother +sufferer; for Gardiner never was what the world has since denominated a +dandy, he was never even a beau; he was careless in his dress, and very +abrupt in his address,—extremely clever and extremely eccentric.</p> + +<p>“Why, this is it,” said the old fisherman, “if the foul fiend treats you +as he does me, he makes us both such hideous objects that nobody can +bear to look at us.”</p> + +<p>There was no little colour in the artist’s face at this moment: he had +met with a light and shade, an odd mixture upon his palette not easily +defined, and he looked himself rather vacant upon the fisherman.</p> + +<p>“I see how it is,” said Robin; “they have been at work upon you, and +have put your robes out of order; but give them a blast of this ram’s +horn, and you will soon get rid of them.”</p> + +<p>Here the old man presented a ram’s horn to the astonished artist.</p> + +<p>“What does the man mean, Mrs. Cobbold? what does the man mean?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + +<p>This was rather a delicate point to answer; but the little shrewd Mary, +who perfectly well knew what the old man meant, said at once with the +most perfect innocence—</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Gardiner! Robin means that you look so dirty and shabby that +you must be bewitched.”</p> + +<p>At this moment a servant brought a note to the lady, which, on opening, +she read as follows:—</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“<span class="smcap">My dear Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“You mentioned to me some time since that you wanted a good strong +girl who could assist in the double capacity of a laundress and a +nursery-maid; the bearer of this is Margaret Catchpole, whom I have +known from her infancy. My cook tells me she is very quick at +learning, and very handy at any work that may be required of her; +she also states herself to be very fond of children. She lived +servant-of-all-work at the Priory Farm, and has since kept her +uncle’s house, where she has had the care of seven young children. +Mr. Notcutt, who knew her when she lived at service at Bealings, +speaks highly of her character. I think you will find her a very +useful servant; and if you have not engaged one, I really think you +will be satisfied with this young woman. Wishing that such may be +the case, believe me to remain, my dear madam, yours faithfully,</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">George Stebbing</span>.</p> + +<table class="address" summary="address"> +<tr><td class="pad1">"Orwell Place,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad1">"May 25th, 1793."</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p>As Mrs. Cobbold opened the note, the artists retired; and she told the +footman to send the young woman round to the front of the house, and she +would speak to her there. She then kindly addressed the old fisherman:—</p> + +<p>“I wish, Robin, I could find a charm which would drive all these fiends +away from you at once, that you might become a believer in a more +blessed agency than in such unhappy beings.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Ah! bless you, lady! bless you! If your wish could but be gratified, I +should soon be at liberty; but it will never be so: they have taken up +their abode with me, and as long as they can torment me, they will. I +knew last night that there would be a storm, and, sure enough, there was +one; but my old barque rode it out, though many a tighter craft went to +the bottom. My foes, though they love to punish my flesh, will not let +me perish.”</p> + +<p>“That is but a vain hope, Robin, which will one day deceive you: you +trust too much in your crazy barque, and to a no less crazy imagination; +and, when too late, you will own your self-delusion.”</p> + +<p>His benefactress could not succeed in arguing him out of his belief, and +had just told him to leave the fish at the back-door, as Margaret made +her appearance before her future mistress.</p> + +<p>She started back when she beheld Robin, and again thought that some evil +genius had determined to oppose her wherever she went.</p> + +<p>“Ah! is that you, Peggy? It’s many a long day since I’ve seen you. Have +the fiends played you any more tricks?”</p> + +<p>Margaret made her curtsy to the lady, but dared not reply to the +salutation of the old fisherman, lest he should betray the secret of her +heart. She was evidently confused.</p> + +<p>“You need not be so proud either, young woman, as to forget a friend; +but you are like the rest of the world:—‘Those whom we first serve are +the first to forget us.’ Now, to my mind, you’re a fit match for Will +Laud, and he’s about as ungracious a chap as any I know.”</p> + +<p>The tear started into Margaret’s eye, and she could not utter a word. In +the accents of kindness, however, the lady addressed the trembling girl.</p> + +<p>“You must not mind all the wanderings of old Robin, you will be better +acquainted with him hereafter.”</p> + +<p>“And so will you, ma’am, with her before long.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> The foul fiend has long +dwelt with her and hers, and you’ll soon find that out. I’ve known her +almost as long as I’ve known you, ma’am; and if she’s a-coming to your +service, why, all I can say is, there will be pretty pranks a-going on +in your house.”</p> + +<p>Here the poor girl could refrain no longer from tears; she sobbed as if +her heart would break, and the scene more than commonly interested the +benevolent lady.</p> + +<p>“What has Robin known of you, young woman, that he should speak so +harshly against you? How have you offended him?”</p> + +<p>“I never offended him, ma’am—never that I know of! He was very kind to +me, and once, ma’am—once——" and here Margaret paused, and could not +finish her sentence.</p> + +<p>Robin now quickly saw he was mistaken, and going close up to the girl, +he said,—</p> + +<p>“I ask your pardon, Peggy! I thought you were proud—I see how it is! I +see how it is!—Forgive me! forgive me, ma’am! She’s a good girl; aye, +she’s a clever girl! I thought she was a bit proud, so the fiend made me +bark at her, that’s all;" and, making his bow, he went with his basket +of fish to the back-door.</p> + +<p>The lady evidently saw there was a mystery; but, well knowing the sudden +changes of the bewildered mind of the fisherman, although she always +found a shadow of truth about all his ravings, she placed no faith in +any of his prognostications. She did not again question Margaret upon +that subject, but spoke to her about her duties. She found her fully +sensible of what she might have to do, and quite ready to undertake the +place. She agreed to give her, progressively improving wages, and told +her that as Mr. Stebbing had given her a recommendation, she should try +her. Mrs. Cobbold desired her to come on the morrow, and wished her +good-evening.</p> + +<p>The next day saw Margaret an inmate of that family where her name will +never be forgotten; where she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> spent so many days of real, uninterrupted +happiness; where she became respected by her mistress and family, and +was a very great favourite with all her fellow-servants. Margaret came +to her new place with a good character; with youth, health, hope, and a +willing mind for work. By the advice of the doctor’s old servant, she +came (by means of John Barry’s generous gift) with every article clean, +new, and decent, and had the sum of six pounds left for a nest-egg.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV<br /><span style="font-size:70%">THE NEW PLACE</span></a></h2> + +<p>There is no class of persons in society so much neglected as domestic +servants, none who are placed in more responsible stations, to whom more +confidence is given, and from whom more is expected; yet there are none +who are less instructed, except in the duties of their stations, and +even these they have to learn as they can. The law visits no one with +severer penalties for any dereliction of duty; and the world makes fewer +allowances for their faults than for those of any other class.</p> + +<p>The excellent lady in whose service Margaret was placed was one who felt +this truth, and took every opportunity she could to improve the minds of +all who came under her roof. She was one of the most enlightened of her +sex, with a mind cultivated to the highest degree, and acquainted from +her infancy with many of the leading persons of the day, in art, +literature, and science. And she was not less domestic than enlightened. +The writer of these pages knew her well, and loved her dearly. He +admired her with deep and reverential love. He was not able, indeed, to +appreciate the full extent of her benevolent character till years had +snatched her away, and left him “never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> to look upon her like again.” +This he can truly say, that, in the course of twenty years’ +acquaintance, he never knew what it was to have a dull moment in her +company. Lest any may think this is saying too much, let some of those +who now occupy public stations of importance, and some of whom were her +domestic servants, say, how much they were indebted to her instructions. +Let some, even of a higher and more independent class, who have since +attained the pinnacle of their professions, tell how much they were +indebted to the first encouraging advice of her, who saw and prized +their talents, and rejoiced in their development. She was a most kind +benefactress to all who needed her advice or assistance, and to none was +she a greater friend, and by none was she more deeply loved, than by the +poor girl whom she took into her service, as a sort of general help in +the humblest station in her family.</p> + +<p>At the Cliff there was not a single individual in whom the mistress did +not feel a deep interest. None were beneath her notice; none came near +her whom she did not strive to improve. Though she commanded the hearts +of many highly distinguished persons in the drawing-room, she commanded +the affections of her family, and of every servant under her roof. Poor +Margaret appeared to her an object of peculiar interest. Ignorant as she +found her in letters, and in many things relating to her situation, +there was in her a capacity, which this lady discovered, to require +nothing but instruction to perfect it. Readily did she comprehend when +the kindness of her mistress was shown in condescending to teach her, +and rapid was the progress she made in everything explained to her.</p> + +<p>Margaret had a difficult situation to fulfil even in the household +arrangements of this excellent lady; for she was under-nursemaid in the +morning, and under-cook in the evening; two very different stations, but +both of which she discharged with fidelity, and at length rose in that +family to fill the head place in both stations at different periods.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + +<p>Her mistress had married a gentleman who had fourteen children living at +the time, and she had every prospect of seeing the number increase. It +required a woman of energy to direct the household affairs of such a +numerous family, as well as a woman of method and management in the +nursery. Well did Margaret second the work which the head nurse had in +hand. No one could be more indefatigable in her duties—none more +constantly employed.</p> + +<p>It was Margaret’s especial province to walk out with the children, to +carry the young ones, and to lead now and then an elder one. A retired +and pleasant walk it was at the back of the Cliff to Sawyer’s Farm, +either along the river’s side to the Grove, or Hog Island, or through +the farmyard, up the sandy hill, from the top of which Ipswich and its +environs were so conspicuous. In all the innocent enjoyments of +children, Margaret took particular delight. She would make chains of +dandelions, whistles of cats’ tails; collect lords and ladies, string +ladies’ hair; make whips of rushes for the boys, and cradles for dolls +for the girls. Her eyes were ever watchful, her hands ever useful. The +children loved her, and bounded to her with pleasure, whenever the order +was given for a walk. She was equally dauntless in their defence, +whether it was against a dog, or the geese, or the cattle of the field, +or the gipsy, or the drunken sailor.</p> + +<p>During this service, an occurrence took place of a singularly +providential nature, which showed the sagacity of this poor girl, and +her presence of mind in so striking a light, that it is well worthy to +be here recorded. The children were all going for a walk, and Master +George and Master Frederic were listening at a rat’s hole, under the +foundation of a building, where the workmen were making some +alterations, and had taken away a great deal of the soil, upon one side +of the brickwork. As Margaret came up with some half-dozen of the young +fry, the boys exultingly called to her to come and hear the old rat +gnawing something in the hole.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + +<p>Margaret approached, and with that natural quickness of perception with +which she was so gifted, saw danger in the situation of the children. +Listening one moment at the hole she was convinced that the creaking +sound she heard did not proceed from a rat. In another instant she +seized the children by their arms, and exclaimed, with a terror that +communicated itself to them all, “Come away! come away! that wall is +settling!” Scarcely had she ran with the children half a dozen yards +from the spot, when down came the wall in a mass of ruin that must have +buried them all beneath it but for the providential sagacity of this +young girl. To this day the circumstance is remembered by the parties +interested in it, and is looked upon as the interposition of their good +angel, in making use of this humble instrument for the preservation of +their lives.</p> + +<p>Margaret, by this time, could both read and write; for the lady, who +superintended the whole management of the nursery, had her regular +school-hours in the morning devoted to the minutiae of progressive +improvement. It was at one of these morning lessons that she discovered +Margaret’s abilities. Hearing the children their lessons in history, and +examining them in the chronology of the kings of England, she was +surprised to hear Margaret prompting Miss Sophia, in a whisper, when the +child was at a loss for the right date. And when she came to question +Margaret, she found that this poor girl had been, though unknown to her, +her most attentive scholar. This induced her to take pains with her, and +to let her be a participator in all the most useful branches of a +nursery education. She was taught to read and write, and understand the +Bible history and the Gospel scheme of redemption; in all which studies +she became as well informed as any of the children. Soon after this, she +rose to be the head nursemaid.</p> + +<p>As the winter came on, the walks became more circumscribed; and though +she occasionally saw the old fisherman, with his basket of soles and +plaice, yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> from him she could gather no tidings of her lover, good or +bad. To hear nothing may be better than to hear bad tidings; but some +may even think that bad news is better than none at all. The certain +knowledge of any catastrophe, if it has taken place, at ever so great a +distance, is always more satisfactory and consoling than years of +agonizing suspense.</p> + +<p>Perhaps some such ideas might have passed in Margaret’s mind; but she +had been so accustomed to hear nothing that was good of her lover, that +she began to construe the long interregnum of his non-appearance into +the hope of some permanent amendment.</p> + +<p>The Orwell, at the period of our narrative, and during the winter +season, was famous for its wild-fowl. At some particular times, when the +decoy-ponds around were frozen over, the birds used to come into the +channel of the river in prodigious flights, covering hundreds of acres +of water with their varieties of plumage. Millions of black coot used to +darken the waves, whilst the duck and the mallard, the diver, the +pin-tail, the bar-goose, and even the wild swan, used to be seen in such +numbers, as in the present day would seem to be incredible. Those, +however, who can remember this river only fifty years ago will fully +corroborate this account. Some live at Ipswich, at this day, who can +well remember the time in which they have made dreadful havoc among the +feathered tribes of the river. Now and then a solitary flight may here +and there be seen visiting the river in the evening, and departing with +the dawn. Since the port of Ipswich has so rapidly increased its +shipping, the traffic of winter, as well as summer, has been so +constant, that the birds have sought some quieter feeding-ground than +the ooze of the Orwell.</p> + +<p>It was at the time when these birds were most frequent, that the young +fowlers of the port used to have extraordinary tales to tell of the +numbers they had killed, and the escapes and adventures they had met +with in the pursuit. One of Mr. Cobbold’s younger sons had a great +<i>penchant</i> for this sport, and, though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> quite a lad, would venture upon +the most hardy enterprises with the weather-beaten sailors, who had been +long accustomed to the river. He was a good shot, too, for a boy, and +would bring home many a duck and mallard as the fruits of his own +excursions.</p> + +<p>It was about four o’clock, one winter evening, when this young gentleman +was seen descending the steps of the Cliff, with the oars over his +shoulder, and his gun in his hand. He looked at the cloudy sky, and +thought he should have good sport upon the river before the morning. His +sisters, Harriet and Sophia, saw him stealing down the Cliff, and he +requested of them not to take any notice of his absence. He unlocked his +boat, and shoved off into the channel alone, rejoicing in the thought of +the <i>spolia opima</i> he should expose next morning at the breakfast-table.</p> + +<p>At tea-time, all the numerous party seated themselves round the table, +before piles of hot toast and bread and butter; and the venerated father +came from his own private room to take his seat with his affectionate +wife and children. He cast his eye upon the party, and looked round the +room, evidently missing one of his children. “Where’s William?” he +inquired. The sisters, Harriet and Sophia, began to titter. “Where’s +William?” again asked the anxious parent; and the lady, who had been +reading some new book, which had absorbed her attention, had not until +then missed the boy.</p> + +<p>Mr. Parkinson, the confidential clerk, a distant relative, replied, +"Master William has gone out in his boat to shoot wild-fowl.”</p> + +<p>“What! on such a night as this? How long since?”</p> + +<p>“Two hours or more, sir.”</p> + +<p>The worthy parent rose from his seat, summoned the clerk to follow him +immediately, and, with a fearful expression of countenance, which +communicated terror to the whole party, he said, “Depend upon it, the +child is lost!”</p> + +<p>It was a night on which no reasonable man would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> have suffered even the +stoutest and strongest sailor to go down the river for such a purpose. +The tide was running out fast, and the ice was floating down in great +masses, enough to stave a stout boat. A piercing sleet, the forerunner +of a snow-storm, drifted along with the wind. Altogether it was as +dismal as darkness and the foreboding anxiety of a fond parent’s heart +could make it. Yet Master William, a mere stripling, was upon the +waters, in a boat which required at least two stout men to manage her, +and at the mercy of the storm. Had not his father by mere chance missed +him, and made inquiries about him, he would not have been heard of till +the next morning, and then they would have spoken of his death. As it +was, the sequel will show how nearly that event came to pass.</p> + +<p>The brewhouse men were summoned, two stout fellows, who were put into +the small boat, and it then came out that Master William had taken the +oars belonging to the little boat, to manage a great, heavy craft that +was large enough to hold a dozen men.</p> + +<p>Mr. Cobbold and his clerk went along the shore, whilst the two men in +the skiff, with great oars, shoved along the edge of the channel. +Occasionally the parties communicated by voice, when the lull of the +waves and winds permitted them to do so; but no tidings of the lost boy +could be obtained.</p> + +<p>What agony did that truly good father endure, yet how mild was his +censure of those who ought to have prevented such a lad incurring such +danger!</p> + +<p>In the midst of these anxieties, there was one who shared them with as +much earnestness as if she had been the mother of the child; and this +was Margaret Catchpole. No weather, no winds, no commands of her +master’s, could overrule that determined activity of mind which this +girl possessed, to lend a helping hand in time of danger. She had thrown +her cloak over her head, and followed her master with the hope that she +might be of some service.</p> + +<p>The party on the shore could no longer hear even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> the voices of those +who were in the boat, as the channel took them round the bed of ooze to +the opposite shore. Still did they pursue their course, calling aloud, +and stopping to listen for some faint sound in reply. Nothing answered +their anxious call but the cold moaning of the wintry wind. They +stretched their eyes in vain; they could see nothing: and they had +walked miles along the shore, passing by the Grove, Hog Island, and the +Long Reach, until they came to Downham Reach. No soul had they met, nor +had any sound, save the whistling of the curlew and the winds, greeted +their ears. The anxious father, down whose cheeks tears began to steal +and to stiffen with the frost, gave his dear son up for lost. He had +lived so long by the river, and knew so well its dangers, that it seemed +to him an impossibility he should be saved; and he turned round just by +the opening to the Priory Farm, and said to his clerk, “We must give it +up;" when Margaret said, “Oh, no, sir, not yet; pray do not give it up +yet! Let us go on farther! Do not go home yet.”</p> + +<p>Thus urged, her master turned again to pursue the search, and she +followed in his path.</p> + +<p>About a hundred yards onwards, under the shade of the wood, they met a +man.</p> + +<p>“Who goes there?” was the question of the anxious father.</p> + +<p>“What’s that to you?” was the rough uncourteous reply, strangely grating +to the father’s heart at such a moment.</p> + +<p>In those rough sounds Margaret recognized Will Laud’s voice. She sprang +forward, exclaiming, to the no small astonishment of her master, “Oh, +William! Mr. Cobbold has lost his son! Do lend a hand to find him.”</p> + +<p>It is needless to dwell upon the mutual surprise of both parties at such +a rencontre. Laud was equally astonished at Margaret’s presence at such +a time, and Margaret herself felt an indescribable hope that her lover +might render some effectual service.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I beg pardon, sir,” said Laud, “but I did not know you.”</p> + +<p>“My son went down the river in a boat some three or four hours since, +and I fear he is lost,” said Mr. Cobbold.</p> + +<p>“I came up the river as far as I could, and have seen no boat. The +floats of ice were so troublesome, that I resolved to come ashore, and +walk to Ipswich. Had there been a boat between Harwich and the Nacton +shore, I must have seen it. I landed close by Cowhall, and I know there +was no boat on the river, at least so far.”</p> + +<p>At that moment they thought they heard some one call. They listened, and +plainly heard the men hallooing from the boat.</p> + +<p>“Ahoy! Ahoy!" called out Will Laud.</p> + +<p>They then listened again, and recognized the voice of Richard Lee, one +of the brewing-men, who called out,—</p> + +<p>“We have found the boat, but no one in her.”</p> + +<p>“Aye, sir,” said Will Laud, “then the young gentleman has got ashore!”</p> + +<p>“I fear not!" said the father; “I fear he is lost!”</p> + +<p>Laud feared the same, when he heard that the young lad had taken no +mud-splashers with him: “But,” he added, “if the youth knew the river, +he would get out of his boat, and walk by the edge of the channel till +he came to this hardware, and then he might get ashore.”</p> + +<p>“What is that dark spot yonder, by the edge of the water?” said +Margaret, as she stooped down to let her eye glance along the dark level +line of the mud.</p> + +<p>“It is only one of the buoys,” said the father, “such as they moor ships +to in the reach.”</p> + +<p>“There is no buoy in that part of the river,” said Will. “Margaret sees +something, and so do I now. I don’t know what it is, but I soon will +though.”</p> + +<p>And without more ado, he stepped on to the mud and was soon upon +all-fours, creeping along, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> dragging his body over the softest +places of the ooze, where he must have sunk into the mud up to his +waist, if he had kept an erect posture. As he advanced, he evidently saw +something lying close to the water’s edge, and, after great toil, he +came up to it. True enough he found it to be the stiff body of the poor +youth they had been in search of. Lifting himself up, he called aloud, +"Ahoy! ahoy! Margaret, you are right;" words of such joy as were never +forgotten in after years by any of that party.</p> + +<p>Laud lost no time in hoisting the poor boy on his back, and, tying his +stiff hands round his own neck with his handkerchief, he crept upon the +mud again toward that shore where stood those anxious friends awaiting +his approach. The boy was, to all appearance, stiff and lifeless. The +hair of his head was one matted mass of ice and mud; his limbs were +stiff and frozen; one leg seemed like a log of hard wood, the other they +could bend a little. He had been up to his neck in the mud, and had +evidently been overcome with the exertion of extricating himself. His +clothes were drawn off his back, and had been used as mud-splashers, +until exhausted nature could make no further effort, and he had sunk, +unconscious, upon the ooze. Death seemed to have done his work.</p> + +<p>The only plan now was to get him home as soon as they could. Laud soon +constructed a carriage for him, of a hurdle, upon which he laid his own +jacket, the father’s great-coat, and over him he threw Margaret’s cloak. +Each of the four persons taking a corner of the hurdle upon their +shoulders, they made their way, as fast as possible, along the shore. In +this way they proceeded at a good round pace, until they reached the +Grove-side, where they met the other servants, coming in company with +the two brewhouse-men, with blankets and brandy, in case Master William +should be found. Their arrival was very opportune, as it enabled the +exhausted party to transfer their burden to the new comers. Mr. Cobbold +expressed his gratitude to Laud, and asked him to come on to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> the Cliff, +and rest himself that night, and he would endeavour to repay him in the +morning.</p> + +<p>“I thank you, sir,” said Laud; “I was coming to see Margaret, and if you +would only grant me a word or two with her, it is all the favour I ask.”</p> + +<p>“As many as you please, my man; but it would be better for her and you, +too, to be at the kitchen fire such a night as this, than to be talking +upon the banks of the Orwell.”</p> + +<p>Laud seemed to hesitate; at last he said, “Well, sir, I will come.”</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards the thoughtful Margaret said to Mr. Cobbold, “Had I not +better run forward, sir, and prepare the slipper-bath, and get the fire +lit in the bed-room, and have warm blankets ready, and send off for Dr. +Stebbing?”</p> + +<p>“Right, Margaret, right!" was her master’s reply; “run, my girl, run! It +will be good for you, too. We shall soon follow you.”</p> + +<p>On went the damsel, and soon passed the men carrying their young master, +and was the first who brought the joyful tidings that Master William was +found. In all her plans, however, she was anticipated by her +ever-thoughtful mistress. The amber room was prepared, as being the +quietest in the house. The bath, the hot water, the salt to rub his +benumbed limbs, were all ready; for it was concluded, that if he was +found, he would be in such a state of paralysation, from the effects of +the weather, as would make it a work of time to recover him. The boy was +sent off immediately for Mr. Stebbing. The whole family were in a state +of hushed and whispering anxiety. The two sisters, especially, who had +seen their brother depart, and had not spoken a word about it, were +deeply bewailing their own faults. In short, all was anxiety, all was +expectation, almost breathless suspense. Margaret’s description to her +mistress was clear, simple, and concise. Her meeting with a sailor, whom +she knew when she lived at Priory Farm, and his acquaintance with all +the buoys on the river, all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> seemed natural and providential. She gave +orders immediately for a bed to be prepared in the coachman’s room for +the sailor, to whose exertions they were so indebted for the restoration +of the child, dead or alive, to his affectionate parents.</p> + +<p>Voices were soon heard coming up the road from the shrubbery, and the +first who entered the house was the father, supporting the head, whilst +the others raised the body of the poor boy. Every exertion was now used, +but for some time no symptoms of life could be observed in him. The +doctor arrived, and he perfectly approved of the steps which had been +taken. He opened a vein, from which the smallest drop of blood exuded. +This he counted a good symptom. He then ordered a bath, at first merely +tepid, and by degrees made warmer. The blood began to flow a little +faster from the arm, and the doctor felt increased hope that the vital +functions were not extinct. With joy he noticed the beginning of a +gentle pulsation of the heart, and a few minutes afterwards of the +wrist, and pointed out these favourable symptoms to the anxious parents. +A little brandy was now forced into the throat. The lips, which had +hitherto been livid as death, began to show a slight change. At length, +in the midst of anxious exertions, the chest began to heave, and the +lungs to obtain a little play; a sort of bubbling sound became audible +from the throat; and, shortly afterwards, a moan, and then the eyelids +half unclosed, though with no consciousness of sight. Convulsive +shudders began to creep over the frame—an indication that a warmer bath +would be judicious. This was soon effected. As the warmth circulated +through the veins, the hands began to move, the eyes to open wider, and +to wander wildly over the space between them. At length they seemed to +rest upon the face of Margaret, who stood at the foot of the bath, and +down whose cheeks tears of hope literally chased each other. A faint +smile was seen to play upon his lips, which told that recognition was +returning. He was then removed from the warm bath to his warm bed.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> + +<p>An hour afterwards, and their unwearied exertions were rewarded with +hearing Master William pronounce the name of “Margaret.” Though so weak +that he could not lift his hand, yet his tongue whispered her name, as +if he felt she had been his preserver.</p> + +<p>He shortly afterwards interchanged smiles with the doctor and his +sisters, and presently afterwards, with his father’s hand clasped in +his, he fell asleep.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI<br /><span style="font-size:70%">BRIGHT HOPES</span></a></h2> + +<p>It is not surprising that Laud, as he stood by the kitchen-fire, and +scraped off the mud, a mixture of clay, weeds, and samphire, which were +clotted upon his coarse trousers, should be considered by the tenants of +that part of the house as a person worthy of all admiration. He had +signalized himself in more than one pair of eyes. The master of the +family and the head clerk had beheld his prowess, and had spoken most +highly of him. They had given orders that whatever he required should be +furnished for him. No wonder, then, that in Tom’s, John’s, or Sally’s +eyes, he should shine with such increased lustre. In Margaret’s he was +beheld with those feelings of love, and hope, and joy, which anticipated +rapid improvement after long drawbacks, and she saw the object of her +attachment at the most happy and propitious moment of her existence. The +joy of that evening was unalloyed. Master William was recovering. The +grateful father made Will and all his servants enjoy a hearty supper +together, before they retired to rest, and took care the social glass +was not wanting to make them as comfortable as possible.</p> + +<p>The whole establishment sat around the well-spread table before a +cheerfully blazing fire, and were descanting upon the dangers of the +night and the perils which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> Mr. William must have encountered. At this +moment the doctor entered.</p> + +<p>His curiosity had been excited by the account he had heard of Will Laud. +He easily distinguished that dark swarthy being, with his blue jacket, +changed, by the drying of the mud upon it, to a kind of dun or +fawn-colour. His black hair hung down over his shaggy brow with his long +man-of-war pigtail; and his whiskers, scarcely distinguishable from his +black beard, fulfilled the idea of the weather-beaten sailor which the +doctor had previously entertained. He was fully satisfied in his own +mind with what he saw. He came, he said, to report to Laud the state of +his patient; and after asking him a few questions, and making some +remarks upon his bravery, he wished them all a good-night, and returned +to the parlour, to encounter the entertaining queries of the intelligent +family at the Cliff.</p> + +<p>His report brought them another visitor. The door again opened, and +their mistress stood before her servants. They all rose as she entered, +and Laud above the rest; but whether from the strangeness of his +situation, or from the belief that the lady was about to speak to him, +the moment that his eye met that intellectual and penetrating glance of +inquiry, it became fixed upon the ground. The voice of thanks reached +him, as well as the words of praise. If they did not gratify <i>him</i>, they +did at least the heart of the poor girl who stood close by him. She +looked in her mistress’s face, and in her heart blessed her for her +kindness.</p> + +<p>“Can we be of any service to you, young man?” said the lady. “We are +anxious to prove ourselves grateful to you: and in any way that you may +claim our future service, you will find us ready to repay you. As an +immediate help, Mr. Cobbold sends you this guinea, an earnest of some +future recompense.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, ma’am! Let Margaret have the guinea, and the thanks too; for +she first discovered the young gentleman.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>This was spoken by Laud without looking at the lady, or once lifting up +his eyes. Was it timidity, or was it shame? Perhaps Laud had never been +interrogated in the presence of a lady before that time.</p> + +<p>He was truly relieved, when Mrs. Cobbold, hoping, as she said, that he +had been well taken care of, and again thanking him for his assistance, +wished him a good night’s rest, and took her departure.</p> + +<p>The opinion of the parlour was not so favourable to Laud as that of the +kitchen, as the character of the bold smuggler was estimated very +differently in each place. Mr. and Mrs. Cobbold, however, were not aware +that Laud was in the British navy, having been seized in his boat by a +pressgang, and been bound to serve his majesty three years on board the +<i>Briton</i> man-of-war, then cruising off the coast of Holland.</p> + +<p>Such was the want of British seamen just at this period of the +breaking-out of the long war, that many smugglers received not only +their pardon, but good pay for joining the navy; and even those taken by +the pressgang were only punished, if it may be termed so, by a +three-years’ well-paid service. Laud had been thus taken, and had been +so well received on board, that his captain, on the night in question, +had granted him permission to come up to Ipswich. He had offered him a +crew, but Laud said he knew the river, and would rather go alone, if the +captain would only lend him one of the small boats and a pair of oars. +He had promised to be on board again the next day. The request was +granted; for the captain was pleased with Laud’s confession of his +object in undertaking to go alone—so, in spite of wind and weather, ice +and snow, he had rowed himself up the river Orwell as far as Nacton +Creek.</p> + +<p>These facts Will had already communicated to Margaret, who, rejoicing in +his present honourable position, overlooked the dangers of a +three-years’ service in defence of his country. She felt more proud of +his presence that night at the Cliff than she had ever before done since +the day of his first entrance into her father’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> cottage. She did not +indeed experience that thrilling warmth of devotion which she once felt +when he visited her on the shores of Downham Reach; but love, through +all its shocks, was much more firm and really hopeful than even at that +enthusiastic period.</p> + +<p>Though Margaret became acquainted with the fact of Laud’s admission into +the British navy, and he spoke openly in the kitchen of his ship and her +commander, yet these things were unknown in the parlour, where, as has +just been stated, his personal appearance and character stood at a heavy +discount. In the kitchen he was a hero, in the parlour a desperado.</p> + +<p>The doctor found Master William in a sound and apparently refreshing +sleep; and retired to a couch prepared for himself in an adjoining room, +in case his services might be required in the night. The servants soon +after parted for their respective dormitories, and Laud took leave of +Margaret for the night.</p> + +<p>It is scarcely possible to believe that Margaret, after all her fatigues +and anxieties, should have refused to retire to her room. She actually +begged permission to sit up all night with Master William. Vain were all +attempts at persuasion. She said she knew that if she went to bed she +could not sleep, and as she begged so hard to be permitted to sit up, +the request was granted.</p> + +<p>Hope is a sweet comforter to an anxious heart, and presented a vision of +future bliss to the wakeful spirit of the maid, which afforded her +occupation for the night, presenting to her the prospect of days to +come, when Laud should obtain an honourable discharge from his country’s +service, where he was now numbered among the bold, the brave, and the +free, and in which the same Providence which had preserved him to +perform the good act of that night would, she hoped, still preserve him +for many more good deeds. In pleasant reflections the night passed away; +nor was there one in that family who did not join in the general +thanksgiving to God for the signal preservation of the youth, who was +wrapped in a profound and refreshing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> sleep, watched by the +ever-constant and faithful Margaret. The tempest of the night had swept +along, and was succeeded by a calm and glorious sun-rising, which shone +upon the glittering fields of snow. The fir-trees were weighed down with +the weight of the ice and snow lodged upon their branches, whilst the +beams of the sun made the drops of pendent icicles fall with a smart +sound to the earth. The sailor came down from his bedroom refreshed +after a sound sleep; and, after he had partaken of a hearty breakfast, +he shook hands with all the servants, and took a more tender leave of +Margaret: leaving his best wishes for the young gentleman, he returned +to his boat some miles down the river, and thence to his ship.</p> + +<p>He was gone before the Cliff party assembled at the breakfast-table, but +he took with him the best prayers of all, and most especially those of +the girl of his heart, for his future safety and prosperity.</p> + +<p>Master William gradually recovered, and took warning from this narrow +escape not to venture any more upon such dangerous excursions. Though +fond of boating, he lost the zest for wild-fowl shooting, and left it +for others to pursue who had not purchased experience at so dear a +price.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII<br /><span style="font-size:70%">ALTERCATION AND EXPLANATION</span></a></h2> + +<p>It was not long after these occurrences that Mr. Cobbold and his family +removed from the Cliff to a house in the town, a large family mansion, +formerly the property of C. Norton, Esq., on St. Margaret’s Green, which +he had purchased, and thither he and his family would have earlier +removed but for some repairs which were not completed until that time. +It was a fine old mansion, fronting the town, with its entrance porch, +and lofty windows, with numerous attics; whilst its drawing, dining, and +breakfast rooms, faced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> the beautiful green fields which then skirted +the town towards the hills upon the Woodbridge Road.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cobbold took the first favourable opportunity of questioning +Margaret respecting her attachment to Will Laud, of whose character she +spoke freely. Margaret spoke warmly in his defence, while she +acknowledged the truth of much that had been advanced against him, and +as warmly expressed her conviction he would reform. Sincerely did the +lady hope that all her poor servant’s favourable anticipations might be +confirmed.</p> + +<p>Upon Margaret’s spirits, however, this conversation, which was broken +off suddenly by the entrance of one of the servants, produced a +depression which greatly affected and afflicted her. Her mistress did +not appear in her eyes either so amiable, or so kind, or so just, or so +considerate, as she had always previously done. She began to suspect +that she was prejudiced even against her on Laud’s account. She fancied +herself not so much beloved by her as she used to be, and that she did +not estimate her services as highly as, by her manner, she used formerly +to show that she did. Words which Margaret would never have thought +anything about at other times, when now spoken by her mistress, seemed +to import something unpleasant, as if her attachment was the reason of +their being uttered. She was never admonished now but she thought it was +because of her unfortunate acquaintance with Laud. Mrs. Cobbold did not +revert, in the least degree, to the past matter of confidential +conversation. Indeed, after her most devout aspirations had been made +for her servant’s future comfort, she did not think about the matter. +But in Margaret’s eyes every little thing said or done seemed to have a +peculiar meaning, which her own warped mind attached to it. In fact, she +became an altered person—suspicious, distrustful, capricious, and, in +many things, far less careful than she ought to have been. And all this +arose from that well-intentioned conversation, voluntarily begun on the +part of her mistress, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> which had created such a serious +disappointment in Margaret’s mind.</p> + +<p>A circumstance arose about the time of the removal of the family, which, +though simple in itself, tended very greatly to inflame that disquietude +in Margaret’s breast, which only wanted to be stirred up to burn most +fiercely.</p> + +<p>Many of the things had been removed to St. Margaret’s Green. Part of the +family had already left the Cliff, and were domesticated in the mansion. +Several of the children, especially all the younger ones, had become +familiarized with their far more extensive nursery: Margaret was with +them. The footman had been sent, together with the gardener, as +safeguards to the house; and even the old coachman, though frequently +engaged driving backwards and forwards from one house to the other, +considered himself, horses and all, as settled at the town-house.</p> + +<p>The Cliff began to be deserted, and in another day the master and +mistress would leave the house to those only who were to live in it. +Mrs. Cobbold and one or two of the elder boys were still at the Cliff. +The faithful old dog, Pompey, still kept his kennel, which stood at the +entrance of the stable-yard. Mr. Cobbold had been superintending the +unpacking of some valuable goods until a late hour, and his lady, at the +Cliff, was anxiously awaiting his return. It was a clear frosty night, +and the snow was upon the ground; but the gravel path had been well +swept down to the shrubbery gate. Pompey had been furiously barking for +some time, and had disturbed Mrs. Cobbold, who was engaged with her +book—some new publication of that eventful time. The two elder boys sat +by the fire. She said to them—</p> + +<p>“I wish, boys, you would go and see what Pompey is barking at.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! it is nothing, I dare say, but some sailors on the shore.”</p> + +<p>The young men, for so they might be called, had taken off their boots or +shoes, and had put on their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> slippers, and very naturally were little +disposed to put them on again, and to move from a nice, comfortable +fire, into the cold air of a frosty night.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cobbold finding, however, that she could not get on with her book +for the increasing rage of the dog, determined to go out herself. She +was a person of no mean courage, and not easily daunted. She thought, +moreover, that if she moved, her sons would leave their backgammon-board +and follow her, and, if not, that she might probably meet her husband. +She put on her thick cloak, threw a shawl over her head, and sallied +forth. As the door opened, Pompey ceased his loud bark, but every now +and then gave a low growl, and a short, suppressed bark, as if he was +not quite satisfied. Mrs. Cobbold walked down the gravel path toward the +gate, and, as she proceeded, she saw a man go across the path and enter +the laurel shrubbery directly before her. She went back immediately to +the parlour, and told the two young men what she had seen; but, whether +it was that they were too deeply engaged with their game, or that they +were really afraid, they treated the matter very lightly, simply saying, +that it was some sweetheart of the cottagers, or that she must have +fancied she saw some one. At all events, they declined to go out, and +advised her not to think anything more about it.</p> + +<p>This neither satisfied the lady nor old Pompey, who began again to give +tongue most furiously. Finding that she was unable to make them stir, +the lady determined to investigate the matter herself; and, telling the +young men her intention, she again went out, and advanced to the very +spot where she had seen the man enter the shrubbery. The traces on the +snow convinced her the man was in the shrubbery. In a firm and decided +voice, she cried out—</p> + +<p>“Come out of that bush—come out, I say! I know you are there; I saw you +enter; and if you do not immediately come out, I will order the dog to +be let out upon you! Come out! You had better come out this moment.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + +<p>The bushes began to move, the snow to fall from the leaves, and out +rolled a heavy-looking man, dressed as a sailor, and apparently drunk; +he looked up at the lady with a villainous scowl, and staggered a step +towards her.</p> + +<p>“What do you do here? Who are you?” she said, without moving.</p> + +<p>“My name’s John Luff. I—(hiccup)—I—I do no harm!”</p> + +<p>At the sound of his voice, Pompey became so furious that he actually +dragged his great kennel from its fixture, and as his chain would not +break, it came lumbering along over the stones towards the spot.</p> + +<p>As the fellow heard this, he began to stagger off, but at every step +turned round to see if the lady followed him.</p> + +<p>This she did, keeping at the same distance from him, and saying, “Be off +with you! be off!” She then saw him go out at the gate, and turn round +the wall, to the shore.</p> + +<p>Farther than her own gate she did not think it prudent to go; but when +she got so far, she was rejoiced to see her husband at a distance +returning upon the marsh wall to the Cliff.</p> + +<p>Old Pompey had by this time come up to the gate with his kennel behind +him, and evidently impatient to be let loose.</p> + +<p>She was engaged in the attempt to unloose the dog as her astonished +husband came up to the gate; he soon learned the cause of this +appearance, and immediately undid Pompey’s collar; the animal sprang +over the gate, and ran along the shore till he came to the cut where +boats occasionally landed, and was closely followed by his master, who +plainly saw a man pulling into the channel in a manner which convinced +him he was no inexperienced hand at the oar.</p> + +<p>In the meantime an exaggerated report reached St. Margaret’s Green, that +a sailor had been seen lurking about the premises at the Cliff, and that +he had attacked their mistress.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + +<p>Of course, the tale lost nothing but truth by the telling; and it was +affirmed in the kitchen that it was Will Laud himself.</p> + +<p>Some told Margaret the fact; she felt greatly annoyed, and was much +surprised that when Mrs. Cobbold came to the house the next day, she did +not speak to her upon the subject. She resolved that if her mistress did +not soon speak to her, she would broach the subject herself; but Mrs. +Cobbold put this question to her the next day:—</p> + +<p>“Margaret, do you know a man of the name of John Luff?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, madam,” she replied; “I do know such a man, and I most heartily +wish I had never known him.”</p> + +<p>“I wish the same, Margaret,” said her mistress, and then related her +recent adventure.</p> + +<p>“He is the man,” said Margaret, “who perverted all Will’s naturally good +talents, and induced him to join his nefarious traffickers. He is a +desperate villain, and would murder any one! Did he threaten you with +any violence? I am glad, indeed, that you escaped unhurt from the fangs +of such a monster.”</p> + +<p>“He did me no injury,” answered the lady.</p> + +<p>Another long conversation then followed between Mrs. Cobbold and +Margaret, in which the latter complained bitterly of the change she +fancied had taken place in her mistress’s behaviour towards her. The +lady denied such change had taken place, and endeavoured to convince her +servant that the alteration was in her own disposition.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII<br /><span style="font-size:70%">THE RECONCILIATION</span></a></h2> + +<p>Whether it was that Margaret’s fame had reached the village of +Brandiston, or that Mrs. Leader repented most bitterly the loss of her +assistance, or that her rents of the land and cottages began to be in +arrear and to fall off, and she herself found that poverty crept in upon +her, certain it was that something sufficiently powerful in its nature +prompted her to speak kindly to Margaret, whom she accidentally met that +very day as she was going across the Green towards Christ Church Park. +She had arrived at Ipswich with her husband, and was passing over the +Green just as Margaret with the children, all wrapped up in cloaks and +muffs, were going to see the skaters on the Round Pond in the Park.</p> + +<p>The meeting was much more cordial than could have been expected; but +Mrs. Leader was a changed woman. After the interchange of mutual +civilities, Margaret said that she should be home by four o’clock, and +if her uncle and aunt would call, she knew that her mistress would have +no objection to their coming into the house. Mrs. Leader even shook +hands with her, and promised to pay her a visit.</p> + +<p>What a wonderful change! thought Margaret, as she hastened on with the +little ones to overtake two or three of the impatient party, who were +looking behind from the Park-gate.</p> + +<p>The Park at Ipswich is a beautiful place in summer: twice a week were +its gates thrown open by the liberal proprietor of the domain to the +inhabitants of the town, who rambled along the shady chestnut walk to +its utmost bound. Many were the happy walks that infancy, delighting in +the sunny flowers of the mead, took in that lovely place; and many the +more tender and animating rambles which fond hearts and faithful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> lovers +in the days of youth enjoyed. Parents and their children breaking away +from the cares of business, delighted to stroll in holiday attire, and +repose themselves beneath the branches of those stately trees which +everywhere adorned the Park. There they heard the first notes of the +cuckoo; there they watched the green and spotted woodpecker; observed +the busy rooks; heard the nightingales, the thrushes, and the doves, and +spoke of all the innocent pleasures of nature.</p> + +<p>The spotted fallow deer crossed their path in a long line of rapid +flight, and assembled in a herd in the valley; the pheasant and the +partridge roamed about in pride and beauty; whilst the hare and the +rabbit, familiarized to the sound of children’s voices, lifted up their +long ears, or stood up upon their hind legs to gaze upon them as they +passed.</p> + +<p>In the winter, the stragglers in the Park were comparatively few, +excepting at that period when the pond was frozen over, and became the +fashionable resort for company to view the skaters; thither the young +party whom Margaret had the care of resorted, to see the dexterous +movements of Counsellor Green, or some of his majesty’s officers from +the barracks. The company that day was numerous, and the scene such as +would delight thousands, even were it in the gay metropolis; it would +have induced many of the fashionables to leave the warm, soft cushions +by the fireside, and to wrap themselves in furs, and to put on their +snow-shoes, and to enjoy the healthy, though frosty, air of Christmas.</p> + +<p>Many in the busy town of Ipswich left their labours and their cares for +a few hours’ recreation; fair ladies ventured to lean upon a brother’s +or a lover’s arm and try the slippery ice; sledges, too, were in +requisition.</p> + +<p>Though the skating was good, and all the young people enjoyed it, +Margaret’s thoughts were upon her uncle and aunt, and she was the first +to remind her young people that the old Christ Church clock had struck +four.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> + +<p>Home they went, gratified and satisfied, talking of the frightful cracks +and heavy falls, and well-contested races, which they had mightily +enjoyed; when they came into the house they gave a lively account of all +they had seen.</p> + +<p>With Mrs. Cobbold’s permission, Mr. and Mrs. Leader were invited to take +tea in the housekeeper’s room, and Margaret was allowed to have a long +talk with them.</p> + +<p>She found her uncle much more chatty than her aunt, for sorrow and +coming poverty had cast their shadows before Mrs. Leader, and +wonderfully softened the asperity of her former purse-proud disposition; +she let her husband speak of all the family troubles, and did not once +interrupt him. Margaret soon learned that all their property was +mortgaged, and for its full value. She learned that the children were +barefoot, and neglected; that it would require steady management indeed +ever to bring them again into a prosperous or a comfortable state; she +felt for them all, and not only felt, but did all she could to +ameliorate their condition. She offered advice, which was taken in good +part by the now crestfallen aunt.</p> + +<p>A strange effect had that comfortable reception in the housekeeper’s +room upon the nerves and manners of Mrs. Leader, she looked up to +Margaret as if she was a person of considerable consequence in that +family; she asked Margaret if she might also see the children; nothing +could have given Margaret greater pleasure.</p> + +<p>All in the nursery were delighted to see a visitor; and Mrs. Leader very +soon discovered that where management, cleanliness, and strict attention +are paid there will grow up order, regularity, and comfort; she stayed +some minutes with the happy family. As she returned to the housekeeper’s +room, she sighed when she said to Margaret—</p> + +<p>“I now wish I had never provoked you to leave us! I did not like to own +it, but, very soon after you were gone, I felt your loss; I hope you +will be able to come and see us in the summer, and should you ever be +tired<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> of service, and wish for a home, you will find us very altered in +our manner to you, and more grateful for your services.”</p> + +<p>Margaret could forgive all that her aunt had ever said or done to her; +she felt so happy in having been reconciled to her, that she could not +refrain from telling her so. She gave a portion of her wages for the +schooling of the children, and thanked her uncle and aunt for their kind +invitation. She even hinted that the time might come when her hopes of +settling in Brandiston might be realized, should Laud obtain his +discharge; in short, she promised to see them in summer, as she had no +doubt that she could obtain leave from her kind mistress.</p> + +<p>The day was gone, and the moon was high, and the sky was clear, and the +happy Margaret would have had them stay all night. She had received a +message to the effect that the pony might be put in the stable, and that +her uncle and aunt might sleep in the house; they prudently declined, +lest a deep snow might fall and prevent their reaching home; so off they +went, happier than they had been any day since their affectionate niece +left them, and this happiness arose from the reconciliation.</p> + +<p>It was a lucky thing for Mr. and Mrs. Leader that they went home as they +did that very night, for not long after their arrival home began that +severe winter and deep snow which formed one of the most remarkable +features in the history of the climate of England.</p> + +<p>It would be foreign to the present narrative to dwell upon the events of +that particular season, further than to refer to the great exertions +made by persons of all ranks and conditions, above actual distress, to +support the famishing poor. Houses were established in different parts +of the town of Ipswich for the public distribution of soup, coals, and +blankets, and various families agreed to furnish supplies for the +various days of the week.</p> + +<p>Margaret was now as busy in the kitchen as she had been in the nursery, +for at this time the cook of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> family returned home ill, and no one +else could be found so apt as Margaret to supply her place.</p> + +<p>It was at this memorable season that her aptitude for this situation was +discovered, which led to such a change in her condition, as future pages +will record. A servant was soon found for the nursery, who supplied her +place, and she became the active cook of the family. In such a large +domestic establishment as that of Mr. Cobbold, the cook was a person of +the utmost consequence; and although there was a regular housekeeper who +acted as an intervening link between the parlour and the kitchen, yet +Mrs. Cobbold was by no means so unacquainted with the proceedings of her +house, as to be found negligent of a due supervision over every +department.</p> + +<p>In the new place Margaret had undertaken at the earnest request of her +mistress, her active powers of benevolence were now called into +existence. The feeling manner in which she represented to her +fellow-servants the destitution of thousands around them, and the great +sin there was in the least waste; the strong necessity now became a duty +in every one to deny themselves some portion of their daily bread, that +those who were starving might have a share; made a powerful impression +upon the domestics of that establishment. At this time, though a greater +allowance was made on account of the provisions given away by this +affluent family, yet such was the economy in the kitchen, and the +honest, self-satisfactory privation exercised by the whole house, that +not the least waste was made, and the accustomed expenditure was very +little increased. The poor, however, were bountifully supplied, and +Margaret’s name was as justly praised below stairs, as, in past days, it +had been above. Little did she think that her activity, economy, and +management, which a sense of duty and charity had called into action, +would fix her in the kitchen at such an increase of wages, as, +comparatively, seemed to her like coming into a little fortune. She had +now become the head of all the domestics, from having been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> the servant +of all. She had an increase of toil, but she had a help under her. There +was dinner for the nursery, dinner for the kitchen, dinner for the +parlour, and that which is now almost obsolete, a hot supper for all the +house. But what is work to one who is strong and willing, and ready and +desirous of giving satisfaction?</p> + +<p>Time, fully occupied, passes on rapidly, and Margaret was now looked +upon with respect by the whole house. What a pity that that respect +should ever have been blighted, or that any circumstances should have +interfered with that peaceful enjoyment which she seemed at this time to +experience, and which in after years she never forgot! In leaving the +nursery, she left that frequent intercourse with her mistress, and +consequently that continued mental improvement which she had gradually +imbibed. She was not now under her immediate eye; she seldom heard that +sweet voice of approbation, pleasing beyond all expression from such a +mistress.</p> + +<p>It was one of those singular coincidences which happened in her eventful +life, that on the celebrated 1st of June, 1794, her lover, William Laud, +distinguished himself in Lord Howe’s victory over the French, and was +one of the seamen appointed to bring home a splendid prize to +Portsmouth; and that Margaret herself, on the very same day, +distinguished herself in an aquatic feat, which would have been no +disgrace to a British seaman to have performed, and which exhibited a +degree of courage and presence of mind, truly wonderful in a female.</p> + +<p>In the garden belonging to the mansion at St. Margaret’s Green was a +very deep pond, with turfed sides, which were sloping and steep, so that +the gardener had to descend to the water by a flight of six steps. +Formerly it had been a handsome square pond, with edges neatly kept, and +surrounded by alpine strawberry-beds. At the period of this tale, one +side opened into the adjoining meadow, and half of that extensive garden +was laid down to grass. To this day, the two stately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> weeping willows +may be seen dipping their pensile edges into the pond, though time has +lopped off many an arm, and somewhat curtailed them of their beauty. At +that time, when Margaret was cook at St. Margaret’s Green, these trees +were the ornaments of the exterior of the town, and to have made a +sketch from the hill, on the Woodbridge Road, without including them, +would have been to have robbed the town of Ipswich of one of its most +prominent and pleasing features of landscape beauty. They were very +lofty, though pendent, and in the month of June, might be justly styled +magnificent. Hundreds of their boughs kissed the water with their thin, +taper points. The girl who had the care of the children had been often +warned not to go near the edge of the road.</p> + +<p>On this 1st of June, 1794, Margaret had entered the garden to gather +some herbs, and had scarcely closed the gate before she heard a sudden +shriek of distress. The voices of the children struck upon her, from the +centre of the garden. She ran down the path, and there she saw the whole +group standing and screaming at the edge of the pond, and the nursemaid +completely at her wits’ end with fright. Master Henry had been running +away from his sisters, who were pursuing him down the path, and having +turned his head round to look at them, he did not perceive his danger. +His foot caught the edge of the grass border which surrounded the pond, +and he was precipitated head-foremost into the deepest part of it. In a +moment he was seen plunging and screaming for help, but all his efforts +only tended to carry him still further towards the middle of the pond: +he must inevitably have been drowned, had not Margaret at that moment +providentially entered the garden.</p> + +<p>Margaret’s astonishing presence of mind enabled her to resolve in an +instant what it was best to do, and her heroic courage caused her not to +shrink from doing it; she ordered the nurserymaid to run with all speed +to the stables for a ladder and rope, and then creeping along the +strongest arm of the weeping willow that spread<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> itself over the centre +of the pond, and going as far as she could towards the child, she +grasped a handful of those pendent branches which dipped themselves into +the water, and swinging herself by her right arm, into the pond, and +stretching out her left to the utmost, she seized the child by the +collar of his little jacket, and held him above the water until the +assistance she sent for arrived.</p> + +<p>It required both nerve and presence of mind, as well as bodily strength +to support herself in this position only for a few minutes. She +gradually drew the child nearer to her, and though in great danger +herself, her first words to him were, “Don’t be afraid, Master Henry; I +have got you! Keep still! keep still! don’t struggle!”</p> + +<p>The gardener and the coachman had by this time arrived with the ladder +and a rope, they let it down from the arm of the tree, resting the upper +stave just against its branches. The gardener descended a few steps, and +Margaret gave him the child, whilst she herself remained with the boughs +in her hand, until the boy was safe. She then requested them to throw +her the rope, that she might leave go of the willow and be drawn to the +side of the pond. She put the rope round her waist and took hold of it, +doubled, with both hands, and in this way was dragged through the water +to the bank.</p> + +<p>Thus was Margaret Catchpole, for the third time, the providential +instrument in preserving the life of a member of Mr. Cobbold’s family. +It will not, then, be a matter of surprise, that the records of her life +should have been so strictly preserved among them. If there had been any +former coolness or misunderstanding between her and any of the domestics +of the family, this event completely reconciled all differences. It was +felt by one and all, that a woman who could risk her life to save +another’s, in this manner, was worthy of their united respect. She was, +at this time, at the very summit of her reputation. A few days more +brought the news of that celebrated victory over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> the French fleet, +which added so much to the naval glory of Old England. In that victory +more than one Ipswich man partook, and returned to speak of the +engagement. One poor fellow, in particular, was sent home, desperately +wounded, who, for many years, became an object of respect, as well as +charitable attention, to many families in the town and neighbourhood. +This was poor old Jack, whose friends kept the Salutation public-house, +in Carr Street, who always went by the name of “What Cheer?” When he +first returned to his aunt, the landlady of the house, he had his senses +perfect, and could speak of the engagement with such clearness and +precision as delighted the seamen who frequented the house. He was on +board the same ship as Will Laud, and on the 1st of June they fought +side by side.</p> + +<p>Margaret heard of this, and used to go down to the public-house in +question, to hear from Jack all she could of one who was as dear to her +as her own life. He was desired by Laud to tell Margaret that he was +coming home with plenty of prize-money as soon as he could obtain his +discharge. It was this which gave her spirit such joy, and made her so +anxious to hear all she could of the battle; and, of course, of that +part which her lover took in it. Poor Jack’s intellects, however, from +the severity of his wounds, and consequent attack of fever, became +irretrievably impaired; and though he recovered his health, and became a +constant visitor at St. Margaret’s Green, yet he never could afterwards +give any connected account of the battle.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX<br /><span style="font-size:70%">THE ALTERATION</span></a></h2> + +<p>We left our heroine, in the last chapter, esteemed of every one who knew +her, and looking forward to what was to her the height of human +felicity—the reformation and return of her sailor-lover. No less true +than strange is the fact, that when we reach the highest pinnacle of +this world’s happiness, some giddiness of the head is apt to make us +fall. So, at all events, it proved with the female who gives a title to +this book. It became matter of deep concern to every member of Mr. +Cobbold’s family, to behold in her an alteration which no previous +circumstances in her life had prepared them for. There was nothing in +reason, and consistent with their own happiness, that her grateful +master and mistress would not have granted her. Any situation she wished +to attain, either for herself or for her friends, would have commanded +every exertion they could have made in her favour. She stood so high in +their opinion, and in every one’s else who knew her, that it scarcely +seemed possible for her to forfeit it. Apparently she had nothing to +complain of; no cause for dissatisfaction; no inducement whatever to +alter her disposition. Yet an alteration did take place, and one which +became evident to every one.</p> + +<p>Where the heart is unsettled, things seldom go on well. There wants that +peace and security which can alone make the discharge of our daily +duties a daily pleasure. Margaret’s early impressions of religion had +been of a very desultory kind, and here was the root of all the evil +that afterwards befell her. The want of fixed religious principles early +instilled into the young mind has caused many a good dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>position to +give way to those changes and chances which happen in life, and to +create an alteration even in the brightest prospects. In the earliest +days of this child of nature, an innate humanity of disposition had been +cultivated and increased by her attendance on a sick and afflicted +sister and an aged mother, both of whom had constantly required her aid. +Her natural qualities were, as the reader has seen, up to this moment of +the noblest cast. Still, in the absence of any strong religious +sentiment, the best dispositions are at the mercy of violent passions, +and are subject to the most dangerous caprices. The reader must have +observed that, in the midst of all her good qualities, Margaret +Catchpole evinced a pertinacity of attachment to the object of her +affections, even in his most unworthy days—an attachment which no +circumstances whatever, not even the warning of her sister’s death-bed, +could shake. She had built upon a vague hope of Laud’s alteration of +life, and his settlement in some quiet occupation. She had been +accustomed to very great disappointments and vexations; and, with a +spirit above her years, she had borne them all, and had shown an energy +of mind and activity worthy of better things. How weak are all qualities +without the support of religion! At a time when promises seemed most +fair, when an unexpected reconciliation had taken place with her uncle +and aunt Leader, when Laud’s return was daily expected, and all the +favours of a generous family were heaped upon her for her good +conduct,—at such a time an alteration of her disposition took place, +which embittered her existence for many years. She became peevish and +irritable, discontented and unhappy, moody and melancholy. She thanked +nobody for assistance, asked nothing of any one, and gave no reason to +any of her fellow-servants for this sudden alteration. Such would not +have been the case, had religion taught her, as it now does many in her +station of life, how to feel supported in prosperity as well as in +adversity. It is a trite saying, that “we seldom know when we are well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +off.” We are not content to “let well alone;" but too often foolishly +speculate upon the future, and fall into some present snare.</p> + +<p>Nothing had been heard of or from Laud, except that a sailor, who had +served with him in the glorious battle of the 1st of June, had visited +the town, and told Margaret that Laud was appointed to come home in one +of the prizes taken by Lord Howe; and that, probably, he was then at +Portsmouth, waiting until he should receive his prize-money and his +discharge. Margaret occasionally stole down in the evening to the +Salutation public-house, where the sailor was staying, to speak with +him, and to hear the naval news. She was here occasionally seen by other +sailors, who frequented the house, and learned where she lived. They +understood the bearings of her history, and some of them used to +fabricate tales on purpose to get an introduction into the kitchen at +St. Margaret’s Green, where they were sure to be welcomed and well +treated by Margaret. She was, at this time, very anxious to hear tidings +of her lover, and day after day exhibited symptoms of restlessness, +which could not long be passed by without notice. The frequency of +sailors’ visits to the kitchen began to be rumoured through the house, +and stories injurious to the reputations of the inmates were circulated +in the neighbourhood. Moreover, the housekeeper missed various articles; +and meat, and bread, and stores, began to be unaccountably diminished. +Inquiries were instituted, and it was found that Margaret had certainly +given such and such things to sailors; and without doubt, some things +were stolen.</p> + +<p>Under these circumstances, it became high time for the mistress of the +house to take notice of these things; and, in as gentle a manner as the +circumstances of the case would permit, she spoke to Margaret alone on +the subject. She regretted to hear from all quarters the alteration +which had taken place in her manner. She spoke to her most feelingly +upon the result of such a change, and with great kindness contrasted +the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> pleasure of the past with the sorrow which her late conduct +occasioned.</p> + +<p>“I cannot,” she added, “permit sailors of every kind to be incessantly +coming to the house at all hours with pretended news of Laud, and so +deceiving you by playing upon your disposition, and then robbing you and +the house. Reports of a very unpleasant nature have reached my ears +injurious to your character and that of my establishment. I cannot +submit to these things; and, though I most sincerely regard you, +Margaret, yet I must make you sensible of the danger you incur by +listening to the artful tales of these men. I strongly recommend you to +have nothing to do with them. Your own character is of much more +consequence to you than their nonsensical stories. If you wish it, I +will write for you to Portsmouth to make inquiries about Laud; and, +rather than you should be in doubt and affliction, and in any +uncertainty about him, I am sure that your master will send a +trustworthy person to search him out and ascertain the cause of his +detention.</p> + +<p>“Let me see you henceforth what you used to be—cheerful and contented, +thankful and happy, and not over-anxious about matters which in the end +will all probably come right. You have my entire forgiveness of the +past, even though you do not ask it; but let me not be imposed upon for +the future. Go, Margaret, go; and let me hear no more of these +complaints.”</p> + +<p>Margaret heard all that her mistress said in perfect silence. She +neither defended herself, nor yet thanked her mistress, as she used to +do. She seemed sullen and indifferent. She left the presence of that +kind lady and most sincere friend with scarce a curtsy, and with such a +pale, downcast countenance, as deeply distressed her benefactress. Then +was it the painful reflection occurred, that her servant’s religious +principles had been neglected; that her duty as a servant had been done +from no higher motive than that of pleasing man; and that when she had +failed to do so, and received a rebuke, her spirit would not bear it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +These reflections pressed themselves upon the kind lady’s mind, and she +resolved to do her best to correct for the future that which appeared so +deficient.</p> + +<p>Margaret returned to the kitchen unaltered, saving in feature; she was +silent, pale, and restless. She did her work mechanically, but something +appeared to be working upon her in a very strange way. She could not sit +still a moment. Sometimes she put down her work, and sat looking at the +fire, as if she was counting the coals upon it. At one time she would +rise and appear to go in search of something, without knowing what she +went for. At another time she would bite her lips and mutter something, +as if she were resolute and determined upon some point which she did not +reveal. Her fellow-servants did not lay anything to her, and took as +little notice as her strange manner would permit. They all considered +that something very unpleasant had occurred between herself and her +mistress. Some surmised that warning had been given; others that she +would leave of her own accord; but all felt sorry that one who had been +so highly esteemed should now be so perverse.</p> + +<p>One evening, in the midst of these domestic arrangements of the kitchen, +when all the servants were assembled, a knock was heard at the +back-kitchen door; the girl who opened it immediately called out, +"Another sailor wants to see you, Margaret!”</p> + +<p>Without rising from her seat, as she was accustomed to do with alacrity +upon such occasions, Margaret petulantly and passionately replied, loud +enough for the sailor to hear her through the door of the kitchen, which +now stood open, “Tell the fellow to go about his business! I have +nothing to do with, or to say to, any more sailors. Tell him to be off!”</p> + +<p>The sailor stepped one step forward, and pitched a canvas bag in at the +kitchen-door, which fell with a loud chink upon the bricks. He had heard +the words of Margaret, and was off in a moment.</p> + +<p>The reader will doubtless surmise that this was none other than Will +Laud. He it was who, at this unfor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>tunate moment, returned, with all his +prize-money, on purpose to give it to Margaret, for whom he had kept it, +intending to purchase a shop at Brandiston, or one of the neighbouring +villages, where she might like to live. The bag had a label, directed</p> + +<table class="width30" summary="address"> +<tr><td>"To Margaret Catchpole,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad4">John Cobbold’s, Esq.,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad8">Cliff, Ipswich."</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>Had this unfortunate girl been in a different mood, she might have +recognized the voice, as she once did on that memorable night when Mr. +William’s life was saved. She heard the rap, and the inquiry for her; +but knowing her mistress’s commands, and believing the visitor to be one +of those whom she had styled impostors and thieves, she had, with +considerable energy and irritability, spoken those cutting words, which +sent him away in despair.</p> + +<p>What agony now struck upon the heart of Margaret! She started at the +sound of the bag as it fell at her feet; she looked bewildered for one +moment; the truth burst upon her, and she rushed out of the house with +such a wild shriek as pierced the heart of every one who heard it. She +ran into the street. The night was growing dark; but, on the opposite +side of the green, against the garden pales, she saw a sailor standing +and looking at the house. She ran to him, seized his arm, and exclaimed, +"Laud, is it you?”</p> + +<p>He replied, “Yes—hush!”</p> + +<p>“Come in, then; come into the house; I am sure you may come in.”</p> + +<p>The sailor walked on, with Margaret by his side. He did not speak. This +Margaret naturally attributed to her late repulsive words, and she now +said, soothingly, by way of apologizing for her harshness—</p> + +<p>“I did not intend to send you away. I have lately had several sailors to +speak to me about you, and I was only too glad to hear them; but my +mistress gave orders to me this day not to have anything more to do with +them. I am sure she did not mean to send you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> away—neither did I intend +it. Come back, come back!”</p> + +<p>“Come on, come on!" said the sailor, in as soft accents as he could. +And, by this time, they had approached the old granary wall, at the back +of the park stables. Opposite to these stables was a cow-keeper’s yard, +with the dwelling inside the gates. The gates stood open: they might +rather be termed folding-doors, for, when shut, no one could see through +any part but the keyhole. The sailor turned in here with Margaret, as if +he knew the premises, and immediately closed the gates. A light glanced +from a window in the cottage, and fell upon the sailor’s face. In an +instant Margaret recognized the hated features of John Luff.</p> + +<p>The poor girl was paralysed; she was completely in the tiger’s claws; +she could not speak, her heart so swelled with agony. She thought of +this monster’s cruelty, and believed him to be capable of any desperate +deed. She recovered sufficient presence of mind, however, to be resolved +to grapple with him, should he have any evil purpose in view. She +retreated a few steps toward the gates. He suspected by this that she +had discovered who he was, and he threw off the mask in a moment.</p> + +<p>“You know who I am, I see; and I know you. I do not want to harm you; +but I want to know something from you, which, if you tell me truly, you +shall receive no injury; but, if you do not tell me, I tell you plainly +that, as you are now in my power, so you shall never escape me. You +spoke just now of Will Laud. Now, no tacking about; bear up at once, and +come to the point. Tell me where he can be found.”</p> + +<p>“I do not know,” replied Margaret.</p> + +<p>“No lies, girl! You do know. You were expecting him from Portsmouth this +very night. I knew he was coming home with his prize-money; so did you. +I don’t want his money, but I want him. I have sworn to take him, dead +or alive, and have him I will. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> have seen him: I have not. Now tell +me where he is, and I will let you go; but if you tell me not, down you +shall go headlong into the well at the bottom of this yard!”</p> + +<p>The truth burst upon the poor girl’s mind, that this fellow was watching +Laud to murder him. She was now convinced that it was Laud who came to +the back-kitchen door, and that he must have gone over the garden +palings towards the Woodbridge Road, instead of going into the street. +With a woman’s heart beating high at the danger of her lover, she +inwardly rejoiced, even at this dreadful moment, that her sudden words +had perhaps saved Laud’s life. She forgot her own loss, and her spirit +rose to reply firmly and boldly to the cowardly rascal who threatened +her—</p> + +<p>“I do not know where Laud is. I wish I did; and I would let him know +that such a villain as you are ought to be hanged.”</p> + +<p>The monster seized her, gagged her mouth with a tow-knot, and tried to +pull her away from the gate. She had seized hold of the long iron bar, +which was fastened to a low post, and fitted into a staple on the door. +She thought she heard voices outside the gates, speaking of her. Just as +the villain lifted her from the ground to fulfil his determined purpose, +she swung the iron against the door with such force, that the servants +outside were convinced something was wrong. They called, but received no +answer. They heard footsteps receding from the door, and called to +Smith, the cowkeeper, to know what was the matter. They did not receive +any immediate answer, but a light streamed under the door, and in +another moment they heard a scuffle, and Smith’s voice calling for help.</p> + +<p>With their united force they burst the gates open, and ran down the +yard. The candle was burning on the ground, and Smith prostrate beside +it. In a moment after, they heard the bucket of the well descending with +rapidity, and then a sudden splash, as if a heavy body had reached the +bottom of it.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>Smith recovered quickly from his fall, and declared he saw a +sailor-looking man, carrying a female in his arms, and he firmly +believed that she was thrown down the well. He got his lantern, and +directed the men to take down the long church ladder, which was hung up +under the roof of the cowhouse, and bring it after him. The ladder was +put down the well, and Smith descended with his lantern, and called out +that there was a woman in the well.</p> + +<p>“Unhank the bucket: tie the rope round her body, and ease her up the +ladder; we can help you to get her out so.”</p> + +<p>This was done: and when she was drawn up, the servants recognized the +features of Margaret Catchpole.</p> + +<p>Smith was quite sure the man he saw was in sailor’s dress. It was a +providential circumstance that the very act of gagging had prevented the +water getting to her lungs, and so saved her from drowning. She breathed +hard, and harder still when the gag was removed, and was very black in +the face. She had received a severe blow on the head from her fall +against the bucket, the iron of which had caught her gown, and was the +cause of its descending with her to the water. She might have had a +severer blow against the sides of the well but for this circumstance. +She was quite insensible, and in this state was carried home, where she +was laid between warm blankets, and the doctor sent for. She was quickly +bled, and was soon restored to conscious animation.</p> + +<p>As she revived, she refused to communicate anything on the subject of +the disaster; and it was thought best, at that time, not to say much to +her about it. Conjectures were much raised, and the matter was much +talked over. The bag, which was opened by her master, was found to +contain one hundred and thirty guineas in gold and silver coin. Mr. +Cobbold took charge of it, and sealed it with his own seal. From all +that could be learned, it seemed that a sailor, whom all now conjectured +to be Laud, had thrown the money in at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> door, and Margaret had +rushed out after him; that she had overtaken him; and that some violent +altercation had taken place between them, which had led to this most +extraordinary act. The whole affair seemed to be fraught with reckless +desperation. Could anything be more so than to throw such a sum of money +at a person’s foot, and then to throw that person down a well? Why do +such a deed? Was he jealous? Had he heard of the many sailors who had +lately made Margaret’s acquaintance? It might be, thought some, that he +had suddenly returned, and hearing of her conduct, had put the worst +construction upon it; and, in a desperate state, had been foolishly +generous, but too fatally jealous to hear any explanation. These ideas +passed through the minds of more than one of the family.</p> + +<p>Margaret slowly recovered from the fever which had settled in her frame, +and greatly reduced it. She kept her bed for several weeks; she kept her +tongue, too, as still and as free from communication with any one as she +possibly could under the circumstances. She did not say anything of her +own accord, even to her anxious and beloved mistress.</p> + +<p>It was soon circulated about that an atrocious attempt at murder had +been made in the parish of St. Margaret’s, and the authorities of the +town took it up, and made inquiries into the matter. Understanding that +the young female was in too weak a state to have her deposition taken, +they did not visit her, but a reward was offered for the apprehension of +the man, and his person was described by the cowkeeper.</p> + +<p>There was but one person to whom Margaret opened her lips willingly upon +the subject, and that was her old friend and medical attendant, Mr. +Stebbing. He learned from her, that it was not Laud that had thrown her +down the well, but a fellow named Luff, one of his former evil +companions. She told the doctor her belief that Laud was the person who +had unintentionally been driven away by her on that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> unfortunate night; +"And I fear,” she added, “that he will be induced by my seeming +harshness to return to his old courses. He will never forgive me—I know +he never will! Oh, that I could have had one word with him! If I could +but get well, I would try and find him. Oh, doctor, I am so anxious to +get well! Pray, help me!”</p> + +<p>“This is the plain reason, my girl, why you are so slow in recovering. I +knew you had something upon your mind that you kept back; and now that +you have told me thus much, let me speak to you in my own way. I tell +you honestly, Margaret, I never should think a man worth having who took +himself off in that kind of way. If, as you say, you refused to see a +sailor who did not give his name, the man ought to have been pleased, +rather than displeased, if he really loved you. If he was not a fool, he +would naturally think it would be the very first thing a girl with any +proper feeling would say. Take my word, Margaret, and I am somewhat more +experienced than you are, that if Laud is worth your having, he will +soon be here again. But don’t you think of running after him. If he +comes back in a few days, well; but if not, I wish I might be able to +persuade you not to think of him at all. What could induce Luff to +attempt to murder you?”</p> + +<p>“He threatened, that unless I told him where Laud was, he would throw me +down the well. I imagine that Laud having escaped from the gang of +smugglers, this villain was sworn either to be revenged upon him for +some quarrel, or else he had promised Captain Bargood, his employer, to +bring him back again. I was determined not to tell him that Laud had +been to the house, and the fellow took this desperate revenge on me. +But, thank God, his purpose is frustrated! You know Laud, doctor, as +well as I do. I can conceive that my speech took him so completely by +surprise, that, after he had been saving up all his money for me, and +had been congratulating his mind upon my joy at his change, my words +must have cut him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> to the quick, and have driven him away in +desperation.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could think so, Margaret; but my idea is, that if he had been +the altered man you picture him, he would never have conducted himself +in that way. I tell you plainly, that I should be much more apt to think +he liked somebody else better than you; and that he threw down the money +merely because his conscience told him he had wronged you; and made him +feel that he ought to make you some recompense. If he does not come back +in a few days, I shall be confirmed in this opinion.”</p> + +<p>The poor girl had never looked at the matter in this light. She felt a +strange sensation creeping over her mind, and, in the weak state she +then was in, she had a superstitious dread of her sister’s last +words—"Margaret, you will never marry William Laud.” The words seemed +to tingle in her ears, and to come, at this moment, with redoubled +force; she shook her head, sighed, and thanked the doctor for his good +advice.</p> + +<p>“I shall explain these matters to your mistress, Margaret,” said Mr. +Stebbing. “It will remove all erroneous ideas, and may spare you some +pain and trouble. You must rouse yourself; the magistrates are daily +asking me about you; I have told them that you have too virulent a fever +upon you at present to make it safe for them to see you; and, depend +upon it, they will not be over-anxious to run any risk.”</p> + +<p>“Pray, sir, could not you take down what I have said, as well as having +any other person to do it?”</p> + +<p>“If I do, Margaret, it must be read to you before two justices of the +peace, and you will have to swear to it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, so it must be then.”</p> + +<p>And the good doctor left his patient, and gladly explained the exact +state of the case to her mistress.</p> + +<p>It was not very difficult for that lady to form her own conclusions now. +She was of Margaret’s opinion, that Laud’s first step would be to rejoin +the smugglers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> She thought that he would become a more desperate +character than ever. Instability of purpose was always Laud’s failing. +When Margaret got about again, her mistress, having considered all the +circumstances, thought it best that she should go home to her parent’s +roof for a time. “As you are so much better,” said she to her one day, +"and have been so much shaken lately, and your deposition has been taken +before the magistrates, I would strongly recommend a little change for +the benefit of your health. The doctor thinks it advisable. You can go +and stay a while with your uncle and aunt Leader, or you can go and see +your father and younger brother. You may go when you please. Remember +that there are one hundred and thirty guineas in your master’s hands, to +be appropriated to your use. Your father or your uncle may wish to +consult us for your benefit. We shall be happy to see them for such +purpose at any time. If you wish to enter into any business, you shall +have our best advice and assistance. I think change will do you good. If +you do not settle in any way for yourself, and still prefer service, we +shall be glad to receive you amongst us again when you have recruited +your health and spirits.”</p> + +<p>“I do not,” Margaret replied, “want anything beyond my wages. I do not +consider that money my own, and shall never appropriate any of it to my +own use. It belongs to Will Laud. I feel very much obliged to both my +master and yourself for the interest you have always taken in me, and +for your offer of future assistance. I will consult with my friends. I +certainly do not feel so happy as I used to do.”</p> + +<p>Her kind mistress did not choose to remind her of the great alteration +of her temper and conduct of late, because she did not wish to revive +old grievances. And, as she was about to leave for a time, with a +possibility of some chance of settlement without service, she let the +matter rest.</p> + +<p>Margaret, shortly after this conversation, took leave of as good a +mistress as a servant ever had.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> If she did not feel quite the warmth of +attachment to her that she had formerly done, the fault lay in herself, +not in that benevolent lady, who at that time and ever after, manifested +for her the sincerest kindness.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX<br /><span style="font-size:70%">CHANGE OF SCENE AND CHANGE OF PLACE</span></a></h2> + +<p>Soon after Margaret’s recovery, and the taking of her deposition before +Colonel Neale, Mr. Gibson, and Mr. Seekamp, justices of the peace, she +took leave of the affectionate friends she had gained in the family at +St. Margaret’s Green. She had permission to go and stay as long as she +felt necessary for the recruiting of her spirits, and accordingly she +went to Nacton. She found her aged father and her younger brother living +in the same cottage, and in better work and condition than when she had +left them. They gladly welcomed her, and she spent a peaceful quiet time +with them, though painful thoughts intruded themselves upon her mind. +Old and joyful, as well as joyless, associations crowded upon her; she +thought of her career of fortune and misfortune, with many a deep and +painful sigh. Oh! had religious instruction then fortified that mind as +it did years afterwards, what comfort might it not have gained even in +this moment of adversity—what pain might it not have turned aside! Her +father soon perceived that disappointment was gnawing at Margaret’s +heart, the more keenly, as it found stronger food to feed upon, from the +past revival of warm hopes, now severely blighted. The old man sought +her confidence, and found that, by conversation with her, he lightened +the heaviness of her load.</p> + +<p>Margaret told her father the exact state of her mind, and did not +conceal anything from him.</p> + +<p>“I much fear,” said the old man, “that he has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> returned to the coast +again, and perhaps to his former vicious companions. Not that I have +heard anything of him; but I know that the coastguard are as active as +they ever were in the discharge of their desperate duty. I cannot think +of any other method of ascertaining the fact, than by sending your +brother Edward down to the coast for a time, and let him learn what he +can. He is a very sharp young fellow, and I can tell you, Margaret, that +for activity of head, heart, and limb, not one of my boys ever exceeded +him.”</p> + +<p>“I think the scheme might answer,” replied Margaret: “at all events, it +is worth trying. I shall feel more satisfied, let the result be what it +may. I will give him part of my wages, so that he shall lose nothing by +the trip.”</p> + +<p>In the evening the plan was proposed to the young man, who readily +entered into his sister’s views upon the subject. He would ask his +master for a week or ten days, or a fortnight, if required.</p> + +<p>Margaret gave him strict charge to explain to Will Laud the circumstance +of her having so hastily uttered those words which had given him such +offence; that it was her mistress’s command that she should see no more +sailors. “Be cautious,” she added; “avoid that villain Luff; for in his +clutches you would be no more than a lamb beneath a tiger’s paw. You +must visit all the different places along the coast from Felixstowe to +Aldeburgh. If any of the coastguard speak to you, tell them honestly who +you are; and if you see young Edward Barry, you may tell him all the +truth. He will help you, as he promised to befriend me, should I ever +require his aid. If any private opportunity of speaking to Laud should +occur, tell him his money is all safe, and shall be employed according +to his directions. I consider it his property, though directed to me. +Go, Edward. I shall spend many a restless hour until you return.”</p> + +<p>Edward Catchpole was soon on his road to Felixstowe. His first attempt +was to find out the old ferryman, Laud’s father, and ascertain if he +knew anything of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> him. But he learned that the old man had quietly +departed this life, soon after receiving the news of his son’s +engagement with the French, in Lord Howe’s victory of the 1st of June. +The only thing like a footmark of Laud was in the report given by some +of the neighbours, that a sailor had been there some weeks ago, making +inquiries about the old ferryman; who, ascertaining, however, that he +was dead, went away, and no one heard anything more of him.</p> + +<p>Edward next went on from Felixstowe to Bawdsey Ferry, and took up his +quarters at the Sun Inn. Here he seemed as one come to the seaside for +health; for he was to be seen wandering along the shore, and talking +whenever he could with the sailors. But he could gain no tidings, +directly or indirectly, of the person he sought. He shifted his position +from the Sun to the Old Beach House, at the mouth of the river Alde, now +known by the name of the Life-Boat public-house, then kept by Jacob +Merrells, a pilot.</p> + +<p>Great preparations were then making for building forts and Martello +towers along the coast, to oppose any invasion. Numbers of surveyors, +and workmen in the employ of Government, frequented the Beach House. The +conversation sometimes turned upon smuggling, and young Catchpole’s +heart beat high at such moments, with the hope of some clue to Laud. +Nothing, however, could he elicit, except that, as so many Government +men were about at that time, the smugglers were not likely to be +carrying on a very brisk trade. Still it <i>was</i> carried on, and Captain +Bargood was, it was said, as busy as ever.</p> + +<p>He next visited Boyton and Sudbourn, and Orford. He lodged at the +Mariner’s Compass, then kept by an old weather-beaten sailor, who often +put him across from the quay on the banks of the Alde, to the North +Vere; and here he used to spend so many hours, that the coastguard, who +kept a watch upon his movements, suspected that his countryman’s dress +was only a ruse to hide some sinister intention. They observed, however, +that he did not avoid them, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> rather sought opportunity for their +acquaintance. A more dreary place than this North Vere is scarcely to be +found on all the coast of Great Britain. It is a mass of shingle nearly +twenty miles long, in some places nearly a mile broad, in others, only a +few hundred yards. This wall of pebbles separates the river Alde from +the ocean. The bank reaches from Hollesley Bay to Aldeburgh. The sea and +the river are very deep along the shelving banks on either side.</p> + +<p>Thousands upon thousands of sea-birds build, or rather lay their eggs, +upon this desolate bed of shingle. A few wild, straggling plants of +seakale, and very long, thin, sickly spires of grass, occasionally shoot +up through the stones; but there is no other vegetation, except here and +there in some few hollows in this desert of stones, where a little clay, +mixed with the sea-fowl dung, formed a green patch. These spots used to +be much frequented by smugglers, which, from their sunken situations, +used to hide both them and their goods from view. Nothing prominent can +be seen for miles round this coast, except the Orford lights, which +stand conspicuous enough about midway between Hollesley and Aldeburgh.</p> + +<p>The poor fellows who acted as preventive-service men in the coastguard +had no sinecure in this dreadful situation. The sun burnt them by day, +and the wind, from whatever quarter it blew, and especially in the +winter nights, was cutting and cold; and from the exposure between two +waters, the sea and the river, it roared like the discharge of +batteries. In some of the hollows these poor men used to construct huts +of such rude materials as came to hand; old pieces of wrecks, or +broken-up boats, which they covered with seaweed, collected after a +storm. These served to break the east winds which blew over the German +Ocean, in their terrible night-watches, which they were forced to keep +pretty constantly, as they were watched, though they were watchers. Many +were the desperate struggles upon this wild beach between these brave +men and the smugglers, in which hard fighting, and too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> often +death-blows, told the desperate nature of the service.</p> + +<p>“Well, my man, what brings you upon this coast?” said one of the +officers to Edward Catchpole, as he was sauntering lazily along the +seaside.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” replied Edward, “I have got a holiday, and I wish to spend a day +or two by the seaside.”</p> + +<p>“A day or two! Why you have been here six days, and you have been +staying at Hollesley, and Boyton, and Felixstowe. Come, come, young man, +you are up to some work which may get you into trouble. You had better +take my advice, and sheer off.”</p> + +<p>“I have no unlawful calling; if I had, I might deserve your scrutiny. +You think, perhaps, that I am connected with smugglers, and am here for +the purpose of giving them information. I am, however, much more +desirous of receiving than of giving information. I never saw a +smuggler’s boat in my life. You suspect me, I see; but what of?—tell +me.”</p> + +<p>“I ought to be suspicious of the truth of what you tell me. But I never +saw you before, and your looks do not betray deceit.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sure you never saw me before? Perhaps you may be mistaken. I +have seen you before to-day, and have spoken to you before this day. I +know you, if you do not know me.”</p> + +<p>“I certainly do not know you, and assuredly have never spoken to you +till now. My memory is pretty accurate as to persons and faces, yet +neither the one nor the other are familiar to me in you.”</p> + +<p>“Your face is familiar to me. I never saw you more than twice, and then +you spoke to me, and very kindly too.”</p> + +<p>“You certainly puzzle me. What is your name, and whence do you come?”</p> + +<p>“You are Edward Barry, and I am Edward Catchpole. Do you remember the +lad that drove his sister down to the boat-house at Bawdsey?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I remember you now, though you are greatly changed. But what +brings you here?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> + +<p>“That which keeps you here night and day! I am upon the look-out for the +smugglers.”</p> + +<p>“You may look a long time if you are looking for Will Laud. Do you not +know that he is in the British navy?”</p> + +<p>“I knew that he was so, but I do not know that he is. My sister told me +if I met you to make you acquainted with her trials, and to ask your +assistance.”</p> + +<p>Here the young man told him the events which had taken place, and her +fears that Laud had returned to his old career.</p> + +<p>“I do not think he has. His old companions are as active as ever; but I +heard that he had split with them, and that, when he was taken by the +pressgang, he was quarrelling with Luff, who, as I understood, escaped, +and swore to finish his work upon Laud whenever he could catch him. +There is not a man among us but would run any risk to deliver that +fellow up to justice. We have had orders from Government to secure him +if we can, and the reward is extended to us. He is a daring wretch, and +knowing, as he must do, our determination to take him, it is my +conviction that he will never be taken alive. But, if you wish to see a +bit of sharp work, we have got information that he is now off this +coast, preparing to land a cargo on the Vere. If you have a mind to lend +a hand to take him, you can be of great service to us, without running +much danger in work that you are not accustomed to.”</p> + +<p>“That I will do gladly.”</p> + +<p>“Well, now listen. You cannot walk five hundred yards along the brow of +the beach without meeting one of my men. They are all upon the shore in +readiness, and have had their eyes upon you, though you have not seen +them. Look along the line of the coast against the upper ridge of +shingle at the spring-tide mark,—you see nothing. If you walk along +that line five hundred yards from where you stand, you will see a head +pop up from the shingle and salute you. They are placed there, and have +buried themselves in the shingle on purpose to watch your motions. You +are suspected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> to be the person appointed to hoist a white flag, +opposite Havergate Island, as a signal that the boat may come ashore. I +implicitly believe what you have told me of yourself, and, if you will +assist me, I will in return render you all the assistance I can in +search of your object.”</p> + +<p>“I will do anything you appoint me to do within my power.”</p> + +<p>“I ask nothing of you, but what you can easily perform. Remember the +watchword which I now give you. It is ‘King George for ever,’ an +expression you must use if any of my men salute you. What I want you to +do is, to pass along the whole line in the direction of the spring-tide +mark, which is the highest point that the tide reaches. Every five +hundred yards you will find yourself spoken to by one of my men, who +will say, ‘Who goes there?’ Do you reply, ‘King George for ever!’ They +will say ‘Hurrah! pass on.’ You will find fourteen men, which will tell +you that four miles of this coast is strictly guarded to-night. Pass +along the whole line; but note when you come to the seventh man, and lay +this pole, and white flag which is bound to it, about twenty yards on +this side of him. You will observe that, at that point, a tall poplar +tree in Sudbourn Grove, on the horizon, will be in a direct line with +you and the Shepherd’s Cottage on Havergate Island. Leave the flag-pole +there until you return from going the whole line. Take this keg over +your shoulder, and replenish every man’s can as you pass along, for they +will have sharp work to-night, and it is cold work lying in suspense. As +you come back from the line, unfurl the flag, and fix the staff strongly +in the ground. The wind blows off-shore, and will soon carry it +streaming outward. It will then be your duty to take up your position at +a respectful distance from the spot, and see that no one from the land +removes the flag. I strongly suspect that the old shepherd, who lives in +the Red Cottage on Havergate Island, is the man who will come to remove +it if he can. If you can secure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> him without our aid, so much the +better; but if not, just put your lips to this whistle which I give you, +and assistance will be close at hand. At all events, the old fellow must +be secured, and carried back to his cottage, and be bound to his bed. +And you must remain with him until night draws on. Then put the old +man’s light, an oil lamp, which you will find standing under the bed, +into the little window looking towards the sea, which is at the +gable-end to the east.</p> + +<p>“Then you must come over again with his boat, and mind and shove her the +full length of her moorings into the water before you fix her anchor on +the shore, or the falling tide will leave her high and dry. Then return +to the place, where you can bury yourself in the shingle. If I mistake +not, as soon as the moon is high, you will see a boat come ashore with a +cargo. There is a dell not far off the flag, to which they will probably +carry all their tubs. You must not be seen by them. You will easily see +how my men manage to hide themselves. Now be very particular in noting +what I tell you, or the lives of many may be forfeited. After the men +have landed their goods, two of them will go across to the river, to see +if the shepherd’s boat is moored ready for them. When they come back, +you will hear them say ‘Up! all’s right!’ They will then each take up +his burden, and proceed with it to the river’s side. I expect there will +be ten or twelve of them. As soon as they are all fairly out of the +dell, do you give a good loud long whistle. By this time, my men, who +will have seen the boat coming ashore, will be getting on their hands +and knees close up to you. The smugglers will throw down their loads, +and hasten to their boat; we shall be ready to receive them. But, +whatever you do, lie still, and you will be out of danger; and if you +have a mind to see what a battle is, you will have a good view of it. I +do not ask you to risk your life, you will probably see some of us +killed, and should I be among the number, just remember, that in the +bottom of my cartridge-box there is a letter to my sister, which I will +get you to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> deliver. Do you think you fully understand me? and are you +now willing to help us? It is singular that I should find in you the +very instrument we wanted. I was about to have you secured, and to +perform the part myself; but ten to one if the old shepherd saw me, but +he would smell powder, and keep at home; but, seeing you a country +youth, he will not mind you, but will come to the scratch. You see how +much depends upon your courage.”</p> + +<p>Young Edward Catchpole had long made up his mind, notwithstanding all +the danger, to run any risk sooner than give up the enterprise; like his +sister he possessed great personal courage, and was quick, intelligent, +and active. He also looked upon the cause as a good one; it was for his +king and country, and for a sister whom he loved. He had given up the +idea of meeting with Laud, and thought only of securing the vile +assassin whose crimes had reached such an enormous pitch. He entered +upon his commission immediately, pursued his career along the high-water +mark of the beach, and, true enough, about every five hundred yards, a +head popped up from the shingle, with, “Who goes there?” “King George +for ever!" was the answer; and “That’s right, my hearty, we’ll drink his +health if you please,” was the hint for the young man to replenish the +brave sailor’s can. He noted the seventh man; there he left the flag and +staff, and proceeded on the whole length of the line. As he returned he +placed the pole firmly into the deep shingle, and unfurled the white +sheet, which soon formed a most conspicuous streamer in the air. He then +quietly secreted himself in the manner he had been shown by one of the +men, by working his body into the shingle, and letting the larger stones +fall over him until he was completely covered, save his head. It was not +long before a sail, which had been seen in the distance, now kept +standing off and on in the offing. But now came his own work.</p> + +<p>About an hour after the flag had been unfurled, Edward plainly heard the +bleating of sheep, and saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> a shepherd driving a score of sheep +leisurely along towards the flag, apparently watching his sheep cropping +the scant herbage of the North Vere. As he came whistling on, and +approached the staff, looking cautiously around him, Edward thought it +was time to commence proceedings, especially as the old man laid hold of +the flagstaff to unship it. He jumped up, and called to the shepherd,—</p> + +<p>“I say, old boy, let that bell wether of mine alone, will you?”</p> + +<p>The shepherd started, and left the staff, and approached the young man.</p> + +<p>“What do you put that flag there for, young man?”</p> + +<p>“Because such are my orders.”</p> + +<p>“But suppose I wish to have that flag for a sheet for my bed to-night, +who shall prevent it?”</p> + +<p>“I will.”</p> + +<p>“Why, I could lick half a dozen such fellows as you, with one arm.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe so—but come, now, let’s have a fair trial of strength. Lay down +your crook between us, and see if you or I can pull the other over it. +If you succeed, then take the flag. If I, then you must take yourself +off how you can.”</p> + +<p>“Done,” said the shepherd—"it shall be a bargain;" and he threw his +crook down on the ground. “Now for it, young man.”</p> + +<p>Accordingly, they approached each other. Young Edward saw that he had a +formidable antagonist to contend with, a brawny, sinewy frame, full of +compact strength, and more than an equal match for his youth; but he +resolved not to give the whistle, if he could overcome the man any how +by himself.</p> + +<p>“Stop,” said Edward; “you have laid the crook so as to give yourself the +upper hand: that is not fair. Lay it down from sea to river, so that we +both have the same chance in the slant. I’ll show you what I mean.”</p> + +<p>And the young man showed him in a moment what he meant; for, taking up +the crook, and stooping down to place it as he had said, with a +shepherd’s dexterity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> (for the reader will remember that the youth was +also a shepherd) he swung it round the ankle of the old man, and at the +same instant gave it such a jerk, as pitched him backwards upon his +head, which came with such violence upon the stones, that he was +completely stunned. Edward was for a moment fearful that he was dead; +but conjecturing, very wisely, that he might revive, he took out of his +wallet the old man’s sheep-cords (strong thongs which shepherds use when +they dress their sheep, or such as sheep-shearers use when they clip +them), and, without more ado, he tied his hands and legs together behind +him, so that he was completely pinioned.</p> + +<p>It was well that young Catchpole had taken this advantage and +precaution; for, upon searching the inner pocket of the wallet, he found +a brace of pistols, primed and loaded, which would have made the contest +very uneven. As the old man shortly began to revive, he called out most +lustily for help.</p> + +<p>“Hold your tongue,” said Edward, “or I will shoot you dead with your own +pistols! Lie still, and no one will hurt you. What should an honest man, +in your calling, do with such weapons as these?”</p> + +<p>The old fellow was soon convinced that he had to deal with as good a +hand as his own; and one as expert at catching a ram, too. His arms and +legs were tied in such a scientific manner, as convinced him that the +young man was a shepherd. He thought it best, therefore, to bear his +present condition silently.</p> + +<p>“Come along, old boy,” said the youth, as he stuck the shepherd’s crook +under the cords, and began dragging him along towards his boat; “I’ll +ease you down to the river.”</p> + +<p>“Take care you are not eased down yourself,” said the old man. “I have +friends, who will give you your deserts before long, and ease me of +these clutches.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what you deserve, old man; and what, if the coastguard +suffer to-night, you will receive. You deserve to be thrown into the +river as you are; and if I have many words with you, and you refuse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> to +give me a plain direction and answer to whatever question I put to you, +you may depend upon it I will do it myself; and that will soon settle +all disputes between us. You have had in your wallet, pistols; your +crook would make a flagstaff; and I find, upon dragging you along, that, +as your jacket buttons give way, you have half a sheet round your body. +Tell me, when did you intend to give the smugglers the signal? It will +do you no good to tell me a lie. You have seen enough to be convinced I +understand what you are. You had better tell me the truth at once, or a +cold salt-water bath will compel you to do so.”</p> + +<p>“Not to-night!—not to-night!”</p> + +<p>“Why not to-night?”</p> + +<p>“Because the coastguard are upon the watch.”</p> + +<p>As they proceeded on their way, Edward asked the old man, “Do you expect +Captains Laud or Luff to-night? You may as well tell me; for you must be +pretty well convinced, by this time, that I know what is going on.”</p> + +<p>“Well—I expect Captain Luff. Laud is dead.”</p> + +<p>The young man fairly dropped the crook, as he repeated Maud’s +words—"Laud is dead! Laud is dead!—How do you know that?”</p> + +<p>“If you will unbind me, I will tell you all about it.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I may, when you tell me how and where he died, and show me what +proof you have of his death.”</p> + +<p>“Will you unbind me then?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; when I think you have been bound long enough.”</p> + +<p>“These thongs cut me sore.”</p> + +<p>“How can that be? they are too broad to cut; and if you do not attempt +to draw your hands asunder, you know, as well as I do, that the knot is +tied so that they cannot hurt you. I see, by your keeping your hands +close together, that they do not hurt you.”</p> + +<p>They had now arrived at the river’s side, where a large ferry-boat, such +as is used to carry stock over from the mainland to the island, was +moored against the shore. Edward lifted the old man into the +broad-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>bottomed craft, and laying him down upon the boards, pulled up +the anchor, and shoved off towards the island. The old man soon +perceived that Edward was no sailor, by the manner in which he managed, +or rather mismanaged the boat; and truly this was the hardest work the +young man had yet to perform. He had been so taken up with the thought +of doing everything he was commissioned to do, and in his pride so +determined to do it all himself, without help, that he had overlooked +his greatest difficulty, and forgot that he should want assistance to +row the boat. He still did not use his whistle; but, with very great +exertion, and very awkward management, contrived to bring the boat to +the island, and to shove her along the side of the marsh wall, to a +creek, close by the shepherd’s house. He then lifted the old man out of +the boat, and dragged him up the mud wall, and laid him down at his +cottage door. The door was locked; and, in the scuffle, the key of it +had fallen out of the old man’s pocket; and Edward was obliged to make +his way in at a low window behind the house; when, having forced back +the bolt, he pulled the old man in, and lifted him on to a bed, which +was in the room adjoining, and took a seat by his side.</p> + +<p>“I’m both hungry and thirsty after all my exertions; have you any +refreshment of any kind in this comfortable dwelling?”</p> + +<p>“You will find plenty in the closet by the fireplace. I wish I could eat +and drink with you.”</p> + +<p>“So you may, and I will feed you as if you were my cosset lamb.”</p> + +<p>He soon found that the shepherd’s cottage contained sufficient to +recruit the spirits of any man whose stomach was not too proud for +wholesome food. There was a slice of cold boiled bacon, and bread and +cheese in plenty. There was brandy, too, but very bad water; and it +required something stronger than tea to take off the brackish taste; +brandy alone could make it palatable for man. The cattle sometimes +suffered by drinking it. The young shepherd fed the old one,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> whose +muscular limbs were now as powerless as an infant’s; not from second +childhood, but from the dexterity with which they were bound together. +There was something of kindness in the young man’s manner, though he was +justified, in self-defence, to take the advantage he had done.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said he, “tell me how you know Captain Laud is dead?”</p> + +<p>“Captain Luff told me so.”</p> + +<p>“And is that all you know of it? Have you no other proof?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I have the captain’s watch, which Luff gave to me, and the case of +it has his true-love’s name engraved in the inside. The watch is in the +old plum-tree box, in the cupboard.”</p> + +<p>The young man eagerly examined the spot. He found the box, and in it the +watch, with both names engraved on the inside of the case, shining as +bright, and the engraving as sharp, as if it had been executed only that +very day. “William Laud and Margaret Catchpole,” round the interior +circumference, and “June 1st, 1794,” with a wreath of victory +surrounding it, in the centre.</p> + +<p>“All this is correct, as you say; but how did he die?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I will tell you all I know. Captain Luff (if you do not know him, +I do) is a most desperate fellow; a price is set upon his head, dead or +alive, so that it be but taken. Well, he murdered the poor girl whose +name is written in the watch; and I firmly believe that he murdered +Captain Laud too! Towards the close of the last year I was upon Sudbourn +Heath, keeping my sheep, and who should I meet but Captain Luff, who +accosted me with this question:—</p> + +<p>“‘Have you seen my young commander, Captain Laud, pass this way?’</p> + +<p>“Well, it was a curious question, and quite natural too; for about six +o’clock that very morning, as I was taking my sheep out of the fold, who +should pass by me but the gallant young fellow whom he inquired after?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +Singularly enough he asked after Luff, and whether I knew if he was upon +the coast. I told him that I had not had any signals lately; but that +some of the crew were ashore, and were staying at the Mariner’s Compass, +at Orford. Well, I told Luff the same as I now tell you; and he no +sooner received the intelligence, than with all the eagerness of a +blood-hound when he touches upon the scent of his victim, he was off for +Orford in a moment. Well, I thought this was all for old acquaintance’ +sake, or for business; so I rather rejoiced in the adventure. That very +night I had made an appointment to take some game; and as I went up the +Gap Lane, leading to the Heath, I heard angry words, and soon found the +two captains at variance. I had no wish, as you may suppose, to +interfere with their strife, so I quietly laid myself up in the ferns. +It was a dreadful sound to hear the thunder of those two men’s voices. +How they cursed each other! At length I heard the report of two pistols, +and one of the balls passed within a yard of my head, but as for blows, +I could not count them. They fought each other like two bull-dogs, I +should say for near an hour, till I heard the snap and jingle of a +broken sword, and then one of them fled. I found the broken part of the +blade next morning close to the spot. It was red with blood; and the +marks of feet in the sand were as numerous as if twenty men had been +contending. I found drops of blood sunk into the sand all the way down +the lane, until you come to the marshes: here I lost the track. I have +seen no more of Laud since. But what makes me think that he was killed +by Luff on that night is the after-behaviour of the captain. About two +months after this occurrence I received a signal from the North Vere; +and who should it be but Luff. Well, he came home to my cottage, and as +we sat together I said, by way of a sounder, ‘Where’s Captain Laud?’</p> + +<p>“‘What makes you ask that question?’ says he, hastily and fiercely. +‘Have you any particular reason for asking me after him? Speak out at +once,’ says<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> he,—’ speak out; have you heard anything about him?’</p> + +<p>“The terrific glare of the fiend’s eye fell upon me so cruelly that I +dared not tell him I had witnessed the fight, so I said, ‘I have not +seen the captain for so long a time, that I did not know where he was.’</p> + +<p>“‘Ho! ho! that’s it, is it?’ says he. ‘Have you seen him since the +morning you fed your sheep on Sudbourn Heath?’</p> + +<p>“‘No,’ says I; ‘he was then anxious to see you. Did you find him?’</p> + +<p>“‘Yes, I did; and I have reason to think he was lost at sea that very +night; for he agreed to come on board, and we have seen nothing more of +him, nor two of our crew, since that very time. Two of my men were in +the river boat, but I have seen nothing of them since. They were to have +joined the crew off the head of the North Vere, but we never saw them +again.’</p> + +<p>“‘That’s very odd,’ says I; ‘but how did you join the crew?’</p> + +<p>“‘I got a cast down the river in Master Mannell’s boat, the old +fisherman of Boyton.’</p> + +<p>“Then, after a pause,</p> + +<p>“‘Here, Jim,’ says he, ‘I’ll make you a present of poor Will’s watch. I +do not like to wear it; it grieves me when I look at it. We used to be +such friends.’</p> + +<p>“Now I thought this very strange, and it confirmed me in the opinion +that his conscience would not let him rest. I took the watch, and you +have now got it in your hand.”</p> + +<p>“What shall I give you for this watch?” said Edward.</p> + +<p>“What you like; for ever since I have had it, it has appeared to me as +if I was an accomplice in Captain Laud’s murder.”</p> + +<p>“I will give you half a guinea.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it is yours.”</p> + +<p>“I will put the money into the box in the cupboard. Time now wears away. +What are all these pieces of wood for?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> + +<p>“They are tholes for the boat, when the smugglers use it.”</p> + +<p>“With your permission I will take them with me. Have you any oars for +them also?”</p> + +<p>“No! the smugglers bring their own oars.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I must be moving; and now since you have told me the truth, and I +have every reason to thank you, I will candidly tell you who I am: I am +Margaret Catchpole’s brother.”</p> + +<p>“You are a shepherd, then?”</p> + +<p>“I am a shepherd.”</p> + +<p>“I was sure of it by the manner in which you used these thongs. May I +ask, is your sister dead?”</p> + +<p>“She is not dead. How many men do you expect from the lugger when they +land?”</p> + +<p>“Ten, with the captain.”</p> + +<p>“Well, lie you still now. I must, for the sake of fulfilling the orders +of my commander, fasten your cords to the bedstead, or I may be blamed. +So: that will do. Now, should the captain himself come to see you, he +will be convinced that the foul play was not your part; and if he does +not come to-night, I will. But time presses, and I must do my duty. +Where is your lamp?”</p> + +<p>“I see by your question,” said the old man, “that all is discovered. You +want the lamp to put in the window upstairs; you will find it under the +bed.”</p> + +<p>There it was, and was soon lighted and put in its proper place: a joyful +signal of success to the brave and patient coastguard, and a fatal lure +to the desperadoes on board the smuggler.</p> + +<p>“Now then, old friend, good-bye,” said Edward. “If success attend our +scheme you and I may be better acquainted; you may be glad that you have +told me all the truth. Farewell.”</p> + +<p>The youth was soon on board the ferry-boat; and with much labour brought +her to the same spot where he had before unmoored her. The tide had +fallen some feet, and was near its last ebb, so that he very wisely drew +her up as high as he could on to the shore, con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>cluding that if he +anchored her in the water when the tide flowed again, which it would +soon do, it would cover the anchor on the shore. He drew her up far +enough just to place her cable’s end at high-water mark; and having put +the tholes in their proper places, he then walked across to the white +flag. Just before he passed the dell, who should lift up his head but +young Barry!</p> + +<p>“I began to think our plan had not succeeded. Is all right?”</p> + +<p>“All is as you could wish it, and more; but I will tell you all another +time.”</p> + +<p>“We can see the lugger,” said young Barry, “standing off and on: our +white flag is successful. You must go to the right, so as to lay +yourself in such a position as to command a view of this little dell and +the river. Bring yourself to anchor full a hundred yards from this hole, +for I suspect the fight will be here; keep your head below the ocean +mark when you give the signal, or a few bullets may whistle about your +ears.”</p> + +<p>Only those who have had anything to do with the preventive service can +tell the dangers and difficulties which the poor fellows who defend our +trade have to encounter; how much toil and anxiety, and how seldom +sufficient honour or reward do such men gain in discharging their +onerous duty. It is a life of feverish vexation. Fancy fourteen men +collected and stationed along four miles of coast the whole day, buried +in the pebbles, and waiting on a cold night for the approach of the +smuggler. They all saw the vessel reconnoitring and sailing about the +offing: the least want of circumspection on their part would thwart the +scheme which up to this moment promised success. Even the men accustomed +to this kind of work shook with the anxiety of suspense; but what must +have been the sensations of the young landsman who had to give the +signal for the onset, in which more than one might fall? To say that he +did not suffer severely, enough almost to make him wish himself at home, +would not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> be true; the thought, however, that he might be instrumental +in bringing the villain Luff to justice for all his crimes, and the +singular manner in which he had discovered his treachery to Laud, made +the young man some amends for the truly painful task he had undertaken.</p> + +<p>Night now began to draw on, and the sea-birds left off their screaming; +the tern and the dottrell hastened to their resting-places; and the last +of all the feathered sea-shore tribe, the one which goes to roost the +latest, the grey curlew, bent his rapid wing toward Havergate Island, +and gave a mournful note as he flapped over the head of the young +watchman. As the moon arose the wind began to blow a little fresh, and +the ocean to roar upon the beach. The smugglers rejoiced at this, as it +would enable them to land their cargo with less chance of being heard. +The flag still streamed and flapped in the wind; the light shone like a +star in the shepherd’s cot; and the time drew near for the contest.</p> + +<p>Not a sound could be now heard save that of the wind. The vessel, +however, might be seen in the moonlight, approaching the shore; and now +a heavy eight-oared boat was seen to leave her: she was heavily laden, +even to the gunwale. The boat lurched through the breakers like a log. +On she came, with her helmsman, John Luff, who laid her broadside on to +the shore. Now for an anxious moment. Not a word was spoken. The wind +preventing any sound along the shore, nothing could be heard even of the +grounding of the boat’s keel upon the beach. Dark figures of men were +seen getting out of the boat. They were expert sailors, up to their +work; as the sea heaved the boat up, they dragged her higher on the +shore, until they could more conveniently unload her. This was done as +expeditiously as possible; each man carried a sack heavily laden. They +went to the very spot that Barry had named, deposited their load, and +again returned to their boat. Twice they performed this work; and now +the two last men, carrying the eight oars, brought up the rear. The +eight quietly seated themselves on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> the sacks, whilst the other two went +forward with the oars; they returned, and, as young Edward concluded, +must have said, “All’s right.”</p> + +<p>By this time the coastguard were drawing their lines closer to the spot, +each man taking up his brother, or calling on him as he passed him, +until the whole fourteen were within the space of ten yards from the +flag; breathless, on their knees did they await the shrill whistle +which, like the trumpet’s sound, was to give the word for the charge.</p> + +<p>Young Catchpole saw the smugglers emerge from the dell, with each man +his sack upon his shoulder; for an instant he thought he ought to wait +until they came the second time, but as his orders did not say so, and +he judged that if they once stowed away half their cargo they would make +quickly for the river, he deemed it best to give the signal at once; so +drawing in his breath, he gave the whistle such a long, shrill blast, +that had the wind lain that way it might have been heard to Orford. He +did not raise himself up, and it was well he did not, for over his head +whizzed a ball, and flash—flash—flash went the pistols. As was +predicted the men dropped their cargoes, and ran for the pit, but here +stood the coastguard ready to receive them, young Barry having brought +his men down below the horizon of the sea, that they might not be +exposed to the sight of the smugglers, whilst the river lying lower, and +they ascending from it, became a visible mark against the moonlit water +for their fire.</p> + +<p>Dreadful was the contest that ensued. The smugglers formed a close line: +the coastguard line was more measured, and with some spaces between each +two men, so that their danger was the less. The firing, as they +approached each other, was awful; two men of the smugglers fell. They +closed nearer, and swords clashed and sparkled in the moonlight; and the +uproar at length became more audible than the noise of the wind and +waves. At last there was one sudden, tremendous yell from the boat’s +crew, and then the cry for quarter; some fell, others fled, not to the +boat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> but along the coast. It was the object of the coastguard not to +pursue them so far as to separate from each other; and as three fled one +way, and two another, they merely sent flying shots after them, and +cleared a passage to the boat. The shout announced the leader of the +smugglers to be shot, and two more were lying by his side, and two +surrendered, and were disarmed and guarded, whilst but one of the +coastguard had fallen.</p> + +<p>As the enemy was dispersed young Barry mustered his men, and missed his +comrade. They found him near the two smugglers who had first fallen. +Close to them lay the captain, his arm nearly cut in two, shot in the +side, and severely wounded on the head. Young Edward, who had seen the +fight, now came forward to render further assistance. The two smugglers +were dead; but the preventive-service man and the captain of the crew +were not dead, though both were severely wounded.</p> + +<p>The two wounded men were taken to the shepherd’s cottage. Four men, with +Barry and young Edward, rowed across to the island, whilst ten men were +left to guard the prisoners and the cargo, and to secure the smugglers’ +boat. The whole proved to be a most valuable prize.</p> + +<p>The captain, as the reader may suppose, proved to be no other than the +hated John Luff. The old shepherd was released by young Catchpole, and +from cramp and pain from his long doubled-up position he could scarcely +stand. The two wounded men were placed upon his bed, presenting such a +contrast of feature, expression, and character, as the ablest artist in +the world could not have justly delineated. Luff, with his dark brow, +haggard eye, and hairy face, looking like a dying hyena, looked up and +saw before him, Barry, Catchpole, and the shepherd; and with the scowl +of revenge (a strong passion to exhibit in such agony), he muttered a +dreadful curse upon them all. The poor coastguard man, with his pale but +placid countenance, though suffering severely from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> his wounds, extended +his hands to his commander, and implored him to let him be carried to +another bed, to let him lie on the floor in the other room, or anywhere +but head to head beside the demon who lay shuddering and cursing by his +side.</p> + +<p>The bed of the shepherd’s daughter, who was at that time staying at +Orford, was brought down and laid in the keeping-room beside the +fireplace, and the poor fellow was laid upon it. Luff’s death-hour was +evidently at hand. It was a fearful thing to see him in his horrible +tortures, and to hear him, in his groans and moans, proclaiming himself +the murderer of Will Laud. Whenever he opened his eyes he saw nothing +but the evidences of guilt before him, as he raved in wild frenzy,—</p> + +<p>“There! there! there! I see him! He is not dead!—no! no! no! There’s +Laud and Margaret Catchpole! Look! they laugh at me!”</p> + +<p>At last, with one wild scream, his spirit, like an affrighted bird, fled +away. Never did those who stood near him witness such a death. A cold +shudder crept over their flesh, and they owned one to another that they +should never forget that awful sight.</p> + +<p>When it became known that the notorious smuggler, John Luff, was killed, +numbers came to see him; and few that saw his body but owned that he was +a fearful fellow when living. Government paid the reward over into the +hands of the coastguard, who all subscribed liberally towards the +comfort of their wounded messmate. Edward Catchpole was included among +those who shared the reward, and this enabled him to pay all his +expenses without any recurrence to his sister’s purse.</p> + +<p>When young Catchpole returned to Nacton with the eventful tidings of his +journey, and related all the particulars to Margaret, stating his full +belief of Laud’s death, she pondered for a while over his statement, and +then expressed her dissent from her brother’s conclusions.</p> + +<p>“I see no certain proof of Laud’s death,” said she.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> “The old shepherd +and the wretch Luff, may both have supposed him dead; but there is a +mystery not yet cleared up which fills me with strange hopes—I mean the +sudden disappearance of the two sailors with the boat that very night. +Luff made no mention of them in his dying moments. I really think these +two men are somehow connected with the safety of Laud; and I yet have +hope.”</p> + +<p>She rejoiced, however, that Laud was not found in company with his +former band, and especially with that bad man Luff; and drew +conclusions, in her own mind, favourable to his character and conduct. +She was very grateful to her brother; and not long afterwards she +proposed to return to her place. She had certainly been very remiss in +not communicating with her mistress once since she left her. So taken up +was she with her thoughts of Laud, that she forgot her situation; and, +until her brother’s return, had never spoken of going back to Ipswich. +Her mistress not hearing of or from her, sent over to Brandiston, and +there learned that she had never been to see her uncle and aunt, nor had +they heard anything of her. A man was sent to Nacton, and, +unfortunately, the cottage was locked up, as Margaret had been that day +to spend a few hours with her first mistress, at the Priory Farm. These +strange circumstances made her mistress at Ipswich conclude that she was +gone in search of Laud; and consequently she engaged another servant. +When Margaret returned to St. Margaret’s Green she found her place +filled up; and her mistress reproached her for her neglect in not having +had some communication with her. Margaret felt hurt and disappointed. +She stayed a short time at one or two places, but was extremely +unsettled and dissatisfied. She was in the habit of frequently visiting +St. Margaret’s Green, and of being asked to go and see the children. +About eight months after a vacancy unexpectedly occurred in Mrs. +Cobbold’s establishment, and Margaret entered a second time into the +service of her former mistress, in the capacity of cook; but her stay +this time was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> short. She was now as unlike as possible to the Margaret +of former days. She was not happy. Her temper had been soured by +disappointment, and her spirit made restless by rumours of Laud being +alive. She became impatient towards her fellow-servants, careless in her +dress and manner, and negligent in her work—a complete contrast to her +former self, who had been a pattern of order, decency, and regularity. +At the end of one year, it became her mistress’s painful duty to give +her a final warning. It was a real heartfelt sorrow to that benevolent +lady to be compelled, for the sake of example to her other servants, to +discharge Margaret. But she could not do otherwise.</p> + +<p>Here was a painful duty discharged conscientiously. Let not the reader +think that it made no impression. It fell with full force upon +Margaret’s mind. Margaret wept most bitterly when she found that she +must now break off all connexion with that family in which she had once +been so happy. She merely asked permission to remain till the end of the +week, and that in such a subdued tone and supplicating manner, as +touched her mistress’s heart. It is needless to say that her request was +granted.</p> + +<p>The morning of departure arrived, and not a servant, no, nor a child in +that house, could say “Good-bye" without tears. Her mistress, when +handing over to her the money directed to her by Laud, made Margaret sit +down, and conversed with her upon her future prospects. She also gave +her some good books for a remembrance, expressed a hope that she would +read them, and told her she should forget all but her good deeds, and be +ever ready to serve her.</p> + +<p>Then, with tears rolling down her cheeks, Margaret tottered to the cart +which had been provided to take her to Brandiston, and left that house +never to enter it again, and never to look upon it without terror.</p> + +<p>The author cannot help introducing at the close of this chapter an +authenticated document, which has been sent to him from Reading, in +Berkshire. It is the testimony of a man still living, who has never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +forgotten Margaret Catchpole: and the reader will say he had good reason +to remember her. This man now lives in the service of Mr. John Snare, +No. 16 Minster Street, Reading; and, since the publication of the former +edition of this work, has made known to his master a providential escape +which he had in his infancy, through the intrepidity of this +extraordinary woman. Poor Margaret! it is with inexpressible pleasure +that the author transcribes this tribute to her memory; for it proves to +him, that whatever was the cause of her unsettled state of mind, her +noble spirit was still as prompt to hear the cry of the helpless as in +her days of confidence and comfort with her beloved mistress. The author +is indebted to the Rev. John Connop, Bradfield Hall, Reading, for the +original document, which he now gives to the public; and which he is +happy to add, is fully confirmed by persons now living at Ipswich.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="center"><i>The Declaration of William White, of Reading, in Berkshire.</i></p> + +<p>“My parents lived on St. Margaret’s Green, St. Margaret’s parish, +Ipswich, about five doors from the house of John Cobbold, Esq. +Margaret Catchpole was then living in Mr. Cobbold’s service as +cook. About the middle of the spring of 1797, I, being then a child +about six years of age, was playing on the Green with many of the +neighbours’ children; and in the midst of our sport, a mad bull +rushed most furiously towards us, directing his attack upon our +little group to the precise spot where I stood. Paralysed by fear +and surprise, I saw no hope of safety in flight, and must have +fallen a victim to the assault of the infuriated beast, had not my +companions set up a cry of alarm. At this critical moment, Margaret +Catchpole rushed out of Mr. Cobbold’s house, to ascertain the cause +of the disturbance, and had the courage to fly in the face of the +bull, just as he was in the act of tossing me. Indeed I was +slightly gored by him, and must inevitably <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>have been severely +injured, had not this courageous woman snatched me up, and carried +me into Mr. Cobbold’s kitchen, taking every care of me until my +parents arrived.</p> + +<p>“I was not seriously hurt, but I have been told that my bruises and +scars did not disappear for several weeks; and during this time I +was visited by Margaret Catchpole and Mrs. Cobbold, who both took +great notice of me, and evinced great anxiety for my recovery.</p> + +<p>“I remember that this courageous act of Margaret Catchpole’s was +much talked of at the time, and the Rev. Mr. Fonnereau, the rector +of St. Margaret’s, took much interest in the affair; so much, +indeed, did he think of it, that on my marriage in 1817, he, being +still the rector, and performing the ceremony, reminded me of the +extraordinary circumstance which had occurred in my childhood, and +of my providential escape from an early grave.</p> + +<p>“My uncle, Samuel Bayley (my mother’s brother), was cooper and +brewer to J. Cobbold, Esq., being in his employment at the Cliff +Brewery, near Ipswich, at the time the above occurred.</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">William White.</span></p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Reading</span>, February 18th, 1847.”</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap" /> + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI<br /><span style="font-size:70%">GUILT AND CRIME</span></a></h2> + +<p>The reader will be anxious to know what really was the fate of Will +Laud, and will not be surprised to learn that Margaret’s idea was quite +in accordance with the fact. When Luff quitted the old shepherd upon +Sudbourn Heath, in search of Laud, he was prepared to find him at the +Compasses at Orford, and there he did find him, and he pretended to be +glad to see him, and to be very friendly with him. All former +ani<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>mosities seemed to be extinct; and Luff quickly wormed out of him +the secrets of his heart. He asked after Margaret with as much apparent +indifference as if he had heard nothing of her.</p> + +<p>“I have left her for ever,” said Laud. “I will have nothing more to do +with her. Some more powerful enemy than I have ever contended with has +at last prevailed over me, and pulled down the proud flag I had hoisted +in her love. I heard her say, almost to my face, that she would never +see another sailor, though she must have been expecting me home, for I +sent her word by an old messmate that I was coming; and what could she +mean, but to let me know flatly that she preferred some lubberly +landsman (perhaps some powdered footman) to one of Lord Howe’s Britons? +I could stand it no longer, so I just threw all my prize-money +overboard; and here I am, Jack, ready to join your crew again. Have you +forgotten our last rub? Come, give us your hand, Jack.”</p> + +<p>Luff put out his blood-stained palm, and pretended all the peace of a +restored friendship. Grog was ordered; and the two easily struck a +bargain to go on board again in the service of Captain Bargood. But Luff +was too determined a villain to forgo that opportunity, which now +offered itself, of fulfilling the deadly purpose he had often sworn to +his crew that he would accomplish, “to bring Laud a captive, dead or +alive, on board the brig.” The treacherous fellow had left no stone +unturned to bring about this plan. It was he who pursued such a system +of fraud with regard to Margaret as led to her disgrace. He hired +sailors to deceive her with false tales, and to learn what they could of +Laud, that he might the more easily wreak his vengeance upon his victim. +And now at last here was the object of his hatred, trusting to him as he +would have done to the most tried friend. He was as loud and artful in +his ridicule of Margaret as a determined monster of envy could be. He +had heard, he said, many tales of her; and that she was at last going to +marry one of the brewhouse men.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> Such were the inventions of this +hollow-hearted villain, to inflame the irritable mind of Laud. There +were two of the crew present, to whom Luff had given the wink, and made +them to understand he had trapped his man.</p> + +<p>“Let us take a bit of a cruise, and have a look at the port,” said Luff +to his pretended friend; and then turning to the others, he said, “We +shall be in again presently, and go on board to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, master,” replied one of the men, ”all right!—I say, Sam,” +observed he, when the two captains had left the room, “what a shocking +fellow our captain is! I’ll wager now that he either puts a bullet +through Laud’s head, or a dagger in his heart, or shoves him overboard +at night!”</p> + +<p>“Aye, Jim, I don’t mind a brush with the coastguard, but I don’t like +such cold-blooded work as this any more than you do. Don’t let us wait +for the captain; but, as soon as we have finished our grog, let’s be off +for the boat.”</p> + +<p>“With all my heart, Sam; and let us drink our young captain’s health, +and good luck to him.”</p> + +<p>Luff had enticed his captain to a longer walk than he expected; and no +sooner had they entered the Gap Lane than he began a quarrel, and +presently attacked him, sword in hand. Laud defended himself with great +dexterity, until his sword was broken, and he himself disarmed. He fled +towards the marshes, but was overtaken, cut down, and cast for dead into +one of those deep marsh ditches which abound in the neighbourhood of +Orford. After Luff had thus wreaked his vengeance, he crept stealthily +towards the town; and as he went picked up Laud’s watch, which had +fallen from his pocket. It made his blood, already heated with exertion, +grow cold with conscious horror. He was too great a villain, however, to +have much thought of mercy, pity, or repentance. He entered the +Compasses and called for a strong north-wester, and inquired for his +men, and learned they had been gone to their boat some time. He gave +them some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> coarse malediction for their pains, and sat down to his +strong potation.</p> + +<p>The two men were at that time crossing a plank over the very dyke which +Laud had been cast into, and were startled by his groans. On looking +about them they observed a man’s head just out of the water, beside the +bank; they pulled him out, and found to their horror that it was Laud. +Having decided on taking him to his uncle’s, they lifted Laud up and +carried him across the marshes, and laid him as carefully as they could +upon some old sails at the bottom of the boat; and instead of going down +the river to Hollesley Bay, they rowed directly up the river with the +flood tide. They arrived at Aldborough just as the tide turned, and had +the precaution or prudence, directly they landed, to send their boat +adrift; which, getting into the channel, was carried down the river, and +was cast upon a sand-bank, within a few yards of the smuggler’s cutter, +by which means it was supposed that the two men had perished; for at +daybreak, when Luff came on board, he was the first to discover the +boat, keel upwards, upon the bank.</p> + +<p>“It served them right,” said the captain, “for leaving their commander +behind them.”</p> + +<p>They had safely conveyed Will Laud to the Jolly Tar, which then stood +close to the river’s side. His uncle was sent for, who came, attended by +Mr. Nursey, at that time the skilful and highly esteemed surgeon of +Aldborough. He found him dreadfully wounded; but at length, by strict +attention and consummate skill, succeeded in effecting a cure. That +uncle had always loved his nephew, and in some measure considered +himself responsible for the waywardness of his seafaring propensities; +and he took him to his home, and treated him in every respect as a lost +son restored.</p> + +<p>Here, then, was an opportunity—a golden opportunity—for reformation. +Laud’s former character had been cancelled by his service in the British +navy; and his gallant conduct on the glorious 1st of June had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> obtained +for him a free discharge, with prize-money, and certificate of character +in the service. He was now placed in a situation calculated to restore +him to independence. In the years 1795 and 1796 he served his uncle +faithfully; and such were the hopes entertained of his steadiness and +attention to business, that at the end of that year, when his uncle +died, he left him all that he possessed.</p> + +<p>It may seem strange that Laud should never have sought for Margaret +Catchpole during all this time, or that she should not have made further +inquiries about him. Had they met at this period, and come to a mutual +explanation, they might both have been spared from that misery and +remorse attendant upon a degraded character. But it was otherwise +decreed. He had always brooded over his imaginary wrongs at the hands of +Margaret; had learned to think little of her; and never to have forgiven +her for that unfortunate speech the night he left Ipswich. And when he +became a master and a man of substance (as above related), he did not +appear to be settled or happy. The news of Luff’s death might have been +supposed to take away from him any hankering after the illicit pursuits +of his youth; but the escape of some of the crew, and their strong +attachment to Laud, induced him to listen to their proposals of service, +and to employ a ship in the trade; and he actually sent out smugglers, +though he would not head them himself; so that, very soon after the +decease of his uncle, Laud became deeply engaged again in the illicit +traffic of the coast.</p> + +<p>But what was Margaret doing all this time? She returned to her uncle and +aunt Leader, and became their assistant. She undertook once more the +management of the children, and was instrumental in restoring order and +decency in the house. She did not feel quite so lively an interest in +this employment as she had formerly done, though her aunt’s manner was a +complete contrast to what it had formerly been. By her uncle’s advice, +she put the money she never con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>sidered her own into the hands of the +much-respected general shopkeeper of the parish, who placed it in the +bank, and became a trustee for her. Still she resolved not to touch it, +but to keep it, as the property of Laud, until she should be more sure +of his death. She had great hopes still that she should one day see him +again. She lived with her uncle and aunt, and made herself useful in +every possible way; nor did she ever murmur at her condition, though she +often sighed over past misfortunes.</p> + +<p>In the month of May, 1797, she received a letter from old George Teager, +her fellow-servant, which ran thus:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Margaret,</span></p> + +<p>“This comes hoping it may find you well, as it still leaves me, +though very deaf. I have got a bit of news for you, which I know +you will be glad to hear. I was going down the Wash yesterday, when +who should I meet but Will Laud? He looked uncommon well, and was +very civil to me. He asked me many questions about you; and I set +him right about some bad splints and curbs he had got in his head. +He told me he should soon manage to see you, so no more from old</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">George Teager</span>.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Margaret’s Green</span>, May 3rd, 1797.”<br /></p> +</div> + +<p>Imagine poor Margaret’s anxiety. She waited seven days in such a state +of feverish suspense as only those so situated can feel. She rested +neither day nor night, but became each morning more anxiously disturbed, +until she determined to go herself to Ipswich.</p> + +<p>Now Laud had been to Ipswich to purchase some timber, and to dispose of +some of his smuggled goods. He had met old Teager, the coachman, and had +treated him with a friendly glass, which the old man seldom refused. He +had also met an old messmate accidentally; a good-for-nothing fellow, +whom Luff had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> formerly made use of to deceive Margaret with false +reports concerning him. Laud had treated this man to some grog; and in +talking over old times, the man disclosed some of Luff’s villainy, with +which Laud had never before been acquainted; especially his conduct to +Margaret on that wretched night in which Laud had sought an interview +with her. This fellow, whose name was John Cook, told him that he was +one of the sailors bribed to deceive her, and to go backwards and +forwards with false reports to the kitchen of St. Margaret’s Green.</p> + +<p>Laud now saw the reason for poor Margaret’s exclamation, “I will have +nothing more to do with any sailors!” The truth broke on him with such +conviction, that he resolved to seek out his betrothed the very moment +he had fulfilled his engagement at Ipswich. It is a remarkable fact, +that, on the very same day on which Laud left the town with the full +determination to see and have an explanation with Margaret, she +determined to go to Ipswich, to explain (if she could find him) the +whole of her conduct. This was on the evening of the 9th of May, 1797. +She had frankly explained to her uncle the purpose of her journey; and +as to the money in the hands of the trustee, she said, “If a letter +comes to you, from me, about it, you can then consult with Mr. Smith +about its disposal. I fully expect,” she added, “to meet Laud at +Ipswich, and whatever his fortunes may be, I am determined to share them +with him.”</p> + +<p>She arrived at Ipswich that afternoon, and took up her abode at her +former lodgings at the Widow Syers’, a distant relative of her mother’s, +though by no means a desirable person for Margaret to abide with at such +a time. She did not go, as she ought to have done, to her good mistress, +who would have instituted every inquiry for her; but she chose to pursue +her own course. She saw the old coachman, and learned from him that he +had seen Laud at the Salutation, in Carr Street, only the day before. +She did not stay to ask any more questions, but off she went towards +the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> public-house in question. On her way, it was her misfortune to meet +with that vagabond, John Cook, the very fellow who had so often made a +dupe of her before, and who was now the cause of her performing an act +that is probably without precedent in female history. Intent but upon +one thing, the obtaining an interview with her lover, the mainspring of +all her prospects in life, and the centre to which all her hopes, +wishes, thoughts, and cares were pointed, she was almost crazy with +anxiety to see this worthless object of her idolatry. She had been +betrayed into misfortunes by her blindness on this point; and though +careful, prudent, and considerate upon almost every other thing, she had +been, and was still, the easy victim of any artful machination which had +for its bait the sight of her lover. Had she consulted any of her +friends, Mr. Stebbing, Mr. Brooks, Mr. Notcutt, or her beloved mistress, +she would not have fallen a prey to the artful villainy of a wicked man; +but Margaret had forgotten at this time her mistress, and every other +consideration, except the all-engrossing subject which filled her heart; +and she saw neither danger nor difficulty, right nor wrong, but was +ready to go anywhere, or to do anything, provided she could only have an +explanation with Laud.</p> + +<p>“Why, Margaret, is that you?” said John Cook as he met her, turning the +corner of the Chaise and Pair, on the evening of the 9th of May; “why, +where have you been all these livelong days? And what are you doing now +in Ipswich?”</p> + +<p>“I am in search of Laud: have you seen or heard anything of him to-day?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that I have; you are in luck to meet with the only person in the +world who could tell you where he is! But this is not the place to be +talking secrets. Come with me to the Marquis Cornwallis, where Laud and +I have spent a merry time, and I will tell you all about him.”</p> + +<p>There was no difficulty in persuading her to accompany him, and on +arriving at the inn, Margaret found<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> by this fellow’s conversation with +the landlord, that Laud and he had spent the previous evening at that +house. This confirmed her belief in his story, and enabled him to make +her the easy dupe of all the vile inventions which were to follow.</p> + +<p>They requested that they might have the parlour to themselves; and the +ever-liberal Margaret ordered some refreshment, though she could, from +her anxiety, partake of nothing herself.</p> + +<p>“Well, I promised you I would tell you all about Laud; but first let me +tell you that I set him right about your ugly speech that night when you +got such a ducking.”</p> + +<p>“Did you? did you, indeed? What did he say to it? Did he forgive me?”</p> + +<p>“Did he? Aye! I’ll tell you what, I never saw a fellow so dumb-foundered +before. He looked almost like a madman, cursed his stars, and swore they +were all confederate against him. He swore you were the best creature in +the world, and if he could but see you, he would make you happy.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, John! how good you were to tell him! But where is he? Is he in +Ipswich? Do bring me to him?”</p> + +<p>“Hold hard a bit; I must let you into a little bit of a secret. You must +know that Laud and I are upon such intimate terms, that we communicate +by a kind of expression known only to ourselves. He, as you know, went +back to smuggling again after your rap, though that was not intentional +on your part. He did not go to sea, but entered upon the timber trade, +though he employed about twenty men under him to carry on his traffic. +Now I know he would have gone in search of your hiding-place, if he had +not been compelled to hide himself. The fact is, he is escaped from an +arrest for five hundred pounds which he was bound to pay to the Excise, +and but for a very lucky turn he would have been nabbed last night.”</p> + +<p>“Well, but where is he now?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I will tell you where he may be found to-morrow. All I know now is, +that he took the mail last night, by the greatest good luck in the +world, and went off to London. He is to write to me to-night, and I +shall be able to tell you to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>That this was all a mere invention of this rascal’s, to get out of +Margaret all he could, the reader will easily believe. Lucky was it for +her that she did not tell him what sum of money she had belonging to +Laud, or every farthing of it would have gone into this fellow’s hands. +As it was, he managed to get out of her what little cash she could +spare, under the promise of revealing to her the hiding-place of Laud. +After chatting with him a long time, and hearing much of herself and her +lover, all pure inventions of this fellow’s brain, and easily detected +by any person with less blindness upon the subject, Margaret took her +leave of him, giving him half-a-crown to spend. She returned to the +Widow Syers’, and, as might be supposed, passed a feverish night, +restless with nervous anxiety. Poor girl! she little thought of the +mischief then brooding for her ruin.</p> + +<p>The morrow came, bringing a letter to John Cook, of a very different +description to that which Margaret anticipated. It ran thus:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p style="text-align:right;">"<span class="smcap">Dog and Bone</span>, <span class="smcap">Lambeth</span>,<br /> +"May 8th, 1797.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Jack</span>,</p> + +<p>“I sold the bay mare at Smithfield yesterday. I might ha’ got more, +but the nabs were about; so I wopt her off for ten. Old Snacks, at +the Bone here, got his ’centage. I crabbed the old chap as well as +I could; but he’s up to snuff. You wouldn’t ha’ known old Peggy +again. We blacked her white legs and popt a white face on to her, +gave her a rat’s tail, filed her teeth, and burnt her mark, and wop +me if I mightent ha’ sold her for a six-year old, if I hadn’t been +in a hurry. But she’s off, they tell me, to serve in a foreign +country. She’s a right good un, though an old’n. All’s honour +bright, Jack!</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> +<p>“I say, old boy, we talked o’ the brown nag; can ye send him up to +Chelmsford? or if to the Dog and Bone, direct to your old chum,</p> + +<table class="signature60" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>"<span class="smcap">Bob Bush</span>,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad4">"Sam Snacks,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad2">"Dog and Bone, Lambeth.</td></tr> +</table> + +<table class="address" summary="addr"> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">To John Cook</span>,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad1">"Marquis Cornwallis,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad2">"Ipswich, Suffolk."</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p>This letter, which was found some days later at the inn, and delivered +up to the constable of the parish of St. Margaret’s, may serve to show +the connexion which this fellow had with a gang of horse-stealers, who, +at this time, infested the counties of Essex, Norfolk, and Suffolk. The +brown nag here mentioned was one which had been turned off in the +pastures of St. Margaret’s, belonging to John Cobbold, Esq. He was a +high-spirited little horse, and aged. The eyes of this rogue had been +upon him, and a most diabolical project now entered his brain, of making +Margaret Catchpole, whose early feats of riding were not unknown to him, +the minister of this theft.</p> + +<p>“I shall make something out of her now,” said the fellow, “if I can only +play upon her feelings. How shall I do it?”</p> + +<p>A thought struck him that he would tear off the half of the letter +containing the post-mark, and paste one which he would invent, on that +half, and sign it for Will Laud. Margaret knew little or nothing of +Will’s handwriting, so that she could easily be deceived in this +respect; and if she knew that it was not his, the fellow was ready +enough to swear that he had hurt his hand by the falling of a spar, and +so got a friend to write it for him. He put his wits to work, and +concocted an epistle as nearly pertinent to what he had made out Laud’s +case to be, as he could.</p> + +<p>He dated it from the same place from whence he received his own, and +intended to write to Bob Bush<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> to take the horse off Margaret’s hands, +if he could get her on to it. He wrote thus:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align: right;"><span class="smcap">Dog and Bone</span>, <span class="smcap">Lambeth</span>, May 9th, 1797.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Jack</span>,</p> + +<p>“Hurrah, my boy! Safely anchored, though I had cut my cable, and +run; but I have got into a friendly port, and my pursuers shan’t +easily find me. Precious hard, though, Jack, after just finding out +my girl, to have to tack and leave her. You might lend a hand now, +just to serve an old friend. Margaret would make my present dull +time a little lighter, if you could but find her up, and put her on +the right road to find me. I think she would forgive me, if you +could explain matters a little to her. Tell her we could get +married here, and after a time all would be well. But, Jack, mum +must be the order of the day. Don’t you fire a volley at me until +she’s off to London. She must come incog, Jack; aye, in man’s +clothes, if she can: you know why. A thought strikes me, which if +you put it into her head, will just suit her, and me too. Persuade +her to borrow the old pony of her master’s, from the pasture on the +Woodbridge road, or to take it with French leave. It is worth +nothing, and will never be inquired after; and if disposed of, will +scarcely be missed. And if she was found out, it would only be +treated as a good spree! So, Jack, try her; she has a spirit equal +to the work, and we shall then be no more parted. Now, do this for +</p> + +<table class="signature40" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>"Your old friend,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad4"><span class="smcap">Will Laud</span>”</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p>Margaret read this letter with mingled feelings of pain and pleasure, +but she implicitly believed every word of it, yet she did not like +Laud’s plan. “Why not go and borrow the horse of old Teager,” said she, +"if it must be so? I know he will lend it to me.”</p> + +<p>“What, and tell him you want his stable-dress to ride to London in? Fine +fun he’d make of it, would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> he not? No, no, Margaret, that will never +do. We must take it with French leave, or let it alone.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could see him by some other means. I do not like his plan; and +yet, perhaps, he has none other to offer,” said Margaret, as if +pondering within herself.</p> + +<p>“I can tell you he is not the man to offer it if he has,” said Cook. +"Once put him off again, and it will be long enough before you ever see +or hear of him again.”</p> + +<p>Margaret felt that such would be the case, and yielded to the artful +duplicity of this wicked man, and agreed to meet him the next night to +put their wild plan in practice. But as heaven willed that she should +have one more chance of escape from the evil which threatened her, the +excitement which she suffered brought on an attack of fever that very +night, and she was laid up for many days. The warning, however, was in +vain; and so soon as she recovered, she agreed to put their plan in +execution.</p> + +<p>It was on the 23rd of May that Margaret met John Cook at the place +before appointed, having previously bought herself a hat and a pair of +boots. But now a new obstacle presented itself, which, like the one just +alluded to, might have served as a warning, had any religious feelings +found place in Margaret’s mind and heart. They went into the meadow, and +for more than an hour tried to catch the horse. But it was all in vain; +he would be caught by nobody but old Teager.</p> + +<p>What was to be done now?</p> + +<p>“This is a turn I did not bargain for,” said John Cook, “and I have +written to Laud to say you will be, without fail, at the place I shall +tell you of when you are once mounted. A horse we came for, and a horse +we will have, for I would not disappoint the captain for a hundred +horses; so follow me, Margaret.”</p> + +<p>The girl hesitated, and inquired what it was he proposed to do.</p> + +<p>“Not many yards off, in yonder stable, there are two noble horses that +are worth riding; you shall take one of them.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Do you mean the carriage-horses? I dare not ride one of them.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense, girl! If you don’t come along and just do as I bid you, hang +me if I don’t write to Laud, and tell him you don’t care anything about +him. Come along! I must help you over the low wall against the end of +the garden. Come along! You have fairly begun the work; don’t give it +up.”</p> + +<p>Margaret never wanted courage until that moment, and then she followed, +trembling from head to foot.</p> + +<p>The fellow got on to the wall and assisted her up and down. He then went +across the lawn to the stable-yard with the trembling Margaret at his +heels; they found the stable-door locked; but the wicket at the side, by +the muck-bin, was unhanked and stood ajar. Margaret got into the stable +through this place, and slipped back the bolt of the stable-door; the +horses had been accustomed to her coming into the stable for straw for +her fire, and she had often spoke to them and patted them, so that her +voice now, as she said, “Whoho, Crop!" and “Gently, Rochford!" was +familiar to them; and they did not rise up until John Cook entered and +began to strike a light.</p> + +<p>“Now, Margaret, pull the litter down toward the stable-door, whilst I +just look into the harness-house.”</p> + +<p>Rochford, a fiery grey horse which Mr. Cobbold had lately purchased from +Lord Rochford, at Easton, rose up and snorted, and clanked his chains so +terribly, that Margaret expected every moment that old George who slept +over the stable, would present himself; but the old man was deaf, and +heavy in his sleep, and had only returned from Mrs. Proby’s, of +Stratford, late that evening, and had not been in bed above an hour, so +that he was in his first sound sleep.</p> + +<p>“Margaret, you must take this lantern, and just move the dark part +round, and it will show you where the old boy’s stable-dress is; go up +the stairs carefully, and bring it down with you.”</p> + +<p>Margaret did so. She went with breathless step to the bedside of the +coachman. His stable dress was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> upon the floor; she took it up gently, +and as cautiously receded with it down to the stable again, closing the +door without noise.</p> + +<p>“So far so good, Margaret. Now, do you dress yourself there in the empty +stall, while I saddle and bridle the further horse.”</p> + +<p>This, however, was more than John Cook could do, for Rochford was of +such a spirit, and sent out at him with such vengeance that he dared not +go up to him; nor could he without Margaret’s help put the saddle or +bridle on to Crop. She dressed herself as quickly as she could in the +coachman’s stable-dress; he being a little fellow, and Margaret rather +tall, they only hung about her a little loosely, but were not too long +for her. When she came from the stall, after rolling her own things in a +bundle, and putting them into the very bottom of the seed-box, under the +manger, and covering them with hay, she looked exactly like a young +groom. She went up to the Crop horse and patted him on the neck, whilst +her companion saddled and bridled him; she then tied some straw round +his feet, so that no noise should be made in the stable-yard, and out +the gallant fellow was led, ready for such a journey and for such a +rider as never before had mounted his back.</p> + +<p>“Now my girl,” exclaimed Cook, “screw up your courage to the start! Come +into the meadow. I can let you out on to the Woodbridge road, and then +off with you.”</p> + +<p>“But where am I to find him? You have not told me that,” exclaimed +Margaret.</p> + +<p>“Mount! and I will tell you.”</p> + +<p>Margaret, with his aid, was soon in the saddle, and once there, she felt +her own command over her steed.</p> + +<p>“Now Margaret,” he replied, “mind what I say: you must sell that horse +if you can, at Chelmsford market to-morrow morning; if not, you must +ride on to the Bull, in Aldgate, London; but if you regard your own and +your lover’s safety, you will sell the horse first, and then find your +way to the Dog and Bone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> public-house, at Lambeth; there you will find +Will Laud expecting you. Sell the horse for all you can get; say he is +worth a hundred guineas, and that your master, Squire John Cook, sent +you up to sell him.”</p> + +<p>The horse was a strawberry roan colour, remarkable for his action and +the spirit with which he went through a journey. His ears were short +enough, for, in accordance with a barbarous practice of that day, they +were cropped; few that ever knew the horse could forget him; in harness +he carried himself as proudly as if he had been trained to exhibit his +beauty, but this was his constant habit; his spirit was such, that he +was never touched with a whip, and never exhibited the least disposition +to restiveness; free, easy, gentle, noble, swift, untiring, graceful, +and grand—he was admired wherever he went; and the short coachman, who +occasionally used to ride him, made him, a sixteen-hand horse, look at +least a hand higher. What an object was Margaret Catchpole upon him! Her +spirit was up as well as Crop’s; her resolution to go through all she +had undertaken was fixed, and in reply to John Cook’s question, when +they came to the paddock-gate, “Are you ready, Margaret?” she replied, +"Quite ready!”</p> + +<p>“And now, off with you,” said the fellow, as he opened the gate. +"Remember the ‘Dog and Bone.’ A hundred guineas for the horse, and you +will be a happy woman;" and off started poor Margaret at a sweeping pace +for the London road.</p> + +<p>St. Margaret’s clock struck one, just as she passed the front of that +house in which she had lived so much respected, and in which, +unconscious of her guilt, slept the kindest master and mistress that a +servant ever knew.</p> + +<p>But Margaret rode on, reckless of all the ills that might await her, and +thinking only of the lover that she was to meet at the end of her mad +journey.</p> + +<p>The guard of the mail-coach observed to the driver of the Ipswich mail, +as Margaret met it, about two miles before she reached Colchester, +"That’s Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> Cobbold’s Crop horse! There must be something the matter in +the family by the pace the groom is going. Did you see the fellow’s +stable-dress up to his knees? There’s something amiss, or the horse is +stolen.”</p> + +<p>When he came to Ipswich, the man mentioned the circumstance at the +coach-office, and said he was positive something was wrong.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bailey, the postmaster, immediately sent a messenger with a note, to +inform Mr. Cobbold that the guard had met some one riding his horse very +fast on the London road.</p> + +<p>It was five o’clock when the man rang loudly at the porch-bell; the +footman came down in a great hurry and carried up the note to his +master’s room, who quickly ordered him to go to the stable and see if +George Teager and the horses were safe. He ran to the stable, and true +enough, he found the Crop horse gone. He called out to George, whom, at +first, he suspected of having gone off with the horse, “Hullo, George; +Crop is gone!”</p> + +<p>The old man jumped up. “What’s the matter? Who calls?”</p> + +<p>“One of the horses is stolen, George; you must come down immediately; it +was met two miles this side of Colchester!”</p> + +<p>“Come, come, Tom, none o’ your tricks! this is only some of your +nonsense: can’t ye let an old fellow rest in his bed without playing off +your boy’s tricks? what have you done with my stable dress?”</p> + +<p>This made Thomas bolt upstairs.</p> + +<p>“I know nothing of your stable-dress; I tell you master will be here in +a minute: on with your livery. I’ll be whipped if somebody has not +stolen the fustians! Come, old boy, this is no fun, it’s as true as you +are staring there; so up with you.”</p> + +<p>George found by his companion’s earnest manner that he spoke the truth, +and putting on his livery he came down; he was, as many a man at his age +and in his situation would be, much bewildered. He ascertained, however, +that the thief had taken his master’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> new saddle and bridle, and a +small stick of his own. He observed that it must have been an old +practitioner, by the straw being littered down to the door, and pointed +out to Thomas that the horse’s hoofs had been covered with straw to +prevent them clattering on the pavement of the yard. His master soon +came down and easily tracked the horse to the paddock gate. Of course +all the family were roused. “Go directly, George, up to Mr. Spink’s, the +dealer’s, who got this horse for me, and knows him as well as you do, +and order a post-chaise from the Lion, and bring Mr. Spink here. You +must both of you pursue the thief, even to London. Be as quick as you +can.”</p> + +<p>In the meantime a handbill was written and sent to Mr. Jackson’s, of the +<i>County Press</i>, with a request that copies might be struck off +immediately, in time for the nine o’clock coaches to London. It was to +this effect:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align:center;">"TWENTY GUINEAS REWARD.</p> + +<p>“Whereas, last night, or this morning, May 24th, a fine strawberry +roan grey gelding was stolen out of the stable of John Cobbold, +Esq., of St. Margaret’s Green, Ipswich, together with a new saddle +and bridle, and the coachman’s stable-dress. Whoever shall give +information of the robber, so as to lead to the recovery of the +horse, or the conviction of the offender, shall receive the above +reward at the hands of the owner.</p> + +<p>“N.B. The horse is sixteen hands high, has cropped ears, is six +years old, has a cut tail, and is very strong and very fast.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Ipswich</span>, May 24th, 1797.”</p> +</div> + +<p>This was struck off as soon as possible, and circulated over the town +and through the country, by every vehicle leaving the town.</p> + +<p>It was about seven o’clock when old Teager and Mr. Spink left Ipswich +for Colchester, so that Margaret had some hours’ start of her pursuers. +As they went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> on they heard at every toll-gate of a young man having +gone through on just the description of horse given, so that it was a +warm scent before them.</p> + +<p>When they arrived at Chelmsford, through a misdirection of some person, +they were told that the same horse was seen going on to Maldon, in the +hundreds of Essex; and they had just given the post-boy orders to turn +off the London road in pursuit, as Mr. Alston, of Diss, rode into the +yard of the Black Boy as the pursuers were in the act of getting into +the chaise.</p> + +<p>“Pray, sir, may I be so bold as to ask if you came far along the London +road?”</p> + +<p>“I left town this morning, and am now on my journey to Manningtree. Why +do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“Because I am in pursuit of a thief. You did not chance to meet a man +riding a strawberry roan carriage-horse?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I did; and remarked at the time that I thought it was the finest +shaped horse I had ever seen. He was a crop, with high action and bold +crest.”</p> + +<p>“It is the very horse! Whereabouts might you meet him, sir?”</p> + +<p>“I met him I should say about five miles on the other side of Romford, +near to Ilford. It was about nine o’clock. I remarked to myself, what a +fool the lad must be who was riding him, that he did not manage to +fasten his overalls down at his ankles, as I could see his stockings up +to his knees. Some gentleman I thought was sending him into livery +stables.”</p> + +<p>“We are greatly obliged to you, sir. On, boy, on!" and the post-chaise +dashed out of the yard.</p> + +<p>But for the accidental meeting of Mr. Alston it is very probable +Margaret would have escaped; but the information thus given put the +pursuers on the right scent, just in the right time.</p> + +<p>Meantime let us accompany Margaret on her perilous expedition. She had +actually ridden the horse from Ipswich to London in the space of eight +hours and a half; it being seventy miles from that place to the Bull, in +Aldgate. She only stopped once on the road,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> at a small public-house, +called the Trowel and Hammer, at Marks Tey, in Essex; here she gave her +gallant horse a feed of corn, and had a glass of brandy and water and a +biscuit. It was just five o’clock when she baited. She dared not to +offer the horse for sale at Chelmsford for fear of detection, at such an +early hour. She felt persuaded that a pursuit would be made, and hoped +to hide herself in the metropolis before her pursuers could reach her. +Accordingly she allowed the horse no more time than was sufficient for +him to finish his corn, and off she went again for nearly five hours’ +further ride. As she approached town many were the eyes directed towards +her, both on account of the remarkable character of the horse, and the +singular appearance of the rider. Margaret took no notice of any one, +but pushed on her willing steed with the same indifference as if she had +been sent upon an errand of only a few miles; nor was the horse +apparently fatigued in the least when they arrived at the Bull Inn, +which they did about half-past nine o’clock.</p> + +<p>She rode quietly down the yard, called for the ostler, dismounted, shook +her trousers down, and addressed the man in as off-hand a manner as if +she were a real groom.</p> + +<p>“Rub that horse down well, and get him cool and comfortable; give him a +sup of water and a mouthful of hay, and I will come and see him fed.”</p> + +<p>“Have you rode far, young man?” asked the ostler.</p> + +<p>“Not a very great way. I came out of Chelmsford this morning. See and +rub his ears dry, ostler. You must make him look as well as you can, for +I expect my master up in town to-night; and if I don’t meet with a +customer for that horse he’ll blow me up.”</p> + +<p>“He’s a very fine horse; and if as good as he looks, would be worth any +man’s money.”</p> + +<p>“He’s better than he looks, ostler: and ’tisn’t any man’s money that +will buy him. He must give a good price for him, whoever buys him. But +look well after him. I must go and get a bait myself.”</p> + +<p>She went into the bar, ordered her breakfast, took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> up the newspaper, +and with all the airs of a consequential young jockey sat down to the +perusal of it. After taking some refreshment she got up to see her horse +fed.</p> + +<p>The ostler, finding so fine a horse was for sale, apprised a +livery-stable-keeper of his acquaintance, who on hearing his +representation hastened to look at him. Margaret was called out; the +animal exhibited; under-valued by the dealer in the style so +characteristic of such gentry; and his good qualifications well vouched +for by the young groom.</p> + +<p><a name="CORR_4" id="CORR_4"><ins class="correction" title="original: “Did you ever see a better shape ”">“Did you ever see a better shape?”</ins></a> exclaimed Margaret. “Look at his +fore-end; there’s a crest, there’s a shoulder, there’s a head! Look at +his legs, as straight and clean as a colt’s; and as for quarters, where +will you find such for strength and beauty? He’s six-year old next +grass; has never done any hard work before this day; and you won’t find +a puff as big as a pea in any of his sinews. Quiet to ride or drive, and +without a fault. Now, what’s the matter with him?”</p> + +<p>This was such a poser to the dealer that he could only reply by asking, +“Can I have a warranty with him?”</p> + +<p>“To be sure you can,” said Margaret. “You may have a written one from +me; or, if you like better to deal with my master, you may wait till he +comes up, and then he’ll give you a character, and perhaps you’ll make a +better bargain with him than you will with me.”</p> + +<p>“Are you authorized to sell the horse?”</p> + +<p>“To be sure I am, or else I should not stand here to talk with you about +him.”</p> + +<p>“Who does he belong to, young man?”</p> + +<p>“He belongs to my master, Mr. Cook, of Ipswich, in Suffolk.”</p> + +<p>“What do you want for him?”</p> + +<p>“One hundred guineas.”</p> + +<p>“May I take him for a trial?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; when you have bought and paid for him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> He is not to go out of my +sight until I receive the money for him, or deliver the horse himself +into my master’s charge.”</p> + +<p>“I should like to see him down our ride; I could better judge of his +paces.”</p> + +<p>“Clap the saddle on him. I will ride him where you like; or I will let +you drive me with him; but I do not trust any one else with him whilst +he is in my care.”</p> + +<p>The saddle and bridle were put on, and Crop came out of the stable free, +and ready to trot back again to Ipswich if his rider was so disposed. He +was as fresh and joyous as a lark, and sprang up into the air with +almost as light a heart. Margaret mounted awkwardly; put her foot into +the stirrup the wrong way; and perceiving that this was noticed, she +crossed the stirrups over the saddle in front of her, saying,</p> + +<p>“My master always makes me ride without stirrups, and I like it best.”</p> + +<p>In truth she sat the horse better without them; and had she had no +saddle, it would have suited her even better still; but this seemed to +have the desired effect.</p> + +<p>The dealer, however, entertained some suspicions from the awkward manner +of the groom, and having already suffered for purchasing a stolen horse, +he was more on his guard than he otherwise might have been.</p> + +<p>They went out of the stable-yard together, and reached the ride +belonging to the dealer, and Margaret turned her horse in as she was +directed. The stable lads peeped out to see what kind of nag their +master was buying, and were not satisfied with a glance, but looked with +much admiration at him.</p> + +<p>“Just trot him down the ride, young man.”</p> + +<p>Margaret dashed down the yard and back again.</p> + +<p>“Soho! my fine fellow! Peter,” he said to his head man, “just come and +look at this nag.”</p> + +<p>Peter stepped forward, and gave his master a knowing look, as much as to +say, “Am I to decry him?”</p> + +<p>“Look at his mouth!”</p> + +<p>Peter did so.</p> + +<p>“How is it, Peter?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p> + +<p>“All right, sir.”</p> + +<p>“What’s his age?”</p> + +<p>“Rising six.”</p> + +<p>“What do you say to him?”</p> + +<p>Peter looked at every point, then scratched his head, and again looked +at his master; but he received no sign to manÅ“uvre; so he replied, +"Why, master, if you ask for truth you shall have it. He’s a right good +one; that is it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, young man, now what is the lowest price you will take?”</p> + +<p>“I told you his price when you asked me before. You don’t expect me to +lower the price of my own horse without a bid! What do you say you will +give?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I don’t know! He’s not every man’s horse! Not easily matched; and +not suited for a town horse; but I’ll bid you fifty guineas for him.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you for your bid, sir; but you must come nigh to double that +before you’ll buy.”</p> + +<p>“Will you take sixty for him?”</p> + +<p>“No; I will not.”</p> + +<p>“Will you take seventy? Come now, I’ll give you seventy. You may go a +long way before you’ll get such another offer. Say, will you take it?”</p> + +<p>“Add another ten to it and it shall be a bargain. I will take eighty.”</p> + +<p>“Just walk him down again. Peter, what do you think of him?”</p> + +<p>“He’s worth the money; that’s what I say. Buy him, master.”</p> + +<p>“Well, young man, I’ll take the horse; but you must give me a written +warranty with him.”</p> + +<p>“That I’ll do; but perhaps you’ll not like to conclude the bargain +without master’s warranty; if so, we had better not exactly conclude the +price.”</p> + +<p>This so took the dealer aback, that it drove away all suspicions, and he +said, “No, no; your warranty will do. I’ll give you the money.” He was +in the act of going to the gateway as he saw one of his men come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> into +the yard, with a paper in his hand, which proved to be one of the +identical hand-bills, offering a reward of twenty guineas for the very +horse he had just bought. “Peter,” he called out, “tell the young man +just to walk that horse once more up the yard, and come you here.”</p> + +<p>He showed Peter the bill, who said: “It’s the very horse!”</p> + +<p>“Go you and fetch a constable; I’ll keep him in play a bit until he +comes.”</p> + +<p>“He’s a charming shaped horse, young man. I’d just a mind to ask you if +you’d throw the saddle and bridle into the bargain.”</p> + +<p>“Why, master told me I might sell that if I pleased, and if I sold well, +that should be my perquisite.”</p> + +<p>“I see ’tis a country-made saddle; but it looks pretty good. What will +you have for it?”</p> + +<p>“Four guineas for both. Come, I have let you take the horse at much less +than he is worth; you can afford to give me a fair price for the saddle +and bridle, which are, you see, quite new.”</p> + +<p>By this time Peter returned with the constable; but Margaret was joking +about the saddle and bridle, and greatly rejoicing at her success, not +the least conscious of the presence of the man of the law, or of the +dreadful fate which awaited her.</p> + +<p>“Did you say that horse came from Ipswich, young man?” said the dealer.</p> + +<p>“I did,” said she.</p> + +<p>“When did he leave Ipswich?”</p> + +<p>“Yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“Did you leave with him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I did; I told you so.”</p> + +<p>“No, you didn’t; you told me you rode him from Chelmsford.”</p> + +<p>“So I did; and from Ipswich too.”</p> + +<p>“What was your master’s name?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. John Cook,” said Margaret, who now began to feel a little uneasy.</p> + +<p>“Are you sure it was not Mr. John Cobbold? Look at that hand-bill, young +man.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> + +<p>Margaret saw only her master’s name, and all her fortitude forsook her; +she swooned away in a moment, and would have fallen from the horse, had +not the constable caught her by her jacket as she was falling; and in +endeavouring to support her off the horse the jacket flew open, and to +the astonishment of all around, lo, and behold, it was a woman!</p> + +<p>Margaret was taken into custody; and such a hubbub was created in the +neighbourhood, that the story of a female horse-stealer was soon spread +abroad, and people began to crowd into the yard. Among the multitude was +a son-in-law of Mr. Cobbold’s, who happened to be in town at the time, +and identified both the horse and his rider. It was not long before the +coachman and Mr. Spink made their appearance, and she was taken before a +magistrate, and immediately committed to Newgate, until further evidence +could be produced.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII<br /><span style="font-size:70%">PREPARATION FOR TRIAL</span></a></h2> + +<p>Margaret Catchpole was taken into custody; and whilst she was spending a +dismal night in the dungeon, a letter was on the road to Ipswich, to +inform her master of the capture of the thief.</p> + +<p>The wretched young woman had now time for rest and reflection. Instead +of meeting her lover, for which purpose alone she had undertaken her +desperate enterprise, she had now before her eyes the terrors of the +law, the certainty of conviction, the probability of a violent and +shameful death. Who knew anything of the cause which had induced her to +steal the horse, and who would pity her if they did? The secret was +known only to herself, and she resolved it should continue so, lest her +lover should be involved in the consequences of her guilt.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> + +<p>It will readily be believed that the news of what had happened created +no small sensation in the minds of the various members of that family +who had so dearly loved the miserable culprit.</p> + +<p>It was immediately arranged that both Mr. and Mrs. Cobbold should go to +town, and they arrived about nine o’clock in the evening at the Four +Swans, Bishopsgate Street.</p> + +<p>At the time fixed for the examination of the prisoner before the +magistrates, Mr. and Mrs. Cobbold arrived at the Police-office in +Whitechapel.</p> + +<p>Many gentlemen were present, who having heard the case mentioned, had +obtained permission to attend.</p> + +<p>The office was crowded, and the street also, for it was understood that +Margaret was to be brought up for examination. Hundreds who knew nothing +of the parties, but only that a female had stolen a horse, were +assembled purely from curiosity to see such a person.</p> + +<p>Margaret was brought up in proper custody, and found herself the object +of jokes and gibes amidst the thoughtless rabble of the streets. She was +conducted into an ante-room adjoining the court, and as a door opened +into the passage from the magistrates’ private room, she thought she +heard her mistress’s voice. Another moment convinced her that she saw +her. It was to her a moment of great bitterness and agony.</p> + +<p>At the request of the prosecutor, she was summoned into the magistrates’ +private room, before going into the public court. She was terrified +beyond measure at the idea of encountering the sight of her mistress. +She begged hard not to be taken into her presence, but she was compelled +to go in. The moment she saw her she exclaimed: “Oh, my dear mistress!" +and fell to the ground. She was lifted up and placed in a chair; and +from her dreadful state of agitation, it was agreed among the +magistrates that, upon her recovery, her deposition should be taken +where she then was. Accordingly, the clerk was summoned from the public +office into the private room.</p> + +<p>Her mistress as well as herself was greatly affected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> at the interview, +and deeply touched at her distress. All the gentlemen present felt more +than commonly interested in the scene.</p> + +<p>The girl slowly revived; the gentlemen took their seats, and the clerk +was ordered to take down her deposition. The magistrate told her that +the confession she had made, and might now make, would be evidence +against her on her trial, and that she was at liberty to speak, or not, +as she pleased.</p> + +<p>Having implored and obtained forgiveness from her master and mistress, +Margaret became more composed, and made a full confession of her guilt. +She acknowledged that she had been persuaded, and even compelled, to +this act by a man named John Cook, a sailor at Ipswich, and declared +that she stole the horse by his direction and threats; that she was to +have sold it at Chelmsford, but that she dared not offer it there. She +did not once betray her lover’s name, or mention anything about his +hiding-place; but she described all the particulars of the robbery with +which the reader is acquainted, and stated, as a corroborative fact, +that her own clothes would be found, if not already removed, under the +manger of the empty stall.</p> + +<p>Her deposition having been then read over to her by the clerk, she +signed her name to it. Before they parted, Mrs. Cobbold spoke to her +consolingly, while she placed before her mind the heinousness of her +offence. Poor Margaret felt better after this, and with a heart very +much humbled, was committed to Newgate by N. Bond, Esq., with an order +for her removal as soon as the forms could be gone through, to the gaol +of the county in which the offence was committed. Mr. Cobbold was bound +over to prosecute, which being done, that gentleman and his lady +returned to their hotel.</p> + +<p>Every effort was made to discover the resort of John Cook; but that +scamp, the moment he heard of the capture, decamped, nor was he ever +after heard of. He was well known; and the landlord of the Marquis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> +Cornwallis testified to Margaret’s having been at his house with the +man, as also his being at the same place with Captain Laud, as he was +called, the evening before. But what became of him no one ever knew. The +half of a letter from his companion in London was found at the inn, and +was adduced to show his connexion with a gang of horse-stealers; but +this only served to tell against poor Margaret on her trial.</p> + +<p>Margaret was removed to Ipswich by <i>habeas corpus</i>, July 6th, 1797, and +Mr. Ripshaw, the gaoler, informed her mistress of her arrival.</p> + +<p>On the evening of the day Margaret arrived at Ipswich, she wrote the +following letter to her mistress. It has been already stated that she +had been taught to read and write, and keep accounts, by Mrs. Cobbold, +when she superintended the education of her family; and the results of +this teaching, as exemplified in the touching epistles which we shall +hereafter present to the reader, will doubtless be received with +singular interest, copied as they are from the original documents, which +are carefully preserved in the family. The following is the first she +ever wrote:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align:right;">"<span class="smcap">Ipswich</span>, Thursday, July 6th, 1797.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Honoured Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“Your wretched servant has this evening arrived at the county gaol. +Hope induced me to look forward to an earlier abode near you, that +I might have the consolation of your instruction and advice. Oh! my +honoured lady, when I look upon that dear spot in which you live, +and see those green fields before your house, in which I used to +walk and play with your dear children, I think the more deeply of +the gloom of my felon’s chamber, from which I can even at this +moment behold them. They recall to my mind those happy hours in +which I enjoyed your approbation and respect. How wretched do I now +feel! Oh! what have I not lost!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> +<p>“I am come to Ipswich to take my trial, and am already condemned +by my own conscience more severely than any judge can condemn me. +But yours must be the task to teach me how to escape, not the +condemnation of the judge, but of my own heart. Oh, my dear lady! +do come and see me! Many people were kind to me at Newgate, and +many persons contributed to my necessities; some indeed flattered +me, and called me a brave girl for my recent act, which they termed +clever and courageous. But if they were so, dear lady, why should I +now feel so much fear? I thought them poor consolers, and not half +such sincere friends as those who told me, as you did, the +greatness of my offence, and the probable extent of ultimate +punishment.</p> + +<p>“Honoured madam, would you let a messenger go to my dear father and +tell him where I am, and how much I desire to see him? I fear you +will think me very bold and troublesome, but I know your kind heart +will make allowances for my troubled mind. I should like to see my +Uncle Leader. But I should, first of all, like to see you, my dear +lady. Perhaps it will not be long before I shall see you no more. I +wish to make up my mind to the worst, but I am at times dreadfully +troubled. I feel it so hard to be suddenly torn away from every +earthly bond, and some on earth I do so dearly love; and none more +deserves that love than you do. Pray come to me; and ever believe +me</p> + +<table class="signature50" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>"Your grateful, though</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad4">"Most wretched servant,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad8"><span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>“P.S.—Mr. Ripshaw has promised to send you this letter this evening. He +tells me you have often inquired for me.”</p> +</div> + +<p>The chaplain of the gaol was a friend of Mrs. Cobbold’s; she wrote a +note to him requesting him to accompany her at any hour most convenient +to himself, to see her poor servant. At eleven o’clock the next day, the +interview took place between the wretched<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> culprit and this truly +Christian lady. She spent some hours with that disconsolate being, whose +whole thoughts seemed to be directed with bitter agony to days of past +happiness. For though she had endured much mortification in early life, +she had experienced the comfort and consolation of a true and +disinterested friend and benefactress in the person of that kind +mistress, and her naturally intelligent mind had duly appreciated these +benefits.</p> + +<p>These visits were repeated many times, and with the most beneficial +effects on the mind of the culprit. Her present anguish was the keener, +because her sensibilities were all so acutely alive to the memory of the +past. It was her mistress’s endeavour not to suffer her to be deceived +with any false hopes. She was well aware that the penalty of her crime +was death, and that unless her instigating accomplice could be delivered +up to justice, she stood every chance of being made a public example, on +account of the great frequency of the crime. To such an extent had +horse-stealing been carried on in the counties of Suffolk and Essex, +that scarce a week passed without rewards being offered for the +apprehension of the thieves.</p> + +<p>Margaret’s interviews with her father and brother were still more deeply +affecting: but to them and to her beloved mistress alone did she make +known the real circumstances, attending her stealing the horse. She did +not attempt, however, to defend the act, nor would she admit that +another’s influence was any exculpation of her offence. Mr. Stebbing, +the surgeon of the gaol, who had been her first friend in Ipswich, was +very kind to her, as was likewise his benevolent daughter, who lent her +many useful books. But the being she most wished to see, and from whose +memory she had never thought she could have been displaced, came not +near her in her adversity. William Laud had been at Nacton, to see her +father and brother. The report of her confession had reached him—he had +seen it in the newspapers; and it altered all his views<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> and intentions +respecting her; so that the very act which she had done in the hope of +strengthening his attachment to her, was the direct cause of his +deserting her. In fact, he believed that she had committed the act from +an attachment to somebody else, and he gave up all idea of her for the +future.</p> + +<p>But Margaret was still true to <i>him</i>. In one of her interviews with Mrs. +Cobbold, that kind and good lady, referring to the fact of Laud’s not +coming near her in her adversity, said earnestly—</p> + +<p>“You must endeavour to think less of him, Margaret.”</p> + +<p>“It is hard, madam,” was the reply, “for flesh and blood not to think of +one who has been in one’s thoughts so many years of one’s life. In happy +as well as miserable hours, I have thought of him, madam, and have +always hoped for the best. He is still in all my prayers!”</p> + +<p>“Your hopes of him, Margaret, must now be at an end. It would have been +happier for you, if they ended when you lived with me.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps so, good lady; perhaps so. Or even earlier. I think now of my +poor sister Susan’s last words: ‘Margaret, you will never marry William +Laud.’ I had hoped that these words were only the fears of the moment; +but, alas! I perceive they will prove too true!”</p> + +<p>The only diversion of Margaret’s mind at this period, from a fixed and +undivided attention to heavenly things, was the one hope of seeing Laud. +She clung with tenacity to this, as a sort of last farewell to all +things in the world. She said, that had she but one interview with him, +she should then have no other wish but to die.</p> + +<p>Time flew fast, and the day of her trial approached. She was to depart +for Bury, where the assizes were held, early on the morning of the 9th +of August; and, on the preceding day, she wrote the following letter to +her mistress:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align:right;">"<span class="smcap">Ipswich Gaol</span>, August 8th, 1797.</p> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Honoured Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“By the time you read this, which I expect will be at your happy +breakfast-table to-morrow morning, your poor servant will be at +Bury, awaiting the awful moment of her condemnation. I could not +leave this place, however, without pouring out my heart to you, my +dear and honoured lady; thanking you for your great kindness and +Christian charity to my poor soul. I have confessed my guilt to God +and man, and I go to my trial with the same determination to plead +guilty before both.</p> + +<p>“Honoured madam, I am told that the judge will call upon me to know +if I have anybody in court to speak to my character. Now, though I +cannot hope, and indeed would not urge you to be present in court, +considering the state you are now in,<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> yet you have spoken well +of me in private, and I know you would never fear to speak publicly +that which you have said of me in private. Perhaps a line from you +would do that which I want. You well know, my dear madam, that it +is not from any hope of its obtaining a pardon for me that I ask +it; but it is from the hope that one, whom I shall never see again, +may by some means catch a sight of it; and may think better of me +than the world at large, who know nothing of me, can do. Pardon +this weakness.</p> + +<p>“Think not that I have any hope of mercy or pardon here. You have +taught me how to hope for both hereafter. You have shown me much +mercy and pity here, and the Lord reward you and my dear master for +your unmerited compassion to your wretched servant! You have +fortified my mind with the riches of consolation in that religion +which I hope will be poured with tenfold increase into your own +heart, and give you that peace you are so anxious I should possess.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +It grieves me to see my fellow-prisoners so unprepared for the fate +which awaits them. Oh, that they had such friends as I have had! +Oh, that they had been partakers of the same consolation as myself! +And now, dearest lady, I have only to request your mention of me in +your prayers. Bless you, my dear madam! God bless you and your dear +children, and may they live to be a blessing to your old age! Give +my kind thanks to all those friends who may ever inquire about me. +And now, dearest lady, pardon the errors of this letter, as you +have done all the graver faults of your ever grateful and now +happier servant,</p> + +<p style="text-align:right;">"<span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>.</p> + +<p>“To <span class="smcap">Mrs. Cobbold</span>, St. Margaret’s Green, Ipswich.”</p> +</div> + +<p>Margaret, with several other prisoners, departed for Bury assizes in the +prisoners’ van, which started at six o’clock on the 9th of August, 1797, +under the care of Mr. Ripshaw, the gaoler, and arrived at that place +about eleven o’clock in the forenoon.</p> + +<p>The town was in a bustle, and the prisoners were received into the +borough gaol that day an hour or so previously to their trial—a day of +anxiety to many, but by too many spent in revelry and folly. The various +witnesses crowded into the town. The inns were filled on the 8th. +Expectation was alive and active; and the bustle of preparing for +business created a stir throughout that town, which at other times is +the most silent, the coldest, and the dullest place in England.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII<br /><span style="font-size:70%">TRIAL AND CONDEMNATION TO DEATH</span></a></h2> + +<p>There are few things that appear in greater and more painful contrast +than the general rejoicing which attends the assizes of a country town, +and the solemn and awful purposes for which those assizes are held. It +may be said, that it is matter of rejoicing when justice is about to be +administered; and that honest people have a right to be glad when the +wicked are about to be punished. But there is great difference between a +reasonable show of rejoicing, and the overflowings of pomp and parade, +levity and folly.</p> + +<p>At the assizes at Bury, at the time we speak of, the sheriff’s pomp and +state was something approaching to regal splendour. His gaudy liveries, +his gilded carriage, his courtly dress, and all the expenses attendant +upon such a station, made it a heavy burden to the unfortunate country +gentleman who should be appointed to such an office. The balls, too, and +public entertainments common at such time in the county, formed a +striking contrast to the sorrows and despair of the criminals. The +judges entered the town, the trumpets sounded, the bells rang, the +sheriff’s carriage was surrounded with hosts of gapers of all kinds, to +see their lordships alight at the Angel steps. The Lord Chief Baron +Macdonald and Mr. Justice Heath attended divine service, at St. James’s +Church, previously to their entering the courts. Who could look down +upon that assemblage, and see those grave men, with their white wigs +crowned with black patches, their scarlet robes, lined with ermine, +preceded by the sheriff’s officers, and all the municipal servants of +that ancient borough, with their gilt chains, silver maces, and ample +robes, and not think of the purpose for which they were assembled!</p> + +<p>The best preparation for the scenes met with in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> a court of justice, is +the house of prayer; though even here there is a strange contrast +between the peace and quietness of the church, and the bustle, broil, +and turmoil usually attendant on the administration of criminal justice.</p> + +<p>At twelve o’clock, on the day of trial, August 9th, 1797, the Lord Chief +Baron Macdonald took his seat upon the bench, in the criminal court. Mr. +Justice Heath presided in the Nisi Prius. On the right hand of the Lord +Chief Baron sat the High Sheriff, Chalonor Archdeckne, Esq., of +Glevering Hall, with his chaplain, and a full bench of county and +borough magistrates. After the proclamation had been read, the +respective lists of the grand jury for the county and the liberty were +then called over, as follows:—</p> + +<table width="60%" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="For the County"> +<col width="50%" /> <col width="50%" /> +<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">FOR THE COUNTY</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Lord Viscount Brome.</td><td class="tdl2">Francis Broke, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Sir John Blois, Bart.</td><td class="tdl2">Mileson Edgar, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Philip Bowes Broke, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">Robert Trotman, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Charles Berners, jun., Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">John Bleadon, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">George Golding, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">John Cobbold, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">William Middleton, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">Thomas Green, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Eleazar Davy, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">Joseph Burch Smith, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">John Frere, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">Thomas Shaw, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Matthias Kerrison, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">John Vernon, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Wolfran Lewis, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">James Reeve, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">John Sheppard, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">James Stutter, Esq.</td></tr> +</table> +<p><br /></p> +<table width="60%" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="For the Liberty"> +<col width="50%" /> <col width="50%" /> +<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">FOR THE LIBERTY</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Sir Charles Bunbury, Bart.</td><td class="tdl2">Robert Walpole, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Sir Charles Davers, Bart.</td><td class="tdl2">James Oakes, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Sir Thomas Cullum, Bart.</td><td class="tdl2">Matthias Wright, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Sir Harry Parker, Bart.</td><td class="tdl2">Abraham Reeve, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Sir William Rowley, Bart.</td><td class="tdl2">John Oliver, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Nathaniel Lee Acton, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">John Pytches, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Capel Lofft, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">Thomas Cocksedge, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Samuel Brice, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">John Cooke, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">William Parker, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">George Jackson, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Richard Moore, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">William Kemp Jardine, Esq.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> + +<p>After the names had been respectively answered, the Lord Chief Baron +addressed the grand jury, in a most powerful and impressive speech, in +which he pointed out to their attention the extraordinary case then +about to come on for trial. The grand jury retired. The prisoners were +led into the cages, under the body of the court, where the people sat. +They could hear all the proceedings, and could see, through an iron +grating, all the witnesses in attendance. After the petty jury had been +sworn, and had appointed John Bloomfield, auctioneer and farmer, their +foreman, they took their seats, and various true bills were handed into +court against the prisoners, whose trials then came on. After an hour or +two, a paper was handed from the grand jury box, to the clerk of +arraigns; it was announced as “a true bill against Margaret Catchpole, +for horse-stealing.” She presently after heard herself summoned by name; +and with trembling hand and foot, ascended the steps of the dock, and +stood before the bar. The court was crowded to excess, and upon the +bench sat more ladies than gentlemen. The judge cast a severe glance at +the prisoner, evidently expecting to find a bold, athletic female, of a +coarse and masculine appearance. Margaret was dressed in a plain blue +cotton gown, and appeared deeply dejected. She seemed to be inwardly +engaged in prayer. Once she looked round the court, to see if she could +discover the person of her lover, or the instigator to the crime for +which she was arraigned. Her eye rested only upon her aged father and +her affectionate brother Edward, who stood beneath her, close to the +bar. The workings of nature were too powerful to be resisted, and tears +rolled down the old man’s cheeks, as he gave his hand to his daughter. +She kissed it, and let fall upon it the hot drops of agony.</p> + +<p>“Prisoner at the bar, you stand committed upon your own confession, +before two of his majesty’s justices of the peace for the county of +Middlesex, of having, on the night of the 23rd of May last past,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> stolen +from the stable of your late master, John Cobbold, Esq., of St. +Margaret’s Green, Ipswich, a strawberry roan-grey coach gelding, and of +having rode the same from Ipswich to London that night; and being in the +act of selling the horse next day following, when you were taken into +custody. For this offence you now stand before the court. How say you, +prisoner at the bar, are you guilty, or not guilty?”</p> + +<p>Margaret looked at her judge, and in a firm though low voice said, +"Guilty, my lord.”</p> + +<p>“Prisoner at the bar,” resumed the judge, “though you have made this +confession, you are at liberty to retract it, and to plead, ‘Not +Guilty,’ if you please, and so to take your trial. Your plea of ‘Guilty’ +will avail you nothing in the sentence which must follow. Consider then +your answer.”</p> + +<p>Margaret replied, “I am not able now, my lord, to plead ‘Not Guilty.’”</p> + +<p>“Why not?” said the judge.</p> + +<p>“Because I know that I am ‘Guilty.’”</p> + +<p>This was too sound an argument to be disputed; and the judge did not +attempt any further explanation.</p> + +<p>Margaret’s appearance was not remarkable for beauty, nor was it by any +means unpleasing. Her figure was not masculine. She was tall, and rather +slender. She had a dark eye, dark hair, and a countenance pale from +emotion.</p> + +<p>The judge then addressed her in the following words:—"Prisoner at the +bar, it is my painful duty to address one of your sex in such a +situation. I cannot possibly judge of your motives for committing such a +crime. They do not appear in your confession, and I am at a loss to +conceive what can have induced you to commit it. The sentence to which +you have subjected yourself is death. Have you anything to say why this +sentence of the law should not be passed upon you? Have you any friends +in court to speak to your character?”</p> + +<p>There was evidently a stir in the body of the court, and several persons +were seen crowding forward to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> witness-box, and all ready to enter +it. At this juncture the prisoner expressed a wish to know if she might +speak a few words to the judge.</p> + +<p>“Prisoner at the bar,” said the Chief Baron, “I am quite ready to hear +what you have to say.”</p> + +<p>There was now a hushed and breathless silence in the court, and the +prisoner spoke calmly, clearly, and audibly, in the following words:—</p> + +<p>“My lord, I am not going to say anything in defence of my conduct, or to +make any excuse whatever for my crimes. I told your lordship that I was +guilty, and guilty I feel that I am. It is not for my own sake, either, +that I am speaking, but that all in this court may take warning from my +bad example. A kinder master and mistress no servant ever had, nor had +ever master or mistress a more ungrateful servant. I have long since +condemned myself, and more severely than your lordship can do it. I know +my crime, and I know its punishment. I feel that, even if the law +acquitted me, my own conscience would still condemn me. But your +lordship may proceed to pass sentence upon my body. I have already felt +assurance of some peace and mercy where I alone could look for it, and +thanks be to God I have not sought it in vain. It has prepared me for +this moment. My master and mistress have forgiven me. Oh! that all +against whom I have offended by my bad example could here do the same! I +do not ask forgiveness of the law, because I have no right to do so. I +have offended, and am subject to the penalty of death. If your lordship +should even change my sentence, and send me out of the country for life, +I should rather choose death, at this time, than banishment from my +father and my friends. Temptation would no longer assail me, and I shall +hope to see them, and all whom I now see before me, in a better world. I +hope your lordship will forgive my words, though you must condemn me for +my actions.”</p> + +<p>To attempt a description of the effect of these few words upon the court +would be impossible. The ladies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> hoped that mercy would be extended to +her. The judge looked at her with mingled astonishment and pity.</p> + +<p>“Are there any persons present,” said the judge, “who are ready to speak +to the previous character of the prisoner?” Whereupon the prosecutor, +her master, immediately ascended the witness-box. He stated that the +prisoner had, during the time she lived in his service, always +discharged her duty faithfully. He had reason to believe that she was +neither a hardened nor an abandoned character. He knew from experience +that she was most humane and faithful, and ready to risk her own life in +the service of another. He here mentioned her presence of mind, and the +intrepidity she had so signally displayed in saving the lives of his +children. He stated, moreover, that, for his own part, he never should +have prosecuted the prisoner but that the magistrates in London had +bound him over so to do, and a sense of duty compelled him to adopt this +course. He should always entertain, under all circumstances, a grateful +recollection of her. He particularly recommended her to mercy, because +he did not believe that she had committed the crime in question in +conjunction with any gang of horse-stealers, but that she was the dupe +of an infamous villain, who had persuaded her to steal the horse for +him, and for no pecuniary benefit to herself. He believed her to be a +proper object for royal clemency, and hoped that if his lordship could +find any mitigating circumstances in her favour, that he would give her +the full benefit of them.</p> + +<p>George Stebbing, Esq., surgeon, Ipswich, stated that he had known the +prisoner from her childhood; that in her earliest years she gave promise +of such good character and conduct as would have merited the approbation +of all men. He mentioned her riding the pony to Ipswich.</p> + +<p>Margaret put her head down upon the bar, and, hiding her face in her +hands, sobbed audibly before the whole court.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p> + +<p>The doctor stated that, if she was at that moment at liberty, he would +take her into his own house. He assured his lordship that it was a +romantic hope of seeing her lover, that induced her to listen to the +voice of the tempter who induced her to steal the horse. He prayed for +mercy for her, and handed a petition to the court, signed by many +persons who knew her early history, and bore testimony to her former +good character.</p> + +<p>Her uncle and aunt Leader next spoke in the highest terms of her general +good character. Her first mistress at the Priory Farm gave her also an +excellent character for honesty and humanity, and assured his lordship +that it was an early but unfortunate attachment which had been the cause +of this rash act; adding, that neither she nor her husband would object +to take the prisoner again into their service.</p> + +<p>Several other persons spoke in her favour, and so cordial and so earnest +had been the testimony borne to her character, that in almost every +breast a hope began to prevail that mercy would be extended to her.</p> + +<p>The judge took an unusually long time for deliberation. He was in +conversation with the high sheriff, but what passed between them did not +transpire. The longer he delayed his judgement, the stronger grew the +hopes of mercy. At last, turning round to the body of the court, he +looked for one most awful moment steadfastly at the prisoner; and, when +every eye was riveted upon him, he was seen to take the black cap from +beneath his desk, and to place it upon his head. That dreadful +forerunner of impending condemnation struck forcibly upon the hearts of +all the people assembled. Some ladies fainted, and were carried out of +court. The most perfect stillness ensued, as the Lord Chief Baron +addressed the unhappy creature in the following words:—</p> + +<p>“Prisoner at the bar, I have paid attention to your address to me, and +to those around you, and am glad to find that you have made a proper use +of the time which has intervened between your committal to prison<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> and +the present moment. Your words show that you are by no means ignorant of +your duty as a member of society, and that you are possessed of strong +sense and much good feeling. I earnestly wish that your conduct had not +been such as to belie that good sense which you possess. It is, however, +the more inexcusable in one who, at the time she was committing an +offence, must have known its heinousness. Your sin, prisoner at the bar, +has found you out quickly, and judgement as speedily follows. I will not +aggravate those feelings of remorse which I am sure you experience, by +any longer dwelling upon the painful situation in which your crimes have +placed you. I trust your own persuasive words will be long remembered by +every one present, and be a warning to all how they suffer themselves to +be betrayed into crime. May your early fate warn them in time to keep +themselves in the path of rectitude and honesty.</p> + +<p>“I must say that, in the whole course of my judicial career, I have +never met with a person who so well knew right from wrong, and who so +extraordinarily perverted that gift. I must say, likewise, that I have +never met with any one who has received so good a former character at +such a moment as the present. The representations that have been made of +your past conduct shall be forwarded to the king, with whom alone the +prerogative of mercy in your case exists.</p> + +<p>“It would be cruelty, however, in me did I not candidly tell you, that +the crime for which you are now to suffer is one of such frequent, bold, +and in this day, daring commission, as to defy the authority of the law; +so that persons detected and brought to judgement, as you are, stand but +little chance of mercy. It is not in my power to give you any hope of +escaping the full punishment of the law, but I will represent your case +this very night, before I sleep, to the proper quarter whence any +alteration in your behalf can alone be obtained.</p> + +<p>“I need scarcely tell you not to rely upon any false hopes which friends +may hold out to you, who would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> grieve the more could they see the +danger and distress which they thereby occasion. Let me rather entreat +you to continue that attention to the interest of your soul which has +already been well instructed and fortified against the present crisis. +You have to prepare, prisoner at the bar, for a greater trial, a more +awful moment; and I hope you will make good use of the short time which +remains in preparation for eternity. You appear to have been well +assisted hitherto, and the good instruction seems to have fallen upon +productive ground. I hope the increase will continue to the day of your +death.</p> + +<p>“It only remains for me to fulfil my duty, by passing the sentence of +the court upon you, which is—</p> + +<p>“That you be taken from the place where you now stand, back to the place +whence you came, and thence to the place of execution, and there be +hanged by the neck until you be dead; and may God have mercy upon your +soul!”</p> + +<p>At these last words tears of agony overwhelmed many in the court; but +Margaret herself seemed to be less overcome by the sentence than by the +kind words of the judge.</p> + +<p>She respectfully curtsied to him and the court, and, in the act of +retiring, fell into her father’s arms. She was conveyed back to the gaol +in a swoon.</p> + +<p>In the meantime every exertion was made to represent her case favourably +to the judge. A petition was signed by many of the grand jury, as well +as the petty jury, in her behalf, and strong hopes were entertained of a +reprieve.</p> + +<p>These things were not mentioned to the prisoner, who returned to the +cell of condemned felons, to employ her time in “seeking that peace +which the world cannot give.”</p> + +<p>A keeper constantly attended her, and a female sat up with her all that +night. She requested to have a Bible, and pen, ink, and paper: these +were granted her. She did not sleep, but read the Sacred Book, sometimes +aloud, sometimes to herself. She also<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> seemed to find great relief in +writing to her friends. One letter which she wrote to her uncle, and +another to her mistress, on that very night, will best evince the state +of her mind and feelings.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“<span class="smcap">My dear Uncle</span>,</p> + +<p>“This will reach you to-morrow before you leave Bury. Give my love +and best thanks to my aunt and friends who spoke this day in behalf +of your unhappy niece; but, when you arrive at Ipswich, be sure and +call and thank that dear old gentleman, Doctor Stebbing. I know he +feels very much for me, but tell him not to distress himself, as if +I were to be lost for ever. Tell him I hope to see him in a better +world. He has been very kind to me in those days when I was most +forlorn, and my Saviour, who then guided me to him, will give him +his reward. For He says, that a cup of cold water given to one of +His most poor and wretched children, shall not be forgotten.</p> + +<p>“Dear uncle, show this letter to the gentleman in whose hands you +have placed the money which I gave you for such purpose, and tell +him that I wish it to be restored to William Laud, its rightful +owner, if he can be found, and will receive it again. If he is not +found, after my death, within the space of one year, I wish it to +be divided into four equal portions: one for my father, one for my +brother Edward, one for yourself, and one for my aunt.</p> + +<p>“Do not mourn for me, dear uncle, for I sincerely believe in God’s +forgiveness of my past sins, through the merits of Jesus Christ, my +Saviour. My prayer to God is, ‘Increase my faith, O Lord! and +pardon me, as thou didst the malefactor upon the cross;’ for I +feel, dear uncle, as if I was justly in that thief’s condemnation. +I hope soon, very soon, to be in a better state, and in a happier +world. I wish you and my aunt to come to Ipswich and see me once +more before I suffer. Tell my aunt I wish her to purchase something +decent for my funeral. She will find some <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>money in the corner of +my box, under the linen. Oh! how little did he, who gave me that +money, and who so worthily esteemed me, how little did he think +that any portion of it would be devoted to such a purpose! My dear +uncle, go and comfort my poor father, and my good young brother: I +will write to them before another day is past. I wish my bones to +lie beside my mother’s and sister’s, in Nacton churchyard. I am +told that on Saturday week I shall probably suffer death. God grant +I may then be prepared!</p> + +<p>“We shall all return to Ipswich as soon as the nine prisoners, whom +Mr. Ripshaw brought to Bury, shall have been tried. Pray for me, +dear uncle! Warn the dear children by my fate. I should like to see +them myself. I wish I could impress upon their young minds the +dreadful feelings of guilt which I have endured, and so prevent +their commission of any crime. I am going to write now to my dear +mistress, and, as you return to-morrow, you must take that letter +and deliver it. God bless you, dear uncle! God’s peace be with you! +So no more from your poor affectionate niece,</p> + + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span></p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Bury Gaol</span>, August 9th, 1797.<br /> +"To <span class="smcap">Mr. Leader</span>, Six Bells Inn, Bury.” +<br /> +<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="center">"To <span class="smcap">Mrs. Cobbold</span>.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Honoured Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“My trial is over, and I dare say my dear master has already told +you the fate of your unhappy servant. He cannot, however, tell you +what I can, and what will better please your good heart than the +account of my trial, namely, that I am not so disconsolate as many +persons may think I am. No; God be praised, and thanks to those +dear friends who visited me in the Ipswich gaol; and chiefly thanks +to you, among them, my dear lady; my heart is <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>consoled with the +prospect of soon seeing better things than this wicked world can +show me. Oh! my dear lady, I hope to see you among those bright +shining spirits who live for ever in harmony and love. Oh! how +happy shall we then be, free from fear of pain or grief! I have +just been reading that beautiful passage, where it is written, ‘God +shall wipe all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more +death, neither sorrow nor crying; neither shall there be any more +pain.’ Oh! what a different world must that be to this; and what +should make us grieve to leave this world? It is only the fear of +future wrath that can prevent our joyfully looking up to heaven +through the valley of death. And, dearest lady, if such a wretched +being as I am can hope in that Saviour who died for me and all the +world, surely, you, dear lady, must have a bright, a pleasant +prospect, before you. Heaven bless you, for all your goodness to me +in the days of my prosperity, but more for your Christian charity +in the day of my adversity! The judge, who really, I think, +reminded me of you, told me I had been well instructed; I wish he +knew you, dear madam, and he would then be assured of it. Thank my +kind master for his goodness to his unworthy servant. I had no hope +of mercy from the first, and the judge told me not to trust in any +such idea in this world. He spoke much less severely than I +expected; but I was prepared for his condemnation, and I am now +preparing my mind for the day of execution. I find great comfort in +the Scriptures, because I have no secret pangs of unconfessed +guilt, or any wish in my heart to cover or palliate my offences. My +trial is over, and the same God who sustained me through it, will, +I hope, preserve my spirit faithful to the last. Every moment seems +valuable to me, dear lady, now that I know them to be so soon +numbered; and I scarcely like to lose one even in sleep. Nature, +however, is weary with fatigue and anxiety, though my spirit seems +so wakeful. If I go to sleep, it will be in prayer for you and all +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>my friends. That God may bless you and all your dear family, is +the heartfelt desire of your unfortunate, though ever grateful +servant,</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Bury Gaol</span>, August 9th, 1797.</p> + +<p>“P.S.—My good uncle Leader will bring this, of whom you can ask +any particulars, as he was in court during my trial.”</p> +</div> + +<p>On the 11th of August, a letter arrived from the Home Office, in London, +giving full powers to the judge to exercise the prerogative of mercy in +her case, as he might see fit. The judge was not in court at the time, +but in his own rooms. He sent immediately for the sheriff and the +prosecutor, Mr. Cobbold, and explained to them the purport of the letter +he had received. He thought, however, that some punishment should mark +the sense of crime. He therefore commuted the sentence of death for the +shortest period of transportation for seven years; and he signed the +necessary document for such purpose. He intimated that that period might +be shortened by the good conduct of the prisoner in gaol; for as there +was great difficulty now in sending prisoners to the new settlement, her +portion of confinement would most likely be spent in the Ipswich Gaol. +The judge added, that the woman appeared to be a most sensible creature; +and he made many most minute inquiries concerning her education and +habits. He said that she had conducted herself during her trial in a +very becoming manner, and he hoped that her punishment would end with +half the term of confinement. This would depend upon the representations +of the visiting magistrates.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV<br /><span style="font-size:70%">THE REPRIEVE AND REMOVAL</span></a></h2> + +<p>The feelings of Margaret Catchpole under the new circumstances which now +awaited her, will be best explained by a letter written by her to Mrs. +Cobbold immediately after the communication of the happy tidings, and +her consequent removal to Ipswich Gaol.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Ipswich Gaol</span>, Sunday Evening, August 13th, 1797.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Honoured Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“You have heard of your poor servant’s reprieve. I had no time to +write you word yesterday, because of the bustle of our return, and +the general congratulations of the prisoners. Mr. Ripshaw has +permitted me to have pen, ink, and paper, this evening, and I +hasten to write my heart. Good Mr. Sharp has been warning me +against too great exultation in my change, and very kindly says to +me in words of truth: ‘Sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon +thee.’ This was his subject in the chapel to-day. I certainly do, +even now, feel very different to what I did when I wrote to you +last, dear lady, from Bury. I had then made up my mind to die, and +hoped to live for ever. I now make up my mind to live; but I hope +not to die for ever. No, dear lady; if I thought that life being +granted to me now was only to make my future dangers greater, I +should grieve that I did not rather suffer before this time.</p> + +<p>“Life is sweet and to be desired, whilst the hope of becoming good, +and doing good in our time, exists. God grant that such hope may be +realized in my life! Oh! my dear lady, if by living I could only +imitate you more nearly, I should then be full of hope. I feel, +however, that temptation will assail me, when I leave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> this place +and enter again into the world. Here I am well taught and well +guarded against many temptations. I have many dear friends too, who +take such an interest in me, that I am afraid of being vain, though +God has shown me I have indeed nothing to be vain of, except it be +of such as you, dear lady, who take notice of such a creature as +myself.</p> + +<p>“Oh! what a happy Sabbath-day has this been to me! I am so thankful +that my heart can sing psalms all the day long. I am very grateful +for this paper and pen, that I may be able to speak to you, my dear +madam, in this way. You taught me to read and write, and these are +my great recreations. Pray lend me some good books to read, and if +you would let me see some of your own dear writing, it would be a +great blessing to me.</p> + +<p>“I have now seven years’ confinement to look forward to. Oh! that I +may greatly improve my time! Beneath your help, what may I not gain +in my prison! It may be some weeks before I see your dear, loved +face, as I hear that you are very near increasing your family. I +would not have you come into this place at such a time on any +account. But, as I am so near you, a word or a message, just to let +me know that you, my master, and family are well, would lighten my +burden.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Ripshaw has promised that I shall have plenty of employment. +Work of any sort, you know, dear lady, is always agreeable to me. +To be doing nothing is death to me. He tells me, moreover, that if +I conduct myself well, he will not fail to represent my case to the +magistrates for a shortening of the period of my captivity. I +received some hint of this from the chaplains at Bury. You may be +sure, dear lady, that I will do all I can to serve Mr. Ripshaw, and +to merit the recommendation of the magistrates. I hope your dear +children are well. I never was so happy as when nursing Master +Roland; I hope I shall see him soon again.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> +<p>“Pray, dear madam, give my duty to my master, and to the young +ladies and gentlemen; and accept the same from your ever grateful +servant,</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>."</p> +</div> + +<p>Margaret was true to her good intentions. She became very industrious +and trustworthy in the service of Mrs. Ripshaw, the governor’s wife; and +made herself useful in every possible way to her new mistress. In fact, +she became an invaluable person in the gaol. She exercised a moral +influence over those of her own sex who were inmates of the prison, such +as no matron could hope to attain.</p> + +<p>Her father and brother often came to see her, and occasionally they +brought her a luxury which reminded her of the days of liberty—"a +harvest cake.”</p> + +<p>The reader will not be surprised to learn that Margaret still, +sometimes, asked after Will Laud. Her brother could give her but an +indifferent account of what he heard of him; one question, however, of +most vital import to the still lingering hopes of poor Margaret, +namely—"Is he single still?” he could answer in the affirmative. As a +set-off against this, she learned that he was still deeply engaged in +smuggling transactions.</p> + +<p>In the winter of 1797, Margaret lost her father, who was taken off by a +bad fever, which at that time raged fiercely in the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>The following letter to her brother Edward speaks her feelings on this +event:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Ipswich Gaol</span>, December 21st, 1797.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Edward</span>,</p> + +<p>“My sins appear to me doubly great, because they have prevented my +fulfilling my duties to my dear father in his illness. They oppress +me, because, but for them, I should have found such comfort in +being able to wait upon him. Oh that I had wings to fly from this +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>place to Nacton! if only for once to be present at the last duties +we can any of us pay to those whom we love. But I cannot come, so I +send you this letter. My tears fall upon it, whilst I write it. He +was such a dear good old man to us all. Can I ever forget him? +Never! You and he both stood near me upon my trial.</p> + +<p>“Ah! Edward, I do think my ill-conduct has killed him. He was +always so fond of me, that I think he has never recovered the shock +of that day. Yet he seemed well, and rejoiced to see me, with the +hope of happier and brighter times. But he is gone, and all our +grief, dear brother, will be useless. If we continue to walk in the +right path, we shall meet him hereafter. We shall go to him; he +cannot come to us. Yet, I wish I could join you in the churchyard; +but I may not leave the prison for one moment. It is an indulgence +no prisoner is allowed. Mr. Ripshaw has promised me that I shall +have the afternoon of to-morrow to myself, which I shall employ in +reading, and thinking about the burial service.</p> + +<p>“Dear old man! he promised to spend Christmas-day with me in my +cell. He is in a happier place, where joy and peace will make every +day his Christmas. I shall think of you to-morrow at two o’clock. +Do you remember, Edward, the evening of our mother’s funeral? Do +you remember the stranger’s visit, and that stranger our brother +Charles? This melancholy time reminds me of him. You will have a +dreary home now. Oh that I had power to make it happier!</p> + +<p>“I am glad the Cracknells are still near you, and that they are +kind to you; though their misfortunes and mine have kept pace with +each other. Never mind, Edward, what cruel people say to you about +their prophecies concerning my downfall. They only tell you these +things to aggravate you. The time may come when they will +impudently say, they prophesied my rise and progress in the world. +I hope better days are coming.</p> + +<p>“You must come and see me as soon as you can; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>for I feel at this +time very low and sorrowful. So my dear brother, do come and see +me, when you are able to spare the time. Pray for me, and I will +not cease to do so for you. My dear mistress has promised to send +this by an especial messenger. How kind of her to think of one so +unworthy as your affectionate sister,</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>.”</p> +</div> + +<p>In the spring of 1798, Edward Catchpole, finding the notoriety his +sister had obtained occasioned him much annoyance, left the +neighbourhood of Ipswich, and went into Cambridgeshire, where he +obtained a situation as shepherd, and was always a respectable +character. Poor Margaret felt this loss keenly, though a letter from him +now and then cheered her spirits.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> + +<p>Her kind friends in Ipswich made her many little presents, which she +treasured up against the time she should go out. She hoped it might be +in three years. Inquiries were frequently made concerning her conduct, +which was uniformly orderly and good. She was the most useful person +that Mrs. Ripshaw ever had in the prison.</p> + +<p>Margaret never made use of one single shilling of that money which Laud +had thrown down for her. She always thought that the time would come +when it might be claimed; and looked upon it as a sort of confidential +deposit, for which she was answerable. No individual could have acted +with more scrupulous and faithful regard.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> + +<p>Time swept on, and Margaret had spent two years of good conduct in the +Ipswich gaol. The magistrates had told Mr. Ripshaw they should recommend +her at the Midsummer assizes, when she was mentioned in high terms to +the Lord Chief Baron. But the crime of horse-stealing still continued, +day by day, to be a growing evil; and, as if Margaret was made to feel +the consequence of others’ crimes, no mitigation of her sentence was yet +granted. It had been injudiciously told her by some friend, who, no +doubt, meant it kindly, that an application had been made to the judge +for the shortening of the period of her imprisonment. This made her feel +very anxious; and it proved a great disappointment to her when she found +that the interest made in her behalf was ineffectual. Her mind was +unhinged, and her spirit grew restless, anxious, and oppressed. Her +mistress observed these symptoms with concern, and dreaded a return of +that irritability which had formerly rendered her so miserable.</p> + +<p>But where was William Laud? At his old trade. He was deeply concerned in +that affair at Dunwich, where William Woodward and Benjamin Lawsey, two +boatmen belonging to his majesty’s Customs at Southwold, were beaten and +thrown into the sea; and the government offered one hundred pounds +reward for the apprehension of any one of the offenders. Forty empty +carts were seen by these two men, standing ready for a run, with horses +and men in a lane at Dunwich. The reward was offered in the county +newspapers of the date of March 2nd, 1799.</p> + +<p>Such a system of open fraud was carried on along the whole coast of +Norfolk and Suffolk about this time, that the revenue of the kingdom +began to suffer severely in the customs. In the month of March of the +second year of her imprisonment, Mr. Gooch, officer of excise at +Lowestoft, and Mr. Burdell, of Aldborough, seized 880 gallons of gin, +belonging to Will Laud and his company; and the evidence brought the +affair so clearly home to him that he was taken up and sentenced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> to be +imprisoned one year in the Ipswich gaol, and to pay a fine of one +hundred pounds to the king. His property was seized and confiscated; +smuggled goods were found upon his premises, and he became a penniless +bankrupt, and an inmate of that very prison where the devoted Margaret +was suffering on his account.</p> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV<br /><span style="font-size:70%">THE ESCAPE</span></a></h2> + +<p>Margaret had not heard of the capture of Laud; and he, even in his then +degraded condition, looked upon it as a thing not to be desired that she +should hear of. She had been engaged in washing for Mrs. Ripshaw. At +that time the large linen-horses belonging to the gaol stood in the +passage between the debtors’ and felons’ yards. Margaret had occasion to +remove those horses into the drying-ground. For this purpose she had to +pass through the governor’s apartment into the thoroughfare between +these two yards. A strong palisade of oak, with sharp tenter-hooks on +their tops, stood on each side of this stone passage, leading from the +turnkey’s lodge to the governor’s rooms at the centre of the prison. As +Margaret was in the act of removing one of these horses, she saw a +sailor standing by the wall on the debtors’ side. A sailor in prison +would interest her at any time; but this sailor looked so very like Will +Laud that she stood still with astonishment. He evidently saw her, and +as he approached toward the place where she stood, her heart was +convulsively beating, and a tremor came over her limbs. He came nearer: +it was Laud. She saw him again after the lapse of years; him whom her +earliest and warmest feelings had acknowledged as her lover. She had +never in her heart deserted him for an hour; yet he had hardly ever been +constant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> to anything. He approached, however, and Margaret, pretending +to be engaged in removing the linen-horses, felt her hands and feet +tremble exceedingly. She heard the well-known voice, which sounded like +music in her ears, say, “Margaret, is that you? How are you, Peggy?” She +tried all she could to summon courage to speak, but her heart was so +full, her breast heaved so rapidly, that she could not utter a word; +tears stood in her eyes, and she tried to smile through them; but, in +the act of lifting one of those great horses off the pegs, her hands and +knees could not support the weight, but down fell the horse upon her, +and cast her, with considerable force and clatter upon the stone-flag +pavement.</p> + +<p>The noise of the fall brought out the governor and the turnkey at the +same moment, who, both concluding that the weight had overpowered her, +ran to her assistance, whilst the sailor, well knowing he could be of no +use, walked quietly away. No one in the gaol knew that he was Margaret’s +lover. She was carried into the governor’s house. The turnkey said he +had often removed the horses, considering they were too heavy for a +female to lift, though they were frequently carried by them. Margaret +told Mr. Ripshaw that the over-exertion had for a moment produced a +dizziness in her head, and a sudden faintness came upon her before she +fell. She dreaded, however, lest any one should imagine the real cause +of her accident. Her friend, the surgeon of the gaol, Mr. George +Stebbing, was sent for; and when he saw her he bled her, considering +that she had received some internal injury. It was a good thing he did +so, for it reduced her to such real weakness as confined her some days +to her bed, and afforded time for reflection.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ripshaw had promised Mrs. Cobbold, that if Margaret should be ill +at any time she would let her know it, and she now fulfilled that +promise. She sent her a note to tell her how the accident occurred, and +how she was. Mrs. Cobbold came immediately, and found her in an +unaccountable state of agitation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> She at once asked Margaret if +anything particular had occurred, but she elicited nothing satisfactory.</p> + +<p>No one in the gaol except Margaret knew Will Laud, and no one took any +particular notice of him but her. A letter, which was afterwards found +upon his person, shows how truly that poor girl had loved so unworthy a +man. Opportunities of occasional words were at different times offered +and seized upon by them, though these were few and far between. By +these, however, Margaret learned that he was a ruined man, sentenced to +a year’s imprisonment, and to pay a fine of one hundred pounds to the +king; that in all probability his confinement might be for years, as +everything he possessed had been confiscated; his boats, ships, and +stock, had been seized; and yet imprisonment was to continue till the +penalty was paid.</p> + +<p>The letter which Margaret wrote to him about this period, and contrived +to give into his hands, showed how deeply she entered into his past as +well as present feelings, and is a noble specimen of her devoted +affection:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Felons’ Cell</span>, Jan. 10th, 1800.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear William</span>,</p> + +<p>“You may guess my surprise to hear you say that John Cook knew +nothing about you; that he invented a lie to get me to steal the +horse. This accords, however, with my beloved mistress’s opinion. +Oh! how glad I am that I did not let out the secret that I had +money of yours in hand! I should have lost everything if I had. He, +a villain, induced me to go to London with the hope of seeing you +at the Dog and Bone, Lambeth. He told me that you were hiding from +the fear of arrest, and had confided to him your place of safety. +He even showed me a letter purporting to come from you. Oh! what an +artful villain!—what punishment he deserves!</p> + +<p>“But, dear William, make yourself easy about the fine. I will send +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>for my uncle Leader before the time of your imprisonment expires, +and the hundred and thirty guineas shall be given up to you. He +shall pay the fine for you, and shall give you the remainder. You +will own now that I am trustworthy. Oh! how happy I am that I did +not make away with it, nor suffer others to do so! I kept it for +you, and it comes into use at the moment it is most wanted. Nobody +need know how it is disposed of; only remember your poor Margaret, +that she longs for the shortening of her confinement, that she may +join herself with your fortunes wherever they may be.</p> + +<p>“You will soon regain your liberty. I may have to complete my seven +years here. But will you be faithful and wait for me? You promise +fairly. You say you will live at Sudbourn, and try to get an honest +living. Every hour of the day I am thinking about you; and at night +I dream sometimes that I am sailing upon the ocean with you; +sometimes that I am living with my father and brother. But dreams +are deceitful. I hope you will never prove such to me again. I am +willing to join my fate to yours whenever I obtain my release. Pray +God that may be soon. Oh! that it could come on the day of your own +release! but come or not then, believe me ever</p> + +<table class="signature40" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>"Your affectionate</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad6"><span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>.”</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p>Not long after the date of this letter, application was made to the +Secretary of State for her pardon; but, unfortunately for her, the same +causes which had operated against her before still prevailed. The crime +of horse-stealing was at this date at its highest pitch, and depredators +of this kind became so bold, that it was thought necessary to give a +positive denial to the application in Margaret’s favour. The prospect of +her release, therefore, did not appear a bright one, and every month +seemed to make it less probable.</p> + +<p>The time for the departure of Laud out of prison now drew nigh, and +Margaret wrote to her uncle,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> requesting him to come and see her, which +he did; and she then gave him full powers to withdraw the 130 guineas +from Mr. Smith, and requested him to pay £100 into the hands of Mr. +Ripshaw on a certain day; namely, the 5th of March, the day previous to +Laud’s term of imprisonment expiring.</p> + +<p>Mr. Leader was well assured that she would never draw the money, except +to restore it to Will Laud. He asked her the plain question. She gave +him an honest answer. She told him that Will was then in prison, and +that his liberty depended upon the punctuality of the payment. Her +honesty with her uncle saved her from detection, for, in all +probability, had not Mr. Leader had more prudence than she had, it might +have been suspected by the gaoler. He at once suggested that Mr. Smith, +who was not known to have any connexion with her, should be requested to +pay the fine to Mr. Ripshaw, in behalf of the prisoner. It struck +Margaret, the moment it was mentioned, and she felt surprised that the +hurry and anxiety of her own feelings should have so greatly blinded her +as to leave her destitute of common prudence in this matter.</p> + +<p>It was on the 3rd of March, in the year 1800, that Margaret was destined +to undergo the severest temptation she had ever yet experienced. She had +been employed in washing for the prisoners, and was engaged hanging out +the linen in the passage on one of the clothes-horses used for that +purpose, when she was accosted from the debtors’ side in a well-known +voice, “Margaret! what a capital ladder one of those horses would make, +if set against the wall!”</p> + +<p>She turned round, and there stood Will Laud. Cautiously she looked along +the passage to see if any one was near. She pretended to be busily +engaged; at the same time she said,—</p> + +<p>“Ah, William! I understand you. I wish I could make my escape with you, +and I would; but I fear the thing is too difficult.”</p> + +<p>“You might manage it, Margaret, when the governor goes to Bury with the +prisoners.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> + +<p>“How, William! How?”</p> + +<p>“You have the horse, and you have the linen line. Look around the wall, +and see if you cannot find a place of escape. You must be tired of your +captivity. I owe my liberty to you; and if I can once get you out of +this place, no power on earth shall separate us again.”</p> + +<p>“But where should I go, William, if I got out?”</p> + +<p>“To my sister’s at Sudbourn, Lucy Keeley. I will tell her to expect +you.”</p> + +<p>“That would do. I will look round and see if it can be done. On the 19th +or 20th of this month, Mr. Ripshaw goes to Bury with the prisoners. On +Monday the 24th, and Tuesday the 25th, are our two great washing days. +It must be one of those nights. Will you be waiting for me at the end of +the lane, near St. Helen’s Church?”</p> + +<p>“I will be waiting for you, never fear. I will have a sailor’s jacket +and hat to disguise you in.”</p> + +<p>“Well, the trial is worth the risk. I will confide in you once more, +Laud; but if you deceive me, then, indeed, I care not what becomes of +me. But I will trust you. Go!—There is some one coming.”</p> + +<p>Laud departed, and Margaret busied herself with the linen. That day she +had many things given her to mend. She contrived also to get a candle, +under the pretence of working late. And such was the confidence which +was placed in her, and such the quantity of work she performed, that she +was trusted beyond any other prisoner in the house.</p> + +<p>Margaret knew nothing of the penalty the law would compel her to pay for +breaking out of prison. She knew nothing of the bond by which the gaoler +was bound, in case of the escape of any of his prisoners. She saw but +her lover and liberty, and did not suppose it any great offence, even if +she should be detected in the attempt.</p> + +<p>Her uncle Leader paid her a visit on the 5th, and gave her the thirty +guineas, telling her that the hundred guineas were lodged in the hands +of Mr. Ripshaw for the discharge of Will Laud.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I will give William this money myself,” thought Margaret; but she +breathed not one word of her intended escape to her uncle; and the good +man left her with the conscious happiness, that let her term of +confinement be what it might, she had been instrumental in procuring the +release of her lover.</p> + +<p>It was a proud day for Margaret, that 6th of March, 1800. From the +felons’ side she could see her lover depart out of gaol in company with +Mr. Ripshaw. She saw him go to the turnkey’s lodge; and with a heart at +the same time bounding with the hope of liberty, she walked quietly +round the felons’ yard, looking anxiously up at those long spikes to see +where the widest place could be found for her to get her body through. +That very hour she discovered a place where one of the spikes had been +broken off. She looked at it and sighed. She was very thoughtful about +it. It dwelt upon her mind night and day, till she had fully resolved to +make the attempt at that very spot.</p> + +<p>At night, and early in the morning, she was at work for herself. Out of +one sheet she contrived to make a smock-frock, such as shepherds wear +over their clothes. Out of the other she made a pair of sailor’s +trousers. These she laid upon her bed in such an ingenious manner, that +no one going into her cell would discover any difference in the usual +make of it.</p> + +<p>Anxiously did she watch the hours for the departure of Mr. Ripshaw with +the prisoners for trial at Bury. In the very cell next to her own was a +felon to be taken away. The anxious time came, and Margaret saw the +governor and prisoners take their departure.</p> + +<p>Meantime, Laud, directly he left the gaol, went to his sister’s house at +Sudbourn. He reached that place the same night. He told his sister who +it was that had paid the fine for him, and thus completely won her heart +for Margaret. His plan was fixed to get off with Margaret in a +smuggler’s boat, and get a cast to Holland, where he intended to marry +and settle. He told<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> his sister his plan, and she approved it, and +promised to receive Margaret.</p> + +<p>He was not long in ascertaining what boats were expected on the coast. +He had an interview with one David Shaw, the master of a cutter +belonging to Captain Merrells, and with him came to an understanding +that, some day after the 25th, when wind and weather should suit, he +should send a boat ashore for him. A red handkerchief tied round his hat +should be the signal that he was ready. He told him that he should be +accompanied by a friend, whom he wished to go over the water with him. +All these things were arranged, and, as far as they went, were in some +sense honourable. In the meantime he promised to assist in landing any +cargoes along the shore. And this part of the contract he performed.</p> + +<p>On the 19th of March, Mr. Ripshaw, with seven prisoners, departed for +Bury. The business of the assizes began on Thursday, the 20th, and did +not terminate until that day week, the 27th. On Monday and Tuesday the +wash took place. On these occasions the female convicts are all locked +up in one large room, from seven o’clock in the morning until seven in +the evening; their food being brought to them in the washing-room. At +seven in the evening they all go into the felons’ yard for exercise and +air. They usually give their signal that the wash is finished by rapping +the door about seven o’clock. This evening, Tuesday, the 25th, Margaret +contrived by various means to prolong the wash till nearly eight +o’clock, and as she had some kind of acknowledged authority and +influence among her fellow-convicts, she insisted upon the signal not +being given till the work was completely finished; so that at eight +o’clock it was quite dark. They were let out of the room into the +felons’ squo; yard at that time for one half hour. Some were accustomed to +saunter about, or to have a game of romps. Some, when the season +admitted, would weed the flower-beds; for Mr. Ripshaw was a great fancy +florist, and used to raise the best ranun<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>culuses, carnations, and +polyanthuses, of any person in the town. His garden adjoined the felons’ +walk, and was only separated from it by a very low paling. Margaret had +continual access to the garden, and used to take considerable interest +in the culture of the plants.</p> + +<p>She was greatly disappointed to find that all the linen-horses stood on +the stone area, between the debtors’ and felons’ yards. She had hoped +that they would have been carried by the turnkey to the drying ground in +the garden, as usual, ready for the linen in the morning. Owing to some +cause or other, they were not there that night.</p> + +<p>This was a sad disappointment, for she had made up her mind to escape +that very night. Could she be suspected? Had anybody betrayed her? No, +it was impossible. As the turnkey passed the palings she cried out to +him, “You have not put out the horses for us to-night?”</p> + +<p>“No, Margaret,” he replied, “we have all been too busy cleaning the +cells and yards; but they shall be put out the first thing in the +morning.”</p> + +<p>The reply was both satisfactory and unsatisfactory. It convinced her she +was not suspected; but declared that she must expect no help from the +linen-horses. She was glad, however, to see that the lines were on the +posts for the coarse linen, and the crotches, or props, in their proper +places.</p> + +<p>She looked around for something to help her. The gaol wall was nearly +twenty-two feet high, and the <i>chevaux de frise</i> three feet from the +point of one revolving spike to its extreme point. What could she get to +assist her? At one time she thought of pulling up a portion of the +paling for a ladder. She tried her strength at it, but it was too much +for her. She then turned her eye upon a large frame, which was used for +the flower-beds. It covered a long bed, and the awning usually placed +upon it to keep the sun off the flowers in the summer was not there. She +tried her strength at this, and lifted the legs upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> which it stood +about a foot upwards. This she resolved to make her ladder. She looked +up at the narrow spot where the iron spike had been broken, and which +was close to the shoulder or prop of the <i>chevaux de frise</i>. Hope beamed +brightly upon her as she thought of her liberty. Margaret resolved to +make the attempt at midnight. At half-past eight the convicts all went +in to supper, and afterwards retired to their cells. But Margaret, the +moment she reached hers, contrived to slip out of it again, with the +things she had made for her disguise, into the adjoining one, which +stood open; and she crept under the bed of the felon who was gone to +Bury for trial. She had, as usual, closed her own door, and lay +anxiously waiting in her hiding place the turnkey’s approach. She heard +him coming along, and asking the several prisoners, as he came, if they +were in their cells. They answered his summons, and then she heard them +locked up; and now came the challenge to her own door.</p> + +<p>“Margaret, are you there?”</p> + +<p>She put her lips to the wall of the cell where she was, and answered, +"Yes.” It sounded exactly as if she was in bed in her own cell; and to +her great joy she heard the key turn in the iron lock, and the bolt +shoot into its place. She breathed for a moment freely, but the next +moment she experienced such a sudden revulsion as few could have borne +without detection. To her confusion and dismay, the turnkey entered the +very cell where she lay concealed under the bed. He walked up to the +iron-grated window, and, as usual, the casement stood open for the +benefit of air through the passage, and, in a soliloquizing manner, +said, “Ah! poor Sarah! you will never sleep upon this bed again!”</p> + +<p>In breathless agony did Margaret dread two things equally fatal to her +project. One was, that he should hear her breath in the stillness of the +night, and discover her; the other, that he should lock the door upon +her. She knew that it was not usual to lock the doors of those cells +which contained no prisoners, but she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> dreaded lest the same absence of +mind which made him saunter into Sarah Lloyd’s cell should make him look +the door. What a state of suspense! How did her blood course through her +frame! she could hear her heart beat! She was presently relieved from +her suspense, for the turnkey, having completed his duty in locking up +all his prisoners, quietly departed out of the cell, and left the door, +as usual, standing wide open. Never was relief more opportune or welcome +than this to her overcharged heart. The clock struck the hours of nine, +ten, and eleven, and Margaret had not stirred. She now rose, took her +shoes in her hand, and her bundle under her arm; she then managed to tie +it up with an apron-string over her shoulders, and, with the slightest +tread, stole along the stone passage. A mouse would scarcely have been +disturbed by her as she descended the front of steps that led to the +felons’ yard.</p> + +<p>To her great comfort she found the door unbolted; for the turnkey, +having locked every one up, saw no necessity for bolting the yard door. +Silently she opened it; it creaked so little, that the wind prevented +any sound reaching beyond the precincts of the door. She made her way to +the flower-stand in the governor’s garden, lifted the frame out of the +ground and set it up endways directly under the broken spike. It reached +a little more than half way up the wall, being about thirteen feet long. +She then went and took the linen line off the posts, and made a running +noose at one end of it. She then took the longest clothes-prop she could +find, and passed the noose over the horn of it. She mounted the frame by +the help of the prop, and standing upon it she lifted the line up and +passed the noose over the shoulder of the <i>chevaux de frise</i>, then, +pulling it tight and close to the wall, it slipped down the iron and +became fixed.</p> + +<p>Now came the greatest difficulty she had ever overcome in her life. She +drew herself up by the line to the top of the wall, and laying her body +directly upon the roller where the spike was broken, with the help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> of +one hand grasping the shoulder of iron, she balanced herself until she +had pulled up all the line and let it fall down the other side of the +wall; then, taking hold of the rope with both hands, she bent her body +forward, and the whole body of spikes revolved, turning her literally +heels over head on the outer side of the gaol wall. Was there ever such +a desperate act performed by any woman before? Had not the fact been +proved beyond all doubt, the statement might be deemed incredible. But +Margaret Catchpole did exactly as here described; and after the +oscillation of her body was over from the jerk, she quietly let herself +down in perfect safety on the other side.</p> + +<p>Just as she alighted on the earth St. Clement’s chimes played for twelve +o’clock. It was a gently sloping bank from the wall, and a dry fosse, +which she crossed, easily climbed over the low wooden palings against +the road, and made her way for the lane against St. Helen’s church. +There she found Will Laud in readiness to receive her, which he did with +an ardour and devotion that told he was sincere.</p> + +<p>They fled to an empty cart-shed on the Woodbridge road. Here Laud kept +watch at the entrance whilst Margaret put on her sailor’s dress. She +soon made her appearance on the road with her white trousers, hat, and +blue jacket, looking completely like a British tar. They did not wait to +be overtaken, but off they started for Woodbridge, and arrived at the +ferry just as the dawning streaks of daylight began to tinge the east. +Their intention was to cross the Sutton Walks and Hollesley Heath to +Sudbourn. Unluckily for them, however, who should they meet at the ferry +but old Robinson Crusoe, the fisherman, who, having been driven round +the point at Felixstowe, was compelled to come up the Deben to +Woodbridge for the sale of his fish. The old man gave them no sign of +recognition, but he knew them both, and, with a tact that few possessed, +saw how the wind blew. But without speaking to either of them, he +proceeded with his basket to the town.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> + +<p>At this they both rejoiced, and as they took their journey across that +barren tract of land, it seemed to them like traversing a flowery mead.</p> +<hr class="chap" /> + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI<br /><span style="font-size:70%">PURSUIT AND CAPTURE</span></a></h2> + +<p>The morning after Margaret’s escape the turnkey was alarmed by the call +of the gardener, who came early to the prison to prune some trees in the +governor’s garden. He told the turnkey there was a rope hanging down the +wall, as if some one had escaped during the night. They soon discovered +the frame against the wall; footmarks along the beds, and the linen +crotch, all told the same tale. The turnkey then ran to the men’s cells, +and found them all bolted. He did the same to the women’s, and found +them likewise fastened just as he left them the night before. He then +examined every window. Not a bar was moved. He did this without speaking +a word to any one. At the usual hour he called up the prisoners, and +marched them out of their cells. Margaret’s was the last, at the end of +the passage. When he opened it, no one answered his summons. He walked +in; no one was there. The bed had not been slept in, and was without +sheets. He then made Mrs. Ripshaw acquainted with the facts. +Astonishment and alarm were depicted upon her countenance. Her husband’s +absence made the circumstance the more distressing.</p> + +<p>Search was made in every part of the gaol, but no trace of Margaret +could be found. The women with whom she washed the day previously all +declared that they knew nothing of her escape. They declared that they +saw her go before them to the farther end of the passage to her own +cell. But how could she escape and lock the door? The turnkey was quite +sure he had secured her in her own cell, for that he went into the one +adjoining after he had, as he supposed, locked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> her up in hers. It came +out, however, in the course of inquiry, that he remembered her asking +him about the horses not being set out for the wash; and the women +declared that Margaret had been very peremptory about not giving the +signal before eight o’clock. These things seemed to indicate a design to +escape, and carried some suspicion of the fact.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ripshaw, however, was not satisfied, but sent a swift messenger on +horseback to Bury St. Edmunds, with a note to acquaint her husband with +the circumstances. Mrs. Ripshaw also wrote to Mrs. Cobbold in the +greatest agitation, begging of her, if she knew where she was, to give +information of it, as her husband and two sureties were bound, under a +penalty of five hundred pounds each, to answer for the escape of any +prisoner <a name="CORR_5" id="CORR_5"><ins class="correction" title="original: from the goal">from the gaol</ins></a>. Such a stir was created in the town of Ipswich +by this event as was scarcely ever before witnessed. People flocked to +the gaol to see the spot whence Peggy had made her escape, and many were +the reports falsely circulated concerning her.</p> + +<p>It is not easy to describe the grief and consternation which was truly +felt by Margaret’s dearest and best friend. She knew the consequences of +this rash act; that, if she was taken, it was death, without any hope of +reprieve.</p> + +<p>She ordered her carriage, and went to the gaol, and was as much, or even +more astonished than the inmates of the prison could be. She soon +convinced Mrs. Ripshaw that she had not the slightest idea of any such +intention on the part of her late servant, neither could she tell where +she was gone. She made inquiries whether she had been seen talking with +any of the male prisoners; but no clue could be gained here. Mrs. +Cobbold was one of those whose decided opinion was, that she must have +had somebody as an accomplice; but every soul denied it. This lady +returned home in the greatest distress and uncertainty. Messengers were +dispatched to Nacton, to Brandiston, and even into Cambridgeshire, to +inquire after her.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Ripshaw returned from Bury, he found<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> some of the magistrates +in the gaol. He had formed a very strong opinion in his own mind, and +requested the visiting magistrates to examine the turnkey immediately. +He was summoned, and examined before Colonel Edgar, Mr. Gibson, and Mr. +Neale, and closely questioned. His answers were not deemed satisfactory.</p> + +<p>The magistrates remanded him for a time, and conversed together upon the +subject. They were of opinion that somebody must have bribed the man, +and that he must have let her out, and have put the things as they were +found, as a blind to turn suspicion from himself.</p> + +<p>He was again summoned, and given in custody, on suspicion of having +assisted the prisoner’s escape.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, every exertion was made to discover the prisoner, but +without any success. The following hand-bill was printed and circulated +in every direction:—</p> + +<p class="center">"FIFTY POUNDS REWARD.</p> + +<p>“Whereas, on Tuesday night, the 25th of March, or early on Wednesday +morning, Margaret Catchpole, a female convict, confined in the Ipswich +gaol, made her escape therefrom, either by scaling the wall, or by the +connivance of the turnkey, this is to give notice, that the above reward +shall be given to any person or persons who will bring the said Margaret +Catchpole to Mr. Ripshaw, the gaoler; and one-half that sum to any +person or persons furnishing such information as shall lead to her +apprehension. And notice is hereby given, that any person concealing or +harbouring the said Margaret Catchpole shall, after this notice, if +detected, be, by order of the magistrates, punished as the law directs.</p> + +<p>“N.B.—The prisoner is a tall and dark person, with short hair, black +eyes, and of intelligent countenance. She had on the gaol dress, and +took away with her the two sheets belonging to her bed.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Ipswich Gaol</span>, March 28th, 1800.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p> + +<p>This notice was circulated far and near, and furnished topics for +conversation throughout the county.</p> + +<p>It so happened that some of the servants of Mrs. Cobbold mentioned the +subject of the reward to the old fisherman, Robinson Crusoe, as he stood +at the back-door with his basket of fish.</p> + +<p>“Well, Robin, have you heard of the reward? Have you heard of Margaret’s +escape from the gaol!”</p> + +<p>“No; but I think I have seen her, or the foul fiend has played me one of +his shabby tricks.”</p> + +<p>“Seen her, Robin! Where?”</p> + +<p>“I saw that fellow Laud, and somebody very like her, go across the +Sutton Ferry together. She might deceive anybody else, but the foul +fiend showed her to me, though she was in a sailor’s dress. I told your +mistress, long ago, that no good would come of Margaret.”</p> + +<p>This news reached the parlour, and was soon communicated to Mr. Ripshaw, +who quickly had an interview with Mrs. Cobbold, and from her he learned +the intimacy existing between Will Laud, his late prisoner, and +Margaret, and could not doubt that he had assisted in her escape. He +soon ascertained the probable bearings of Laud’s destination, and lost +no time in prosecuting the pursuit. He went off for Woodbridge and +Sutton Ferry directly. The ferryman corroborated the testimony of old +Colson as to two sailors, a slight one and a stout one, passing over the +river in his boat, on the morning of the 26th. They went off directly, +he said, for Eyke. Thither the gaoler pursued his course, and thence to +Sudbourn.</p> + +<p>He found out that two sailors had been seen in that neighbourhood such +as he described them, and that they lodged at Mrs. Keeley’s. He took a +constable along with him to the cottage, and at once demanded his +prisoner. The woman at first denied all knowledge of the persons he +sought, but, after threatening her with taking her off to gaol at once, +she confessed that her brother and Margaret were down on the coast, +waiting for a boat to carry them off to sea; she even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> confessed that +Margaret slept with her only the night before, and that a report having +reached them of the reward offered for her capture, she had put a +smock-frock over her sailor’s jacket, and was assisting Keeley, her +husband, in keeping his flock upon the marsh saltings.</p> + +<p>The constable of Sudbourn and Mr. Ripshaw went off immediately for the +saltings. They met Keeley, the shepherd, returning with his flock, to +fold them upon the fallows; but no one was with him. He was a shrewd, +sharp, surly fellow, and in a moment understood what was in the wind.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ripshaw began the attack. “Constable, take that man into custody.”</p> + +<p>“Where’s your warrant, Mr. Gaoler? ‘Old birds are not to be caught with +chaff.’ Now, then, your warrant for my apprehension, and I am the man to +go with you. Come, show me the warrant at once; or, you no sooner lift +your hand against me than I will show you what resistance is, and you +shall take the consequences of an assault upon my person.”</p> + +<p>The fellow stood with his brawny limbs displayed before them, and his +two fierce, rough-coated, short, flap-eared dogs wagging their stumps of +tails, and looking earnestly in their master’s face, to see if he gave +the signal for them to attack either, or both the gaoler and the +constable. It was clear that they must go upon another tack.</p> + +<p>The shepherd gave a shrill whistle to his dogs, and on they dashed, +driving the sheep towards the fold.</p> + +<p>They proceeded directly along the shingled hardware to the beach, or +rather to the shore of the river-side, which in those parts much +resembles the sea-shore. The revenue cutter’s boat was then going across +the stream of the Alde; they hailed it, and the officer in command +ordered his men to return.</p> + +<p>It was young Barry who came on shore from the boat, and he immediately +walked a little way apart with the gaoler, who explained to him the +nature of his business; and painful as its connexion with Mar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span>garet +Catchpole made it to Barry, his sense of duty compelled him to render +the assistance required. Accordingly, they were soon seated in the stern +of the boat, and were rowed by his men towards the spot, where, on the +main shore, Laud and Margaret stood, anxiously watching the approach of +a boat from a vessel on the sea.</p> + +<p>There they stood, not only unconscious of approaching danger, but +congratulating themselves upon the prospect of a termination of all +their troubles. Joyfully did they watch the boat coming over the billows +of the sea, not seeing the other boat approaching them from the river. A +few minutes more, and they would have been beyond the reach of gaolers +and of prisons.</p> + +<p>Neither Laud nor Margaret saw them until they came down upon them, +headed by the gaoler, whose voice Margaret instantly recognized. With a +wild shriek that made the welkin ring, she rushed into the sea, and +would at once have perished, had not Laud caught her, as a wave cast her +back upon the beach and suddenly deprived her of sense and speech.</p> + +<p>He stood across the seemingly lifeless body of that devoted girl, and +with a pistol in each hand cocked, and presented to the foremost men, +the officer and the gaoler, he exclaimed, “Let us go—we are not +defrauding the revenue—you have no business with us!”</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> may go unhurt,” replied the gaoler, “if you will deliver up the +body of Margaret Catchpole. I must and will have her in my custody.”</p> + +<p>“If you do, Mr. Ripshaw, it shall be at the peril of your life, or the +cost of mine. The first man who approaches to touch her shall be a +corpse, or he shall make me one.”</p> + +<p>There was such determination in his words and attitude, that every one +saw he would not flinch. It was a painful moment for young Barry; he +wished to save the life of Laud; he did not wish to risk that of any of +his men; he stepped forward, and said,—</p> + +<p>“Will Laud, let me entreat you to give up the person<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> of Margaret +Catchpole; she has escaped from the custody of the gaoler, and is under +sentence of transportation. I promise that you shall depart in safety, +and that she shall take no hurt. Do not force me to shed blood—we +<i>must</i> take her!”</p> + +<p>The next instant two pistols flashed, and Laud lay stretched upon the +sand. He had first fired at Barry and missed him, and the next moment, +in self-defence, Barry was compelled to fire in return. The ball, which +was intended only to have disabled his arm, passed through his heart and +killed him on the spot. So ended the career of a man who, only in the +few latter days of his life, seemed steadily resolved to act fairly by +the woman who had devoted her life to him, and to follow some honourable +occupation in a foreign land. Poor Susan’s words at last proved true: +"Margaret you will never marry William Laud.”</p> + +<p>The bodies of Laud and Margaret were both carried by the sailors to the +preventive-service boat, and laid upon the men’s cloaks at the bottom of +it. After a while, Margaret began to revive, and her awakening dream +was, that she was on board the smuggler’s boat, which was coming to meet +them. But the men in that boat, observing the fearful odds against them, +had only rested on their oars to see the fatal result which took place, +and then turned back and steered for their own vessel.</p> + +<p>Margaret looked wildly round her as the moonlight shone upon the +sailors. She whispered, “Laud! Laud!” $1uo; She saw something lying in a line +with herself upon the same cloaks, but could not distinguish anything +but a sailor’s dress: she heard a voice at the helm which was familiar +to her; she recognized it to be Barry’s; she lifted her head, and saw +the banks of the river on both sides of the water. The truth seemed to +flash upon her, for she fell backwards again, fainted away, and became +insensible.</p> + +<p>She and her lover were conveyed to the Ship Inn at Orford. The sailors +who carried her, sensible of the devoted heart of the poor girl, seemed +oppressed with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> heaviness, and could not refrain addressing one another, +in their own peculiar style, upon the bad job of that night. Margaret +became too soon and too fully acquainted with her situation. She shed +tears of the deepest agony; her mind was distracted, and without +consolation. She did not speak to any one; but between sobs, and groans, +and lamentations upon her loss, she seemed the most melancholy picture +of human woe. By what she had heard from some of the pitying sailors +around her, she understood that it was young Edward Barry who had shot +her lover. When he came into the room where she was seated in an +arm-chair, with her head resting in an agony upon her hand, he went up +to speak to her. She lifted up her hands, turned her head aside, and +exclaimed—</p> + +<p>“Begone, wretch! Did you not voluntarily promise you would never hurt +him?”</p> + +<p>“And so I would, Margaret, if he would have permitted me to do so. But +he would not. He first fired at me, and then I returned it; but only +with the intention of disarming him.”</p> + +<p>“You have done a noble deed, and one which will immortalize your name, +one which will form a source of happy reflection to you hereafter, most +noble man of war! You have killed a harmless man, and have taken captive +a poor fugitive female! Happy warrior! you will be nobly rewarded!”</p> + +<p>“Do not reproach me, Margaret, but forgive me. I have only done my duty; +and, however painful it has been, you would not reproach me, if you did +but know how much I really grieved for you.”</p> + +<p>“Your grief for me will do me about as much good as mine will poor +William!" and here Margaret burst into a flood of tears, which words +could not in any way repress.</p> + +<p>A post-chaise was ordered to the inn-door, and Margaret, apparently more +dead than alive, was placed within it, and the gaoler taking his seat +beside her, they were conveyed immediately to Ipswich.</p> + +<p>She was once more confined within those walls<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> which she had so recently +scaled; she made no secret of the manner in which she had effected her +escape; she fully confessed her own work, and perfectly exonerated every +other person in the gaol.</p> + +<p>It was well for the poor turnkey that she was captured. He was +immediately released from confinement, and reinstated in his office.</p> + +<p>Margaret was now kept in almost solitary confinement, to mourn over her +unhappy lot, and to reflect upon the death of one whom she had loved too +well.</p> +<hr class="chap" /> + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII<br /><span style="font-size:70%">SECOND TRIAL, AND SECOND TIME CONDEMNED TO DEATH</span></a></h2> + +<p>After the arrival of Margaret at the Ipswich gaol, several magistrates +attended, at the request of Mr. Ripshaw, to take the deposition of the +prisoner. She was summoned into the gaoler’s parlour, or, as it was more +properly called, the “Magistrates’ Room” $2quo; The depositions of Mr. Ripshaw +and of the constable of Sudbourn, were first taken down. The nature of +the offence was then for the first time explained to Margaret, and its +most dreadful consequences at once exposed. She was taken completely by +surprise. She had no idea that, in doing as she had done, she had been +guilty of anything worthy of death, and made no hesitation in telling +the magistrates so. She told them, moreover, that her conscience did not +accuse her of any crime in the attempt, and that she thought it a cruel +and bloody law which could condemn her to death for such an act.</p> + +<p>“But are you aware,” said Mr. Gibson, one of the visiting magistrates, +"that you have broken that confidence with Mr. Ripshaw which he placed +in you, and that you subjected him and his sureties to the penalty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> of +five hundred pounds each, had he not recovered you, and brought you back +to prison?”</p> + +<p>“Had I been aware of such a thing, I should then have thought myself as +bad as if I had stolen the money, and should, indeed, have broken the +confidence which, with such a knowledge, would have been placed in me, +but I knew nothing of such a fact. My master, Mr. Ripshaw, was always +kind and indulgent to me, and my mistress the same, but they never +hinted such a thing to me. I was not aware that, with regard to my +personal liberty, there was any bond of mutual obligation between me and +my master. I was always locked up at the usual time, and it never was +said to me, ‘Margaret, I will rely upon your honour that you will never +attempt to escape.’ No promise was exacted from me, and I did not think +that it was any breach of confidence to do as I have done.”</p> + +<p>“You do not consider that you might have ruined an innocent man; that +the turnkey was actually committed upon suspicion of having connived at +your departure, as nobody would believe that you could have done such an +act of your own accord.”</p> + +<p>“I might not have done it of my own accord, though I certainly did it +without the assistance of any human being. He, alas! is dead who +persuaded me to it, though I confess it did not require any very great +degree of persuasion; and I fear that, were he living now, I should +almost attempt the same again.”</p> + +<p>“There you speak contemptuously, and in a very unbecoming manner, young +woman.”</p> + +<p>“I did not mean to be disrespectful to you, gentlemen, especially as you +are so kind as to explain to me the nature of the law. I only meant to +express my own weakness. But may I ask what law it is that makes the act +I have been guilty of so felonious as to deserve death?”</p> + +<p>“You may ask any question you please, but you must not add defiance to +your impropriety and guilt. You are sensible enough to be well assured +that the magistrates here present are not your judges. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> have a duty +to perform to their country; and they consider it a privilege and an +honour that their sovereign places them in the situation of such an +active service as to send prisoners before the judge; that such as +transgress the laws, and render themselves unfit to enjoy rational +liberty, should be punished, as men not worthy to be members of a well +organized and civilized community. By the law of the land you live in, +you have once been condemned to death for horse-stealing. By the mercy +of your king, you have had a reprieve, and a commutation of that +sentence of death for transportation for seven years. The period you +have spent in gaol is part of that sentence. Now understand the law:—</p> + +<p>“‘Any prisoner breaking out of gaol, if he resist his gaoler, may be +killed on the spot, in the attempt of the gaoler to restrain him. And +any person breaking out after sentence of death, shall be considered +liable to that punishment for his original offence, which had been +commuted, and shall suffer death accordingly. If he escape through the +door of his prison, when left open, it shall not be felony, because it +is the negligence of the gaoler; but if he break out, after proper +caution exercised for his security, either by force in the day, or by +subtlety in the night, then it shall be felony.’</p> + +<p>“Such is the law; and though in your case, young woman, you may not +consider it just, yet when you reflect upon your example to others, you +will see it in a different light. If every prisoner should go unpunished +who broke out of prison what continual attempts would be made to escape! +I am truly sorry for your case; but the law is made for offenders; and +it is our duty to send you to Bury again for trial. In the meantime, the +gaoler will be upon the alert, and take good care that you do not commit +the same offence again.”</p> + +<p>Margaret thanked Mr. Gibson for his explanation. She felt very sorry, +she said, if she had offended any one, and hoped they would forgive her +ignorance and unintentional offence.</p> + +<p>She was fully committed to take her trial for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> second offence. Mr. +Gibson was much astonished at her presence of mind and singularly acute +understanding, as well as appropriate and becoming form of speech, which +she used as naturally as she felt it. His words to one deeply interested +for Margaret were, “What a pity that such a woman should not know the +value of her liberty before she lost it!”</p> + +<p>The reader knows the reason why Margaret broke out of prison, and has +seen how she became a second time amenable to the laws. He will observe, +that it was from her acquaintance with that desperate man, who had been +the cause of misery to her and her family, from the first days of her +acquaintance with him. But he was now dead. The cause was removed, and +with it died every wish of her heart for life and liberty.</p> + +<p>But it was not the place that made Margaret so unhappy. It was the void +occasioned by the having no one now to love, that made her feel as if no +one in the world loved her. In this she was greatly mistaken; for though +her offence had occasioned much condemnation among those who were +interested in her, yet they were not so lost to pity and compassion as +not to feel for her sufferings. Among the foremost of those friends was +her former mistress, who, in the true sense of the word, was charitable.</p> + +<p>As soon as she heard that Margaret was retaken, she saw at once all the +dreadful consequences which awaited her, and knew that she would require +more than double attention and care. Her first step was an application +to a magistrate (Mileson Edgar, Esq., of the Red House), for an order to +visit Margaret in prison, and the application was immediately granted in +the following letter from that gentleman:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Red House</span>, May 10th, 1800.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">My dear Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“Any request that you would make would be sure to meet with prompt +attention from me, because I am well assured that you would not +make one which I could not grant, and which, when granted, would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> +not give me pleasure to have attended to. Herewith I send you an +order to Mr. Ripshaw to admit you to visit Margaret Catchpole +during her confinement in the Ipswich gaol. What an extraordinary +being she is! a clever, shrewd, and well-behaved person, yet +strangely perverted in her judgement! She actually cannot be +persuaded that she has offended against the laws of her country. +You will, I trust, my dear madam, by the exercise of your influence +and judgement, convince her of her folly. I am truly glad that you +intend going to see her; for next to the pleasure derived from +granting your request is the comfort I derive from the prospect of +great benefit therein to the prisoner.</p> + +<table class="signature60" summary="sig"> +<tr><td class="tdl">"Believe me, my dear madam,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl pad6">"Ever yours sincerely,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl pad8">"<span class="smcap">Mileson Edgar</span>.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>“To <span class="smcap">Mrs. Cobbold</span>, St. Margaret’s Green, Ipswich.”</p> +</div> + +<p>The visit was soon paid to poor Margaret in her cell, and it was one of +deep interest and importance, inasmuch as it paved the way for a better +frame of mind, and deeper humility, than this wretched young woman ever +before felt. On this account we shall record the particulars of the +interview in detail, as related by the lady herself.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Cobbold entered the cell, Margaret rose and curtsied +respectfully, and the next moment the big tears rolled down her cheeks, +and her chest heaved with convulsive emotion, as if her heart would +break. The gaoler placed a chair for the lady, and retired to the end of +the passage. For a long time nothing could be heard but the occasional +sobs of the prisoner. At length she spoke:—</p> + +<p>“Oh! my dear lady, how can you look upon me? You are good to come and +see me; but indeed I feel as if I was not worthy you should come. I +never dared to ask it of you. I had scarcely any hope of it. It is only +your goodness. I am a poor, ill-fated being, doomed to sorrow and +despair!”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Margaret, I came to see you from a sense of duty to God, and to you +too: I came to try and comfort you; but how can I give consolation to +you if you talk of your being ill-fated and <i>doomed</i> to despair? Do not +say that the doom of fate has anything to do with your present +situation. You know as well as I do, that unless you had misconducted +yourself, you might have been as happy now as you were when I saw you +after your return from Bury. Put your sin upon yourself, and not upon +your fate. You know the real cause of this unhappiness.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! dear lady, what would you have done if you had been me and in my +place?”</p> + +<p>“I might have done as you did; but I do think, Margaret, knowing what a +friend I had always been to you, that you might have placed confidence +in me, and have told me Laud was in prison. I observed that you were +much disturbed, and not yourself, when I last came to see you, but I +could not divine the cause.”</p> + +<p>“I was afraid to tell you, madam, lest you should persuade me to give up +my acquaintance with him, and I had learned much more to his credit than +I knew before.”</p> + +<p>“And so, by following your own inclination, you have brought your lover +and yourself to an untimely death. Oh, Margaret! had you confided in me, +I should have persuaded you to have tried him until you had obtained +your discharge from prison; then, had he been a respectable and altered +man, I should have approved of your marriage.”</p> + +<p>“But think, dear lady, how constant he had been to me for so many years! +Surely his patience deserved my confidence.”</p> + +<p>“And what good did you ever find it do you, Margaret? Look at the +consequences.”</p> + +<p>“I could not foresee them. How could I then look at them?”</p> + +<p>“Though you were so blind as not to foresee the consequences, others, +with more reflection and forethought, might have done so for you; and, +assuredly, had you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> hinted the matter to me, I should have prevented +what has happened.”</p> + +<p>“I wish indeed, now, that I had done so. I suffer most severely in my +mind, not from the fear of punishment, but because I have been the cause +of William Laud’s death.”</p> + +<p>“And he will have been the cause of your own, Margaret. Had he not +persuaded you to break out of prison, he would not have been killed. He +knew the penalty was death to you if you were caught, and he has met +that very end to which he has now made you liable. Had he loved you +lawfully and honourably, as he ought to have done, he would have waited +for your free and happy discharge.”</p> + +<p>“But it seems to me,” said Margaret, “so very strange, something so out +of justice, to condemn a person to die for that which does not appear to +her to be a crime. I cannot see the blood-guiltiness that I have thus +brought upon myself. In God’s commandments I find it written, ‘Thou +shalt not steal.’ I stole the horse, and I could see that I deserved to +die, because I transgressed that commandment; but I do not find it said, +‘Thou shalt not escape from prison.’”</p> + +<p>“Now Margaret, your own reasoning will condemn you. You acknowledged +that you deserved to die for stealing the horse. Now consider the +difference between the sentence you were actually prepared to submit to +and the one for which it was in mercy changed. Though justly condemned +to death, you are permitted to live and undergo a comparatively mild +punishment, yet you cannot see the duty of submitting to it. You should +have endured the lesser punishment without a murmur. You appeared to +receive the award of it with such thankfulness that it made all your +friends rejoice for you. But how deep is their present sorrow! What will +the judge say to you now when you are placed before him? Religion +teaches you submission to the constituted authorities of your country; +and you ought to think with humility, as you once did, that, like the +thief on the cross, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> suffer justly for your crimes. To my mind, +Margaret, you have no excuse whatever. It may be all very well for +romantic ideas of fancy to make your lover the excuse; but you were not +at liberty to choose to roam over the sea with him until you could do so +with a free conscience.”</p> + +<p>“It is not for me, dear lady, to say a word against your reasoning. I +did not look upon my crime in this light.”</p> + +<p>“You must learn to look upon your crime as one which has done injury to +society. Which of your friends, who interceded for you with the judge, +and gave you so good a character, can now intercede for you again? I am +persuaded, Margaret, that the judge himself will think his former mercy +much displaced, and that you will meet with severity and reproach at his +hands.”</p> + +<p>“Dear lady! who can give me comfort? Laud is dead, my father is dead, my +brother is at a distance and will probably be so ashamed of me that he +will never come to see me again. To whom, then, can I look for help? +You, my dear mistress, must be hurt at my conduct, and all my friends +likewise. I do not deserve their compassion, and yet I never wanted help +so much. Oh! who shall comfort me now?”</p> + +<p>“You shall have all the consolation I can give you; I will pray for you +continually; I will lend you such books to read as I think may assist +you; and were we not now about to remove from St. Margaret’s Green to +the Cliff again, and in the midst of much bustle, I would come to see +you much oftener than I can now do. My family is increasing, and your +master says he must return again to the brewery and to business. But I +will come and see you many times, and when I cannot come I will write +such instructions as, if you pursue them diligently, may, with God’s +blessing, promote your everlasting benefit. I am glad that you are +sensible of your sins. This will go some way towards your deriving +consolation from the Word of God. Attend to the precepts of the +chaplain, who is a good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> man, and understands your disposition as well +as I do; I shall often communicate with the Rev. Mr. Sharp concerning +you. You must indeed be very, very humble, before you can obtain that +sweet peace of mind which you once possessed. It will come to you again, +if you are sincerely penitent and resigned, but not without.”</p> + +<p>“You are a dear friend, madam, to the poor destitute, and the only one +now left me upon the earth. Oh! how, dear lady, can I be worthy of such +kind consideration? Forgive me! oh, pray forgive me!”</p> + +<p>“Margaret, I wish the law could as freely forgive you as I do, but you +must not expect it. You must fortify your soul with religious +consolation alone. Everything else will fail. You must think of far +greater love than I can show to you, Margaret; love that has endured +inexpressible anguish for you; love that has laid down life for you; and +that will teach you how to die. You must think of your Saviour’s +love—free, unsought, undeserved love. Oh, the depth of His riches! Who +can estimate them as he ought? You must look up to Him during every +moment of your short existence, and be never weary of praying to Him for +forgiveness. But I must now leave you, Margaret. It shall not be long +before I see you again. God bless you! Good-bye!”</p> + +<p>Margaret could not speak, but she knelt down and prayed inwardly.</p> + +<p>For the next three months Mrs. Cobbold became a frequent visitor at the +gaol, and found that Margaret made the best use of her time between the +period of her committal and her trial. How instructive are the minutes +of her progress, which that lady made, during that most engaging period! +and how blessedly employed was the enlightened mistress in communicating +light to her poor benighted servant! It was now that she made amends, in +her own heart, for that too common error among all who exercise power +and authority: the neglect of the spiritual welfare of their dependants. +She applied her powerful faculties to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> the strengthening and refreshing +of her servant’s mind, by humbling herself with her before God. And well +was she repaid for this exertion. Abundant was the reward to herself in +obtaining that experience in the ways of godliness which strengthened +her own faith and increased her charity.</p> + +<p>Margaret’s mind underwent a complete change. She might be truly said to +be a resigned and patient Christian; one who, from that day to her +latest moments, never lost the influence of those purest principles and +most blessed hopes which were then instilled and rooted in her soul.</p> + +<p>On the 1st of August, the day previously to her departure for Bury, +Margaret received the following letter from her excellent mistress:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Cliff, Ipswich</span>, August 1st, 1800</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Margaret</span>,</p> + +<p>“I cannot come and see you, as I had intended this day to have +done, having been so unfortunate as to sprain my ankle in getting +out of my carriage on to the stone step at the Cliff. But I am so +full of thought about you, that my painful foot shall not prevent +my willing hand writing to you a few words before you depart. It +may be good for you and me that this accident has occurred, however +much it may seem our present privation. It may teach us that we +never can command events, or tell what a day may bring forth. It +may so happen that this letter may do you more good than my visit; +if so, I shall not regret the pain I suffer, since I shall have the +consolation of its seeming evil being productive of some good. Oh, +how I wish that we could look upon all events in the same manner, +and be persuaded that all things ‘work together for good to them +that love God!’ Let us (i. e. you and I) be thus persuaded. It will +prevent us experiencing any present mortification in the +impossibility of our seeing each other at this time.</p> + +<p>“I would first speak to you about your conduct at the trial, and my +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span>pen does that which my tongue would do. Do not attempt in any way +to defend your conduct. Being fully convinced, by God’s grace, of +the criminality of your act and deed, let no legal sophistry +whatever induce you to plead <i>not guilty</i>. In a court of justice, +you should stand before man in the same way as you would before +your Maker, without any covert deceit, any desire to make a bad +cause appear a good one.</p> + +<p>“Satan is sometimes transformed into an angel of light. He is so +eloquent, so engaging, so bold, so devoted, so earnest, so +intelligent, so interesting, so persuasive, that a lie comes from +him with such apparent grace, that the sons of God are almost +deceived by his transformations. But let not any one persuade you +to take advantage of his services. Truth, Margaret, needs no +fiction to defend it; for ‘whatsoever loveth and maketh a lie shall +never enter into the city of truth.’ So do not suffer any one who +calls himself your friend to persuade you to trust to fallacies. +You know yourself guilty. Conduct yourself as a person conscious of +your guilt before God and man. I shall not deceive you. The penalty +of your crime is death; and you do not forget the argument that I +used upon a former occasion, ‘that if a man owns himself justly +condemned to suffer death, and has mercy shown to him by giving him +a lesser punishment, his duty is to suffer that lesser punishment +with the same resignation as he would death. And if he fail in this +duty, he justly deserves the former punishment.’ So do you justly +deserve sentence of death for your present or late sin. And you +will be condemned to die!</p> + +<p>“Be prepared for much severity at the hands of our offended judge. +I say, be prepared; for unless he should know as much of you as I +do, he will think you one of the worst persons alive, and therefore +only fit to be made a public example of by a violent death. I know +you, however, Margaret; and though I believe that if you were now +restored to liberty you would be a Christian servant, and never +more be a guilty slave of sin, yet your judge cannot know this. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span>Indeed, scarcely any of the magistrates know this. It is, +therefore, best to be prepared for a severe trial. Do not attempt +to call any one to speak to your character. It will be of no use. +The representations made by the magistrates at the last assizes +will be sufficient testimony up to that time; and since then, you +cannot say that you deserve any defence. You must not expect any +mercy, but prepare yourself not only to receive sentence of death, +but <i>prepare yourself to die</i></p> + +<p>“If a prisoner who knows himself to be guilty does not prepare +himself to die before the sentence of death is passed upon him, his +is a very dangerous state, since the period is so short between +condemnation and execution that he must be very much distracted.</p> + +<p>“You have read through ‘The Christian’s Consolations against the +Fears of Death,’ and you tell me that your mind has been greatly +strengthened by the piety expressed in this good old book. I agree +with you that it touches upon every source of consolation which a +Christian man can contemplate. It meets almost every case. But it +does not exactly contemplate a female convict, like yourself; and +on this account I would add a very few words of advice to you upon +this subject.</p> + +<p>“To die a Christian, and as a Christian ought to die, is to have no +desire whatever but for the kingdom of God. You suffer justly for +your crimes; and you must not let any one deceive you into any +false idea of your own worthiness to live. The penitent malefactor +on the tree rebuked the boldness of his brother, who railed upon +the Saviour of the world, and used these words of reproof, ‘Dost +not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we +indeed suffer justly; but this man hath done nothing amiss.’ Then +he prefers that humble prayer, which should ever be yours, +Margaret, up to your latest moment, ‘Lord, remember me when thou +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span>comest into Thy kingdom!’ How infinite in mercy is the Lord! How +loving! How pitiful! How generous to the poor wretch at the moment +of his late repentance! We cannot tell, Margaret, how late that +repentance was. He might have been convinced of his guilt long +before he was lifted up to die. In prison he might have heard, as +you have done, of the great, the good, the only Christ. So that men +do wrong to take even this example for the success of a death-bed +repentance at the last hour. We cannot tell when our last hour may +be. Our first should be one of repentance as well as our last. And +the whole desire of our lives should be, to be remembered in the +kingdom of Christ. The blessed words of our Saviour must have taken +away the sting of death from the faithful heart of the penitent: +‘This day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise.’</p> + +<p>“I conceive that we are justified in taking these words to our own +selves in our own contemplation of death, and in considering them +as the most blessed words that can be used to destroy the power +which the King of Terrors often raises in the minds of weak and +sinful mortals. If you are truly penitent, justly sensible of all +your sins, and are fully convinced of the meritorious sacrifice +which God has once made for your sins and those of the whole world, +I see no reason why your faith should not be so fully fixed on +these blessed words as to let them be the hope of your heart. It is +almost impossible for the true penitent to beg to be remembered in +the kingdom of Christ without experiencing comfort from the +Saviour’s words, ‘This day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise.’</p> + +<p>“Death frees us from the dominion of sin; that is, if we die in +Christ. We are then with Him in Paradise, in that state of +innocency in which Adam was before he was driven out of the Garden +of Eden. Our spirits know no fear, since we are in love; and +‘perfect love casts out fear, because fear hath torment.’</p> + +<p>"Your judge, Margaret, will probably tell you to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span>make good use of +the short time you have to live. I not only tell you this, that you +may be fortified against your sentence of death, but that you may +prepare yourself for entering upon another and a better life. I am +glad to find, by my friend the chaplain, that you have diligently +applied your whole strength to the Word of God, and have found how +weak, how wicked, how lost you have been all the days of your life. +I hope to be able to come and see you, with him, after your return +from Bury, and to partake with you of spiritual refreshment. Till +then, my poor servant, I can only pray that you may be rich in +grace, strong in faith, humble in heart, devout in prayer, lowly +and contrite in spirit, watchful against all temptation, in love, +in peace, in charity with all, praying for all: for your judge, +jury, and fellow-prisoners.</p> + +<p>“Oh that your end may be as you wish it, a warning to all your sex, +and especially to those in your situation of life, never to let +passion get the upper hand of virtuous principle! That God may +fortify you with His spirit, cheer you with His Word, and comfort +you in death, is the earnest prayer of your former mistress</p> + +<table class="signature40" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>"And present friend,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad4">"<span class="smcap">Elizabeth Cobbold</span>.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>“To <span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>.”</p> +</div> + +<p>Margaret fed upon the contents of this letter, and followed the advice +given her; and with what effect will be best seen by the account +preserved of her second trial. She went to Bury on the 2nd of August, +and on the 3rd was conducted to the same court, and appeared before the +same judge, as she had done upon her first trial three years before.</p> + +<p>The Lord Chief Baron Sir Archibald Macdonald was this time accompanied +by Sir Beaumont Hotham. The juries for the county and liberty were the +following honourable gentlemen:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span>—</p> + +<table width="60%" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="For the County"> +<col width="50%" /> <col width="50%" /> +<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">FOR THE COUNTY</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Lord Viscount Brome.</td><td class="tdl2">Edward Studd, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Charles Berners, jun., Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">Anthony Collet, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">B. G. Dillingham, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">Joseph Burch Smith, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">P. J. Thelluson, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">John Farr, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">George Wilson, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">John Dresser, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Matthias Kerrison, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">William Philpot, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Wolfran Lewis, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">James Reeve, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Mileson Edgar, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">Edmund Barber, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">John Cobbold, Esq..</td><td class="tdl2">James Stuttur, Esq.</td></tr> +</table> +<p><br /></p> +<table width="60%" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="For the Liberty"> +<col width="50%" /> <col width="50%" /> +<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">FOR THE LIBERTY</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Sir T. C. Bunbury, Bart.</td><td class="tdl2">John Wastell, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Sir T. C. Cullum, Bart.</td><td class="tdl2">Robert Walpole, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Sir Harry Parker, Bart.</td><td class="tdl2">Richard Cartwright, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Barnard E. Howard, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">Thomas Cocksedge, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">N. Barnadiston, Esq..</td><td class="tdl2">Thomas Mills, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Nathaniel Lee Acton, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">James Oakes, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Capel Lofft, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">Thomas Gery Cullum,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">John Mosley, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdlbr1">Joshua Grigby, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">Abraham Reeve, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">William Mannock, Esq.</td><td class="tdl2">George Archer, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">William B. Rush, Esq., Sheriff.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>The usual forms of the court having been gone through, Margaret +Catchpole was again placed at the bar. Margaret was dressed, as +formerly, in a plain blue calico dress. She appeared pale and thin, but +perfectly free from any of that emotion which she formerly exhibited. +There was a calmness of deportment without the least obduracy, and no +obtrusive boldness nor recklessness. She did not look round the court +with any of that anxiety she formerly exhibited, as if she wished to see +any one there who knew her. She knew that Will Laud was gone, and that +neither her father nor her brother was there. She was quite indifferent +to the public gaze, and with her eyes cast down upon the bar, she saw +not that piercing glance which the judge gave her as she took her +station before him, though every person in court<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> noticed it, and looked +at the prisoner to see if she did not quail before it.</p> + +<p>The indictment having been read aloud, once more the clerk of the court +addressed her in these terms:</p> + +<p>“How say you, prisoner at the bar, are you guilty or not guilty?”</p> + +<p>Margaret lifted up her dark eyes once more, and looking her judge calmly +in the face, said—</p> + +<p>“Guilty, my lord.”</p> + +<p>There was a perfect stillness in that crowded court, while the judge now +addressed her in the following terms:—</p> + +<p>“I cannot address you, prisoner at the bar, in the same strain I +formerly did, since I am persuaded that you are hardened in your +iniquity. I pitied you at that time for your youth; but though young in +years, you are old in crime. I considered you then a person who, if you +had the chance, would form, for the remainder of your days, an estimable +character. In this, however, I have been greatly deceived, and I now +look upon you as a person whom I believe to be dangerous to the morals +of others, and therefore unfit to live. You have shown your sense of the +past mercy extended to you by your bold and daring conduct in breaking +out of prison. I had fully intended to have obtained your discharge from +the Ipswich gaol at these very assizes, had I heard the good report I +received last year confirmed. You may judge, then, of my surprise and +indignation when I heard of your escape from the gaol.</p> + +<p>“So bold a woman would make a very bad companion for any man. She who, +after receiving pardon for her past crimes, in the merciful permission +to live when condemned to death, will again be guilty of setting a bad +example to all, instead of a good and reformed one: she who will set at +defiance the laws of her country, and be so bold as to break out of +prison before the period of her confinement had expired, shows such a +disregard to all past and present mercies that she is not worthy to +live.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You have, I understand, been the occasion of sudden death to one man, +and might have involved others in your guilt. The turnkey of the gaol +might have been severely punished for your delinquency. Your gaoler, +whose duty it is to attend the prisoners to Bury, and of whose absence +you took such a shameful advantage, might have suffered a heavy fine. +You had very nearly eluded his activity, and I consider that great +credit is due to him for the manner in which he recovered you and has +brought you to justice. The magistrates of this county have very +properly applauded his zeal; and I consider it a fortunate thing for +society, that you are not this moment at large in any part of his +Majesty’s dominions.</p> + +<p>“I will not waste words upon a person so ungrateful as you are. What can +you possibly have to say why sentence should not be passed upon you? You +may say anything you have to say. It cannot be anything good, or in the +least mitigate the severest penalty of the law. Have you anything to +say, prisoner at the bar?”</p> + +<p>There was such a still silence in the court at this moment that the +scratch of a pen might have been heard. The barristers all looked up at +the prisoner. Every eye was fixed intently upon her pale face, as she +looked up and made such a composed reply to the Lord Chief Baron’s +speech, that one of the most eminent barristers of that day, afterwards +as eminent as a judge, declared it to be the most able and impressive he +had ever, under such circumstances, heard. She spoke with perfect ease, +and apparently without the slightest tremor, and was heard all over the +court.</p> + +<p>“My lord, I fully expected that your lordship would condemn me severely +for my present offence. I expected severity; but I did not think that I +should receive the language of judgement without mercy from one whose +former kindness touched my heart. As to my being a hardened offender, I +humbly hope that in this respect your lordship is mistaken. I have +committed two offences against the laws of my country.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> The first I +acknowledged, not without a sense of its guilt; the second, when I +committed it, I was quite unconscious of the light in which the law +viewed it, and I thought it no crime at all. Had not the arguments of +one wise as your lordship, and a far dearer friend to the prisoner, +convinced me of its enormity, I had this day stood before the court and +felt myself condemned as an innocent person. Thank God, such is not the +case! and your lordship’s accusation of my being a hardened offender is +without foundation.</p> + +<p>“At this moment of condemnation you refer to your intention of obtaining +my discharge at these assizes. At such a time as this, the expression of +such an intention might have produced extreme bitterness in my heart, +did I not know, that before the last assizes, your lordship received a +memorial, signed by all the magistrates who visited the Ipswich gaol, +praying for my discharge on account of exemplary conduct up to that +time. Had you, then, my lord, attended to that prayer, the offence for +which I am now to suffer the severity of the law would never have been +committed, the life of the man whom it was my fault to love would have +been spared, and I should not have had the anguish of being compelled to +speak as I now do, nor this court the pain of hearing me. The bitterness +then which your reference to my intended discharge would have given me +must remain with your lordship, not with me. You may be well assured, my +lord, that I am not hardened, but penitent. In the twinkling of an eye I +shall meet your lordship at the tribunal of perfect justice, where we +shall both be prisoners at that bar where we shall require, and, I hope, +shall find mercy.</p> + +<p>“You could not imagine what I should say, and what I do say is not meant +as a defence of my improper act, but only in justice to those who may +wish me ‘God speed’ in this court, and who might think from your +lordship’s language that I was insensible to their or your lordship’s +past kindness. The day will come, and not long after my departure +hence,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> when your lordship will be convinced that your opinion, now +expressed, was not such as the circumstances of my case warranted or +called for. Your lordship will then clearly see, that through ignorance, +and prompted somewhat beyond the bounds of reason by the force of +gratitude to one whom I too dearly loved, I was induced to attempt to +gain that liberty which I then felt could only be pleasant in his +company.</p> + +<p>“Your lordship will, I hope, send me soon to the enjoyment of a liberty +with which no laws of man can interfere. I call no persons to speak to +my character since the period when your lordship received the testimony +of the gaoler, chaplain, and magistrates of the Ipswich division. I +humbly beg pardon of you, my lord, and of all this court, if I have said +anything which may seem disrespectful to you or any persons present; and +I now await your lordship’s sentence.”</p> + +<p>After Margaret had finished speaking, all eyes were turned towards the +judge. The barristers who were present whispered together, and his +lordship caught the sounds of words like these: “Admirable answer!" +"Sensible speech!" “Able reply!" which made the colour come into his +face, and it required some degree of judicial self-possession to +disperse it. He soon resumed, however, his wonted dignity and calmness, +and proceeded to pass sentence upon the prisoner, prefacing the awful +terms with these words:—</p> + +<p>“Prisoner at the bar, I am glad to say that my opinion may be altered +with regard to your hardened state; I may lament, also, that the prayer +of that petition made in your behalf was not sooner complied with, as +you expected it would have been. This will not, however, excuse your +crime. It might be sufficient to establish the propriety of your conduct +up to that time, but your subsequent act completely cancelled that +character. You have artfully attempted to throw the blame, which rests +entirely with yourself, upon me as your judge.” Here Margaret looked at +him with piercing scrutiny, but uttered not a word. “He will not blame +himself again under similar cir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span>cumstances, having had such occasion to +blame himself for too great leniency upon your former trial. You are +sufficiently sensible to be aware of the short time you have to live, +and of the necessity of making good use of it. I shall add no more than +the judgement of this court, which is——”</p> + +<p>Here the judge passed the sentence in the same awful words as he had +formerly done.</p> + +<p>There were many in that court who felt for the prisoner more than the +finest eloquence could express. She received the sentence without any of +those deep feelings which she had formerly exhibited; she looked as +mildly and quietly at the judge as if she had only been receiving his +advice; she curtsied respectfully to him and the court; and then she +firmly receded from the dock, and returned to the care of the gaoler.</p> + +<p>It was observed by several persons of the court, that the Lord Chief +Baron did not rally his wonted cheerfulness during the succeeding +business of the day. Whatever may be said of the habit of sternness and +indifference to the real promptings of nature, which men who administer +the laws of their country usually entertain (and a judge is seldom +guilty of any exhibition of human weakness in the act of condemning a +fellow-creature to death), yet Chief Baron Macdonald most certainly did +feel a strange sensation of nervous sensibility with regard to the +unfortunate woman he had that day condemned. He was more abstracted and +thoughtful upon her case than upon any other which came before him. He +could not dismiss it from his mind with his wonted consciousness of +composure. He continually reverted to her extraordinary character +whenever a pause in the business of the court afforded him an +opportunity to speak to the high sheriff, and he was heard to say—</p> + +<p>“I should like to examine the spot whence this wonderful woman effected +her escape. The more I think of what I have been told of her, and of +what I have heard from her own lips, the more curious I am to inspect +the gaol. If I have an opportunity before I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> return to town, I most +assuredly will do so. I wish I could see that woman, and be myself +incog. I could then judge of some things which appear to me inexplicable +in such a person. Whence does she gain such powers of speech, such +simplicity of manners, and yet so truly applicable to her situation? +There must be mind and instruction too!”</p> + +<p>The high sheriff, who was a man of the most humane disposition, here +ventured to tell the judge that many of the magistrates thought that her +life would have been spared on account of their former recommendation. +This was quite in private conversation, and only came to light after the +business of the assizes was over. Let whatever influence may have been +exercised with his lordship in behalf of the prisoner, or let it have +been simply his own conviction that mercy would not again be unworthily +extended, before he left Bury her sentence was once more changed from +death to transportation. But this time it was for life, instead of for +seven years or for any fixed period.</p> + +<p>Margaret received the announcement of this change without any expression +of joy for herself or thankfulness to her judge. She regretted that she +should have to linger out so many years of her existence in a foreign +land, and when told of it as an act of mercy, she replied “that it was +no mercy to her.”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII<br /><span style="font-size:70%">TRANSPORTATION</span></a></h2> + +<p>Margaret returned to Ipswich in a very despondent state of mind; more +so, to all appearance, than if her sentence had not been changed from +death to transportation. Her feelings on this point are strikingly +evinced in the following letter, which she wrote to her mistress soon +after her return to gaol:—</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Ipswich Gaol</span>, August 9th, 1800.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Honoured Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“I am returned from Bury, and I regret to say that I am not to die +yet. That day is put off—perhaps that I may be swallowed up by the +sea, or be eaten by the savages of Botany Bay. I am to look forward +to years of degraded slavery, and to be sent away from my country +and my friends. I am so sorrowful, my dear lady, that I require +more of your good advice to learn to live than to learn to die. I +feel, indeed, as if my judge did it to torment me, and if I had the +opportunity, I should certainly tell him so. You told me he would +be severe; he was bitterly so, but it made me feel much less +grateful to him than I did the first time. Then I thought him like +you, dear lady, but I see no traces of that resemblance now. His +words were tormenting, his manners towards me tormenting, and his +change of sentence is tormenting. I would really have rather been +left to die, though by the hand of the public executioner, than be +as I am, soon to be sent out of the country to meet a more +miserable death. If I never see you more, I shall never forget you. +I told the judge that but for your friendship I should not have +been sensible of my sin. He called me a hardened sinner, and said I +was not fit to live. I wonder, then, that he did not suffer me to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span>die. Dear lady, I feel so very low, that if you do not come and +see me I shall be miserable indeed. Do—oh! pray do, if you can! I +hope you are suffering less from the effects of your sprain, and +that I shall see you. Forgive your poor servant’s boldness and +seeming selfishness. I pray earnestly for you and your dear family. +Oh that I could see the dear Cliff again! So happy was I when I +first lived there, and so should I be now, could I ever hope to see +you there again. To be your servant would be something worth living +for; but to be a slave in a foreign land! Oh! my dear lady! death +would be preferable to</p> + +<table class="signature40" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>"Your poor servant,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad4">"<span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>“To <span class="smcap">Mrs. Cobbold</span>, Cliff, Ipswich.”</p> +</div> + +<p>Her letter was dated on Saturday, the 9th August. It may be seen in the +<i>Ipswich Journal</i> of the 16th of August, A. D. 1800, that the Lord Chief +Baron paid a visit to the Ipswich gaol on Tuesday, 12th of August.</p> + +<p>He arrived on the morning of that day in his carriage, and was not +personally known to the turnkey. He told the man that he came purposely +to inspect the gaol, and wished particularly to see the spot where +Margaret Catchpole effected her escape.</p> + +<p>“Did you fill the office of turnkey at the time?” inquired the visitor.</p> + +<p>“I did, sir,” replied the man.</p> + +<p>“Then you had a very narrow escape; for, had I been the judge to have +tried you, I should have been much inclined to have thought you guilty +of connivance in this matter.”</p> + +<p>“Then I am very glad, sir, that you are not a judge.”</p> + +<p>The Lord Chief Baron did not tell him at the moment who he was.</p> + +<p>The turnkey was quite ready to show him the way in which the escape had +been made. He set up the frame exactly as he found it on the day of +Margaret’s adventure, and showed him the very crotch with which she had +fixed the line on the <i>chevaux de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> frise</i>. The broken spike on the +roller was pointed out, and he informed the judge of the trousers and +smock-frock which the prisoner had manufactured out of the sheets of her +bed. After having examined minutely the place and the frame, and having +heard the full report of the turnkey, he again said—</p> + +<p>“What an artful woman she must be to do this, and to be able to deceive +you in the sound of her voice from the adjoining cell!”</p> + +<p>“Aye, sir; and had she not confessed this, I should have been puzzled, +up to this hour, to account for her getting out of her cell, as I swore +that I heard her answer from within, before I locked the door.”</p> + +<p>“She must be a clever person.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, I believe she is. She owes a very great deal to a lady in +this town, who has taken great pains with her.”</p> + +<p>“So I have heard,” said the stranger. “I would give something to see +that lady. I understand she is the wife of the gentleman from whom she +stole the horse.”</p> + +<p>“I wish the lady might call while you are here, sir. It is not unlikely +that she may. Pray, sir, were you in court at the time of her trial?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I was.”</p> + +<p>“Then, perhaps, sir, you could tell us if it be true that she answered +the judge who addressed her in such a manner as to confuse him. Our +folks say that he was completely set, and felt so much surprised as to +be put out by her speech. I do not, of course, know if it be so, but I +heard two of our visiting magistrates talking about it the other day, +and they seemed to say as much as if it was so.”</p> + +<p>“It did not strike me to be exactly so. The judge was certainly +surprised at what she said, but I do not think he was angry with the +prisoner. Is the woman in her cell at this time?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, she is, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Will you tell Mr. Ripshaw that I should like to examine all the cells +of the prison?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Mr. Ripshaw is gone with two prisoners to Portsmouth, sir; but Mrs. +Ripshaw is within, and I can show you the cells.”</p> + +<p>The Lord Chief Baron followed the turnkey to the door of the governor’s +house, which was in the centre of the gaol. At this moment the chaplain, +the Rev. Mr. Sharp, came to pay his visit to the prisoners. The +gentlemen were shown into the parlour, where Mrs. Ripshaw sat, busily +engaged at some of the gaol accounts.</p> + +<p>The Lord Chief Baron presented his card to the chaplain, who immediately +explained to Mrs. Ripshaw who it was.</p> + +<p>“I am come purposely to inspect the gaol, Mrs. Ripshaw, and I wish to be +quite incog. at present. I have already examined the spot where that +extraordinary woman, Margaret Catchpole, effected her escape; and if +you, sir,” addressing himself to the chaplain, “are going to visit her, +and have no objection to my accompanying you, I should like to be +brought in as your friend. You need not address me, but I will join you +in your duties. I wish to see this singular woman, if possible, without +her recognizing me.”</p> + +<p>“She is, indeed, my lord,” replied the chaplain, “a most extraordinary +person. I have found her, up to this second trial, not only tractable, +but intelligent and attentive in the highest degree; but since her +return from Bury, she is disappointed and dissatisfied.”</p> + +<p>“With what?”</p> + +<p>“With her reprieve for transportation.”</p> + +<p>“With her reprieve! Does the woman really prefer death to life?”</p> + +<p>“Your lordship will be the best judge of that by the tenor of our +conversation, if she should not recognize your lordship. And should she +do so, she would not scruple to tell you plainly her opinion.”</p> + +<p>“I do not think that she can possibly recognize me, if I do not speak to +her, and I shall keep strict silence, if I can.”</p> + +<p>What a strange alteration do robes and wigs make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> in the appearance of +men of the law! Who could recognize the Lord Chief Baron of our courts +of law without the robes of his office? Counsel are not recognized even +by their clients when they first see them in their rooms without their +wigs and gowns. No wonder, then, that Margaret Catchpole should take her +judge for some brother clergyman or friend of the chaplain’s, when he +entered the cell, and seated himself upon a chair, which the turnkey +placed there for him.</p> + +<p>“Well, Margaret,” said the chaplain, “I hope you are a little more +reconciled to your prospects than you were when I saw you last.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could say I am, sir; but my prospects look very gloomy, and I +feel a great deal more anguish than if I were going to be executed.”</p> + +<p>“You ought not to do so, Margaret; I consider it a great mercy that your +life is spared.”</p> + +<p>“Spared! For what, sir? To drag on a wretched life as a felon, and to +live and die, no one knows how or cares, and then to lie in a felon’s +grave in a distant land! Here my body would at least have soon rested +beside my friends and relatives. My sufferings would have been short, +and I think I should have been happy. Oh, sir! pray forgive my poor +broken heart; it will give utterance to the language of lamentation. Oh! +that cruel judge! He might have let me die, especially as the bitterness +of death had already passed over me. But he was angry and displeased at +me for speaking, though he asked me if I had anything to say! So he +resolved that I should suffer the most excruciating torture by killing +me by inches in a foreign land! Is this mercy, Mr. Sharp?”</p> + +<p>“You look upon this in an unchristian and too gloomy a light. You here +attribute motives to your judge of a very improper kind; such as I am +fully persuaded never entered his mind, and never were inmates of his +breast. I am persuaded his thoughts toward you were those of pity as +well as mercy, and that your change of sentence was meant for your good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> +and that of others. You have no right to judge of his motives in so +unchristian a light.”</p> + +<p>“My dear sir, again I say, pardon my speech. I speak as I feel. Perhaps, +with your help, I may feel differently, but I should then speak +differently. Could you, or this gentleman, feel as I do, and were either +of you placed in my situation, you would think and argue very +differently to what you now do. You sit there, both of you, at liberty +to move from this place to the happy associations of kindred, friends, +and home. I grant you, a return to their society sweetens life, and +teaches you to bear your earthly visitations, whatever they may be, +patiently. But let me ask you how you would, either of you, like now to +be afflicted with a long, lingering, painful, bodily disease, which +permitted you only a few moments’ rest, and those troubled and broken, +and disturbed by horrid dreams; that, when you awoke each day, it was +only to a sense of increased pain? How would you like years of such +increased agony? Tell me, would you not prefer a happier, shorter, and +speedier termination of your sufferings than that long distant one which +must come at last after years of weariness and pain? Yet you find fault +with me because I would rather die now than live many years in all the +horrors of slavery, and then die without a friend near me!”</p> + +<p>“Still I think you wrong, Margaret. You seem to argue as if we had a +choice of our own in these matters, and forget that it must be God’s +will, and not our own, to which we must submit.”</p> + +<p>“Is it God’s will, or is it man’s will, that I should lead a life of +misery?”</p> + +<p>“This question almost makes me think you impious, Margaret. It is God’s +will that you should live, and I hope for some good: at all events, it +is for some wise purpose of His own, either that you may become an +instrument of His righteousness or mercy in His hands, or that you may +be an example to others. As to the misery you talk of, that will depend +much upon your own future individual conduct and charac<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span>ter. I have +heard that some receive pardon in that country for their good conduct, +and they settle in the land; and instead of being slaves, they become +useful members of society.”</p> + +<p>“That may perhaps be the case with some, sir; but I am looking at my own +present state, and I cannot believe that my judge had any such mercy in +his view when he changed my sentence from present momentary suffering to +such future wretchedness.”</p> + +<p>“Of that you can know nothing, neither ought you to take your present +state as any other than that of God’s decree by His agent, the judge. +How can you ascertain the motives of any man’s heart? I do firmly +believe that your judge decided most mercifully and righteously in your +case. He might really think that if you were removed from this country, +you might be instrumental in doing much good. He might hope that, under +different circumstances of life, from the very natural force of your +character taking another bias, you might become a blessing to yourself +and others.”</p> + +<p>“And so, because I yielded to temptation when I had so many good friends +around me, he would throw me into the very midst of temptation, where I +have not one friend to help me. Oh! Mr. Sharp, would it not be far +better to choose present release, when such kind friends are near me, +than future death, when no comforter or friend can be near?”</p> + +<p>“And is not your God near you, Margaret, in every place, unless you +drive Him away by your wickedness? But how can you tell that He may not +raise up some benevolent friend to help you in that country to which you +are going? I hope for the best. At all events, you must cherish better +feelings towards your judge than those you now possess, or your state +will be dreadful indeed wherever you may be. You seem to have forgotten +all the Christian lessons which your dear mistress and I have taken such +pains to teach you.”</p> + +<p>“I would not be ungrateful, sir, though I may now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> appear, as I am, so +unhappy. I will try by prayer to conquer the prejudice you speak of. I +do suffer such extreme horror in my mind from my view of the future, +that there is no rest for me by night or day. I see nothing but chains +and darkness. I think sometimes of the long, long journey from my native +land, of the dangers of the sea, of the companions with whom I may be +mixed. I start sometimes in my dreams, and fancy a great shark dashing +at me in the waters. Another time I see the native cannibals ready to +devour me. Then I think of home, of you, sir, of dear Dr. Stebbing, of +my uncle and aunt, and of my dearest mistress, and I find my +prison-pillow is wet with my nightly tears.”</p> + +<p>The tears started in more eyes than her own, as she spoke, in her +touching simplicity, of these acute feelings. She suffered intensely; +and it took many months of rational and devout conversation, on the part +of both her mistress and this worthy man, to eradicate those bitter +seeds of despair, and to sow those of cheerfulness and hope. After +directing Margaret’s mind to Christian duties, the chaplain and the +judge left her cell. They conversed some time upon her state of mind and +future prospects. The judge declared that he thought her one of the most +sensitive persons he had ever seen, with a mind capable of the highest +cultivation. He left five guineas with the chaplain to be laid out for +her benefit. He stated that she would not, in all probability, leave +England till the next summer, and hoped to hear a better account of her +some future day. Margaret was not informed of the person who had visited +her that day with the chaplain, until she had learned to look upon him +and herself in a very different light.</p> + +<p>The Lord Chief Baron visited all the cells of the prison, and expressed +his approbation of the cleanliness and neatness of the whole place. As +he was going away, he told the turnkey that he was the very judge who +had tried the female prisoner for breaking out of gaol. The reader may +imagine how frightened the poor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> fellow was at his late boldness of +speech. The judge observed his embarrassment, and told him that he had +spoken nothing improper; that he had done his duty, and deserved his +thanks.</p> + +<p>“You may tell your master,” he added, “that I am so well satisfied with +the appearance of all things under his care, that when I return to town +I shall not fail to give a favourable report of the state of the gaol +and of his discipline.” He made the turnkey a present, and left the +gaol.</p> + +<p>It was not until May, 1801, that Margaret Catchpole was informed of the +day of her departure for Botany Bay. She had been instructed in many +things relating to the country to which she was going, and her kind +mistress had purchased an assortment of useful articles for her future +employment. Her mind had been gradually divested of its miserable +horrors, and became fortified for the occasion. It will be seen, +however, that as the near approach of the day came, she dreaded and +lamented it bitterly. On the 25th of May, 1801, Mrs. Cobbold received +the following note from her:—</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Ipswich Gaol</span>, May 25th, 1801.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear and Honoured Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“I am sorry to have to inform you of the bad news. I am going away +on Wednesday next, or Thursday at the latest, so I have taken the +liberty of troubling you with these few lines. It will be the last +time I shall ever trouble you from this place of sorrowful, yet, +comparatively with the future, blessed captivity. My grief is very +great, now that I am really on the eve of banishment from my own +country and from all my dearest friends for ever. It was hard for +me ever to think of it. Oh! what must it be to endure it! Honoured +madam, it would give me some happiness to see you once more, on the +Tuesday previous to my leaving England for ever, if you will not +think this request of mine too troublesome. I know your kind heart. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span>I would spare you any anxiety about so unworthy a person as +myself, but I must entreat your goodness to consider me in this my +severest misery. Have pity upon me! Oh! do come! Only let me see +your dear face once more, and it will ever be a comfort and +satisfaction to your poor unhappy servant,</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole.</span></p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">To Mrs. Cobbold</span>, Cliff, Ipswich."</p> +</div> + +<p>On Tuesday, the 26th of May, this benevolent lady paid poor Margaret her +last visit. She felt that it would be the last time she should ever see +her in this world. It was a painful interview, and one that she would +have spared herself, had it not been for the hope of comforting the mind +of her disconsolate servant. She found her seated upon the chest which +she had sent her from the Cliff a few days before. Her eyes were swollen +with weeping; and, as she rose to meet her beloved mistress, she +trembled and tottered from the weakness of agitation. Her mistress +gently seated her again, and took her seat beside her.</p> + +<p>“Oh! my dear lady!" she began, “my time is come, and I feel just as if +my heart would burst. Surely this must be worse than death!”</p> + +<p>“Do not say so, Margaret. Remember all the advice I have given you, and +I have no doubt that you will find yourself rewarded with different +treatment to that which you expect.”</p> + +<p>“But I shall never see you nor any of my dear friends again. This is my +sorrow.”</p> + +<p>“But we shall hear from you often, Margaret.”</p> + +<p>“And shall I hear from you, dear lady? Will you remember me? Will you +not forget your poor servant? Oh! she will never forget you, never cease +to bless you!”</p> + +<p>“I will write to you, Margaret, as soon as I hear of your arrival.”</p> + +<p>“Bless you, dear lady! God bless you! But when I look at you, and think +of your dear face, it is like the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> sun for ever hidden from my sight +when you leave me.”</p> + +<p>“The same sun, Margaret, will shine upon us both. He will visit you +while I am asleep, and me when you are at rest. The same God who causes +him to shine upon us all will be, as he is, alike merciful to us both, +though we live in different lands. Let me entreat you, as my last solemn +injunction, never to forget your duty to Him. Read your Bible whenever +you can. You will have much time and opportunity upon your voyage, and I +hope you will employ them to the best purposes. You will find in your +chest many good books. They will be a great source of comfort to you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! that I will, dear lady! and when I think of you who gave them to +me, and of the dear friends who have visited me, and of that good lady +you introduced to my cell, Mrs. Sleorgin, who brought me yesterday this +packet of books. Oh! how dearly shall I desire to see you and them!”</p> + +<p>“Think, too, Margaret, what pleasure it will give us all to hear that +you are doing well, that all the instructions of your kind friends have +not failed. You will be able to add greatly to my comfort by this. You +will also add to my knowledge many things of which I have at present +very imperfect information. You will inform me of the state of that new +country. Surely this will give you some pleasure, and profit me also.”</p> + +<p>“Dear lady! you are so good! You make me almost wish to live, if only +for the pleasure of serving you. If it were but permitted me to come to +England once more, I do think my journey would seem nothing to me. It +looks such a dreary prospect to be deprived of all whom we love, that I +feel faint at the idea of loneliness in a foreign land.”</p> + +<p>“Exercise your faith, Margaret, and you will never be alone. All lands +will be pleasant to you.”</p> + +<p>“None so pleasant as my own: but I will try, I do try, I will hope. You +are so kind to me, my dear mistress! Give my duty to my good master; my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> +love to all the dear, dear children. Oh! forgive me, my dear lady! I +cannot help crying; tears do me good.”</p> + +<p>Those friends (for so, in spite of the difference in their station and +their character, we must venture to call them) parted from each other +for the last time on earth; but they lived to correspond, by letter, for +many years after, and both felt an increased interest for each other’s +happiness.</p> + +<p>The hour of Margaret’s departure arrived. The worthy chaplain was the +last person whom Margaret saw in the cell of her prison. Her uncle and +aunt Leader saw her the day before. The worthy chaplain presented her +with the remainder of the judge’s present. She had long learned to look +upon his sentence in a different light to that in which she had once +viewed it; and now, with feelings greatly subdued, she knelt with the +good chaplain, and prayed earnestly that she might never forget the +lessons he had given her. She prayed fervently for pardon for all her +sins, and that she might for ever leave them behind her, and thenceforth +lead a new and better life. Then, turning to Mr. Sharp, she said—</p> + +<p>“One favour more, sir: your blessing.”</p> + +<p>“May God bless you, Margaret,” said the good chaplain, “and make you, +for the remainder of your days, an instrument of good, to His own glory +and the benefit of your fellow-creatures! Amen. Farewell.”</p> + +<p>On Wednesday, May 27, Mr. Ripshaw left Ipswich with three female +prisoners in his charge, Margaret Catchpole, Elizabeth Killet, and +Elizabeth Barker. He took them to Portsmouth, and saw them safe on board +the convict-ship, bound for Botany Bay.</p> + +<p>Margaret had not left the New Gaol, two hours before the turnkey was +summoned to the lodge, and opened the door to a tall, thin man, dressed +in the poorest garb, who with a voice soft and gentle, meek and +melancholy, requested to see Margaret Catchpole.</p> + +<p>“She is just departed with the governor for Portsmouth. Who are you?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I am her brother. My misfortunes are indeed heavy: I am just returned +from India. I find my father gone, my brothers gone, and this my only +sister, worse than all! Oh, bitter cup! gone in disgrace from the +country!”</p> + +<p>“Pray walk this way. I will introduce you to our chaplain, and some +consolation may be found for you.”</p> + +<p>The melancholy truth was soon explained. Charles Catchpole, alias Jacob +Dedham, alias Collins Jaun, the spy, whom the reader may recognize as +mentioned in a former part of this history, returned to his native +country literally a beggar. He went out to India, and, upon his arrival +in that country, his friend, Lord Cornwallis, had resigned his high +office, and returned to England. The account he gave of himself was +singularly eventful. He assumed the appearance of a native chief, joined +some of the roving tribes of warlike adventurers, and became a +conspicuous character. He fell in love with a nabob’s daughter, and +married her according to the national customs and ceremonies; but his +ill-assorted match did not long prosper. His origin and connexion with +the English were discovered, and the spy had to fly the country for his +life. He escaped, gained his passage home, and had spent his last +shilling in the very public-house at St. Mary Elms where he received his +first as an enlisted recruit. His case was that day mentioned to several +individuals, amongst others to Edward Bacon, Esq., who had spent many +years in India, who pronounced him no impostor. He employed him many +days in taking a view of Ipswich and its environs, which he did with +extraordinary accuracy, from Savage’s windmill on Stoke Hills. This view +was presented by that gentleman to the author of these pages, and it +presents all the striking accuracy and patient persevering +characteristics of a self-taught artist.</p> + +<p>By his own industry, and the generosity of others, he gained a few +pounds, with which he determined to settle in one of the colonies. He +obtained a passage to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> the Cape of Good Hope; but the poor fellow met +with a severe accident in falling down the hold of the vessel, broke his +back, and died upon the passage.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Thus ended the career of Margaret Catchpole in England, where her +virtues will long be remembered, together with her crimes. What remains +of her history will serve to show what fruits may be gathered from a +faithful spirit, a good heart, a high courage, and a strong +understanding, when disciplined in the school of adversity, and under +the guidance of good principles, seasonably instilled by kind and +judicious monitors. It will be seen that her chief temptation having +been mercifully removed, a true repentance, and an entire alteration of +life and character, entitled her to the full forgiveness, and even +approbation, of her fellow-creatures.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX<br /><span style="font-size:70%">BANISHMENT</span></a></h2> + +<p>The first news which reached England concerning Margaret was contained +in a letter written by herself, by which it appears she had obtained a +situation at the Orphan Asylum; and, as it will best explain her +feelings and situation at that time, the reader shall be furnished with +a copy of it. The sheet upon which it is written contains two letters; +one to her mistress, directed to her master; the other to Dr. Stebbing.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Sydney</span>, Jan. 21st, 1802.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Honoured Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“With pleasure I cannot describe, I am permitted to take up my pen +and write to you, to acquaint you with my arrival in safety at Port +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span>Jackson, Sydney, New South Wales, on December 20, 1801. As I left +the ship, and was about to be landed, the shore, as I approached +it, put me very much in mind of the Cliff on the banks of the river +Orwell. The houses, backed by the hills, so much resembled that +happy spot, that it put me in good spirits; and had I but seen your +smile to welcome me, I should have been happy indeed. But I thought +of you, of your prayers, your advice, your kindness and +consolation; and when I saw land so much like my own dear native +home, I really felt as if I was not entirely banished from old +England.</p> + +<p>“Your advice relative to my conduct on board the convict-ship was +strictly followed; and every morning I prayed that I might keep it, +and every evening I thanked God for his help. I had much influence +with the female convicts who came out with me, and prevented many +murmurs and one outbreak among them. So that, you see, dear lady, +others reaped the benefit of your instructions as well as myself.</p> + +<p>“Captain Sumpter gave me a good character to the governor; so that +I was not two days upon the stores, but was taken off them by Mr. +John Palmer, a gentleman of the highest respectability in the +colony. He came out as purser in the <i>Sirius</i>, with Captain Arthur +Phillip and Captain John Hunter, in January, 1787. Captain Phillip +was the first governor of this place. Mrs. Palmer is very kind to +me, and is as benevolent as yourself. She is a niece of a famous +physician in London, Sir William Blizzard; and she says, dear lady, +that she has heard her uncle speak of you. Only think that I should +be so fortunate as to find a good mistress, who had some knowledge +of you, even in this distant land! I feel this a great blessing.</p> + +<p>“After the loss of the <i>Sirius</i>, on a reef off Norfolk Island, Mr. +and Mrs. Palmer undertook the management of the Female Orphan +Asylum. This institution was established by Governor King, who +purchased, for the residence of my master and mistress, the elegant +house in which they now live, of Lieutenant Kent, who returned to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span>England two years since in the <i>Buffalo</i>. He had built it entirely +at his own expense, but he found that the country did not agree +with him.</p> + +<p>“You know, my dear lady, how fond I always was of children, and +here I have many cheerful young faces around me. We have already +sixty female children, who are taken as good care of as if they +were all one family belonging to Mrs. Palmer. So you see how +happily I am employed. Have I not reason to be thankful to God for +His great mercies to so unworthy a creature as myself? I know you +will rejoice to hear of my situation. You desired me to write +anything I could for your instruction. I wish my opportunities were +greater, that my letter might be more entertaining; but Mrs. Palmer +has afforded me some facilities, and I hope, when I write again, to +give you the benefit of them.</p> + +<p>“This country is much more like England than I expected to find it. +Garden-stuff of all kinds, except gooseberries, and currants, and +apples, are abundant. The gardens, too, are remarkably beautiful; +the geraniums run up seven or eight feet in height, and look more +magnificent than those which I used to see in your own greenhouse. +The country is very woody, so that I cannot go out any distance +from Sydney without travelling through woods for miles. They are +many of them very picturesque, and quite alive with birds, of such +exquisite plumage that the eye is constantly dazzled by them.</p> + +<p>“I assure you, my dear lady, that, in taking a ramble through them +with my mistress and some of the elder orphans, I felt just as I +imagine your own dear children used to feel when they walked with +me to the Grove near Hog Island, I was so pleased with the birds, +and trees, and flowers. I only wish I could send you one of the +beautiful parrots of this country, but I have no means of so doing +at present, as my money is all laid out for my future benefit. I +have no money given to me for wages. I have board and lodging; and, +if I conduct myself well, Mrs. Palmer says she will lay up a little +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span>store against the day of my emancipation or my marriage. With +God’s help, in whom I trust, I am determined to be independent of +all men. I have no desire to be married and settled, as some people +seem to say I shall be. I have no wish of the kind, neither do I +now nor do I hope to desire any better situation than that I now +enjoy, unless it were a return to England.</p> + +<p>“I grieve to say, my dear lady, that this is one of the wickedest +places in the world. I never heard of one, excepting those of Sodom +and Gomorrah, which could come up to it in evil practices. People +are so bold, so shameless, and so sinful, that even crime is as +familiar as fashion in England. Religion is the last thing thought +of, even by the government, which sends out criminals that most +want it. The Rev. Mr. Johnson, who is almost the only clergyman in +the whole country, comes frequently to the Foundling Asylum; but he +tells my mistress that the town of Sydney is like a place of +demons. Government is at great expense in the police establishment, +to keep our poor bodies in subjection; but I am sure, if our souls +were but a little more thought of, government would find us ten +thousand times better subjects.</p> + +<p>“Is it not dreadful, dear lady, that in such a country as this so +many souls should utterly perish? Surely it will never be blessed +with the blessing from Heaven, until God shall induce our +government to send us out some able ministers of the Gospel. I will +write more upon this subject at another time. I trust in God, who +has brought me over the broad sea, that He will keep me from all +evil upon this wide land.</p> + +<p>“The wheat harvest was almost over when I landed. Wheat is here +eight shillings per bushel at this time. There are two crops, I +understand, each summer, one of wheat and another of Indian corn. I +am told that the winter is very short; I cannot give you any +certain information yet, as I have been only one month in the +country. This letter, for the same reason, will be but a poor one; +my next will, I hope, be more worthy your perusal. I will make +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span>minutes, according to your wishes, of all things which come under +my observation. Never, never, my dearest lady, shall I forget your +goodness to me, and especially on the last day before I left +Ipswich.</p> + +<p>“All the things you gave me arrived in safety with me, and are of +great service to me. Oh! how I wish that many poor creatures, whom +I see around me, had some of the blessings which I have! There are +some who have been here for years, who have their poor heads +shaved, and are sent up the Coal River. They have to carry coals +from daylight until dark. They are badly fed; and though very bad +men, who actually sell their rations of bread for three days for a +little rum, yet they ought not to be left without instruction, as +they totally are, until they perish.</p> + +<p>“Norfolk Island is a terrible place to be sent to. Those only who +are incorrigible are sent to this place, with a steel collar round +their necks, to work in gangs.</p> + +<p>“I have no government work to do; nor has the officer of government +anything to do with me. When there is a general muster of the +convicts, then only I shall have to appear, and give account of +myself. Some days I am permitted to go and see a friend at a +distance, if I have any, either at Paramatta, twenty miles, Gabley, +thirty, or Hawkesbury, forty miles from Sydney; but then I shall +have to get a passport, or I should be taken up, and put into +prison as a runaway. A very little will get a person into prison +here; but it requires a great deal of interest to get him out +again.</p> + +<p>“I want to say a great deal more, but time will not permit me, for +I expect the ship to sail very soon, I have been very ill since I +came on shore. At one time I was thought to be dying; but by the +blessing of God and the attentions of my mistress, I am now strong +again. I was very well during my whole voyage, though we were +tossed about tremendously in the Bay of Biscay. I was very glad to +see land, after so many months’ confinement; yet I should not mind +just such another voyage at this moment, if it were but to bring me +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span>back again to dear old England. I cannot say yet that I like this +country, or that I think I ever shall; God only knows. The governor +has a great many very beautiful cows, and so has Mr. Palmer, who is +very partial to agricultural pursuits. There are a great many +horses at Sydney, and some very neat whiskeys and little +clay-carts. There are a great many passage-boats, but all numbered +and registered, and secured, lest the convicts should use them to +attempt their escape.</p> + +<p>“Pray, my dear madam, let good Doctor Stebbing have the other side +of this sheet. I hope this will find you and all your good family +well. Pray, my dear lady, do not forget your promise of writing to +me by the first transport-ship that comes out; and direct to me at +Mr. Palmer’s, Female Orphan Asylum, Sydney; and with deep love to +all my friends, I remain</p> + +<table class="signature40" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>"Your faithful servant,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad6">"<span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>."</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>The following is her letter to Dr. Stebbing, written on the same sheet +of paper:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,</p> + +<p>“This is to acquaint you with our safe landing at Sydney, on the +20th of December, and that we all arrived in good health. Barker +bore the voyage the worst of the three, and was so terrified at the +sea that she could scarcely bear to look at it; and whenever it was +rough she would never be persuaded to come on deck. She used +frequently to cry out that she wished you were near her. She is +just the same as ever, now she is on land: I regret to say, no +better. Elizabeth Killet lives very near to me, and is very well. +She and I were both taken off the stores on the same day. We have +not to go to government work, as the horses do; but we have both +obtained respectable places, and I hope we shall continue in them.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry to say that Barker has to spin for government, her +character not being such as to deserve a good report: she is still +upon the stores. But she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> can get her stint of work done by one +o’clock if she chooses to work hard at it, and then her time is her +own till six. Pray, sir, give my kind remembrance to all my +fellow-prisoners, and tell any of them that may be sentenced to +come out to this country not to be dead-hearted, as I was, about +Botany Bay; for if they are sent out, and will only conduct +themselves well, they will be better off than in prison.</p> + +<p>“The greater part of this country is not yet explored; and if +inhabited, it is by natives of a very low caste and hideous +features. Those that I have already seen are of a very ferocious +aspect. They carry along with them spears of great length, made of +hard wood, and a sort of hatchet, made of bone, stone, or very hard +wood. They look half-starved, and have very long, lank visages, +most hideously distorted by various customs; such as knocking out a +front tooth to denote their arrival at manhood, painting their +brows, and putting quills through the cartilage which separates the +nostrils of their wide-distended noses.</p> + +<p>“Their females, I am told, are in a very degraded condition, and +are generally stolen from other tribes, and brutally treated, being +beaten into immediate subjection by their husbands, who steal them. +The men seem to me a very subtle race. If they meet an unarmed +white man at a distance from home, they will spear and rob him. +They behave themselves well enough when they come into the town, +and visit, as they do sometimes, the Female Orphan Asylum, where I +live. If they did not they would soon be punished; still they are +very sly and treacherous, and can take up things with their long +toes as easily as we do the same with our hands.</p> + +<p>“They often have a grand fight among themselves, either to gratify +their leader or to settle some dispute between the tribes. Twenty +or thirty join in the fight, whilst all the others look on, as if +it was only a game of play; but some of them are sure to be killed. +There is nothing said or done to them for killing each other in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span>this manner. What horrible barbarians they must be!</p> + +<p>“The crops of wheat are very good in this country. Forty bushels +per acre are commonly grown; it is a very fertile place, and +fruitful in every respect. I will write more fully of the country +another time. Population increases rapidly. Some things, which we +cannot obtain, are very dear: tea is 25<i>s.</i> per pound; sugar, +2<i>s.</i>; salt beef, 1<i>s.</i>; and mutton, 2<i>s.</i> per pound. A pair of +shoes, 15<i>s.</i>; 10<i>s.</i> a pair of stockings; 5<i>s.</i> for a yard of +common print; calico, 3<i>s.</i> per yard; soap, 3<i>s.</i> per pound; +onions, 6<i>d.</i> per pound; potatoes, 2<i>d.</i> per pound; a cabbage, +6<i>d.</i>; rum, 5<i>s.</i> per bottle; a quart of porter, 2<i>s.</i> Fish is as +cheap as anything we can buy; but we have no money here to trade +with.</p> + +<p>“Pray, my dear sir, remember me to Mrs. Ripshaw, and tell her that +one of Mr. Ripshaw’s daughters, who lives up in the country here, +paid a visit to the Orphan Asylum last week. She asked me, when she +heard my voice, if I was not a Suffolk woman. This led to my +knowledge of her being the daughter of Mr. Ripshaw’s first wife. +Pray, write to me as soon as you can. I shall never forget your +goodness to me, from the day I rode the pony to your door till the +day I left Ipswich. I shall never forget your dear daughter, so +clever, so kind to every one. Remember me to your faithful servant, +who was such a friend to me, and give my duty to all inquiring +friends. We had not a single death in our ship, though we had near +two hundred females on board.</p> + +<p>“Just as I am writing this a messenger has come flying into the +town to say that the Blacks have killed eight men, women, and +children. One man’s arms they have cut, and broke his bones, and +have done the same by his legs up to his knees. The poor fellow is +just now carried past to the hospital, but he looked more dead than +alive, and death would be a blessing to him. The governor has sent +out troops after them, with orders to shoot all they can find. I +hope I may be able to give you a better account of the natives when +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span>I write again. Pray send me word if you know where Dinah Parker +and her child were sent to. Give my love to my uncle and aunt +Leader. My brother Edward should not have deserted me; I always +loved him affectionately. God bless you, dear doctor, and direct +your letter to me at Mr. John Palmer’s, Female Orphan Asylum, +Sydney; and ever think of me as your faithful and humble servant,</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>.</p> + +<p>“To <span class="smcap">John Cobbold, Esq.</span>, Cliff, Ipswich.<br /> +"Favoured by <span class="smcap">Captain Sumpter</span>.”<br /></p> +</div> + +<p>By her good conduct in her new situation as cook and superintendent over +the dairy of Mr. John Palmer, she was found to be a very useful and +confidential person, and was soon looked upon as likely to be a very +valuable wife for a free settler. Her fondness for children, and her +management of them, came under the particular notice of Mrs. Palmer, +who, without any family of her own, had from the most humane and +benevolent motives undertaken the entire management of the Orphan +Asylum. She found Margaret as willing and as well qualified an assistant +as she could wish for.</p> + +<p>This school was founded in the year 1800, by Governor King. It was for +sixty female orphans. A grant of 15,000 acres of land was given to this +foundation for the maintenance and support of the children. They were to +be educated usefully and respectably, brought up to industrious habits, +and to receive the best religious instruction which could be obtained +for them. Few things in Sydney gave such general satisfaction as this +benevolent institution; few things at that period more tended to the +amelioration of the conduct of those who, from being the offscourings of +such a densely-peopled country as England, were of course so deeply +depraved as to be very difficult to recover from their evil habits. +Destitute female children were taken into this establishment. A portion +was given to each one brought up in this place of 100 acres of land, on +her marriage-day, provided she married a free settler, and was herself a +good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> character. This was a great inducement for the elder ones to set a +good example, as well as to induce young free men to be approved of by +the governor as worthy to receive so great a boon. Hence, in later days, +have arisen many sterling characters in the neighbourhood of Sydney.</p> + +<p>In this benevolent arrangement, the governor was mainly prompted and +assisted by a free settler, who had been eight years in the colony, and +was one of the first who arrived in the <i>Bellona</i> transport, in 1793, +and settled upon a spot then called Liberty Plains. This was no other +than the reader’s friend, and we hope his favourite, John Barry, whose +steady and upright character was observed by the governor; he was taken +into his confidence, and was a most admirable pattern for all settlers. +For his strict integrity and early business habits, he was chosen as the +great government agent for the distribution of lands; and he it was who +suggested to Governor King the plan of forming this Orphan +Establishment. In the sale of every 180 acres to free settlers, this +gentleman was allowed a certain percentage, which in a short time +realized to him a considerable property, in addition to that which he +had already acquired.</p> + +<p>John Barry was also the first to propose, and to assist with his wealth, +the building of the first church, that of St. John’s, at Sydney. He +often lamented that government would not make a noble grant of land for +church purposes, and in that early day he tried hard for a public grant +for the Church of England, and mourned over the supineness of colonial +legislation upon such a vital subject. Had this good man lived but to +see the arrival of a British Bishop of Australia, it would have added +one more joy to the many which his good conduct provided for him; +indeed, he always said that such would be the case. Mr. Barry had a very +handsome house at Windsor, on the green hills of Hawkesbury; also a fine +estate, consisting of the most extensive pastures and the finest corn +district in the whole region.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span></p> + +<p>John Barry had kept his solemn word with Margaret, and had never entered +into any matrimonial alliance, though he was looked upon as the most +eligible match in the whole colony.</p> + +<p>And this was the person formerly known to the reader as Jack Barry, the +young farming lad, the son of the miller at Levington Creek, on the +River Orwell. With small means, good introductions, steady conduct, and +active habits, this youth rose from the day he purchased his first +hundred acres in the colony until the day of his death. Two of his +sisters had gone out to him before Margaret’s committal to prison for +any offence, and all that they could tell him of her was that she was at +service at the Cliff at Ipswich, and that Laud was in the British navy. +This gave him unfeigned pleasure, though it did not permit him to hope +that he should ever see Margaret.</p> + +<p>Had he been certified of Laud’s death, there is little doubt that he +would have returned to England. But his own family, in their +correspondence with him, never mentioned either one or the other person.</p> + +<p>Indeed, after Margaret became so notorious in the county of Suffolk, +they never named her to him, or sent him the papers which mentioned any +word concerning her. He very seldom named her to his sisters. He knew +nothing of her career, and she had actually been living some years +within a short distance of his own residence in Australia, without his +either seeing or hearing anything of her. In her most confidential +communications with Mrs. Palmer, she had never mentioned his name, or an +explanation must have taken place. She had the narrowest chance of +meeting him in July, 1803, when Mr. Barry came to inspect the Asylum. A +day only before he came, Margaret had been sent to a free settler’s, a +relation of Mrs. Palmer’s, who had the misfortune to lose his wife, and +being left with two very small children, he wanted a person like +Margaret to take care of them, and to superintend his domestic concerns. +Mrs. Palmer consented to let Margaret go, if she would, at least for a +time, until her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> relative could meet with an eligible person. This +gentleman’s name was Poinder, and his house was at Richmond Hill. +Margaret did not raise any objection, though all felt sorry to part with +her from the Asylum; she went to oblige her mistress, and received a +handsome present from her at parting.</p> + +<p>The first money which this faithful creature received was devoted to the +purchase of many curious things for her dear mistress in England. These +she treasured up, anticipating the pleasure of forwarding them from +Sydney, when she had obtained sufficient to fill a chest.</p> + +<p>Though many letters and presents had been sent from her friends in +England, it would appear by a letter to her uncle Leader, dated December +20, 1804, that she never received any of them. That uncle conveyed her +letter to Mrs. Cobbold, who took a copy of it, from which it is here +transcribed. Three years had passed away since the date of her first +letter, and the poor creature had been vexed greatly at the non-arrival +of any tidings from her friends.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Sydney</span>, December 20th, 1804.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">My dear Uncle and Aunt</span>,</p> + +<p>"With great pleasure I once more take up my pen to write to you, +and all your dear children, as well as all inquiring friends, +hoping that they may all be in as good health as I am at the time +this letter leaves this country. I bless God, dear uncle, for his +past and present mercies towards me, which have been and are very +great. I am as young as I ever was; indeed I may say that I am in +spirit, if not in body, younger, freer, and happier, than I ever +was at any former period of my life. I should be almost ready to +jump over St. John’s Church, which is the first church built in +this country, if I could only hear from you, or some of my dear +friends in England. You may well suppose how overjoyed I should be +to snatch up any tidings of any of you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I cannot think why I have not heard from some of you. England is, +I know, in a very disturbed state and engaged in a maritime war. +This is the fourth time I have written. I sent a letter by Captain +Sumpter, on the return of the vessel I came by; my next I sent by +the <i>Glutton</i>, and my next by the <i>Calcutta</i>. I did hope that I +should have received a letter before this time. My anxieties have +been so great as almost to make me go out of my mind; for I see so +many letters arriving from London, but none for poor me. I should +be unhappy indeed if I thought that no friends in England cared for +me.</p> + +<p>“I am so grieved and disappointed that my dearly loved mistress has +not written to me once since we parted! I cannot bring myself to +believe that if she is alive, and is able, she has not already done +so. I fear that some accident has occurred to the ship by which she +has written to me, and that she is waiting for some reply. Do not +neglect me this time, dear uncle, for it makes me very unhappy to +think that I cannot hear from you, or any of my friends in England.</p> + +<p>“I am in great hopes that, if I continue in the same state that I +am now in, and, if it please God, have the same approbation of my +employers, who are high in the governor’s favour, I shall have the +unspeakable joy of seeing you all again. The thought of such a +blessing makes my hand tremble, and the tears run down my cheeks so +fast, I cannot see the end of my pen. Governor King is a very good +man; he is very merciful to those who deserve it, even to those who +are, as I am, transported for life. There are many who have been +granted their free pardon with power to settle in the colony. Some +who have distinguished themselves by exemplary conduct, and have +rendered public service to the settlement, not only receive their +free pardon, but are permitted to return, if they wish it, to their +native land. The anticipation of such an event would prompt me to +any service.</p> + +<p>“The young man who brings this letter to England was transported +for life. He was in the governor’s service, and discovered a +robbery of the government<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> stores, for which he has received a full +and free pardon. He lived one year at John Palmer’s, Esq., where I +have been living; his name is William Underwood. He was very much +approved while in my master’s service, and was taken thence into +the governor’s establishment. He is a good young man, and was +betrayed into a crime by a butler, who employed him to rob his +master, in London. He promises to convey this letter to England, +and to post it for you, so that I do hope this will certainly come +to hand.</p> + +<p>“I have left Mrs. Palmer’s service for a time, at her own +particular request, and am now living as housekeeper to a young +friend of hers, who married her niece. He is a free settler. His +wife was a very sickly lady, and had, since she resided in this +spot, fallen into a rapid decline; indeed she was in a poor state +of health during her sea-voyage. She was a good and amiable lady, +and her loss is a great misfortune to the young man, and much +sorrow to my dear Mrs. Palmer.</p> + +<p>“The free settlers are the great farmers of this country; they have +one hundred acres of land as a grant, with power to purchase as +many more as they can; they have to clear away the woods, and burn +up the stumps, before they can grow corn, though the swine thrive +well in the thick bush. We begin to set wheat in March or April, +and the harvest comes on in November; and as soon as that is +cleared off, they set fire to the stubble, and burn it on the land, +and then put in fresh corn directly. They do not plough it, but +dibble the corn in without cleaning it, as the burning straw +destroys the roots of all the weeds.</p> + +<p>“In clearing new land, it is broken up by men with very large hoes, +and it is the hardest work that is done in the country. A great +price is paid for this labour, and men work too hard at it. They +frequently destroy their health and their lives, by their +over-exertion to get rich enough to buy farms for themselves. This +has been done by some robust men, but others fall a prey to the +toil.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span></p> + +<p>“This is a very dangerous country at present to settle in. The +natives, who are almost black, wear no covering, but go, most of +them, in a state of nudity. They paint their bodies with a +light-coloured ochre, marking out the ribs and bones so strongly, +that at a little distance in the shade they look like so many +moving skeletons. They are a most miserable, half-starved race of +men, but very active, very treacherous, and very bold. They seem to +have no shame. They used to bear a deadly hatred to the white +people; and if all I hear be true of some of the dealings of our +colonists with these poor wretches, I am not surprised at it.</p> + +<p>“They are much more reconciled to us than they were, and actually +send some of their young children to be instructed in our schools. +I do not think, however, that the race will ever amalgamate with +our own, it appears such an inferior and unsettled one. As we +advance our settlers towards the Blue Mountains, these people will +recede from us, and being divided into many tribes hostile to each +other, will never be able to unite their forces against us.</p> + +<p>“This country is full of curious animals. I have already collected +some skins for my dear mistress at the Cliff. I never get a fresh +one without blessing her name, and hoping that, poor as I am, I may +yet give her some little pleasure.</p> + +<p>“Among the snakes, few are venomous. I have seen but one, which I +am told is a very dangerous foe. Him I had a personal conflict +with, and thank God I came off victorious. I was walking with two +young children of my master’s, not very far from the newly-enclosed +lands. The children were a few yards in advance of me, gathering +flowers for me, when a large black snake flew at me from the foot +of a tree, just as if it had been a dog. I had nothing in my hand +but a thin stick which I had broken off one of the fresh shoots of +a stump of a tree, which had been cut down the last winter; but I +was afterwards told that it was the very best weapon of defence +that I could have.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> He rose upon his tail, and darted at my face, +as if he aimed at my eyes; but just as he came within reach, I gave +him a cut over a white line at the back of his neck, which +attracted my attention; he made a beautiful curve, like the bending +of a fountain, when it has reached its height, and then fell in a +straight stiff line, licking the dust.</p> + +<p>“It was providential that I hit him where I did, for my master told +me it was the only place that I could have killed him on so +suddenly. He told me that he was the most venomous snake in the +country, and that, had I not broken his neck as I did, either the +children or myself would have been killed. His bite is attended +with swelling and blackness of the body, and when the sun goes down +death ensues. How merciful that the dear children had passed by him +without provoking an attack! The whole of that night I did nothing +but lie and think of this event, and thank God for my deliverance.</p> + +<p>“Some of the snakes which I have seen are full twelve feet long, +and thicker than a stout man’s arm. These are not venomous, but +they would soon strangle a child. Some of our workmen have had +severe encounters with them.</p> + +<p>“I have collected a good many curiosities of this country, and have +skinned the birds and smaller animals myself, and preserved their +skins, as dear Doctor Stebbing directed me; and if I can once get a +letter from England to assure me that I live in the memory of my +friends, I will soon pack them off to my good and learned mistress. +People laugh at me sometimes for giving the value of a quarter of +an acre of land for the skin of a dead animal; but they know not +the pleasure I derive from the joy of pleasing those I love.</p> + +<p>“Give my love to my aunt and the dear children, and for their +sakes, as well as my own, let them see this long letter. It may +teach them to be very thankful to God; then they will bless poor +Margaret, their foster-mother, and feel glad that they are so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> +beloved by one so far away from them.</p> + +<p>“This is a very hot country. In the summer, the ground actually +scorches the feet whilst we walk upon it, and creates great +blisters, especially where shoe-leather, which is very scarce and +dear, does not protect the feet. In winter it is very cold. Not +that there is any quantity of snow, but there are very white +frosts, which penetrate to the inmost recesses of our chambers. It +is much colder and hotter than it used to be, since the country is +cleared of its shady woods, and is so much more open. It will be a +very populous and improving country. Even within a year or two, the +people seem to be more moral and domesticated than they were; but +it is a terrible place for drunkards.</p> + +<p>“We want British clergymen; good men of real steady principles, +such as you have in England. The governor orders the Bible to be +read at stated times to the different gangs of convicts; but then +it is a convict who can read better than the rest, and they make a +joke of him! Oh! what a sin it is that so little provision should +be made for that which would be the surest way to reform the +convicts, and to preserve their souls alive! I pray continually for +friends to help us.</p> + +<p>“The trees grow very fast in this country. A few pear-trees and +apple-trees are getting up, and the vine flourishes wherever it is +planted. The oak grows luxuriantly; peaches and apricots thrive; +but gooseberries and currants do not seem to suit the soil. Money +is very scarce. Copper coins are almost the value of silver, and +gold is a thing that I seldom see. Those who trade with India or +China are the only people in the colony who use it. Tea is dearer +here than it is in Old England, though we are so much nearer to the +countries where it is grown. It is a matter of luxurious indulgence +which convicts and servants do not at present enjoy. The native +flax of Norfolk Island is the finest which we can obtain. You must +not suppose that we are badly off, though some commodities may be +very dear; for this country will be, if the world stand, one of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> +richest on the face of the earth: oh that it may be one of the +best! At present it is one of the worst, though improving.</p> + +<p>“Sarah, or, as she calls herself, Elizabeth Barker, and Elizabeth +Killet, are both living. One is doing well; I regret to state the +other does badly.</p> + +<p>“If the young man who brings this should write to you from London, +send an answer to him directly. He intends to return and settle +here. He is a good young man. Singularly enough, he returns to +England to gratify his aged parents with a sight of himself, and +intends to try and persuade one of his female cousins to come out +with him.</p> + +<p>“Pray go to my dear Mrs. Cobbold, and tell her I long to hear of +her and her family. The same of Dr. Stebbing. Be sure and direct +your letters for me at Mrs. Palmer’s Orphan Asylum, Port Jackson, +Sydney. Let all your letters be left at Government House. Mrs. +Palmer will take care of any letters for me. Pray God bless and +keep you all, is the constant prayer of</p> + +<table class="signature40" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>"Your affectionate niece,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad6">"<span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>.</td></tr> +</table> + +<table class="address" summary="address"> +<tr><td>"To <span class="smcap">Mr. William Leader</span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl pad6">"Brandiston, near Woodbridge, Suffolk,<br /></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">England.”<br /></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>By her next letter it appears that Margaret was housekeeper to a young +widower. After living there about one year, her principles were put to a +trial, under which any less firm and stable than hers would have +succumbed. The young widower, finding what a valuable person Margaret +was, resolved to marry her. He did not think it at all necessary to pay +court to one who he thought would feel herself honoured by the proposal; +and as he fully intended to make her the mistress of his establishment, +he at once said to her—</p> + +<p>“Young woman, I am resolved to marry you, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> make you mistress of my +house at Richmond Hill. You need not trouble yourself to make any +preparations. I will see the Rev. Mr. Johnson, the chaplain, and +to-morrow you shall be mistress of my establishment.”</p> + +<p>Startled as Margaret was by this wholly unexpected offer, and by the +terms in which it was couched, she hesitated not a moment in her reply.</p> + +<p>“I have no intention, sir, whatever,” said she, “to marry any one, but +most certainly should not think of marrying you. I was sent here by your +relative, Mrs. Palmer, in the capacity of your servant, and I am willing +to fulfil the duties of that situation; but I should act with great +duplicity towards my mistress, if, without either yourself or me holding +any conversation with her upon the subject, I were to marry you. But, to +be candid with you at once, sir, I tell you I have no intention to +marry, and I will not comply with your demands in this respect.”</p> + +<p>As may be supposed, the young man was not a little astonished; but all +he said was—</p> + +<p>“Then, if you do not, you may go back to Mrs. Palmer, and say I sent +you.”</p> + +<p>This was quite enough for Margaret, who immediately packed up her few +treasures, and started off for Sydney; and her kind friend, Mrs. Palmer, +who was equally astonished and pleased at her conduct, received her +again in a more confidential capacity.</p> + +<p>One thing poor Margaret had deeply to regret about this time, and it +occasioned her many tears of unaffected sorrow. She had, with +persevering care, and at serious cost, collected a great many +curiosities, seeds of plants, shells, fossils, minerals, skins of birds +and lesser animals, all which she had treasured up with the most lively +hope that they would one day reach her dear mistress in England. She +packed them in a strong box, and paid a man to carry them for her to +Mrs. Palmer’s, at Sydney; but they never arrived. The man to whom they +had been entrusted broke open the box, sold the contents to a settler,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> +and invented a plausible tale of his being robbed by some bushmen.</p> + +<p>The name of the gentleman who made Margaret the offer of marriage, above +referred to, was Mr. John Poinder. He died about two years afterwards, +but left his aunt, Mrs. Palmer, sole executrix of his property, and +commended his children to her care. Margaret then returned to Richmond +Hill, to superintend the affairs of the house and the management of the +children, until they should be sent to school.</p> + +<p>It may be here mentioned as one of those singular coincidences to which +Margaret Catchpole’s life had been subjected, that not only on this +occasion of her absence from the Asylum, but on the only other occasion +that she had ever been absent from it, Mr. John Barry visited the +institution, stayed there some time, and left it, without receiving the +smallest intimation that it was, or had been, the residence of the woman +on whom his affections had been fixed from the first moment he beheld +her, and had never swerved up to the period of which we write; and the +subsequent events which we have to record render this coincidence still +more remarkable.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX<br /><span style="font-size:70%">REPENTANCE AND AMENDMENT</span></a></h2> + +<p>Before Margaret left Sydney the second time for Richmond Hill, she had +the inexpressible delight of receiving a ship-chest from England, +containing letters and presents from her beloved mistress and friends. +The good Mrs. Palmer was requested to be present at the opening of the +chest; and never, never did the eager school-boy unpack his parcel from +home with more intense delight than this poor young woman did the box +from England.</p> + +<p>But her first interest was directed towards the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> packet of letters which +the box contained; and, until she had devoured the contents of <i>them</i>, +all else was a matter of comparative indifference to her. There were +letters from her uncle and aunt Leader, from Dr. Stebbing, from several +of her fellow-servants at the Cliff; but above all, in Margaret’s +estimation, there were letters from her dear mistress—the excellent +lady of the Cliff—to whose kindness she owed and felt such lasting +gratitude.</p> + +<p>The reader need not be troubled with a description of the numerous +articles of wearing apparel which the box contained; nor is it needful +to do more than mention that, besides the larger objects, there was an +inner case, containing combs, thimbles, needles, netting needles and +pins, knitting needles, pins, threads, papers of Dutch tape, of Indian +cotton, of coarse threads, pincushions, scissors, knives, and all sorts +of those stores which are so precious to a housewife, when at a distance +from the ordinary sources where they are to be procured.</p> + +<p>Poor Margaret could neither eat nor drink till she had devoured the +contents of her letters. She wept so much during their perusal, that she +was forced to ask Mrs. Palmer to read them to her. This she did with +most sincere pleasure, for they afforded her own good heart instruction +as well as gratification. The letters written to Margaret were such as +would have gratified any intellectual and benevolent mind. They were +much admired by all who read them, but by none more than by the faithful +creature to whom they were directed.</p> + +<p>The following letter was addressed by Margaret Catchpole to Mrs. +Cobbold, shortly after the receipt of the box of treasures just alluded +to:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"October 18th, 1807.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Honoured Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“With the purest pleasure I again seize an opportunity to write to +you. I feel it my duty to do so, as you are my dearest friend upon +earth. Sincerely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> do I thank God for your health and happiness, and +for that of all your good family. I hope and trust in God that I +shall soon hear from you again, for it is my greatest comfort in +this distant land. Oh, my dear lady, how grieved I am to tell you +that there are so many depraved creatures in this country! I have +been robbed of all my collection of curiosities, which I had been +saving up, according to your wishes, and which I intended to have +sent you by the next ship. I am sure you would have thought them +valuable, as they were all so perfect, and the birds in such good +order, skinned, and dried, and perfumed. I will endeavour to +collect them again; but I am so sorry, when I had collected so +many, and had such great pleasure in them, that I should lose them +all through the artful conduct of wicked men!</p> + +<p>“But I will soon be at work again for you. I have no greater joy +than to be waiting upon you; and everything I get, which I think +will be valuable to you, gives me increased satisfaction. You can +scarcely believe what happiness I experience in devoting any +portion of my time to your service. You are never out of my +thoughts, and always in my prayers. My ideas turn toward you from +every place, and in almost everything I see. When I think of the +troubles and trials you must have, with eighteen children around +you, I wonder you can at all think of me. But, dear lady, I do feel +such an interest about you and your family, that I am thankful +whenever you name any of them; and I was so delighted with your +description of them all! Always tell me about them. I sincerely +desire to know how Miss Anne is, and Miss Harriet, and Miss Sophia.</p> + +<p>“Have you any knowledge, my dear lady, of Governor Bligh? Alas! I +have lost a good friend in Governor King. I do think that if a +petition were presented to him in my behalf, so well known as I am +to the late governor, something might be done for me. Every one +tells me that he says my conduct has been so uniformly consistent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> +and good that I deserve a reward. But it requires friends near the +fountain of mercy to make its stream flow towards such as I. I +should be almost ready to die with joy if a pardon were to come to +me, with permission to return to England. I would then gladly come, +and live and die in your service.</p> + +<p>“Since I last wrote to you, I have been living again with Mrs. +Palmer. I sent you, by the ship <i>Buffalo</i>, a small case, containing +the skins of the rarest birds found in this country, together with +an opossum, of a dark colour, and very fierce; also a species of +rat, which very much resembles a diminutive hyena. You will find +two large, magnificent birds, called here the mountain pheasant; +they are only like our English bird in size. The plume of feathers +in the tail of the cock bird would form the most graceful ornament +for a queen’s head-dress. Two noble feathers, somewhat like a +peacock’s, only more brilliant and various in their colours, +surrounded by the most glittering silver lines of curving feathers, +fine as the prairie grass, and sparkling like the waves of the +ocean, ornament the tail of the male bird, whilst the female is +only remarkable for the elegance of her shape, and not for the +beauty of her plumage.</p> + +<p>“In my opinion, this bird is the peafowl of this country, and not a +pheasant. Early in the morning, I have seen him spring from the +thickest brushwood, and wing his arrow-like flight to the tallest +tree, and there he appears to mimic the notes of the various +songsters around him. But the most beautiful attitude that I once +saw him in beats everything I ever beheld of what men term +politeness. I have heard and have read of delicate attentions paid +to our sex by men of noble and generous dispositions; but I +scarcely ever heard of such devoted attention as I one day +witnessed in this noble bird towards his mate. I saw her sitting in +the heat of the meridian sun upon her nest, and the cock bird +seated near her, with his tail expanded, like a bower overshadowing +her; and, as the sun moved, so did he turn his elegant parasol to +guard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> her from his rays. Now and then he turned his bright eye to +see if she was comfortable, and she answered his inquiry with a +gentle note and rustle of her feathers.</p> + +<p>“Was not this a sight calculated to teach us all gentleness? Dear +lady, as I looked upon it, the tears came warmly down my cheeks, as +I thought of your good husband and yourself; and I dreamed of your +writing a poem upon this subject, and reading it to the young +ladies in the school-room. I had often wondered what use the tail +of this bird could be to him. If this be one of its general uses, +surely it is truly ornamental and useful. I hope these birds will +come safe to hand. Captain Brooks of the <i>Buffalo</i>, promised me +faithfully that he would himself forward them into Suffolk. The +thought that they may reach you and give you pleasure will make me +happy for many a long day. Owing to the late floods, every thing is +become very dear: pork, 2<i>s.</i>; beef and mutton, 2<i>s.</i> 3<i>d.</i>; soft +sugar, 6<i>s.</i> and 8<i>s.</i>; tea, £1 10<i>s.</i> per pound; a bushel of +wheat, £1 5<i>s.</i>; printed cotton, 10<i>s.</i> to 12<i>s.</i> per yard; shoes, +for females, 13<i>s.</i> per pair. Scarcely any linen cloth to be had. +Newspapers, of any date, 1<i>s.</i> a-piece.</p> + +<p>“But your chest, just now arrived, contains so many things of +value, that my good Mrs. Palmer has at once proposed that I should +at once open a little shop at Richmond Hill. I wrote word, in my +uncle’s letter, or in my last to you, about my offer of marriage, +but the gentleman is since dead, and has left his property to the +management of Mrs. Palmer. She says I shall have a cottage of my +own, with land attached to it, and begin business for myself. You +know not, dear lady, how valuable all those things are which you +have sent to me. But your letters, and those of Mrs. Sleorgin—oh, +what a comfort they have been to me!</p> + +<p>“I had been very ill before their arrival. About eight months ago, +I took a long journey, for Mrs. Palmer, to arrange something about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> +Mr. Poinder’s children. I walked a distance of thirty miles, and +over-exerted and heated myself very much, so that my body threw out +large blisters, just as if I had been burnt with small coals, and I +was so swelled out that I thought I should have lost my life. I was +under the care of a Mr. Mason, a very clever surgeon; and Mrs. +Palmer was very kind and attentive to me. Blessing be to God! I +recovered; but I am still very subject to cold and inflammation. I +am not permitted to go near the fire.</p> + +<p>“I am to go to Richmond Hill as soon as I can, which will be very +soon. I will write to you again when I am settled there. Only let +me thank you, as I ought, for your great goodness to one so +unworthy of it. If I should prosper, so as to get enough to keep +myself from starving in my old days, how shall I bless God for +raising me up such a friend as you have been to me!</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Palmer says she is very sorry to part with me, but she wishes +to serve me. She is so good to me! She was so pleased to find I was +so respected by such friends as the ladies who wrote to me. She +said she never read such beautiful letters as yours and good Mrs. +Sleorgin’s, and asked me to let her take a copy of them. She had a +great desire to publish them in the Sydney paper, as she thought +they would do so much good to others as well as to myself. She +blessed your spirit, and desired me to say, that she considered me +worthy of all the favour which your generous hand had bestowed upon +me. This was her saying; but it is not my opinion, though I may say +I wish I was worthy. She desired me to say, that if you should see +Sir William Blizzard, a physician in London, he would tell you all +about her. She has promised to do all she can to obtain my +restoration to society. If I could once return to my own native +land, what a happy woman I should be! You add much to my comfort +here; for whenever I have a few moments’ spare time, I am sure to +be seeking for seeds, shells, insects, or curiosities of any kind;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> +and the thought of whom I am serving makes me feel very happy. +Thank God! I keep myself free from all men. I have formed no +acquaintance with any man; and I may sincerely confess to you, my +dear lady, that my early attachment and deep-felt disappointment +have deadened the feelings of my heart to any further matrimonial +speculations. I do not think that any man in the colony could +persuade me to marry. My dear Mrs. Palmer has often spoken to me on +the subject, and I have never concealed the fact, that to my first +attachment I owe my present abode in this colony as a convict. I am +wise enough now to see my own follies, and I pray to God for His +forgiveness. In this colony there are few that remain single from +choice, old or young. Girls of fifteen years become mothers before +they are able to take care of themselves; and I may state it as a +curious fact, that very many whom you would suppose too old to be +mothers, have young families increasing around them.</p> + +<p>“Vegetation in this clime is very abundant; but there are some +fearful drawbacks to our reaping its fruits. We may have a good +crop of grain on the ground to-day, and to-morrow it may be all cut +down by a hail-storm, or destroyed by a blight, or swept away by a +flood. On Monday last, the 16th of this month, a hail-storm passed +over this place, and cut down the wheat just as it was in full +blossom. The stones which fell from the clouds were as big as +pigeons’ eggs, and you may imagine the mischief which ensued. Great +numbers of fowls and small cattle were killed. The harvest will be +about six weeks hence, and will be a lamentably deficient crop. Now +begins our hot season. We dread the attacks of ophthalmia, as the +surgeons call it; we call it commonly the blight in our eyes. We +can find no remedy for it but patience. In one day our eyelids are +so swelled that we cannot see. With some it lasts a week, with +others a month, according to the state of the constitution of the +sufferer. It is a very irritating and painful disease, and none are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> +such dreadful sufferers as those who most deserve it, the habitual +drunkards, of which class I regret to state there are too many in +this country.</p> + +<p>“The natives are much more tractable than they used to be, and not +so savage and uncivilized. They will work but little; I can get +from them, however, the most rare skins of wild animals, such as +the settlers have not patience to pursue. They boast that the white +man is made for drudgery, and the black for liberty. He can roam +through his native woods and subsist without labour, whilst he +supposes that we enjoy no freedom. They have not left off their +barbarous habit of fighting and killing each other for a public +exhibition. I remember that you used to make the young ladies read +of the tournaments in the reign of Elizabeth, and how the knights +sometimes killed each other in this way. Surely those ancestors of +the English had some such spirit as these free blacks of Australia +in this day. These people form a stately circle, and contend most +skilfully and magnanimously, by fixed and settled rules of combat; +and I assure you, dear lady, that their deportment, at such times, +would be no discredit to the most gallant knights of Europe. +Gallantry towards their females, however, is at a very low ebb; +yet, for the honour of the sex, they take no delight in these +pageants of blood and murder. In this respect, degraded as they are +in other things, they are not so bad as some were in the ages of +chivalry.</p> + +<p>“It will not much interest you to know of our farming here, but +some of your friends may like to hear a word about it, though from +such an ignorant being as myself. The price of farming stock is +very high: a sow sells for £10; a ewe for £7; a milch-goat, £3 +10<i>s.</i>; a cow from £60 to £70; a good horse from £100 to £150. But +things will not continue in this state many years, for this is a +most prolific land. You will be more glad to hear of our great +variety of botanical plants. My good lady, Mrs. Palmer, has +promised that her friend, Mr. Mason, who is a good botanist, shall <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> +affix the proper names to each of the specimens which I send.</p> + +<p>“Honoured madam, give my duty to Mrs. Sleorgin, and say how happy I +am to hear from her, and am glad that she approves of my conduct +and pursuits. I love her good advice, and endeavour to keep it. I +am so sorry that I was robbed of all my first treasures for you. My +tears, however, would not bring them back again. I will try again. +Give my duty to dear Doctor Stebbing. Oh that I could see him with +his dog and gun, upon some of our plains, or beating in the bush of +this country! I would get him to kill me many a beautiful bird to +enrich your collection. Give my duty to his daughter. Is poor old +Robinson Crusoe alive? and is Jack Whatcheer? Alas! their memory +brings back painful recollections. So, my dear lady, hoping to hear +from you again, accept the love and duty of your humble and +constant servant,</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>.</p> + +<p>“To <span class="smcap">J. Cobbold, Esq.</span>, Cliff, Ipswich."</p> +</div> + +<p>From this letter it appears that Margaret was then upon the eve of +leaving Sydney for her cottage at Richmond Hill, some forty or fifty +miles up the country. There were a small village and store-rooms on the +banks of the river, and Margaret rented a small house and about twenty +acres of land of her friend Mrs. Palmer, at a very moderate price. Part +of her house was formed into a shop, in which all her little stock in +trade was placed and her little capital invested. The goods which were +sent her from England formed a valuable assortment; and she began by +offering for sale small portions of her general stock, so that her +customers might have the same articles upon another application. Her +house was situated in a very beautiful spot, commanding an extensive +view over a well-watered plain, with the ever-blue mountains in the +distance.</p> + +<p>Margaret remained at Richmond Hill, as her own independent mistress, for +five years. About two years after her residence at this place she wrote +again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> to her mistress, and sent a small drawing of her cottage, which +was taken by one of Mrs. Palmer’s friends for this very purpose.</p> + +<p>The mountain pheasants, which she speaks of in the following letter, +duly arrived by the <i>Buffalo</i>. They were splendid specimens, and were in +a very perfect state. They were preserved in the author’s family for +many years, and may now be seen at the public museum at Ipswich, in +company with many thousands of valuable specimens. The bird itself is +now become very scarce. A live specimen has never been brought to +England.<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Richmond Hill</span>, Oct. 8th, 1809.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Honoured Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“I take up my pen again with new and increased delight, to say that +I duly received another box from you, which arrived at Sydney with +everything in it, according to the inventory, quite safe. A +thousand thanks for it, my dear lady, and all its valuable +contents. It was three years last June since I sent you, according +to your request, a number of our native productions. I had a cedar +case made on purpose,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> strong and stoutly ironed. I was told that +it would preserve the goods in a more perfect state than an oaken +one; but as you say nothing about its arrival in your letter, I fear +that it is lost.</p> + +<p>“I sent it on board the <i>Buffalo</i>, the ship in which Governor King +left the colony. It may, perhaps, yet reach you. I hope it will. +There were many of our Sydney newspapers in it, and a host of +birds’ skins, weapons and knives, and curiosities, which I obtained +from the natives near the Blue Mountains. I can see a great part of +the chain from my chamber-window. Mrs. Palmer undertook to see the +case forwarded to you.</p> + +<p>“This is the second great collection I have made for you; and I +shall not, dear lady, forward any more until I hear of the safe +arrival of the last, it is so very disheartening to find all my +labour and love thrown away. Oh! how I wish that I could be +permitted to bring a cargo home for you! I would part with +everything I have most gladly for such a purpose, but I fear it +will never be; and sometimes my poor heart feels broken, as I sit +alone, pondering over all my hope and fears.</p> + +<p>“My dear landlady, Mrs. Palmer, has given me such a nice drawing of +my cottage and the surrounding country for you! I shall send it; +and I hope you will not think me presumptuous if I ask for one of +the dear, dear Cliff, as I know, my dear lady, that you can so +easily do one for me. If one of the young ladies would be so kind +as to copy it, then I could give Mrs. Palmer one by way of return. +Yours shall hang over my chimney-place; and when I look at it I +shall think of those happy days which I spent there with you for my +friend and mistress.</p> + +<p>“Ah! dear lady, when I was learning so many good lessons under your +eye, little did I think that I should reap the profit thereof in a +foreign land. Your word of approbation was a sort of foretaste of +that which, I hope and trust, we shall both rejoice to hear, ‘Well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> +done, good and faithful servant!’</p> + +<p>“Dear lady, I am very contented, and am getting on well, but we +have all had severe misfortune in this district: first, by the +floods; secondly, by fire; and thirdly, by such a hurricane as +levelled whole acres of timber-trees of enormous size. We were +afraid to remain indoors lest our houses should fall on our heads; +and out of doors we could hardly stand at all. Great trees swept by +us as if they had been straws.</p> + +<p>“The flood in the month of May distressed us very much; but that on +the 31st of July and the 1st of August, the days after the high +wind, was dreadful. It was the greatest ever experienced by any of +the settlers, though the natives speak of one which covered all the +plain from the mountains, and was deeper than our church is high. +The one I have so lately witnessed went over the tops of the houses +on the plain; and many poor creatures were on their chimneys crying +out for mercy, and for boats to go to them. It was shocking to hear +their cries, and it made me feel so wretched at not being able to +relieve them. It was very dangerous to approach them, for sometimes +the eddies were so strong round their houses that boats were swept +away, or swamped in the attempt. I saw one boat completely sunk by +a tree falling upon it, just as it was passing; and had not another +boat been near to take the sufferers off the boughs upon which they +had climbed, they must all have perished.</p> + +<p>“One man, of the name of Thomas Lacey, and his wife and family, +were carried away in a barn. They got upon the mow, and broke a +hole through the thatch. I saw them, dear creatures, holding up +their hands to heaven as they passed us on the sweeping flood, and +imploring our help. It made my spirit rise within me; and I thought +how God had made me instrumental in saving life in former days, and +I could not resist the impulse of that which at first the people +called my madness. I called to some men who were standing near a +boat moored to the bank, and urged them to go with me to the +rescue, but they would none of them stir. I took two long +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> +linen-lines, and tied them together, and requested the people on +the bank to assist me, for I was determined to go alone if they +would not go with me.</p> + +<p>“I jumped into the boat, and then the men were ashamed, and took +their oars, and said they would go without me; but no, that I was +determined they should not do; so the man slackened the rope, as we +were carried by the stream towards the barn, which had fortunately +grounded upon the stump of some large tree which had collected a +quantity of earth so as to form a bank near it. We had hard work to +get up towards the smooth-water side of the barn; but the men kept +the boat close to the side by pushing against the trunk of the +tree; and I stood up at the head of the boat, and received the dear +children into my arms. They were all taken from the thatch, and we +launched again into the eddies.</p> + +<p>“Had it not been for the line, we should have been sent down the +stream like an arrow from a bow. All our fear was lest the line +should break, and if it had we could never have rowed up the +stream. Thanks be to the providential mercy of God, we were all +hauled safe to land.</p> + +<p>“Oh! how the dear children did cling to me! They told me that they +saw great alligators come up and look at them; but, poor things! +their terrible situation would make them magnify a floating tree +into an alligator. Horses, cows, sheep, and all kinds of animals, +were hurried along the waters to the sea. I wonder whence all this +body of fresh water can come from! We had no previous rains, and +yet thousands and thousands of acres were covered ten, fifteen, and +twenty feet deep with these floods.</p> + +<p>“I brought Mr. Lacey’s family to my own house. You know, my dear +lady, how fond I am of children. I take care of them, and they +assist me, until their father shall have got another habitation to +take them to. Some poor creatures expired just as help reached +them. They got on to houses, barns, stacks, and trees, and were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span> +often swept off all these resting-places. Many persons were +drowned; many lost all their property. We were all fearful at one +time that we should be swallowed up. Part of the hill on which my +cottage stands began to cave away, and has left a cliff several +feet high for a long distance. I was very near losing my own life; +for I was standing on the verge of the hill when a part of my own +field close by my feet caved in, and was swept away by the flood. +It seemed to melt away like sugar in a cup; but, God be praised! I +just escaped falling with it. You may believe that it terrified me.</p> + +<p>“I have about twenty acres of land from my dear friend, Mrs. +Palmer, who sends me one man to help me in the cultivation of it. +Some have lost all: my loss is estimated at about fifty pounds. +Everything is now so dear in the colony that my little stock in my +shop is as much as doubled in its value; so that my loss in one way +will be made up in another.</p> + +<p>“We are almost afraid of starvation on account of the many thousand +bushels of Indian corn carried away by the flood. This corn, mixed +with a little wheat, makes most excellent bread. You may imagine, +dear lady, how we suffer, when I state that most of the wheat then +in the ground was completely rooted up and carried away like +sea-weed. All manner of grain has become very dear. Government has +issued a certain quantity for each sufferer for seed-corn.</p> + +<p>“Clothing of all kinds is very scarce; but whilst I am writing, +news has just arrived that a ship has providentially come into port +laden with a vast supply, so that it will soon be the cheapest +thing we can get. I should have done great things this year but for +the flood; but I have every reason to be thankful for that which is +left for me.</p> + +<p>“My prayers, dear lady, are always for your happiness, and for the +good of all your dear family. Pray God that I may have the comfort +to hear from you again! It is the comfort of heaven to me to hear +that you and yours are well. Give my dutiful thanks to that dear +lady, Mrs. Sleorgin, for the handsome <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span>present of books which she +has sent me, and for the letter of good advice which accompanied +it. Assure her, dear madam, that I endeavour to follow her advice +every day. How thankful ought I to be to God that I have such dear +friends who care for me!</p> + +<p>“My health at times is not good, and I am still very thin. Tell Dr. +Stebbing that I walk every day farther than the space between his +house and Nacton Street. God bless him! I have got several packages +of curiosities for him. The greatest pleasure I have in this +country is the hope of hearing from you, dear lady. I shall feed +upon this hope for the next twelve months; and I assure you, when +your letters do arrive, I am just as delighted as a child would be +to hear from an affectionate parent.</p> + +<p>“Give my love and duty to my master, and all the young people who +may chance to know my name, and ever believe me to be</p> + +<table class="signature40" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>"Your affectionate servant,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad4"><span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">John Cobbold, Esq.</span>, Cliff, Ipswich.”<br /></p> +</div> + +<p>The last letter received from Margaret <i>Catchpole</i> is also dated from +Richmond Hill. It breathes the same affectionate attachment and anxiety, +and is given here as worthy of the same attention as the former ones:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Richmond Hill</span>, Sept. 1st, 1811.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Honoured Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“On the 8th of August of this year, 1811, I received my cedar case +that Captain Prichard should have brought. It is almost two years +ago since he landed the troops at Sydney. Mrs. Palmer, my +ever-constant friend, took charge of it for me, until I was enabled +to go down myself. When I received tidings of its arrival, I set +off from my cottage, and walked the whole way, leaving the eldest +child I took from the flood to take care of my house. It is full +fifty miles from Richmond Hill to Sydney. Mrs. Palmer could not +think where the case could have been all that time. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span>But your +letter, my dear madam, has set all our minds easy upon the subject.</p> + +<p>“At first I thought it was the case, and all the things I sent you, +come back again. But bless you, dear lady, for thinking of me! I +was greatly rejoiced when I found that you had received the birds +quite safe, and that they gave you such pleasure. Everything that +you have sent me is quite safe, and so delightfully packed, that I +could see your own dear handiwork in the whole process. All are, I +assure you, very acceptable to me; and many thousand thanks do I +give for them. I never can feel sufficiently thankful to heaven and +you.</p> + +<p>“How deeply do I feel the loss of dear Mrs. Sleorgin! With God’s +help, I will endeavour to follow her good advice to the day of my +own departure, and then I shall meet her again. My loss is, I am +persuaded, her own gain. Her blessings have come here, and will be +fruitful to her own good soul in a happier world. I am very fond of +reading those good books which she has sent me, and I shall always +be reminded of the benevolent donor.</p> + +<p>“Dear lady, I am grieved to hear of the death of poor Miss Anne +that was. She was always the most meek-spirited of all the young +ladies. Master Rowland was always my favourite. He was born in +those happy days when I lived with you; and he, too, is gone. Your +letter conveys very anxious tidings; and though joyful to me to see +your dear handwriting, yet I grieve to find that you have been so +ill. Oh! if there was anything in this country that would do you +good, however difficult it might be to be obtained, I would not +cease using all my efforts until I had got it for you. If I can +find anything at any time which may be new to you, and please your +dear, good mind, anything you have not heard of before, what +pleasure it will be to me!</p> + +<p>“Oh! never can I be dutiful or grateful enough to you for your +goodness to me. God preserve you long to be a blessing to your dear +family and friends!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I am ashamed, my dear madam, to send this hasty scribble into your +hands, but the ship is about to sail directly, and I am hard +pressed for time. I am pleased to think that you got my long list +of dried plants and birds. I am sorry the insects were not better +fastened in the case; I will attend particularly to your +instructions about them for the future. I am living alone, as I was +when I last wrote you, and am getting on well, in a very honest and +independent way of life. People wonder why I do not marry. I cannot +forget my late trials, troubles, and horrors, and I dread forming +any acquaintance with any man. I was happy before such notions +entered my mind, and I have been comparatively happy since I have +had no more notions of the same sort. So I am single and free.</p> + +<p>“The cap you have sent me, which you say is a great favourite of +yours, I put on last evening, and drank my tea in it, with some +tears of reflection. My heart was so full, to think that the work +of your own hands, and that which had graced your own head, should +cover such an unworthy one as mine, it made me feel humble and +sorrowful, as well as joyful and thankful. I must hastily conclude +this letter, as the messenger calls for any ship letters for +Sydney. May the blessings and thanks of your grateful servant reach +your dear heart, from the soul of</p> + +<table class="signature40" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>"Your ever devoted servant,</td></tr> +<tr><td>"<span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">J. Cobbold, Esq.</span>, Cliff, Ipswich.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>It is now time that our attention should be recalled to one whose +conduct has, we trust, already gained him a place in the reader’s +esteem, and who after all must be looked upon as the true hero of our +simple story. John Barry (now most worthy to have that old English title +of Esquire attached to his name, as being the highest which was +acknowledged in the settlement, under the governor) had, as the reader +will remember, arrived at New South Wales, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> settled at Liberty +Plains. He was among the earliest free settlers in the land, and was a +man of such firmness and steadiness of character, of such integrity and +perseverance, that he succeeded far beyond his own most sanguine +expectations, and established for himself such a character for probity, +sagacity, and general worth, that he was consulted upon all the most +interesting concerns of the colony. He it was who suggested to Governor +King the first idea of establishing the “Female Orphan Asylum,” and +proposed attaching one hundred acres of land as a marriage portion for +the children. He it was who laid the second stone of St. John’s Church, +Paramatta. He built the first free-trader that was ever launched from +Port Jackson. That he prospered it is needless to declare, because +industry and integrity, with activity of mind, intelligence, and +sincerity, must prosper in any place. He was a merchant as well as a +great corn grower: he was also, as we have before stated, the government +contractor for land. He never caballed with any one party against +another, for the sake of increasing the price of land, but honestly, in +a straight-forward way, stated the price per acre, the quantities that +parties might have, and the money expected in a given time. He had sold +for the government many thousand acres of the finest tract of land, +which bordered upon the river Hawkesbury, and retained a portion for +himself at Windsor, by the Green Hills, for which he strictly paid the +highest price that was then given for land in that district.</p> + +<p>His residence, called Windsor Lodge, was situated on a very commanding +spot upon the south bank of the river. At a short distance from the +water he had built very large granaries, capable of holding an immense +quantity of grain, and this spot became the great corn-mart of the +country; the grain was thence transported to the coast, and supplied +every port connected with the colony. The Hawkesbury is a noble river, +particularly opposite to Windsor Lodge, the house, or rather mansion, of +the owner of the Green<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span> Hills around. If real worth and talent, if +public and private benevolence, with the most expansive views of men and +things, together with acts of such virtue and dignity as speak the +spirit of true nobility, could be found in any one, they existed in the +mind and heart of that youth, who left the shores of old England a +simple, single-minded Suffolk farmer’s son, to become a man of wealth +and goodness in a distant land.</p> + +<p>It is true that no chivalric deed of arms signalized his career: he was +an enterprising, but a peaceful man; he could boast no long line of +ancestry higher or more exalted than himself. His parents were good, +honest, and virtuous people, and their son bore the same character, but +with the possession of superior information; and may we not, in some +measure, trace the origin of all this man’s virtues and good qualities +to that passion which still, as it was in the olden times, is the parent +and prompter of all that is great and noble, all that is gentle; all, in +short, that distinguishes man from the brutes that perish? Love dwelt, a +pure and holy flame, in the breast of this young man; and change of +scene, change of condition, increase of knowledge, of wealth, and of +circumstances—in short, circumstances which would have changed almost +any other being—changed not him.</p> + +<p>It may seem strange to many that Mr. Barry should have been so long a +leading man in the colony, and in constant communication with England, +and never have heard of the fate of Margaret Catchpole. But when they +understand that all notice of her career had been studiously excluded +from the correspondence of his friends in England; and, moreover, that +convicts of all classes, when they came to Botany Bay, were sent to the +northward to be employed on the government stores, and that the +Hawkesbury was devoted principally to free labourers and settlers, and +that the line of demarcation between convict and free settler was +extremely strict, their surprise will in a great degree cease.</p> + +<p>Beloved and respected by all, as John Barry was,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> the wonder with all +was that he never married. With every comfort around him, with health +and cheerfulness, a goodly person, great repute, and wealth scarcely +equalled by any one in the colony, he still remained a lone man; and but +that he evinced a kind, benevolent, and friendly disposition towards all +their sex, the females would have set him down as a cold ascetic. He was +far from being this kind of person. Love was the ruling principle of his +life; and though he had himself suffered so much from disappointment +that he never had the slightest inclination to address his affection to +another, yet he encouraged social and domestic virtues in others, and +advised many not to follow his bachelor example. His own sisters he had +portioned off handsomely; and one of his greatest relaxations was to +visit their abodes and to delight in their happiness and prosperity.</p> + +<p>In the year 1811, Mr. John Barry was visited with a deep affliction, in +the loss of one of his sisters, who died of fever, leaving a husband and +a young family of seven children. But how surely does good spring out of +seeming evil! Fraught as this event was with the most poignant grief to +John Barry, it was, nevertheless, the ultimate cause of the consummation +of all his hopes, and the completion of that happiness which he had so +richly earned. Deeply desiring the welfare of his sister’s children, and +seeing the forlorn condition to which they were reduced by the death of +their excellent mother, he at once acted with an energy and discretion +which the afflicted husband could not command. He sought to obtain as +speedily as possible some respectable person to take charge of the +family, and he remembered that Mrs. Palmer had mentioned to him a +valuable person, whom she had sent to Richmond Hill, to take charge of +some motherless children related to herself. He therefore went down to +Sydney immediately, and obtained an interview with that lady at the +Orphan Asylum.</p> + +<p>“I think, my dear madam, you mentioned to me, two or three years ago, +that you lost a relative who left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> a young family, and that you sent a +confidential female to superintend and take care of the children?”</p> + +<p>“I did, sir, and a most valuable treasure she has always been to me. She +lived with the husband of my relative for two years as housekeeper and +general superintendent of his establishment. He is, however, since +dead.”</p> + +<p>“And she——”</p> + +<p>“Is still living at Richmond Hill, but perfectly independent. It was a +curious and unprecedented fact in this country, for a young woman in her +situation to refuse the hand of the very man whose family she managed; +but she did so, and to her honour and credit; for the love she bore me +she left his service and returned to live with me. I was, as you may +conceive, greatly pleased with her, and took her still more closely into +my confidence. Two years after this the husband of my late relative +died, leaving his whole property at Richmond Hill to me, for the benefit +of his children, and in case of their death, to me and my heirs for +ever. The poor children, always sickly, died in this house, and the +property is now let to a most respectable tenant. I reserved twenty +acres and a cottage for this young woman, who had acted so generously; +and I do not scruple to tell you, that though she pays a nominal rent to +me for the cottage and land, yet I have always put that rent into the +bank in her name, with the full intention of leaving her the property I +mention.”</p> + +<p>“I am very much obliged to you for the information which you give me. +You have heard that I have lost my youngest sister Maria. She leaves a +disconsolate husband with seven young children, the eldest only eight +years of age. My object in asking about this person was to secure her as +guardian of these dear children; and the manner in which you have spoken +of her convinces me that she would be eligible and valuable, if she were +but at liberty to come. Do you think you could persuade her to undertake +the duty?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> I would send a man to farm her land for her, and devote the +whole rent to her remuneration.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid she would not leave her present home and occupation. She +keeps a small store and lives entirely by herself, except that a little +girl, whose life she saved from the great flood, assists her. You would +have been very much pleased with her had you witnessed her brave conduct +in risking her own life in the attempt to save a Mr. Lacey and his +family, who on that day were carried away in their barn. She put to +shame the spirits of several men who stood looking on the waters, and +refused to go to the assistance of those poor creatures. She would +positively have gone alone, and entered the boat with the full +determination to do so, if they refused to accompany her. They were at +length fairly shamed into going along with her to the spot where the +barn had grounded, and thus actually rescued the whole family from their +perilous situation. I wonder you did not see the account of it in the +<i>Sydney Gazette</i>.”</p> + +<p>“You interest me very much in this person,” said Mr. Barry; “she must be +a very extraordinary woman.”</p> + +<p>“She is, indeed. But this is not the most extraordinary feat of her +life. She is a convict, and was transported to this country for stealing +a horse, and riding it a distance of seventy miles in one night.”</p> + +<p>“But how came you to know her?”</p> + +<p>“She was recommended to me by Captain Sumpter, who conveyed her in his +ship to this country, and gave her an excellent character. She was so +highly mentioned in his letters, that I took her into the establishment +at the Female Orphan Asylum, and found her all that I could desire, and +much more than I could have had any reason to expect.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know what her character was in England?”</p> + +<p>“Her whole history has been laid before me. And this I can +conscientiously declare, that she was guilty of but one great error, +which betrayed her into the commission of an offence for which she was +sent to this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span> country. Her besetting sin was misplaced affection, an +unaccountable attachment to an unworthy man. She stole a horse from her +master to meet this lover in London, and was sentenced to death for so +doing. She was reprieved, owing to her previous good character, and +would never have been sent to this country, had she not been persuaded +by the same man to break out of prison. She effected her escape from +gaol, and would have got clear out of the country, but for the activity +of a young man (by-the-by, a namesake of yours) in the coastguard, who +shot her lover in a skirmish on the sea-shore; and then she was retaken, +tried a second time, and a second time condemned to death; but her +sentence was commuted to transportation for life.”</p> + +<p>On looking on the countenance of Mr. Barry at this moment, Mrs. Palmer +was surprised to see it deadly pale.</p> + +<p>“You are ill, sir,” she exclaimed; “pray let me send for assistance.”</p> + +<p>“No, no, I thank you; I shall be better presently. A little faintness +came over me, doubtless from the interest I feel in the history you have +related to me.”</p> + +<p>With great effort Mr. Barry commanded himself, as he said in a trembling +voice, “And the name of this singular person is——”</p> + +<p>“Margaret Catchpole,” replied Mrs. Palmer, as he seemed to pause.</p> + +<p>Overpowered by emotion of the most conflicting kind, Mr. Barry was +completely unmanned. Accustomed for so long a time to smother his +affections, he now found his heart bursting with the fullness of agony +at finding the being so highly recommended to him, and one whom he had +never ceased to love—<i>a convict</i>.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my respected friend!" he exclaimed, “I loved that woman long before +I came to this country. I love her still—I confess I love her now; I +cannot, I do not, from all I know of her, and from all you tell me, +believe her to be an abandoned character;—but she is a convict.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Alas! she is,” replied Mrs. Palmer. “You astonish, you amaze me, Mr. +Barry. Does she know your situation in this country?”</p> + +<p>“I should think not, for I have had no information of hers up to this +time. You must know that I would have brought her out to this country as +my wife, but she was then attached to another. That other, I fear, was +shot by my brother. He was a smuggler, and my brother was in the +preventive service. She may not retain any feeling towards me but +respect.”</p> + +<p>“I have never heard her mention your name, nor had I the slightest hint +of these circumstances. I do not think she dreams of your existence. +This is a large country, Mr. Barry, and if your name and fame in it have +ever reached her ear, depend upon it she does not think that you are the +person who once addressed her. But if she should hear it, I can tell you +that she is so truly humble a creature, that she would think it +presumption even to fancy that you could still love her. She is the +meekest and most affectionate creature I ever knew.”</p> + +<p>“I can believe it, if she is anything like what I remember of her; she +is warm-hearted, honest, open, and sincere, but uneducated.”</p> + +<p>“She is all the first-mentioned, but far, very far from being the last. +In some things she is as well informed as ourselves, and in the best of +all books she is really well read. She daily reads and understands her +Bible. Her mistress, copies of whose letters I can show you, instructed +her with her own children; and I can assure you, that in nothing but the +want of station is she inferior to the best of her sex.”</p> + +<p>After the first struggles of his emotion were over, Mr. Barry made a +complete confidante of Mrs. Palmer, and at once revealed to her the +state of his own feelings respecting Margaret; and she fully explained +to him what had been the excellent conduct of the object of his +affection since her residence in that country. After hearing her +statement, and appearing to consider within himself for a brief space, +he said—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I think I have sufficient interest with the governor to obtain her free +pardon. If you can furnish me with the numbers of the <i>Sydney Gazette</i> +in which she is mentioned, I will urge upon that humane man the policy +of rewarding such an example as that which she set in rescuing the lives +of Mr. Lacey and his family from the flood. I will take your +recommendation, also, to the governor, and see what may be done. In the +meantime, I beg you to take the earliest opportunity of mentioning my +name to her in any manner you may think best. My mind is made up. If I +procure her pardon, and she will listen to me favourably, I will marry +her. You may tell her so, if you find her favourably disposed towards +me.”</p> + +<p>That very day the good Mrs. Palmer wrote the following note to Margaret +Catchpole:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align: right;">"<span class="smcap">Sydney</span>, Sept. 21, 1811.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">My good Margaret</span>,</p> + +<p>“I desire to see you at Sydney, and have sent a conveyance for you +that you may not be oppressed with the journey. I have something +particular to communicate, but shall not tell you by letter what it +is, that you may not be over-anxious. I shall simply call it a +matter of most momentous business, which concerns both you and me, +and also a third person. Your attendance here will greatly +facilitate the settlement of the affair. And in the meantime, +believe me,</p> + +<table class="signature30" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>"Your sincere friend,</td></tr> +<tr><td>"<span class="smcap">Eliza Palmer</span>.</td></tr> +</table> +<p>“To <span class="smcap">Margaret Catchpole</span>, Richmond Hill.”</p> +<br /> +</div> + +<p>It was indeed a great piece of news which this kind-hearted woman had to +communicate to her husband. Still he was not so surprised as she +expected him to have been.</p> + +<p>“I have always thought, from his manner, that Mr. Barry had some strong +and secret attachment in England. I fancied that he was in love with +some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> damsel of high birth in his native country; and truly do I think +him worthy of any lady’s hand. I little dreamed, however, of his real +position. He is a good man, and will make a most excellent member of our +highest society, and will exalt any woman he may take to be wife. But +how do you think Margaret is affected towards him?”</p> + +<p>“It is that very thing I wish to know. I cannot really tell. She has +been as great an exclusive in her way as he has been in his; and I +confess that my present opinion is, that she will never marry.”</p> + +<p>“She would really be to blame if she did not. I think this match would +tend to soothe that growing distance and disrespect which exists between +the emancipated and the free settlers. At all events, it is highly +honourable and noble in our excellent friend.”</p> + +<p>“I think she would be wrong to refuse such an offer. But she has shown +herself so independent, that unless a real affection should exist, I +feel persuaded that she will live at Richmond Hill in preference to +Windsor Lodge. I expect her here to-morrow, as I have sent the chaise +for her.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Barry repaired to the governor’s house and had a long interview with +him. He had some general business to speak of and several public matters +to arrange; but he made haste to come to the case of a female convict, +Margaret Catchpole, which he laid before the governor with such zeal, +that the latter could not help observing the deep interest he took in +her behalf.</p> + +<p>“Has your honour seen the nature of the offence for which she was +transported, or ever heard of the motive which prompted it? I have +brought testimony sufficient to corroborate my account of her. I have +the letters of recommendation for good conduct during her voyage to this +country. I have the highest character to give of her all the time she +has been with Mrs. Palmer, and a particular instance of personal courage +and self-devotion, in saving the lives of a whole family in the late +dreadful flood. Her present situation is so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span> highly respectable, and +exhibits such an instance of moral and religious influence triumphant +over the dangers of a degraded position, that, when I heard of it, I +could not fail to lay it before your honour.”</p> + +<p>“And a most admirable advocate would you have made at the bar, Mr. +Barry. You have pleaded this young woman’s case with such fervour, that +positively, but for your well-known character in the colony, I should +suspect you had some private interest in obtaining her pardon. I do +think, however, that the case is a very proper one for merciful +consideration, and highly deserving of the exercise of that prerogative +which the government at home has attached to my power; and I shall +certainly grant a free pardon. But, without any intention of being too +inquisitive, may I candidly tell you, that from the animated manner in +which you have spoken of the virtues of this said female, I am induced +to ask, why you have taken such a peculiarly personal interest in her +favour?”</p> + +<p>“I will honestly confess at once that I ask it upon the most +self-interested grounds possible: I intend to offer her my hand.”</p> + +<p>The governor looked all astonishment. “What? Do I really hear it, or is +it a dream? You, Mr. Barry, the highest, and wealthiest, and most +prudent bachelor in the settlement, one who might return to England and +be one of her wealthiest esquires; and here, enjoying more reputation, +with less responsibility, than the governor—you about to form a +matrimonial alliance with——”</p> + +<p>The governor paused; he found his own eloquence carrying him too far; he +considered the character of the man before him, knew the excellence of +his principles and his heart, and dreaded to wound his generous soul; he +changed his tone, but not the earnestness of his appeal.</p> + +<p>“Have you well weighed this matter, Mr. Barry? Have you consulted with +your friends around you? You are not the man to be caught by outward +appear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span>ances, nor to be smitten by passing beauty without some qualities +of domestic happiness, arising from temper, mind, character, and +disposition. How long has this attachment been in existence?”</p> + +<p>“From my youth, your honour: I have not yet seen her since that happy +time when she was a free woman in my native land, enjoying that honest +liberty which is the pride and glory of England’s virtuous daughters of +every station in the land. I was then in her own condition of life. We +had both to earn our bread by the labour of our hands; we both respected +each other: would I could say that we had both loved each other! I +should not like to see her again until I can look upon her as a free +woman, and it is in your power to make her that happy being, upon whom I +may look, as I once did, with the warmest affection.”</p> + +<p>“I ask no more, Mr. Barry, I ask no more. You have been an enigma to +many of us; it is now solved. It gives me real pleasure to oblige you, +and in such a case as this the best feelings of my heart are abounding +for your happiness. Her freedom is granted. To whom shall I commit the +pardon?”</p> + +<p>“Will you permit me to take it?”</p> + +<p>“Most gladly.”</p> + +<p>The governor’s secretary was immediately summoned, and the form of +pardon duly signed, sealed, and delivered to the joyful hand of Mr. John +Barry.</p> + +<p>“And now,” said the governor, “permit me to say that we shall at all +times be happy to receive you at Sydney; and in any way in which you can +find my countenance and support serviceable, I shall always be ready to +give them.”</p> + +<p>A cordial shake of the hand was mutually exchanged, and Mr. Barry +returned that day to Windsor Lodge one of the happiest, as far as hope +and good deeds can make a man so, on this changing earth.</p> + +<p>He had communicated his success to Mrs. Palmer before he left Sydney. +The green hills of Hawkesbury never looked so bright in his eye before, +his house never so pleasant.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span></p> + +<p>His servants saw an evident change in his manner, from the anguish of +mourning for the loss of a sister, to what they could not quite +comprehend; a state of liveliness they had never before witnessed in +him. Their master never appeared so interested about the house, the +rooms, the garden, and the green lawn. He was most unusually moved; he +gave orders for the preparation of his house to receive his +brother-in-law’s children, to the great amazement of his female +domestics, who could not conceive how a bachelor would manage such a +family.</p> + +<p>He did not breathe a word of his intention to any of his domestics; but +every one observed a great change in his behaviour, which all his +habitual quietude could not entirely conceal.</p> + +<p>He wandered down to his favourite spot upon the river, and indulged in a +reverie of imaginary bliss, which, to say the truth, was more real with +him than with many thousands who fancy themselves in love.</p> + +<p>Margaret arrived at Sydney on the day following the receipt of Mrs. +Palmer’s letter. She was a little excited at the tone of that epistle, +but much surprised at being received in a manner to which she had never +been accustomed. Margaret saw in a moment, from Mrs. Palmer’s manner, +that she had something to communicate of a very different kind to what +she had before mentioned, and at once said—</p> + +<p>“I perceive, my dear lady, that you have something to say to me which +concerns me more than you wish to let me see it does, and yet you cannot +conceal it. You need not be afraid to tell me; good or bad, I am +prepared for it, but suspense is the most painful.”</p> + +<p>“The news I have to tell you then is good; to be at once declared—it is +your free pardon!”</p> + +<p>“This is news indeed, my dearest lady; almost too good news—it comes so +unlooked for; forgive my tears.” Margaret wept for joy.</p> + +<p>“Shall I again see dear old England? shall I again see my dear friends, +my mistress, my uncle, aunt, and family? Oh! how shall I ever repay your +kindness?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span> Oh! what can I say to you for your goodness? On my knees, I +thank God, my good friend, and say, God be praised for His mercies, and +bless you, the instrument thereof!”</p> + +<p>“You may thank God; but you must not bless me, Margaret, for I am only +the bearer of the news. I have not even got the pardon in my possession; +but I have seen it. It is signed by the governor, and I know that you +are free.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! thanks, dear lady, thanks!—but is it not to Mr. Palmer that I am +indebted? You must have had something to do with it.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing farther than the giving you a just character to the governor by +the hand of a gentleman, who has interceded with him, and has pleaded +your cause successfully.”</p> + +<p>“Who is the gentleman? Do I know him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you may know him when you see him. He read the account of your +saving the family of the Laceys in the flood; he listened with attention +to your former history: he does not live in Sydney, but at Windsor, on +the Hawkesbury; yet, from his interest with the governor, he obtained +your pardon.”</p> + +<p>“Bless the dear gentleman! How shall I ever be grateful enough to him? +But you say I know him?”</p> + +<p>“I say I think you will. I know you did once know him, but you have not +seen him for many years.”</p> + +<p>“Who can it be, dear lady? You do not mean my brother Charles?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Who then can it be? Not my former master, or any of his family?”</p> + +<p>“No, Margaret; I must be plainer with you. Do you remember a young man +of the name of Barry?”</p> + +<p>“John Barry! Yes, I do. What of him? He went to Canada.”</p> + +<p>“No, he did not. He came to this country, has lived in it many years, +and has prospered greatly. He is in the confidence of the governor. He +accidentally discovered you were in the country. He it was—yes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span> he it +was—who went that very hour to the governor, and I have no doubt asked +it as a personal favour to himself that you should be pardoned. What say +you to such a man?”</p> + +<p>“All that I can say is to bless him with a most grateful heart. Oh! dear +lady, he saved my life once, and now he gives me liberty! He was a good +young man; too good for such as me to think upon, though he once would +have had me think more of him. I had forgotten all but his kindness, +which I never can forget; and now it overwhelms me with astonishment. Is +he married, and settled in this country?”</p> + +<p>“He is settled, but not married. He has been a prosperous man, and is as +benevolent as he is rich; but he never married, at which we have all +wondered.”</p> + +<p>This declaration made Margaret blush; a deep crimson flush passed over +her cheeks, and was succeeded by extreme paleness. Her heart heaved +convulsively, a faintness and dizziness came upon her, and she would +really have fallen had she not been supported by the kind attentions of +her benefactress.</p> + +<p>“He has kept his word! Oh, Mrs. Palmer! I never thought to see him +again. I mistook the country he left me for. I have often thought of his +goodness to me in former days. I am now indebted to him for double +life!”</p> + +<p>“Margaret, what if I tell you that for you only has he kept himself +single?”</p> + +<p>“There was a time when he might and did think of me; but that time must +be gone by.”</p> + +<p>“I tell you, he loves you still.”</p> + +<p>“Impossible! Oh, if he does!—but it is impossible! Madam, this is all a +dream!”</p> + +<p>“It is a dream, Margaret, from which you will shortly awake, as he is in +the house at this moment to present himself with the governor’s pardon!”</p> + +<p>“Dear lady, pray be present with me; I know not how to meet him!”</p> + +<p>The door just then opened, and in came Mr. Barry,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span> with the governor’s +pardon in his hand. He approached Margaret, as she clung to Mrs. Palmer, +agitated beyond measure. She regarded him with more solemn feelings than +she did the judge who condemned her twice to death. She dropped upon her +knees, and hid her face before her deliverer. He lifted her up and +seated her, and, in the language of gentleness and tenderness, addressed +her thus:—</p> + +<p>“Margaret, I have brought you a free pardon from the governor. Need I +remind you that God has mercifully sent me before you in this instance +to be your friend? To Him I know you will give all the thanks and +praises of a grateful heart.”</p> + +<p>“To Him I do first, sir; and to you, as his instrument, in the next +place. I am afraid to look upon you, and I am unworthy to be looked upon +by you. I am a——”</p> + +<p>“You need not tell me, Margaret, what you have been. I know all. Think +not of what you were, but what you are. You are no longer a convict; you +are no longer under the ban of disgrace; you are no longer under the +sentence of the offended laws of man; you are now a free subject; and if +your fellow-creatures do not all forgive you, they cannot themselves +hope for forgiveness. You are at liberty to settle wherever you please.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! dear sir; and to you I owe all this! What will they say to you in +England, when I again embrace my dear friends there, and bless you for +the liberty thus granted me?”</p> + +<p>“Margaret, hear me again. Remember, when I last saw you, I told you then +what I dreaded, if you refused to come out to this country with me. How +true those fears were, you can now judge. You made a choice then which +gave me anguish to be surpassed only by the present moment. You speak +now of returning to England. You have got your pardon, and are at +liberty so to do. It may seem ungenerous to me, at such a moment, to +urge your stay; but hear now my opinion and advice, and give them the +weight only of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> your calm judgement. If you return to England, take my +word for it you will not be happy. You will never be as happy as you may +be here. I speak this with feelings as much alive to your interest now +as they were when I last parted with you. I will suppose you returned. +Your own good heart makes you imagine that every one would be as glad to +see you there as you would truly be to see them. Your own heart deceives +you. I have known those who so bitterly lamented their return to +England, that they have come again to settle in this country, and have +offended those friends who would have respected them had they remained +here. When at a distance they felt much for them; but when they came +near to them, the pride of society made them ashamed of those who had +been convicts. It may be that some would be glad to see you; your good +mistress, your uncle and aunt: but circumstances might prevent their +being able to do you any great service. Your former mistress has a large +family, your uncle the same; you have no independence to live upon +there. The eye of envy would be upon you if you had wealth, and +detraction would be busy with your name. People would talk of your sins, +but would never value you for your integrity. You would probably soon +wish yourself in this country again, where your rising character would +be looked upon with respect, and all the past be forgiven, and in time +forgotten. Here you would have an established character: there you would +always be thought to have a dubious one. Besides all this, you are here +prospering. You can have the great gratification of relieving the +necessities of your aged relatives, and of obliging your best friends. +You would, believe me, be looked upon by them with far greater respect +and esteem than if you were nearer to them. Think, Margaret, of what I +now state, and divest yourself of that too great idea of happiness in +England. You are at liberty to go; but you will enjoy far greater +liberty if you stay in this country.”</p> + +<p>“What you say, sir, may be true in some respects;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span> but I think I should +die happy if I once more saw my dear friends and relatives.”</p> + +<p>“God forbid that I should not approve your feeling! I, too, have a +father, and mother, and brothers in England, but I hear from them +continually, and they rejoice in my welfare. I love them dearly as they +do me. Two sisters have come out to me, and both have married and +settled in the country. One I have lost, who has left a husband and +seven children to lament her loss. I have strong ties, you see, in these +young people, to bind me to this country, for they look up to me as they +do to their father. But they are without female protection.”</p> + +<p>“If, my dear sir, I can be of any service to you or them for a term of +years, I shall feel it part of the happiness of that freedom you have +obtained for me to abide as long in this land. But I own that I still +feel that I should like to return one day to England. I am very grateful +for all your goodness, and shall ever bless you for the interest you +have taken in one so unworthy your favour.”</p> + +<p>“Margaret, I am deeply interested in these children. They have lost +their mother, my sister. Their aunt, now resident in the colony, has ten +children of her own, and it would not be fair that she should take seven +more into her house. The young man, now left a widower, is in such a +delicate state of health, and so disconsolate for the loss of his wife, +that I do not think he will be long amongst us. These circumstances made +me come to my good friend Mrs. Palmer for assistance and advice. Guess, +then, my astonishment to hear you recommended to me: you, above all +people in the world, whose presence I could have wished for, whose +gentleness I know, and who, if you will, can make both myself and all +these children happy.”</p> + +<p>“My dear sir, I stand in a very different position with regard to +yourself to what I formerly did. I do not forget that to your protecting +arm I owe the rescue of my life from the violence of one in whom my +misplaced confidence became my ruin and his own death.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span> I never can +forget that to you I am a second time indebted for liberty, and that +which will sweeten the remainder of my days: the consciousness of being +restored, a pardoned penitent, to virtuous society. But I cannot forget +that I am still but little better than a slave: I am scarcely yet free. +I am not, as I was when you first offered me your hand and heart, upon +an equality with yourself. How then can you ask me to become your wife, +when there is such a disparity as must ever make me feel your slave? No, +generous and good man! I told you formerly that if Laud were dead I +might then find it in my heart to listen to your claims; but I never +thought that I should be in a situation so much beneath you as I am, so +very different to that which I once occupied.”</p> + +<p>“And do you think, Margaret, that I can ever forget that I was a +fellow-servant with you at the Priory Farm, upon the banks of the +Orwell? It was then I first made known to you the state of that heart +which, as I told you long ago, would never change towards you. You say +that our conditions are so very dissimilar: I see no great difference in +them; certainly no greater than when you lived at the cottage on the +heath and I was the miller’s son. You are independent now. Your good +friend, Mrs. Palmer, has made you so, and will permit me to say, that +you have already an independence in this country far greater than ever +you could enjoy in England.”</p> + +<p>Margaret looked at Mrs. Palmer. That good woman at once confessed that +all the rent that Margaret had paid for the years she had been in the +farm was now placed in the Sydney bank, to her account, and quite at her +disposal. She added, that she had made over the estate she occupied at +Richmond Hill to her for ever.</p> + +<p>What could Margaret now say? She found herself on the one hand made +free, through the intercession of a man who loved her, and on the other +she was made independent for life by a lady who had only known her in +her captivity, but who had respected and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span> esteemed her. That lady now +thought it time to speak out.</p> + +<p>“Margaret, do not think that I have given you anything more than what +you are strictly entitled to. Remember that, from a sense of justice +towards me, you refused the hand of a man who probably would have +settled all the estate upon you. But you chose to think yourself +unworthy of my kindness had you accepted his offer. You acted with great +discretion; and in settling this small portion upon you, I was guided by +a sense of justice and gratitude, which made me anxious to discharge a +just debt, and I do not consider that I have even given you as much as I +ought to have done.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, you have, dear lady, and you have bound me to you for ever. +Have I, indeed, such dear friends in this country? Then do I feel it my +duty to remain in it, and I will learn to sigh no longer after that +place where I had so long hoped to live and die. You give me, however, +more credit for refusing the hand of Mr. Poinder than I deserve: I never +could have married a man who, in such an imperious manner, gave me to +understand his will. No; I was his servant, but not his slave. And any +woman who would obey the nod of a tyrant, to become his wife, could +never expect to enjoy any self-estimation afterwards. He told me his +intention of making me his wife in such an absolute way that I quite as +absolutely rejected him. I deserve no credit for this.”</p> + +<p>“Margaret,” said Mr. Barry, “understand the offer I now make you. If you +are not totally indifferent to all mankind, and can accept the offer of +one whose earliest affections you commanded, then know that those +affections are as honest, and true, and faithful to you this day, as +they were when I first addressed you. Think me not so ungenerous as ever +to appeal to any sense of gratitude on your part. You cannot conceive +what unspeakable pleasure I have always thought it to serve you in any +way I might. You cannot tell how dead I have been to every hope but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span> +that of being enabled to do good to others. This has been my purest +solace under your loss, Margaret; and if in daily remembrance of you I +have done thus much, what will not your presence always urge me to +perform?</p> + +<p>“I sought a servant, a confidential kind of friend, to govern my +brother’s household: I little thought that I should find the only person +I ever could or would make my wife. I offer you, then, myself and all my +possessions. I am willing to make over all I have, upon the contract +that you become the aunt of those dear children, and I know you too well +ever to doubt your kindness to them.</p> + +<p>“As to your respectability, I have already declared to the governor my +full intention of offering you this hand. He has promised to recognize +you as my wife. Your friend here will not like you the less because you +are so nearly allied to me; and I will answer for all my relatives and +friends. None will ever scorn you, all will respect you, I will love +you. Say, then, will you live my respected wife at Windsor Lodge, or +will you still live alone at Richmond Hill?”</p> + +<p>“It is you must choose,” replied Margaret; “I cannot refuse. I never can +doubt you. I will endeavour to fulfil the station of a mother in that of +an aunt; and if my heart does not deceive me, I shall do my duty as an +honest wife.”</p> + +<p>After this explanation, it is needless, perhaps, to add that Margaret +Catchpole changed her name, and became the much-respected and beloved +wife of John Barry, Esq., of Windsor, by the Green Hills of Hawkesbury.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI</a><br /><span style="font-size:70%">CONCLUSION</span></h2> + +<p>If true love and constancy are noble qualities in the heart of man, and +prompt him to deeds of generous philanthropy, they deserve to be +recorded and imitated from the example of John Barry. And if sincerity +and repentance be qualities worthy the charitable consideration of good +Christians, Margaret Catchpole’s career in this life, and especially her +latter days, will not afford a bad example of the promise of “the life +that now is, and of that which is to come.” The remaining history of +this singular individual was one of quiet calm, and yet benevolent +exertion in all good works of faith and love. She lived highly respected +in the situation to which her husband’s good qualities and good fortune +had raised her. She lived a retired, though not a secluded life, on the +banks of the Hawkesbury, fulfilling the duties of her station as a good +wife, aunt, sister, and mother, in an exemplary manner. Charitable as +she was rich, she never thought she could do enough to relieve the +distresses of others.</p> + +<p>Not many months after her marriage she received another chest of goods +from her benevolent mistress in England, and wrote her last epistle of +thanks, dated</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align: right;">"<span class="smcap">Windsor, Hawkesbury</span>, June 25th, 1812.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Madam</span>,</p> + +<p>“The contents of this letter will surprise you. I hope that I am +not the less grateful for your goodness because God has blessed me +with such abundance, that I no longer require that aid from England +which has hitherto been such a blessing to me. Indeed, my dearest +madam, my good and early friend, I am most grateful for all your +past favours, though I do not wish to tax a generosity which I do +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span> +not now, in the same manner, need. May Heaven bless your warm +heart, which will glow with fervent praise to God when you read +this letter from your former poor servant!</p> + +<p>“Everything that I could wish for, and, oh! how much more than I +deserve, have I had granted to me in this place of probation! God +grant I may not set my heart too much upon their value! Dearest +lady, I have men-servants and maid-servants, horses and cattle, +flocks and herds in abundance. I have clothing and furniture above +what you can imagine, and a house wide enough to entertain in it +all your numerous family. But, more than all this, I have an +excellent husband, one whose constancy from his youth has been +beyond the praise which I could find language to express.</p> + +<p>“You may remember what I once told you of a young man whom I had +rejected for a less worthy one. He has proved his love for me in +such a manner as I am sure could never have been seen in any but +the most noble of his nature. He told me in England that he would +never marry any other, and through years of industry and prosperity +(and as I have every reason to believe he would have done to the +last day of this life) has kept himself single on my account. Did +you ever chance to hear of such a case as this? When I reflect upon +it, as I often do, I find it more and more wonderful.</p> + +<p>“You must remember my telling you of Mr. John Barry’s attachment to +me. He left me when I lived at Nacton, and came out here among the +earliest free settlers in the country, and has prospered beyond his +utmost anticipations. He found me out here by accidental inquiries +of my dear Mrs. Palmer, and obtained for me my free pardon. My +wishes to return again to my native land became absorbed in the +sense of duty and obligation to my benefactor, who, when he had +obtained that pardon, gave me the option of sharing my life and +freedom with him, or of being independent here or elsewhere. Noble +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span>generosity! Does it not win your heart? It won mine. I am his +faithful wife: happy, happy, as the days are long. He is good, +virtuous, amiable, and truly religious; constant in his love to God +and man. I could fill many letters in speaking of his virtues; but +I forget that you never saw him, though he lived upon the shores of +the same river that you do.</p> + +<p>“He is very good to me, so that I want nothing more from England. +How proud shall I be to send you now anything which this country +produces!</p> + +<p>“Herewith I send you a sketch of my present beautiful abode, done +by Mrs. Palmer. It will give you a slight idea of my situation. I +send you also a present of various seeds, skins of animals (one of +the ursine opossum), and dried plants, which I think will be +valuable to you; and also some curious weapons and instruments of +the natives, for my dear friend, Dr. Stebbing.</p> + +<p>“What a wonderful life has mine been! You only, my dear lady, know +its reality. There may be others equally eventful; but how few are +there who find such a place of unmerited repose as I have? My dear +sister’s words often recur to my mind when she told me whom I +should not marry: I wonder if she ever thought of the one I have +married. There are many very excellent people in this flourishing +country. The governor and his family have received us, and have +been very kind to me. My dear friend, Mrs. Palmer, is now staying +in my house. She is my benefactress here, as you were in England. +Oh! if I could but bring you both together, and could sit quietly +listening to your conversation, it would be such an intellectual +treat as few could more enjoy! She is, like yourself, very clever. +I believe I should die happier if I could see your dear, loved face +in this land; but if that never may be, nor I see old England +again, then may Heaven bless you; and God bestow His brightest +gifts of grace upon you and your children!</p> + +<p>“I am this moment engaged, and lay down my pen to give directions +concerning the work in that most interesting of all female +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span>employments, preparing for the coming of a family of my own. Mrs. +Palmer, who sees me writing these words, says, ‘How astonished you +will be!’ You will rejoice in my happiness. I know you will. +Forgive, dear lady, all my errors, both of the weakness of my head +and heart. Give my love to all my dear friends. Any person coming +to this country, with a recommendation from you to me, will find +the warmest reception. In justice to my husband, I would forget +what I have been, and I speak seldom of my past errors, though, +before God, I never cease to lament and repent of them; and did I +not know who ‘died for the ungodly,’ my grief for the past would be +without consolation. Blessed faith, that teaches the contrite how +to be comforted! Who can value Thee as he ought in this struggling +state!</p> + +<p>“I can add but a few more words, and I do so with tears and +trembling. It is not from pride of heart. Dear lady, you must judge +of its propriety. I am likely to increase my family; and I would +conceal from them, in future years, their mother’s early history, +at least those parts which are so unworthy to be mentioned. But I +feel that my maiden name cannot be forgotten in your neighbourhood. +Hundreds will speak of it when you and I shall be no more. Oh that +it could be represented to the world in its proper light, as a +warning to that portion of my countrywomen to which I belonged, +that they never give way to their headstrong passions, lest they +fall as I did! But ‘the tender mercies of God are over all His +works,’ and I can never magnify that mercy too much, as it has been +shown to me.</p> + +<p>“If, dear lady, as years increase, our correspondence should not be +so frequent, because of my altered situation in this country, do +not think me proud. Your feelings as a mother will point to the +nature of my own. You would not have your children know your +faults. Pardon this, perhaps, my greatest weakness.</p> + +<p>“Should you ever think fit, as you once hinted in your letter to +me, to write my history, or should leave it to others to publish, +you have my free permission<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span> at my decease, whenever that shall +take place, so to do. But let my husband’s name be concealed. +Change it, change it to any other; not for his sake, for it is +worthy to be written in golden characters, but for mine and my +children’s sake! And now, dear lady, farewell. God’s peace be with +you! and ever think of me as</p> + +<table class="signature50" summary="sig"> +<tr><td class="tdc">"Your grateful and affectionate servant,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><span class="smcap">Margaret Barry</span>."</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p>So ends the correspondence of Margaret with her mistress. That lady +wrote one more letter to her, assuring her of her joy and thankfulness +at her providential settlement in the land of her adoption. She told her +that she had kept the early facts of her history in such order, that on +some future day they might perhaps be published, but that her wishes +should be strictly attended to, and her parental anxieties respected. +She took an affectionate leave of her in that last letter, promising not +to intrude anything of past obligation upon her notice, but leaving it +entirely to her own heart to recognize any friends of hers, from the +county of Suffolk, who might, either in military, naval, or civil +capacity, go out to Sydney. How delicately those wishes were observed, +some can well remember.</p> + +<p>Margaret Barry lived many years at Windsor, greatly respected and +beloved. She had one son and two daughters, who received the best +education which England could afford, and returned to settle in their +native land. Among the foremost for intelligence, benevolence, activity, +and philanthropy, is the distinguished son of Margaret; and in the +future history of Australia he will bear no unimportant share in her +celebrity and greatness. The daughters are amiable and accomplished, and +have married gentlemen of the first respectability in the country.</p> + +<p>After fifteen years of the tenderest and most uninterrupted domestic +comfort, Margaret had the severe affliction to undergo of losing her +devoted and excellent husband, who died September 9th, 1827, leaving the +bulk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> of his property at her disposal. She removed to Sydney in 1828, +where she was conspicuous only for the mildness of her manners, and the +unostentatious character of her habits of life.</p> + +<p>She had a great desire that her son should settle in her native county +of Suffolk, and he came over to this country with that view; and when +the sale of Kentwell Hall took place, he was nearly the last bidder for +it. His resolution, however, seemed to fail him at the last moment, and +he did not become the purchaser of the estate. He stayed a year in +England, and then returned, with a determination not to settle in any +other country than his native one. He returned to close the eyes of his +affectionate parent, who died September 10th, 1841, in the sixty-eighth +year of her age.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="SUPPLEMENT" id="SUPPLEMENT">SUPPLEMENT<br /><br /><span style="font-size:70%">BY THE AUTHOR</span><br /><span style="font-size:70%"><span class="fakesc">A. D.</span> 1858</span></a></h2> + +<p>Since the first publication of the <i>Life of Margaret Catchpole</i>, many +have been the correspondents who have addressed the author upon the +subject of her life and character. Many have been the inquiries made +concerning her, and many things, which the author never heard of her, +have since come to light. They would fill a volume. The author has no +intention of inflicting any further pain upon the sensitive minds of +some, who, in writing to him, have quite overlooked the idea that he, +the author, had any sensitiveness whatsoever. He has no intention of +reviving any feeling of the past, respecting what may or may not be mere +local descriptive scenic representation; but there are certain moral +representations which the author gave, both of her early respectability +and character, which he deems it but a mere act of common justice to her +memory to substantiate, and thus furnish the only defence which can ever +be in his power to make against those who accused him of wilful +misrepresentation. Though all the documents relating to this +extraordinary female are duly filed and preserved,—and her own letters +in her own handwriting have been transmitted for inspection to several +inquirers,—there are some facts which may be interesting as proof +positive of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span> assertions contained in the narrative. To a few of such +the author now refers the reader.</p> + +<p>The first is a letter from the Reverend William Tilney Spurdens, +formerly head-master of the Grammar School at North Walsham, Norfolk; a +celebrated scholar, the translator of Longinus, the early and beloved +tutor and friend of the author. This gentleman had an uncle at +Brandiston in Suffolk, with whom he used to stay, and to that uncle and +to Peggy’s aunt he refers in this letter.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p style="text-align:right;"><span class="smcap">North Walsham</span>, 30th Oct. 1846.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Friend</span>,</p> + +<p>“I cannot delay to put you in possession of my ‘<i>love-passages</i>' +with your heroine, albeit, at this present writing, suffering much +pain from asthma and chronic bronchitis, which are both aggravated +by our foggy air for some days past.</p> + +<p>“In my early childhood I had an uncle, an aged widower with no +family, who did me the favour of being very fond of me. He had one +domestic in his house, and another out of it, the former a female, +the latter a male. The former rejoiced in the name of Nanny, I +suppose there was another postfixed to it, but of this I am not +cognizant: but Nanny had a niece, or cousin, or something of the +kind, named <i>Peggy Catchpole</i>; and whenever the old uncle’s +favourite paid him a visit, the maid’s paid a visit to her, +'<i>for</i>,’ as Nanny used to say, ‘<i>it was so comfortable for the</i> +<i>children, like; and the little dears helped to amuse one another</i>;' +and so it was that Peg and I walked together, played together, and +slept together.</p> + +<p>“I wish I could give you dates, which are the sinews of history, +you know. There is one event which my mind connects very exactly +with this period, and which will afford you one date. Peggy and her +young swain were going on philandering at supper, at the time of +the loss of the <i>Royal George</i>, at Spithead. The newspaper came in +while my good relative was playing a hit at backgammon with his +neighbour, the doctor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> as was their frequent practice; and by dint +of spelling, and a lift or two over hard words, I read to them the +mournful narrative. For this I received sixpence, and laid it out +in figs, of which Peg and her swain each ate so many as to make +themselves ill.</p> + +<p>“Now all this would unquestionably have been forgotten, had it +been made fresh in the memory from Peggy’s subsequent career. +Whilst she was in Ipswich Gaol I made interest with the personage, +then usually called ‘<i>Old Rip</i>,’ to see her, intending to give her +money. I must then have been a young man. She, however, would not +know anything of me—in fact, ‘<i>cut me</i>:’ and so I kept my money. +But I afterwards learned that Ripshaw would not have permitted it +to be given! ‘<i>And that’s all.</i>'</p> + +<p>“I am afraid that, with all the exuberance of your imagination, +would be puzzled to concoct a chapter out of this.</p> + +<p>“I am beginning to long for our young friend’s visit <a name="CORR_6" id="CORR_6"><ins class="correction" title="original: in order to my introduction"> +in order to [ ] my introduction</ins></a> to your other heroine.</p> + +<table class="signature50" summary="sig"> +<tr><td class="tdl">"Meanwhile I am,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl pad4">"My dear Sir,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl pad6">"Yours very truly,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl pad8">"<span class="smcap">W. T. Spurdens</span>."</td></tr> +</table> + +</div> + +<p>There is no need to concoct a chapter out of this letter. It is the +genuine offering of a kind heart and clear head, and sufficiently +explains the purpose in view; viz. that Margaret was regarded in her +early career with respect and pure affection, by one who sought to +relieve her in her distress, and in a day of degradation and adversity +owned her as his early playmate, and would have ministered to her +necessity. Both, I trust, are now awaiting that final day when the cup +of cold water, given with a good heart for Christ’s sake, shall meet +with a blessed reward.</p> + +<p>The second letter is from a gentleman in Lincolnshire, a solicitor and +banker, and speaks to the career of that brother Edward who is mentioned +in the narrative.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Alford, Lincolnshire</span>, 10th Dec. 1846.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,</p> + +<p>“I have lately read the <i>Life of Margaret Catchpole</i>, and was +deeply interested in it. Her brother <i>Edward</i> was several years in +the preventive service in this neighbourhood, at +Sutton-in-the-Marsh, about six miles hence, where he died and was +buried a few years ago.</p> + +<p>“I often saw him in his rounds on the sea-coast, and have had +conversations with him. He was rather a tall person, and of stern +manners. I could readily obtain a copy of the inscription on his +grave-stone, which refers to his former residence at Ipswich, and +forward it to you, should you wish it. His widow, who was a Norwich +person, still lives in this neighbourhood.</p> + +<table class="signature60" summary="sig"> +<tr><td>"I remain, Sir,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl pad4">"Your very obedient servant,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl pad6">"<span class="smcap">Henry T. Bourne</span>.</td></tr> +</table> + +<table class="address" summary="address"> +<tr><td>"<span class="smcap">Rev. Rich. Cobbold</span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad2">"Wortham Rectory,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad4">"Diss, Norfolk.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>“P.S. Since writing the above I have heard that Mr. Edward +Catchpole became a decidedly religious character for the last few +years of his life, and died a very happy death.”</p> +</div> + +<p>From the same gentleman is the memoir here inserted of Margaret’s +brother Edward, obtained from an authenticated source, the substance of +which is given in a note, page 294.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Edward Catchpole was born near Ipswich in Suffolk, in the year +1778. Of his early days we know but little; he was led to choose a +sea-faring life in preference to any other line of business; he served +an apprenticeship on board a merchant ship. Some time afterwards he +became mate on board the <i>Argus</i> Revenue Cutter, of Harwich. Whilst in +this service, a most interesting circumstance occurred, which de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span>serves +to be noticed. Sept. 18th, 1807, the <i>Argus</i> succeeded in rescuing an +English coal-brig from the <i>Star</i>, French privateer. Having put some men +on board the brig, elated with success, they go in pursuit of the +privateer. They soon fall in with her, and a sharp engagement ensues, +and at 10 o’clock at night the captor was captured; they came to close +quarters, and, owing to the great disparity in numbers, the privateer +having eighty-six men, and the cutter only twenty-seven, they were +boarded, overpowered, taken into a French port, and sent to prison. Mr. +C. was about seven years in a French prison. Frequently his expectations +were raised by hopes of liberation, an exchange of prisoners was often +talked of, but still they were kept in bondage and suspense. A +favourable opportunity occurring, he made his escape, <a name="CORR_7" id="CORR_7"><ins class="correction" title="and came over to +England,">and came over to England.</ins></a> His arrival at home was so sudden and unexpected to his wife, +that he seemed to her almost like one come from the dead. Subsequently +he was appointed chief officer in the Coastguards; his last station was +at Sutton-in-the-Marsh, in the county of Lincoln; there his health +failed, and there he finished his earthly course, and made a good end. +His conversion to God was most satisfactory. In his affliction the Lord +graciously supported him, he had a hope full of immortality, and his end +was peace. He died on the 17th of December, 1836. He changed mortality +for life. He was interred in the churchyard at Sutton, and a stone has +been placed at the head of his grave, with the following inscription:</p> + +<p class="center">IN MEMORY OF<br /> +EDWARD CATCHPOLE,<br /> +A NATIVE OF IPSWICH,<br /> +IN THE COUNTY OF SUFFOLK,<br /> +AND LATE CHIEF OFFICER OF THE<br /> +COAST GUARD<br /> +STATIONED AT THIS PLACE,<br /> +WHO DIED DECEMBER THE 17TH, 1836,<br /> +AGED 58 YEARS.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span></p> + +<p>As some correspondents have actually accused the author of producing +before the public a fictitious character, and in terms of unmeasured +reprobation told him plainly that they understood there never was such a +person as Margaret Catchpole in existence, the author here gives a copy +of the document signed by her judge, the Lord Chief Baron Macdonald. +This document was not obtained until after the publication of the work. +The original is preserved in the Corporation Chest at Ipswich.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<br /> +<p>Copy of a Certificate from the Right Honourable Lord Chief Baron +Macdonald, to exempt from all parish offices, for having prosecuted +Margaret Catchpole at Bury Assizes, Aug. 11th, 1797.</p> + +<p>“These are to certify, That at the delivery of the Gaol of our Lord +the King, of the County of Suffolk, holden at Bury St. Edmunds, in +the County aforesaid, on Wednesday, the ninth day of August +instant, before me, whose name is hereunto subscribed, and other +his Majesty’s Justices, assigned to deliver the aforesaid Gaol of +the Prisoners, therein being Margaret Catchpole, late of the Parish +of St. Margaret, in the Town of Ipswich, in the County aforesaid, +single woman, convicted of feloniously stealing a Gelding, of the +price of twenty pounds, of the goods and chattels of John Cobbold, +on the twenty-third day of May last, at the Parish aforesaid, in +the Town and County aforesaid; and that the said John Cobbold was +the person who did apprehend and take the said Margaret Catchpole, +and did prosecute her, so apprehended and taken, until she was +convicted of the Felony. Therefore, in pursuance of an Act of +Parliament made in the tenth and eleventh years of the reign of his +late Majesty king William the Third, <i>intituled</i>, An Act for the +better apprehending, prosecuting, and punishing of felons that +commit burglary, housebreaking, or robbery, in shops, warehouses, +coachhouses, or stables, or that steal horses; I do hereby further +certify, that by virtue hereof and of the said Act of Parliament, +he, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span>the said John Cobbold, shall and may be, and is hereby, +discharged of and from all manner of Parish Offices within the +Parish of St. Margaret, in the Town of Ipswich aforesaid, in the +County aforesaid.</p> + +<p>“In testimony whereof I have hereunto set my hand this eleventh day +of August, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and +ninety-seven.</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Ar. Macdonald.</span>”</p> +</div> + +<p>The author now approaches a most painful, and yet he trusts a +pleasurable, duty. Painful, because his own mind and that of others have +been excessively hurt by a misconception of the identity of that +Margaret Catchpole whose life he has written, and pleasurable, because +of the opportunity afforded him of contradicting the fact so often +asserted, that Mrs. Reibey of New Town, Sydney, was the identical +Margaret Catchpole.</p> + +<p>The relatives and friends of that highly-esteemed lady, lately deceased, +will be glad to read a letter from the late Bishop of Australia, written +to one of his clergy, the Rev. H. D. D. Sparling, of Appin, New South +Wales, the good Bishop himself, as well as hundreds of others, having +been deceived in that identity from a strange but very simple mistake, +viz. that of two places bearing the same name in England, though one be +in Suffolk,—Bury, and the other in Lancashire—<i>Bury</i>.</p> + +<p>Hence originated the grand mistake concerning <i>Mrs. Reibey</i> who +emigrated from <i>Bury</i> in Lancashire, and Margaret Catchpole, who was +tried at Bury in Suffolk. It appears from original letters in the +possession of the author, and from Mrs. Reibey’s herself, that Suffolk +was totally unknown to her. She was very justly hurt at presents being +sent to her, under the idea that she was that poor girl, whose +correspondence and gratitude to her benefactress, the late Mrs. Cobbold +of Holywells, showed her to be honest and exemplary. She was justly +hurt, because therein was the supposition that she had been tried and +convicted as a felon, and was transported for horse-stealing.</p> + +<p>The friends and relatives of Mrs. Reibey, as well as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span> all Christians, +will be glad to read the <a name="CORR_8" id="CORR_8"><ins class="correction" title="original: amiable Bishops’ letter;">amiable Bishop’s letter;</ins></a> and even the author, +whom it condemns, gives it to the public, because his own heart is in +full accordance with the charity therein breathed; and he is even more +anxious to turn the hearts of that lady’s relatives in gratitude to that +spirit and testimony which this good man gives of all the branches of +their respectable family.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the remonstrance conveyed in the Bishop’s letter, +concerning the publication of the Life of the real Margaret Catchpole, +over which the author had <i>then</i> no more control than he now has, he +cannot help here expressing his gratitude to all those who, viewing the +narrative in the light of truth, and intention on the author’s part to +convey a moral and spiritual warning and lesson in an easy and +instructive style, have written to him letters of approbation.</p> + +<p>The Bishop’s letter, whilst it will animate the hearts of Mrs. Reibey’s +real relatives, will also speak equally kindly to the descendants of the +real Margaret Catchpole, and will be the author’s best proof of his +desire to convey the Bishop’s love to them along with his own. The +wildest olive, when grafted into the true stem, must be productive of +good fruit.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Reibey, a high-spirited, romantic girl, from the neighbourhood of +Bury in Lancashire, of good family, with friends and relatives of +England’s noblest merchants, conceived the idea that she should be +happier in our distant colony than in the Mother Country. She left +England very young, and, like many of her sex, succeeded in proving that +her enterprising spirit was not unrewarded. She lived respected by her +family and friends in England, and although mistaken by the good Bishop +himself, yet noble testimony is borne to the excellence of her +character. She was a clever woman of business, and of a noble +disposition. The author can only hope, that all her relatives and +friends who have written to him will thus accept at his hands the +apology for all the mistakes that have arisen; whilst, at the same time, +he rejoices to keep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span> concealed the name of Margaret’s real descendants +until they shall themselves divulge it.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Sydney</span>, 18th April, 1845.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Reverend Sir</span>,</p> + +<p>“I was very much vexed to learn from your letter of the 15th inst. +the course which it is intended to be taken with reference to the +publication named in the Prospectus which you forwarded, and which +is now returned. My opinion entirely coincides with yours and Mr. +Hossall’s as to the inexpediency of such an undertaking. It would +be cruel even to the individual, whoever it may be, to have early +offences thus placed permanently on record as a memorial of shame +and cause of annoyance to her younger and perfectly innocent +connexions. Indeed, if the party meant be the one whom allusions in +your letter lead me to conjecture, they who would suffer in their +feelings are not only innocent, but praiseworthy in a very high +degree for exertions in the cause of religion, and of the Church of +England, scarcely to be paralleled by any instance I have ever +known. The Bishop of Tasmania would regret equally with myself, +perhaps even more, that any pain should be occasioned to parties so +worthy of respect. If my conjecture be right, I happened once to be +in circumstances which placed other members of the same family +(young females just attaining to womanhood) under my close and +special attention, and I can truly testify the impression by me +was, that they were in character and deportment altogether +unexceptionable, and in habits of devotion very exemplary. Others I +know, are regarded by the clergyman of their parish as among the +best instructed and sober-minded of the communicants in his church.</p> + +<p>“My acquaintance with Mr. Cobbold is not such as I think would +justify my taking any step which would so carry the air of +remonstrance as that of my writing to him would.</p> + +<p>“It appears to me that as you have, through various circumstances, +been brought into correspondence with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span>him, it would be more proper +that you should make a statement of the true facts, and of the view +which is taken of his proposal. At the same time, if you think it +would strengthen your case if he were acquainted with my +sentiments, I can have no objection to your communicating them; as +all my statements to you upon the subject have been in accordance +with them, and expressive of my satisfaction at witnessing the +exemplary conduct of the individuals whom I suppose to be alluded +to.</p> + +<table class="signature60" summary="sig"> +<tr><td class="tdl">"I remain,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl pad2">"Reverend Sir,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl pad4">"Your very faithful servant,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl pad10">"<span class="smcap">W. G. Australia.</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<table class="tleft" summary="address"> +<tr><td>"<span class="smcap">Rev. H. D. D. Sparling</span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="pad2">"Parsonage, Appin."</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p>Mrs. Reibey is no more, and the author acknowledges the receipt of very +satisfactory letters from her and her relatives, all conveying their +free pardon for any unintentional pain, which might have been given to +an innocent and praiseworthy individual, but assuredly they did not +endure, and never could endure, the pangs which the author himself +received at the very thought of giving pain to others.</p> + +<p>He ever did admire the conduct of his mother towards her erring servant, +believing it to be as magnanimous and Christian-like as that of the +Bishop towards her supposed relatives, and though circumstances +compelled the prosecution in question, and the very prevalence of the +crime at the time made it too notorious to be disregarded,—the years of +intercourse, and passing presents to and fro, between the prosecutor and +the prisoner, made too deep an impression upon the young heart of the +author to be obliterated even in these his old days.</p> + +<p>He cannot help thinking that the removal of the <i>card</i> which was placed +at the foot of the “Manura Superba,” the first Lyra Pheasants sent from +that country to England, as a present from Margaret<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span> Catchpole to her +mistress, and presented by Mrs. Cobbold’s eldest son to the Ipswich +Museum, simply because it stated the fact of her transportation, was, +however kind in intention, a mistake in point of judgement. The object +of all records of crime ought to be taken as warnings to others; though +the simple fact of such birds being sent as a grateful present from a +once poor transport, proves that the heart was not totally devoid of +grace, and that we should ourselves be more glad to see such a noble +token of love, in the days of poverty, than the most splendid monuments +of accumulated wealth.</p> + +<p>One duty only remains for the author, and that is the last and very +simple one of gratitude to the memory of those who loved his mother, as +well as to those living who were subscribers to the monument placed in +the Tower Church, Ipswich, to her memory. That duty is simply to record +the inscription engraved upon it; and the author does so, because, as +years increase, so much the brighter in his mind is the memory of the +talents and virtues of the departed.</p> + + +<p class="center">AS A PUBLIC TESTIMONY OF RESPECT<br /> +FOR EXALTED TALENTS AND UNWEARIED EXERTION<br /> +IN THE CAUSE OF BENEVOLENCE AND CHARITY<br /> +THIS MONUMENT IS ERECTED BY THE GENERAL<br /> +CONCURRENCE OF AN EXTENSIVE CIRCLE OF FRIENDS<br /> +TO THE MEMORY OF<br /> +<br /> +<span style="font-size: 120%">ELIZABETH COBBOLD</span><br /> +<br /> +THE BELOVED WIFE OF JOHN COBBOLD, ESQ.<br /> +OF HOLYWELLS<br /> +SHE DIED OCTOBER XVII, MDCCCXIV<br /> +AGED LIX<br /> +</p> + +<p>Rectory, Wortham, Oct. 21st, 1858.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Poems by Mrs. Elizabeth Cobbold, with a Memoir of the +Author.</i> Ipswich: Printed and sold by J. Raw in the Butter Market, +1825.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The three most talked of books by Elizabeth Cobbold +were:—<i>The Mince Pye</i>, an Heroic Epistle, humbly addressed to the +Sovereign Dainty of a British Feast, by Caroline Petty Pasty, 1800. +<i>Cliff Valentines</i>, 1813. <i>An Ode to the Victory of Waterloo</i>, 1815. The +suggestion is made in the <i>Dictionary of National Biography</i> that she +was descended on the mother’s side from Edmund Waller the poet, but this +is exceedingly improbable.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Dr. Spencer Cobbold, of Batheston, Somerset, a grandson of +Richard Cobbold, and the son of T. Spencer Cobbold, M.D. (1828-1886), +the distinguished helminthologist, who was the youngest F.R.S. of his +day. He had made some original investigations concerning Entozoa, and +was the author of many books on “Parasites" and kindred subjects.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> At the Tower Church. He lived at St. Margaret’s Green.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <i>Public Men of Ipswich and East Suffolk</i>, by Richard +Gowing. Ipswich: W. J. Scopes, 1875.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> The following books by Richard Cobbold are in the British +Museum Library:— +</p> +<br /> +<table summary="sig"> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>Valentine Verses, or Lines of Truth, Love, and Virtue</i></td><td>1827</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>A Sermon on Matthew xiv</i></td><td>1829</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>The Spirit of the Litany of the Church of England.</i> A Poem</td><td>1833</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>The History of Margaret Catchpole, a Suffolk Girl.</i> 2 vols.</td><td>1845</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>Mary Anne Wellington. A Soldier’s Daughter, Wife and Widow.</i> 3 vols.</td><td>1846</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>Zenon the Martyr.</i> 3 vols.</td><td>1847</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>The Young Man’s Home, or The Penitent’s Return</i></td><td>1848</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>The Character of Woman.</i> A Lecture</td><td>1848</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>A Voice from the Mount</i></td><td>1848</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>A Sermon on Genesis i. 3</i></td><td>1849</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>Conversations between J. Rye and Mr. Parr</i></td><td>1848</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>The Comforter, or Short Addresses from the Book of Job</i></td><td>1850</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>A Father’s Legacy.</i> The Proverbs of Solomon in Prose and Verse</td><td>1850</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>Freston Tower, or The Early Days of Cardinal Wolsey.</i> 3 vols.</td><td>1850</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>Courtland</i>: a Novel. By the Daughter of Mary Anne Wellington. 3 vols.</td><td> 1852</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>The Union Child’s Belief</i></td><td>1855</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>J. H. Steggall. A Real History of a Suffolk Man</i></td><td>1857</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><i>Canticles of Life</i></td><td>1858</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> The Secretary of the Borough of Ipswich Museum and Free +Library.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> The punishment of death for horse-stealing was abolished in +1832, but in 1833 a little boy of nine who pushed a stick through a +cracked window and pulled out some painters’ colours worth twopence was +sentenced to death. Since 1838 no person has been hanged in England for +any offence other than murder. See Spencer Walpole’s <i>History of England +from the Conclusion of the Great War in 1815</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> The writer of these pages, one of the sons of that +excellent woman, was born on the 9th of September following.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> All traces of Edward Catchpole having been lost, the +author is obliged to Henry T. Bourne, Esq., of Alford, in Lincolnshire, +for making known to him, since the publication of the work, the +circumstances which are here briefly narrated. +</p> +<p> +Edward Catchpole went into Lincolnshire, and resided some time at +Sutton-in-the-Marsh. He was always fond of the sea, and for some years +became mate of the <i>Argus</i> revenue cutter. In this vessel, he was +present at the rescue of an English coal brig, from the <i>Star</i>, French +privateer; and having put men on board the brig, sufficient to carry her +into port, he pursued the privateer, brought her to close quarters, and +having only twenty-seven men on board the cutter, he was overpowered, +and at ten o’clock at night compelled to surrender, as the privateer had +eighty-six men against him. +</p> +<p> +This was on the 18th September, 1807. He was made prisoner, and having +spent seven years in confinement, he made his escape, and reached home +in safety. +</p> +<p> +He was afterwards appointed chief officer of the coastguard, at +Sutton-in-the-Marsh, in the county of Lincoln. Though a very brave man, +and a steady officer, he did not appear to have any very serious notions +of religion, until he was compelled by a serious wound to keep at home. +It was the blessing of God to him, and others, that this accident +happened to him, for his mind appears to have been awakened to a deep +sense of his past sins, and his soul very much aroused to inquiry, by +the kindness of an excellent neighbour, who dressed his wounds for him, +and did her best endeavours to pour in consolation upon his broken +heart. +</p> +<p> +He became sensible of his need of a Saviour; and never after forsook the +help he found in his necessity, but became useful and exemplary, and +even the means, by the blessing of God, of saving others of his comrades +and companions. He died on the 17th of December, 1836, after affording +to all around him, a Christian example of patience under suffering +affliction. +</p> +<p> +He was interred in the churchyard at Sutton, and a stone at the head of +his grave contains the following inscription:— +</p> + +<p class="center">IN MEMORY OF<br /> +EDWARD CATCHPOLE,<br /> +A NATIVE OF IPSWICH,<br /> +IN THE COUNTY OF SUFFOLK,<br /> +AND LATE CHIEF OFFICER OF THE<br /> +COASTGUARD<br /> +STATIONED AT THIS PLACE,<br /> +WHO DIED DECEMBER THE 17TH, 1836,<br /> +AGED 58 YEARS.<br /> +</p> +<p><i>Sutton-in-the-Marsh</i>, Jan. 1847.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> The specimens in question may be seen distinguished by a +label attached to them with the following words:—</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Manura Superba.</span><br /> +"<span class="smcap">Lyra, or Botany Bay Pheasant.</span><br /> +</p> +<p> +"These beautiful birds were sent to the late Mrs. Cobbold, of the Cliff, +by Margaret Catchpole, a female servant, who stole a coach-horse from +the late John Cobbold, Esq., and rode it up to London in one night. She +was in the act of selling the horse when she was taken. She was in man’s +apparel. She was tried at Bury in 1797, and received sentence of death, +which sentence, owing to the entreaties of the prosecutor, was changed +to seven years’ transportation; but breaking out of gaol, she was +afterwards transported for life. +</p> +<p> +"Presented to this Museum by R. K. Cobbold, Esq.”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="transnote"> +<p>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:</p> + +<p>The intent of the corrections listed below is to restore the text to the +author’s intent, as best as that can be surmised. Usually, a space is +left where a missing character should have appeared. Spelling varies and +has been retained, with the exceptions noted below.</p> + +<table width="70%" summary="errata"> +<col width="15%" /> <col width="75%" /> +<tr> + <td><a href="#CORR_1">p. 108</a></td> + <td>["]Why he has got”</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><a href="#CORR_2">p. 150</a></td> + <td>and be industrious[.]</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><a href="#CORR_3">p. 171</a></td> + <td>they treat me scurvily[?/!]</td> +</tr> + +<tr> + <td><a href="#CORR_4">p. 264</a></td> + <td>Did you ever see a better shape[?]</td> +</tr> + +<tr> + <td><a href="#CORR_5">p. 310</a></td> + <td>the escape of any prisoner from the g[oa/ao]l</td> +</tr> + +<tr> + <td><a href="#CORR_6">p. 415</a></td> + <td>in order to [] my introduction: missing word</td> +</tr> + +<tr> + <td><a href="#CORR_7">p. 417</a></td> + <td>and came over to England[,/.]</td> +</tr> + +<tr> + <td><a href="#CORR_8">p. 420</a></td> + <td>Bishop[s'/'s]</td> +</tr> +</table> + +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The History of Margaret Catchpole, by +Richard Cobbold + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORY OF MARGARET CATCHPOLE *** + +***** This file should be named 39326-h.htm or 39326-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/3/2/39326/ + +Produced by Tor Martin Kristiansen, KD Weeks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: The History of Margaret Catchpole + A Suffolk Girl + +Author: Richard Cobbold + +Release Date: April 1, 2012 [EBook #39326] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORY OF MARGARET CATCHPOLE *** + + + + +Produced by Tor Martin Kristiansen, KD Weeks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: + +Please visit the Notes at the end of this text for details of any +corrections made during the preparation of this text. Italics in the +original are indicated here as _italics_. + + + + + The World's Classics + + + CXIX + + MARGARET CATCHPOLE + + BY + + RICHARD COBBOLD + + + + + OXFORD: HORACE HART + + PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY + + [Illustration] + + + + + [Illustration] + + HISTORY OF + MARGARET + CATCHPOLE + + BY + + RICHARD COBBOLD + + + + + THE HISTORY OF + MARGARET CATCHPOLE + + A SUFFOLK GIRL + + BY + RICHARD COBBOLD + + WITH AN INTRODUCTION + BY CLEMENT SHORTER + + [Illustration] + + HENRY FROWDE + OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS + LONDON, NEW YORK, TORONTO AND MELBOURNE + + + + + Richard Cobbold + + + + + Born, Ipswich 1797 + Died January 5, 1877 + +_'Margaret Catchpole' was first published in 1845. In 'The World's +Classics' it was first published in 1907 and reprinted in 1912._ + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +Three personalities interest us in reading the novel of _Margaret +Catchpole_--the author, the heroine, and the author's mother, in whose +service the real Margaret Catchpole was employed. Neither the author nor +his mother has been the subject of much biographical effort, although +Richard Cobbold was an industrious novelist, poet, and essayist for a +long period of years, and wrote this one book that will always, I think, +be read. His mother, Elizabeth Cobbold, made some reputation as a writer +of verse, and is immortalized for us in Charles Dickens's Mrs. Leo +Hunter. Fortunately we have a sketch of her by one Laetitia Jermyn, +dated 1825, and attached to a volume of _Poems_, published at Ipswich in +that year.[1] Laetitia Jermyn tells us that Elizabeth's maiden name was +Knipe, and that she was born in Watling Street, London, about 1764, her +father being Robert Knipe of Liverpool. In 1787 she published a little +volume of verse entitled _Six Narrative Poems_, which she dedicated to +Sir Joshua Reynolds, evidently by permission. It is clear that in +girlhood she had made the acquaintance of the great painter. Her +biographer says nothing about her being an actress, but it is a +tradition in Ipswich that this was for a time her profession. In 1790 +she was married at Liverpool to William Clarke, a Portman of the +borough and Comptroller of the Customs of Ipswich, who was apparently +about sixty years of age and in very delicate health. The sprightly +young wife wrote the following lines to her husband on St. Valentine's +Day, soon after their marriage:-- + + Eliza to William this Valentine sends, + While ev'ry good wish on the present attends; + And freely she writes, undisturb'd by a fear, + Tho' prudes may look scornful, and libertines sneer. + Tho' tatlers and tale-bearers smiling may say, + "Your Geniuses always are out of the way," + Sure none but herself would such levities mix, + With the seriousness suited to grave twenty-six. + A Wife send a Valentine! Lord, what a whim! + And then of all people to send it to him! + Make love to her husband! my stars, how romantic! + The Girl must be certainly foolish or frantic; + But I always have thought so, else what could engage + Her to marry a man who is twice her own age? + While the tabbies are thus on my motives enlarging, + My sentiments William may read in the margin. + + On the wings of old Time have three months past away + Since I promis'd "to honour, to love, and obey," + And surely my William's own heart will allow + That my conduct has ne'er disagreed with my vow. + Would health spread her wings round my husband and lord, + To his cheeks could the smiles of delight be restor'd; + The blessing with gratitude I should receive, + As the greatest that Mercy benignant could give; + And heedless of all that conjecture may say, + With praise would remember St. Valentine's day. + +I quote this valentine at length because it is a fair sample of the +quality of our poet's efforts. At the end of the eighteenth century, and +far into the nineteenth, a rhyming faculty of this kind was quite +sufficient to make a literary reputation in an English provincial town, +and in the case of Mrs. Clarke it was followed up by the writing of a +novel, _The Sword_, published at Liverpool in 1791. It is interesting to +find the name of Roscoe the historian among the subscribers for this +book. In the same year--within six months of her marriage--the writer +lost her husband. + +The interest of Elizabeth Knipe's life, however, begins for us when very +shortly after this she became the wife of John Cobbold, of the Cliff +Brewery, Ipswich. Cobbold was a widower. He had already had sixteen +children, of whom fourteen were then living. When it is remembered that +by his second wife he had six more children it will be seen that there +was a large family, and it is not surprising therefore that the Cobbold +name is still very much in evidence in Norfolk and Suffolk, and +particularly in Ipswich. "Placed in the bosom of this numerous family", +writes her biographer, "and indulged in the means of gratifying her +benevolent and liberal spirit, 'The Cliff' became the home of her +dearest affections, the residence of taste, and the scene of +hospitality." One need not complain of the lady that she was not very +much of a poet, for she had otherwise a versatile character. In addition +to being, as we are assured, a good housekeeper, she was, if her +self-portraiture be accepted, a worker in many fields:-- + + A botanist one day, or grave antiquarian, + Next morning a sempstress, or abecedarian; + Now making a frock, and now marring a picture, + Next conning a deep, philosophical lecture; + At night at the play, or assisting to kill + The time of the idlers with whist or quadrille; + In cares or amusements still taking a part, + Though science and friendship are nearest my heart. + +Laetitia Jermyn tells us much about her charity and kindness of heart, +her zeal in behalf of many movements to help the poor, and she dwells +with enthusiasm upon her friend's literary achievements.[2] But the +scope of this Introduction to her son's book does not justify devoting +more attention to the mother, although her frequent appearance in +Margaret Catchpole's partially true story demands that something be said +about her "mistress". Elizabeth Cobbold died in 1824. Her husband +outlived her for eleven years. John Cobbold (1746-1835) traced back his +family in the direct line as landowners in Suffolk to a Robert Cobbold, +who died in 1603. He was a banker as well as a brewer, and lived first +at "The Cliff" and afterwards at "Holywells", which has ever since been +the seat of the head of the family. It was the fourteenth child of his +first marriage--Henry Gallant Cobbold--who was saved from drowning by +Margaret Catchpole. + +It was Richard Cobbold, one of the six sons of the second marriage of +John Cobbold, who was the author of this story. When he was born he had +ten nephews and nieces awaiting him, the children of his brothers and +sisters of the first family, and he was at school with his own nephew, +who was just a fortnight younger than himself. The nephew was John +Chevallier Cobbold, who for twenty-one years represented Ipswich in +Parliament. For this information I am indebted to a grandson[3], who +also sends me the following anecdotes:-- + + When John Cobbold--the father of twenty-two children--was High + Sheriff, he once persuaded the Judge to come to dine with him on + condition that there should be no one to meet him except his (J. + C.'s) own family. When the Judge was shown into a drawing-room full + of people, he was very angry, and said loudly before the company, + "Mr. Cobbold, you have deceived me." Explanations followed, and the + Judge was introduced to the various members of the family. + + Elizabeth Cobbold was in the habit of saying that when she married + her husband she found no books in the house except Bibles and + account-books. + + Brewing was such good business in those days that John Cobbold was + able to give to each of his two youngest sons (twenty-first and + twenty-second children) a University education, and to buy for each + of them a church living worth L1,000 a year. + +Richard Cobbold was educated at Bury St. Edmunds and at Caius College, +Cambridge, was destined for the Church, and when he married he was a +curate in Ipswich[4], but his father obtained for him the living of +Wortham, near Diss, where he was Rector from 1825 until his death in +1877. He was also rural dean of Hartismere. Several years after +celebrating his golden wedding--Dr. Spencer Cobbold informs me--he and +his wife died within a day or two of each other; the survivor did not +know the other was gone; both were buried at the same time. Of the three +sons who survived, one became Rector of Hollesley, another was the +father of the well-known amateur footballer, W. N. Cobbold, and the +third was the Fellow of the Royal Society, to whom I have already +referred, and to whose son I am indebted for so many interesting facts. + +That Richard Cobbold was not particularly honoured in his own country +may be gathered from many quarters. One writer speaks of his "little +vanities, his amusing egotisms, and his good natured pomposity". It was +clearly not Suffolk that helped to make his fame, if we may accept one +of the few printed references to him that I have been able to find:-- + + I confess I never knew a Suffolk man at home or abroad who would + take any pride in being the fellow countryman of this clerical + novel-writer; but in different parts of England I have seen reason + to believe that our division of the eastern counties has a place in + the minds of many thousands of people only by reason of the Rev. + Richard Cobbold and his works, that the ancient town of Ipswich, + which we hail from as if it were a niche in the temple of fame, has + never been heard of except as the scene of some of the chief + adventures of Margaret Catchpole.[5] + +Other books are assigned to our author in the catalogues, but I doubt if +one of them survives other than _Margaret Catchpole_, which not only +survives, but is really a classic in its way. One story, indeed, +_Freston Tower_, held the public for a time almost as well as the +present book, but I imagine it has ceased to command the attention even +of the most remote village library, where indeed it was long ago worn +threadbare.[6] Essentially our author is a man of one book, and many +adventitious circumstances helped him here. It was no small thing that +the heroine should actually have been a native of the very district in +which the writer lived. She was not merely a vivid tradition of his +boyhood, but had been in the service of his mother and had stolen from +his father the horse that gave her so unpleasant a notoriety. Here was +a romance ready to hand, which needed but to be set down in passably +good writing to attract attention. It might have been worse written than +it was by this worthy clergyman and would still have secured readers. +How much is truth and how much is fiction in the story will never be +known. If Mr. Cobbold had an abundance of documents about this girl +Margaret Catchpole and her affairs, inherited from his parents, he must +have destroyed them. He claims in the course of the story that, as +Margaret three times saved the life of a member of Mr. Cobbold's family, +it is not surprising that the records of her life should be so strictly +preserved among them. But these records do not appear to exist any +longer. It is doubtful if they ever did exist. The author probably +worked from family traditions rather than from documents. He possessed, +in addition, a genuine imaginative faculty. + +Such documents as do exist do not amount to enough to justify the +author's declaration that here is "a perfectly true narrative". Mr. +Frank Woolnough, of Ipswich[7], courteously informs me that a letter by +Margaret Catchpole, written only a few days before she sailed to +Australia, and the lyre bird that she sent to her mistress about a year +after her arrival, are the two curiosities of the Museum most eagerly +inquired after by strangers. Here is the letter in question:-- + + ipswich May 25th 1801 + honred madam + + i am sorrey i have to inform you this Bad newes that i am going + away on wedensday next or thursday at the Longest so i hav taken + the Liberty my good Ladey of trobling you with a few Lines as it + will Be the Larst time i ever shall trobell you in this sorrofoll + Confinement my sorrows are very grat to think i must Be Banished + out of my owen Countreay and from all my Dearest friendes for ever + it is very hard inded for any one to think on it and much moor for + me to enduer the hardship of it honred madam i should Be very + happey to see you on tuesday Befor i Leve englent if it is not to + much trobbell for you for i am in grat confushon my self now my + sorrowes are dobbled i must humbly Beg on your Goodness to Consider + me a Littell trifell of monney it wold Be a very Grat Comfort to + your poor + + unhappy searvent + Margreat Catchpole + +How small a matter a sentence of death for horse-stealing was counted in +the closing years of the eighteenth century may be gathered from the +fact that the contemporary newspaper report of 1797 runs only to five +lines, as follows:-- + + "Margaret Catchpole, for stealing a coach horse, belonging to John + Cobbold, Esq., of Ipswich (with whom she formerly lived as a + servant), which she rode from thence to London in about 10 hours, + dressed in man's apparel, and having there offered it for sale was + detected." + +Undoubtedly one of the characteristics of the book that give it so +permanent a place in literature is the circumstance that it preserves +for us a glimpse of the cruel criminal law of the eighteenth century. +Hanging for small offences went on for years after this, until, indeed, +public opinion was revolted by the case of the young married woman who +in Ludgate Hill lifted a piece of cloth from the counter. She hesitated +and then put it down again. But she had been seen, and was arrested, +tried, condemned, and hanged, although it was clearly proved that her +husband had been seized by a press-gang and that her babe cried for +bread. After this time came a reaction against the death penalty for +theft. Margaret, then, was more fortunate than that unhappy woman and +than the more celebrated Deacon Brodie, who was hanged in Edinburgh, the +city which he had adorned as a Councillor, for a house-breaking theft +which brought him four pounds or less. She doubtless owed her escape to +the powerful influence of the Cobbolds.[8] + +_Margaret Catchpole_ is the classic novel of Suffolk. That county of +soothing landscape and bracing sea has produced greater books; it has +given us more interesting authors than Richard Cobbold. Within its +borders were written the many fine poems of George Crabbe, the many +attractive letters of Edward Fitz Gerald. The remarkable paraphrase from +the Persian known to all the English speaking world as _The Rubaiyat of +Omar Khayyam_ was composed here. But, although many latter-day novelists +have laid their scenes in these pleasant places, made memorable by the +art of Constable, not one has secured so fascinating a topic or so +world-wide an audience. Margaret Catchpole is one of the few heroines of +fiction of whom one loves to remember that she was real flesh and blood. + + CLEMENT SHORTER. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: _Poems by Mrs. Elizabeth Cobbold, with a Memoir of the +Author._ Ipswich: Printed and sold by J. Raw in the Butter Market, +1825.] + +[Footnote 2: The three most talked of books by Elizabeth Cobbold +were:--_The Mince Pye_, an Heroic Epistle, humbly addressed to the +Sovereign Dainty of a British Feast, by Caroline Petty Pasty, 1800. +_Cliff Valentines_, 1813. _An Ode to the Victory of Waterloo_, 1815. The +suggestion is made in the _Dictionary of National Biography_ that she +was descended on the mother's side from Edmund Waller the poet, but this +is exceedingly improbable.] + +[Footnote 3: Dr. Spencer Cobbold, of Batheston, Somerset, a grandson of +Richard Cobbold, and the son of T. Spencer Cobbold, M.D. (1828-1886), +the distinguished helminthologist, who was the youngest F.R.S. of his +day. He had made some original investigations concerning Entozoa, and +was the author of many books on "Parasites" and kindred subjects.] + +[Footnote 4: At the Tower Church. He lived at St. Margaret's Green.] + +[Footnote 5: _Public Men of Ipswich and East Suffolk_, by Richard +Gowing. Ipswich: W. J. Scopes, 1875.] + +[Footnote 6: The following books by Richard Cobbold are in the British +Museum Library:-- + + _Valentine Verses, or Lines of Truth, Love, and Virtue_ 1827 + + _A Sermon on Matthew xiv_ 1829 + + _The Spirit of the Litany of the Church of England._ + A Poem 1833 + + _The History of Margaret Catchpole, a Suffolk Girl._ + 2 vols. 1845 + + _Mary Anne Wellington. A Soldier's Daughter, + Wife and Widow._ 3 vols. 1846 + + _Zenon the Martyr._ 3 vols. 1847 + + _The Young Man's Home, or The Penitent's Return_ 1848 + + _The Character of Woman._ A Lecture 1848 + + _A Voice from the Mount_ 1848 + + _A Sermon on Genesis i. 3_ 1849 + + _Conversations between J. Rye and Mr. Parr_ 1848 + + _The Comforter, or Short Addresses from the Book of + Job_ 1850 + + _A Father's Legacy._ The Proverbs of Solomon in + Prose and Verse 1850 + + _Freston Tower, or The Early Days of Cardinal + Wolsey._ 3 vols. 1850 + + _Courtland_: a Novel. By the Daughter of Mary + Anne Wellington. 3 vols. 1852 + + _The Union Child's Belief_ 1855 + + _J. H. Steggall. A Real History of a Suffolk Man_ 1857 + + _Canticles of Life_ 1858 +] + +[Footnote 7: The Secretary of the Borough of Ipswich Museum and Free +Library.] + +[Footnote 8: The punishment of death for horse-stealing was abolished in +1832, but in 1833 a little boy of nine who pushed a stick through a +cracked window and pulled out some painters' colours worth twopence was +sentenced to death. Since 1838 no person has been hanged in England for +any offence other than murder. See Spencer Walpole's _History of England +from the Conclusion of the Great War in 1815_.] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + DEDICATION xvii + + AUTHOR'S PREFACE xix + + CHAPTER + + I. EARLY SCENES 1 + + II. THE TEMPTATION 26 + + III. MISFORTUNES 34 + + IV. DECEIT 47 + + V. WILD SCENES 56 + + VI. HARVEST-HOME 71 + + VII. THE CONFLICT 83 + + VIII. DISAPPOINTMENT 100 + + IX. EVIL WAYS 115 + + X. THE PARTING 120 + + XI. THE LAST INTERVIEW 131 + + XII. THE WELCOME VISIT 137 + + XIII. POVERTY AND PRIDE 152 + + XIV. A CHEERFUL CHANGE 166 + + XV. THE NEW PLACE 175 + + XVI. BRIGHT HOPES 187 + + XVII. ALTERCATION AND EXPLANATION 191 + + XVIII. THE RECONCILIATION 197 + + XIX. THE ALTERATION 206 + + XX. CHANGE OF SCENE AND CHANGE OF PLACE 219 + + XXI. GUILT AND CRIME 244 + + XXII. PREPARATION FOR TRIAL 268 + + XXIII. TRIAL AND CONDEMNATION TO DEATH 277 + + XXIV. THE REPRIEVE AND REMOVAL 290 + + XXV. THE ESCAPE 297 + + XXVI. PURSUIT AND CAPTURE 309 + + XXVII. SECOND TRIAL, AND SECOND TIME + CONDEMNED TO DEATH 317 + + XXVIII. TRANSPORTATION 338 + + XXIX. BANISHMENT 351 + + XXX. REPENTANCE AND AMENDMENT 370 + + XXXI. CONCLUSION 407 + + SUPPLEMENT BY THE AUTHOR, A.D. 1858 413 + + + + + TO + + THE MARCHIONESS OF CORNWALLIS + + + Most Noble Lady, + + Assured that this simple narrative, the most remarkable events of + which are still fresh in your Ladyship's memory, will be found far + more interesting to the public than many highly-wrought works of + fiction, and that to none will it prove more acceptable than to + your Ladyship, who for many years resided in this county, beloved + and respected by all who knew you, for the encouragement you + afforded to every amiable virtue; to you it is dedicated, with + sincere respect, by your Ladyship's humble and devoted servant, + + RICHARD COBBOLD. + + _Rectory, Wortham, near Diss, Suffolk._ + + + + +AUTHOR'S PREFACE + + +Independently of this simple history being a relation of facts, well +known to many persons of the highest respectability still living in the +county of Suffolk, it is hoped that an instructive lesson may be +conveyed by it to many, who may not yet have seen the necessity of early +and religious instruction. + +These pages will prove, in a remarkable manner, that, however great may +be the natural endowments of the human mind, yet, without the culture of +religious principles, and the constant discipline of the Holy Spirit, +they will never enable their possessor to resist the temptations of +passion, but will be as likely to lead to great crimes as to great +virtues. + +It will be seen that, from the want alone of the early impressions of +religion, the heroine of these pages fell into errors of temper and +passion, which led to the violation of the laws of God and man; but +that, after the inculcation of Christian faith and virtue, she became +conspicuous for the sincerity of her reformation and for an exemplary +life: that, though it pleased God to grant her 'a place of repentance', +yet it was through such bitter sorrows and sufferings of mind and body +as she most devoutly desired others might be spared. + +The public may depend upon the truth of the main features of this +narrative: indeed, most of the facts recorded were matters of public +notoriety at the time of their occurrence. The author who here details +them is a son of the lady with whom this extraordinary female lived, and +from whose hands he received the letters and the facts here given. He is +persuaded that much will be found in the history of Margaret Catchpole +highly worthy of praise and imitation; and, if that which is unworthy +shall only be taken as a warning example, he humbly hopes that the +public will be both gratified and benefited by the publication. + +_Rectory, Wortham._ + + + + + THE HISTORY + + OF + + MARGARET CATCHPOLE + + + + +CHAPTER I + +EARLY SCENES + + +The heroine of this romantic but perfectly true narrative was born in +the year 1773. There was a large tract of extra-parochial land toward +the north of the bounds of the parish of Nacton, Suffolk, reaching from +Rushmere Heath down to the banks of the beautiful river Orwell. This +tract was known by the name of Wolfkettel, and commenced at the Seven +Hills, and terminated on the south side of Alneshbourne Priory. + +The spot called the Seven Hills, though originally there were sixteen, +was, in all probability, the site of the famous battle of Arwell, fought +between the Earl of Ulfketel and the Danes, in A.D. 1010. It was a wild +waste, and a great part of it to this day remains much in the same +state, fit only for sheepwalks or a warren, or as a preserve for game. +The tract lying nearest to the Orwell was very early brought into +cultivation; and at the time this narrative commences, was famous for +the production of the best barley in the county. In a cottage on these +lands lived Jonathan Catchpole, an industrious labourer, and father of +six children, of whom Margaret was the second daughter, and youngest +child but one. + +The farm upon which the father and his sons worked was then held by Mr. +Denton, who was well known for his famous Suffolk cart-horses--strong +bone, short joints, clean legs, stout chests, high crests, light +chestnut, with silvery manes, and tails that ought to have swept the +ground, but for a barbarous custom of docking them at that period, one +of the most insane fashions of the day. + +Jonathan Catchpole had a team of these horses to look after, and was the +head ploughman on the estate. His boys were engaged in various parts of +the farm. + +The youngest daughter was made a sort of pet by the rest of the family; +and, as the eldest girl was always of a sickly constitution, it fell to +the lot of Margaret to carry her father's and brothers' meals to them in +the field. + +Who has not seen the healthy face of childhood in those ever interesting +years when activity commences? And what philanthropist, delighting in +scenes of genuine simplicity and nature, could fail to admire the ruddy +glow of youth, and the elastic step of confidence, with which the young +female peasant bounds to meet a parent or a brother, at the welcome hour +of noon, bearing the frugal dinner of bread and cheese, or it may +sometimes chance to be bread and pork? + +The child becomes of some consequence, entrusted with the basket of +provision; and, as she stands against the bank of the hedgerow, watching +the progressive march of the horses as they come toward her, drawing the +plough and turning over the soil, guided as they are by the steady hand +of her father, she presents a picture worthy of observation. + +On these occasions, Margaret was as punctual to her hour as the sun. On +reaching the field she would set her basket down and jump into her +father's arms, and kiss his warm forehead, and receive in return a +reward, which even in infancy gave her the utmost delight, viz. a seat +upon one of the horses' backs, and there she would remain until she was +taken off by the same hands which placed her there, and gave her the +empty basket to carry home. + +"May I come in the evening, father?" she used to say, as she looked +wistfully round the horizon, to see if any appearance of rain forebode +an unfavourable answer; for this request "to come in the evening" +contained an imaginative delight, exceeding in its kind the prospect of +the fox hunter for a coming run. For Margaret, when she did "come in the +evening," used to have the privilege of riding home one of the +plough-horses. + +This was a singular _penchant_ for a female child to imbibe, but with it +mingled the pleasure of her father's and brothers' smiles; and this, +after a day of toil, seemed to give elasticity to their spirits, and +formed an agreeable change to the unvarying monotony of ploughing +straight lines, the clinking of chains, and their rural "_wooah come +ather, woree, wooo, jeh!_" sounds as unintelligible to some readers as +the language of the savages of the Caribbee islands, when first +discovered. + +Sometimes the crack of the whip would make the horses start, and the +young men, her brothers, who would try to frighten their sister, found, +instead of so doing, that it only increased the pleasure of her ride. At +length, she began to trot the leading horse home. + +After a time, this privilege was extended to riding the farm-horses down +to water; and this appears to have been the very summit of Margaret's +delight. She used to take her brother's whip in her tiny hand, drive the +whole team before her into the water, keep them in order while there, +and then drive them out again, up the sandy lane, into the stable-yard. + +It is well known that at such times it is no easy task to sit a +cart-horse; for they will kick, and plunge, and exhibit that rough kind +of amusement known by the name of "horse-play," which has as much of +shrieking and biting as it has of gambolling in it. + +In going out to, and coming home from, water, horses accustomed to the +heaviest labour, if at all well fed, will exhibit no mean share of this +species of spirit; and woe be to the lad without a whip in his hand, or +who has not a very steady seat! + +Gainsborough and Constable were both lovers of the scenery around +Ipswich; and many are the sketches in the possession of their Suffolk +friends, which speak their admiration of the beautiful landscapes which +surround the river Orwell. + +Had these artists seen Margaret in her equestrian character, they would +have immortalized her; for nothing could have been more appropriate to +the spirit of their works. + +Margaret was fearless as a Newmarket jockey; and never was known to have +had a single fall. She kept her seat as well as any of the tutored +children of the celebrated but unfortunate Ducrow: indeed, it may be +fairly questioned if any one of his troop could have managed to sit a +Suffolk cart-horse with the same composure. + +The fame of our young heroine's exploits reached but little farther than +the sequestered farm-house to which her parents belonged, excepting now +and then at the Ipswich races, when some of the lads saw an awkward +rider, they would exclaim to each other, "Margaret would beat him +hollow." + +Time flew swiftly on, producing no farther change in the family of the +Catchpoles than what may be usually seen in the habitations of the +labouring class. Those are generally the most stationary race of all +people in a parish, who have constant employment on a large farm: the +owners of lands change their places of abode--sell their estates--and +leave the country; the tenants frequently change their occupations; but +the labourer remains to cultivate the soil, and is always found a +resident among those "_poor who shall never perish out of the land_." +They have their friends and fellow-labourers, and feel as much interest +in each other's welfare as the members of richer or wider-spread +fraternities. + +The Catchpoles and the Cracknells were two families that principally +worked upon the lands of Mr. Denton. Their houses were indeed widely +separated; but as their labours were in the same field, their occasions +of meeting were frequent, their intimacy became strict, and they were of +mutual assistance to each other. One lived near the street at Nacton, +and the other upon the farm; so that whenever there was any occasion to +go to Nacton, the Catchpoles always had a friend's house to call at, and +the Cracknells were as constantly using the Catchpoles' cottage at the +entrance of the lane leading down to the farm-house. + +This intimacy was productive of especial accommodation on the +Sabbath-day; for the Catchpoles, being at a great distance from church, +they made use of the Cracknells' cottage, near the street, and used to +carry their meals there, with the view of attending the church service +twice on that day. + +At that time, education was not so widely spread as it is now; and the +particular spot in which this labourer's cottage stood being +extra-parochial, they had to seek what little instruction they could +obtain from the neighbouring parish of Nacton. The Reverend Mr. Hewitt +was as attentive to his people as he could be, and was much assisted in +his duties by the family of Admiral Vernon, who at that time lived at +Orwell Park, and by Philip Broke, Esq., the great landlord of that +district, and the father of our deeply-lamented and gallant Suffolk +hero, Sir Philip Broke. But education was not considered then so great a +desideratum as it is now, though the pious wish of England's patriarchal +sovereign, George III, "that every cottager might have a Bible, and be +able to read it," was nobly responded to through every densely-peopled +district in his kingdom. + +The Catchpoles were not an irreligious family, though they could none of +them read or write. They were not ignorant, though they were uneducated. +The father always repeated aloud the Lord's Prayer every night before +his family retired to rest, and the first thing before they went to +their work in the morning. They were generally respected by their master +and mistress, their friends and acquaintance. They were a +well-conducted, orderly family, and were united in love as dearly as +those who had the greater zest of education and cultivation to heighten +their domestic affections. + +Margaret grew up to her thirteenth year, a fine, active, intelligent +girl. She had a brother younger than herself by five or six years, of +whom she was very fond, from having nursed him during the occasional +absence of her mother. Her elder sister was always, as we have stated, +of a sickly constitution, and very delicate: she had very little bodily +strength, but she had learned to knit and to sew, and in these things +she excelled, and was the sempstress of the whole family. She was of a +sweet temper, so gentle, so affectionate, and so quiet, that, though a +complete contrast to her sister, she nevertheless maintained a just +ascendancy over the high spirit of Margaret, which was always curbed by +any quiet reproof from the calm wisdom of the invalid. + +We have seen something of Margaret's infant spirit: we must now record a +simple fact of her childhood, which exhibits a singular instance of +intrepidity and presence of mind in a child not yet fourteen years old. + +It chanced that her mother one day sent her down to the farm-house to +ask for a little broth, which had been promised by Mrs. Denton, her +mistress, for poor Susan. Her father and her brothers were all at work +on a distant part of the farm; and, being harvest-time, master and man +were every one engaged. When Margaret arrived at the gate, she heard a +shriek from a female in the house, and in another minute she was in the +kitchen, where the mistress of the house had suddenly fallen down in a +fit. In one moment the girl of fourteen exhibited a character which +showed the powerful impetus of a strong mind. The two girls in the house +were shrieking with fright over their fallen mistress, and were +incapable of rendering the least assistance. They stood wringing their +hands and stamping their feet, and exclaiming, "Oh, my mistress is +dead!--Oh, my mistress is dead!" + +"She is not dead!" said Margaret; "she is not dead! Don't stand +blubbering there, but get some cold water; lift up her head, untie her +cap, loose her gown, and raise her into the chair." Not waiting to see +how her words were taken, she did the work herself, and caused the +others to help her. She used the water freely, and gave the chest full +play, dragged the chair toward the door, sent one of the girls for some +vinegar, and made the other rub her hands and feet; and did not slacken +her attention until she saw some symptoms of returning animation. When +the breathing became more composed, and the extremities more sensitive, +she sent off one of the girls to the harvest-field for help; and telling +the servant-girl that she was going for Dr. Stebbing, she went to the +stable, unslipped the knot by which the pony was tied to the rack; and, +with only the halter in her hand, without saddle or bridle, she sprang +upon the fiery little Suffolk Punch, snapped her fingers instead of a +whip, and was up the sandy lane, and on to the high road to Ipswich, +before the other girl was fairly across the first field towards her +master. She did not stop even to tell her mother where she was going, +but dashed past the cottage. + +On she went, and well had she her own wishes answered by the fiery +little animal she bestrode. Her heart was up, and so was the pony's, +who, feeling a light weight upon his back, and a tight seat over his +ribs, gave full play to his lungs and legs, and answered to her heart's +content the snap of the finger for expedition. Those who beheld the +animal would be astonished, and ask where all the speed could be. But +speed there was in his strong and well-knit limbs. So close was he put +together, that his action was almost like a ball bounding down the side +of Malvern hills. Nothing seemed to check the speed of Margaret or her +steed. She passed every cart jogging on to Ipswich market, without +taking any notice of the drivers, though she knew many of them well. Her +mistress and the doctor were the only things in her mind's eye at this +time, and they were four miles asunder, and the sooner she could bring +them together the better. She even met Admiral Vernon's carriage just as +she turned on to the Ipswich race-course, at the part now called Nacton +Corner. The Admiral's attention was called to the extraordinary sight of +a female child astride a pony at full speed, with nothing but a halter +over his head, and that held as loosely as if the rider wished to go at +full speed. The servants called to the child, even the Admiral was +sufficiently excited to do the same; but he might as well have attempted +to stop a vessel in full sail, with a strong and favourable wind. + +Away she dashed, regardless of any impediment. She passed one young +farmer from Stratton Hall, who rode what might be termed a high-bred +horse. It was a noble turf, and an open course; and the young man, as +much astonished as if it were an apparition before him, though convinced +that it was flesh and blood, stuck his spurs into his charger's side, +and gave him his rein with the full determination to overtake her. But +this was not so easy a task as he anticipated. The little nag, hearing +the clank of heels behind him, turned his head first on one side, then +on the other; and, lifting up his nose like a stag, darted onward with +redoubled speed. Not Mazeppa with more sudden bound could have sprung +forward with more spirit than this wild little home-bred nag did down +the wide turf of the race-course. The youth called aloud to know what +was the matter, but Margaret heeded him not; and long before she reached +the stewards' stand, she had fairly distanced the young squire of +Stratton Hall. At length she reached the end of the race-course, and +came on to the common of Bishop's Hill. It is a very deep descent down +that hill to the town of Ipswich, which from its summit seems to lie at +the very bottom of an extensive pit. But it is a noble expanse that lies +before the spectator upon that eminence. The beautiful river flowing to +the left, and forming an expanded semicircle bordering the town, and the +distant country rising with amphitheatric grandeur beyond the barracks, +and above the towers of twelve churches, might induce even a hasty +traveller to pause and look upon that sight. But Margaret did not pause. +Down she dashed from the verge of the hill into the very thickest part +of the back hamlet of St. Clement's. It was market-day, and scores of +pig-carts, and carriers' vans, and waggons, stood on one side of the +road, taking up nearly half the street. But on through them all at full +speed dashed the intrepid girl. From every house people rushed to see +the sight--a girl, with her bonnet hanging down behind her, and going +like lightning through the crowded thoroughfare, was an extraordinary +sight. + +People gave way as she rode fearlessly on, and followed her up St. +Clement's Fore Street, over the stone pavement across the wash into +Orwell Place, where lived the ever humane though eccentric surgeon, Mr. +George Stebbing. But not until she reached his very door did Margaret +give the first check to the pony. + +A passing spectator, who was at the moment opposite the surgeon's door, +with an instinctive thought of her errand, gave a violent ring at the +surgery-bell, and received such a joyous "Thank you, sir," from the +child, that he stopped to see the result. + +By this time the street was full of spectators, all anxious to know what +was the matter; but Margaret's eye was fixed upon the door, and the very +moment it was opened and the doctor himself appeared, she exclaimed, +"Oh, come to my mistress, sir, directly!--come to my mistress!" + +The gentleman who had rung the bell was Mr. Nathaniel Southgate, of +Great Bealings, a rich and excellent agriculturist, and an acquaintance +of the doctor's. Having followed him into the surgery, and there learnt +the feat the child had performed, he at once resolved to take her into +his own service; and he gave her a crown as a present, telling her, if +she was a good girl she should come and live with him. With the former +communication, Margaret, as might be supposed, was not a little pleased; +but upon the latter she put a very grave face. + +The doctor's gig being by this time ready at the door, he placed +Margaret beside him, and started for the farm, chatting by the way about +her poor sister Susan, whom she asked the doctor to visit as he returned +from the farm. Once only did she seem to reflect in an unfavourable +manner upon the act she had done, and said to the doctor, "I hope, sir, +if my master should be angry at my taking the pony, you will beg of him +to forgive me." + +On arriving at the farm, the doctor found that the mistress of the house +was much better; and he then learned from the servant-girls, that, but +for little Margaret's presence of mind and activity, the apoplectic fit +might have terminated fatally. + +Having given the needful instructions as to the treatment of the +invalid, the doctor once more took Margaret in his gig, and drove to the +cottage; where having visited and prescribed for poor Susan, he took +leave of the grateful family by telling Margaret, that if ever she stood +in need of a friend to help her, she had only to "post off again for the +doctor." + +Numerous were the inquiries concerning Margaret and her expedition, and +she found herself, much to her surprise and chagrin, extolled for her +horsewomanship. She began, therefore, to be shy of riding the horses at +the farm; and modesty told her, now that her fame began to spread, there +was something bold and conspicuous in her former pleasures of this kind. +So sensitive was she upon this point, that she avoided as much as +possible all allusion to her past habits, and for the future carefully +avoided the horse-yard and the horses. Her father and brothers observed +this, and would sometimes say, "Peggy, you will soon forget how to +ride." + +"The sooner the better," she would reply, "if I am to have people +staring at me as they now do." + +Susan perceived with satisfaction that Margaret, instead of being vain, +and puffed up with the notice of the world, was quite the reverse. +Numbers might have risen in their own opinion, and have been giddy from +the continual praises of one and another; but in this case it became a +subject of annoyance rather than of congratulation, and her sister began +to fear, from finding her so much more occupied in the house, and +especially for herself, that Margaret's health would suffer. + +It was with some degree of satisfaction that an opportunity was soon +afforded for a change of place and action for her sister. Her uncle +Catchpole came expressly from Mr. Nathaniel Southgate, of Great +Bealings, to treat with her parents about Margaret's going to service; +and matters were so speedily arranged, agreeably to all parties, that +she was to accompany her uncle on his return home. All seemed to think +it a good thing for the girl; even she herself, though quite new to the +work of a dairymaid, thought she should thus escape the unpleasant +observation she had been subject to. This accounted for the readiness +with which she complied with her uncle's advice. + +When, however, the hour of departure came, never perhaps did a +cottage-girl leave home with a heavier heart: tears, unrestrained tears, +ran in an honest current over her young face. Oh, how Margaret loved her +poor sick sister! how deeply she felt the grief of leaving her! nor +would she consent to leave her, except under the faithful promise that +her father, or one of her brothers, would frequently come and see her, +and bring her word of Susan's health. + +"Dear sister," she said to Susan, "dear sister, if you should be worse, +oh, do let me come and nurse you! I love to wait upon you, I feel so +happy to see you smile." + +"God bless you, dear little Peggy!" was the reply. "God bless you! Mind +and be a good girl, and take pains to do your duty well. Charles, or +John, and sometimes little Ned, will walk over to Bealings. I will send +for you if I am worse, for I too love to have you near me; but it is +best for us both that we should be parted for a time, and especially for +you, as you can learn nothing more at home." + +The kiss of filial and parental and brotherly and sisterly love was +given through many tears, and the little Margaret departed for her first +place. + +She went with a high character from home, and to a place where that good +character had preceded her, in the estimation of the gentleman who so +promptly rang the bell for her at the doctor's door. She stayed a day or +two with her uncle in the cottage in which she was born, and then +entered into the service of Mr. Nathaniel Southgate. At her very first +interview with her new master, she begged of him never to talk about her +riding the pony, and as much as possible to prevent others speaking of +it. This very much raised her in the good opinion of her master and +mistress, for they had some fears lest she might be too fond of riding +to mind her work. They found her, however, completely cured of this +propensity, nor could she be induced, in a new and strange place, ever +to mount a horse or pony. + +How seldom does public praise make mortals shy! yet where true modesty +prevails this is found to be the case. It speaks highly for this young +girl, who, from an innate distaste to notoriety, shunned a habit which +had once been a prevailing pleasure, and in which, till the world spoke +loudly of her merit, she felt no degree of shame. How singular that such +a being should ever become so conspicuous, as she afterwards did, in +that very line which she now so sedulously avoided! Well may we all say, +"We know not what manner of spirit we are of." + +In the situation which Margaret first occupied, her mistress found her +all that she required--she was very apt at learning to do her work, very +diligent in the performance of it, and always gave satisfaction. She had +plenty of employment, and was stirring with the lark; soon understood +the accustomed duties of a dairywoman, and was always praised for +cleanliness and good conduct. + +A year passed away rapidly. Margaret, at fifteen years of age, was as +tall as she was afterwards at twenty; she was strong, too, though slim. +One year makes a great difference in a female at that age--some are +almost women at sixteen, when boys are, generally speaking, awkward +clowns. She went to service before she had completed her fourteenth +year. + +Margaret remained a year and a half at Bealings, remarkable for the +strict propriety of her behaviour, and for the cheerfulness of her +disposition. She had stipulated with her mistress that, in case of her +sister's death, or of her requiring her aid at the near approach +thereto, she should have full permission to leave. It was on this +account that, in the Whitsuntide following, she left her situation, and +went to attend her poor sister. + +Susan, who was then in her twentieth year, had lingered on, gradually +getting weaker and weaker, until she was quite unable to rise from her +bed. Her heart always yearned towards her sister; and, as she had +promised to let her be with her during her few last days, and she +herself thought those days were almost numbered, she now sought her +assistance. Margaret's affection answered the sister's call, and she was +ready to place all her earnings and all her labours at that sick +sister's service. She hesitated not; but, taking a respectful and +grateful leave of the family at Bealings, she was, at Whitsuntide, again +an inmate of her father's house. + +It has been stated, some few pages back, that between the Catchpoles and +Cracknells, as labourers upon the same farm, there existed a close +intimacy: it was Whitsuntide, and Mrs. Cracknell's baby was to be +christened. Poor Susan was to have been one of the sponsors, and the +child to be named after her; but "poor Susan was laid on her pillow," +and could not answer to the call of her neighbour in any other way than +by her prayers. Margaret was therefore asked to take Susan's place, +which she consented to do, and went early to Nacton, to render what +assistance she might be able to give in the celebration of this event. + +Neighbour Cracknell kept a little shop of such goods as might be +obtained at the large, red-bricked, coffin-shaped house of Mr. Simon +Baker, grocer, St. Clement's Street, Ipswich. This shop divided the fore +and back hamlets of St. Clement's, and was the first from the Nacton +Road, entering upon the pavement of the town. Master Cracknell and his +boys spared what they could for the thrifty wife at home, who had fitted +up her closet window with shelves, and placed thereupon a stock of +threads, pins, needles, soap, starch, tape, and such like small and +least perishable articles, as might make some return in the shape of +home profit, instead of working in the fields. + +This cottage stood at the entrance of the village, and the shop, if such +it might be called, had frequent customers among the poor. A single +candle, a small loaf, half an ounce of tea, a halfpennyworth of cheese, +a pennyworth of butter, or sugar, or snuff, or tobacco, could here be +obtained. Thus Dame Cracknell managed to turn a penny in her own way; +contented with small gains, she provided for her rapidly increasing +family in a decent and honest manner, and looked forward with hope for +more custom. She made no outward show to create opposition, and, had she +always done so, might have gone on prosperously; but this joyful +Whitsuntide, which found her and her friends so quietly happy, was +fraught with untoward circumstances, which neither she nor her +neighbours could foresee. She had invited a few friends to partake of +her christening fare, and expected her relative, Stephen Laud, from +Felixstowe Ferry, to stand with Margaret Catchpole and herself as +sponsors for the little Susan. + +This Stephen Laud was a famous boatman, and for many years plied at the +ferry-boat between Harwich and Langer Fort, now called Landguard Fort. +That it required a skilful pilot to manage a ferry-boat, which had +nearly two miles to run from the Suffolk to the Essex side, will be +easily imagined. As government letters were always conveyed from +Harwich to the fort, at that time, the ferryman was in the receipt of +government pay, and it was considered a good situation for an active +man. Such was Stephen Laud--and not only active, but a man of no common +intelligence. He had been left a widower, with one son, William, whose +uncle, a boat-builder at Aldborough, had taken a great liking to him. He +had bound him apprentice to Mr. Turner, the ship-builder, at Harwich, +where the boy had acquired no mean tact at his employment, and grew up a +good workman, though somewhat too free a spirit for a settled character. +He was very fond of the sea, and, from the joyous buoyancy of his +disposition, the captains of the traders to Aldborough used frequently +to give him a run. + +Mr. Crabbe, a brother of the celebrated poet, with whom young Laud +studied navigation, used to say he was the quickest lad as a +mathematician he ever knew. He was a merry, high-spirited sailor, rather +than a boat-builder. He was very intimate with one Captain Bargood, a +master and owner of several ships then trading along the coast, and over +to Holland. + +So taken was the captain with Will Laud, that he would have persuaded +him at once to join service with him. Will was generally liked; and +though his uncle wished him to stick to the boat-building, he could not +but confess that he would make a far better sailor. He knew, however, +that his old father, the pilot, would not approve of his going to sea +for a permanency, without his having a voice in the matter; and as +Captain Bargood offered to give young Laud a fair share of profits +without loss, and Will had such a turn for the sea, he had sent him over +to his father, to ask his consent to this change in his course. This was +the subject of their conversation, as, upon the Whitsuntide mentioned, +they journeyed on foot from Felixstowe Ferry to Nacton, a distance of +six miles. + +"You speak famously, boy, of this captain: he may be all right, and his +offers to you seem to be good. I have heard it hinted, however, that he +is not over-nice; and that though, as times go, he may be an honest +trader, yet that he can find friends to help him over with a cargo of +moonshine, and get a good run too into the country." + +"I never heard a word of any such traffic, father, and whenever I have +been with him I have never seen him in any suspicious company. He would +never persuade me to this work, father. I am the son of a government +man, and I hope I shall always prove myself an honest tar." + +"I hope so too, my boy; I hope so, too; but when once the block runs, +down fall the sails. Take care, my lad; keep your eye ahead." + +"Don't be afraid, father; only you give consent, and I shall sail with +fair wind and weather." + +"I can but wish you well, boy; I can give you but little help. You are +now entering your twentieth year, and seem to me determined to go to +sea. I shall not persuade you against your own inclinations; so, go; and +may the great Pilot above keep you in safety from the dangers of the +breakers! I will do what I can for you." + +This consent seemed to animate young Laud with most fervent +thankfulness, and his elastic spring carried him over every stile he +came to. As they neared the village of Nacton he was chatty upon many +subjects, but more especially upon the object of his journey. + +"I never was at a christening party," said the young man; "whom shall we +meet there, father?" + +"Your relatives on the mother's side are all poor, William, but honest +people. I have long promised to be godfather to one of the Cracknells, +and now I am called upon to make good my promise. You will meet their +friends the Catchpoles, and one or two others. Perhaps Margaret +Catchpole may be there, as her sister Susan, I hear, will never be +likely to get out again." + +"Margaret Catchpole! Margaret Catchpole! I wonder whether that is the +girl whose name I heard so much about two years ago. I was with Captain +Bargood at the Neptune, near the quay, as all the people in the street +were talking about a spirited girl riding a pony full speed from Nacton +to Ipswich for the doctor. The name I heard mentioned was the same you +speak of." + +"And was the very person we shall perhaps see among the party to-day." + +"I am glad of it, for I can easily conceive she must be an enterprising +girl; I shall like to see her much. She must be very young still." + +"About sixteen. I have heard that she is a very respectable young +woman." + +Conversation of this kind served to entertain the youth and his father, +and to divert the current of their thoughts from the sea, until they +arrived at Nacton Street. They descended that ravine-looking village, +and, passing the blacksmith's shop at the bottom of the valley, ascended +the hill near Admiral Vernon's, passed the church towards the Ipswich +road, and arrived at Master Cracknell's cottage. The ever-ready Margaret +had been before them to assist, and had made herself useful in many +ways. The humble holiday party consisted of the Catchpoles, father and +two sons,--the two Calthorpes, Stephen and William Laud, and the no +small family of the Cracknells; and last, not least, the heroine of the +day, Margaret Catchpole. + +The cottage, as the reader may suppose, was full; but welcome were they +all to the christening, and joyful that day were all the party. Between +the young men and Will Laud a quick intimacy commenced. His character +seemed formed for a holiday,--all buoyancy, life, and animation; he +could at one time have his fun with the children, another have feats of +bodily strength with the young men; tell a good story for the old +people, and sing a good song for the whole party. + +Laud was greatly prepossessed in Margaret's favour; he had heard much of +her at Ipswich, and had been long anxious to see her. When he did see +her, she more than answered all his expectations. He thought to see a +lively, spirited child, with whom he might joke of her childish but +noble act, or romp; but he beheld a very respectable, decent young +woman, who, though active and intelligent, was far from having any +childish manners, lively, agreeable, and unaffected, with a quickness +and spirit well answering to his own. + +As for Margaret, such a bright vision of pleasure had never before +entered her thoughts or heart, as stole upon her that day. In short, +both William and Margaret may be said to have imbibed a partiality for +each other on this day, which ripened into such an attachment as has +seldom been recorded among all the host of love-stories which fill the +pages of romance. But these pages record no romance of unreal life; they +tell a plain, unvarnished tale,--a tale which, having been continually +related in private circles, is now given to the world at large, as a +remarkable series of events in + + The short and simple annals of the poor. + +The merry christening passed away, and the friends parted, but not for a +long period. Charles Catchpole, who had been mightily taken with young +Laud, agreed to accompany him to his father's. They all left the cottage +of Cracknell together, and all arrived in safety at their respective +homes; but not without Will Laud having walked double distance, to show +a devotion to our heroine which he, at that time, most sincerely felt. + +But they, like all lovers and friends, must and did part. Young William +had a long and agreeable soliloquy with himself, as he traversed again +that road by night which he had gone in the morning with his father. How +different the current of his thoughts! In the morning he was all raging +for the sea, but what a comparative calm as to that desired object now +ensued. There was tumult stirring of another kind, which seemed to +engross the whole of his thoughts, and centre them upon the land, not +upon the ocean. + +It is unnecessary to follow this youth through his every day's journey +to and from Margaret's cottage. His uncle began to think that his father +had succeeded in making a landsman of him; for Time, which flies +swiftly on the wings of Love, goes slower and more mechanically with +those who have to work hard every day, and whose bread depends upon the +sweat of their brow. + +Charles Catchpole, though he caught infection from the roving spirit of +young Laud, and found in him a love of enterprise which charmed him, did +not seem so fond of the sea as to be induced to leave for it his more +peaceful occupation. The young men were so far pleased with each other, +because Laud endeavoured to entertain Charles, and Charles was only too +happy to be so entertained. Yet the young landsman wanted to know more +of distant countries than young Laud, who had only been a coasting +trader, could tell him. He had once, indeed, been over to Holland, but +did not go far into the country; so that all the information he could +give related to simply the seaport towns on the coast. + +Whence arose this inquiring spirit on the part of Charles Catchpole, no +one could determine. The lad had once expressed a wish to be a soldier; +and it was the old clerk and sexton of the parish of Nacton who used to +read and explain to him that there were strange people in the world; and +these notions, which had for some time slumbered, seemed to be awakened +by young Laud's company. + +Will Laud had idle time to spare, and he devoted a great portion of it +to Margaret, and was a constant attendant at Nacton. All the family knew +of the attachment, and it was no secret with any neighbour who chanced +to come in, all of whom were well pleased with Will Laud, and +congratulated their respective friends on the future happiness of the +young people. Even the master and mistress, for whom the family worked, +were satisfied with appearances; and the maids at the farm, who had +never quite forgiven Margaret for her good offices, were not a little +jealous at the early prepossession of the young sailor for "the girl," +as they called her. + +Poor Susan, the sick sister, was the only one of the whole family who +did not like Will Laud. There frequently dwells in the sickliest forms +the purest love. Susan felt more interested for Margaret's future +happiness than did any one else in the family. Through all that weakness +of body, there was a strength of mind and of judgement, which those who +have for a long time had the prospect of dissolution before them +frequently possess. She looked with penetrating eyes upon the young man. +She weighed well his spirit, listened to his free conversation, and +formed her idea of the young man's character, not from outward +appearance, but from the tone of sentiment which came from his heart. +She was shocked to find that there was, through all his attentions and +general desire to please every one, a levity of expression upon the most +serious subjects. She did not say much to Margaret upon this point; but +her manner towards her lover was colder, and, in some measure, more +repulsive than her sister liked. It is said, that "we can always tell +those who love us." It is equally true "that we can always tell those +who dislike us." + +Poor Susan did not openly rebuke Will Laud. Yet he perceived that she +did not approve of him, and said to Margaret--"I do not think your +sister Susan likes me." Why should he think this? He had never heard +Susan utter a word of rebuke to him. But sometimes, in the midst of his +wild vagaries, a glance of that bright eye which flashed, searching into +his spirit, would make the young sailor pause and finish his story in a +tamer way than he intended. Susan's affectionate disposition would not +allow her, in that apparently happy period of the two lovers' +intercourse, to speak anything harshly, but the more than usual warmth +of her interest was not to be mistaken. That pressure of the hand; that +kiss, with a starting tear in the eye, that hope expressed that she +might be happy, though a fixed tearfulness of doubt seemed to hover over +her mind, whilst she so often prayed for her sister, made Margaret +almost tremble, as if Susan foreboded evil. + +"Dear sister," said Margaret to her one day; "dear sister, you look so +gloomily on my lover and me!" + +"No, Margaret. I look only with love upon you, and am only, perhaps, too +anxious for your future happiness. I am not gloomy. I love you so +dearly, Margaret, that I pray that you may live in happiness all your +days. I do not like to lose any of your love." + +"Nor I any of yours, dear Susan; but sometimes I fear I either have so +done, or may so do. Laud fancies you do not like him." + +"It is only that I love you so dearly, that if any one loves you less +than I do, it makes me feel unhappy. I like Laud very well as a visitor, +and he appears very fond of you, Margaret; but he seems to me to think +too much of himself to be exactly what I wish him to be, for your sake." + +"May you not be mistaken, Susan? I am very young, and it must be years +before we marry. Do not you think he may be likely to improve with his +years?" + +"I should have thought so, had I not observed that vanity prompts him to +boast of his own successes over his uncle and his father. He has got his +own will of both, and appears to me to forget the sacrifices they have +made for his humour, which he fancies to be for his benefit. But I do +not speak against him, Margaret. I only wish him all that can be good, +for your sake." + +This conversation might have extended much farther but for the entrance +of Laud, who came rather in haste to say that he was sent for by Captain +Bargood to Felixstowe Ferry. He had been into the field with young +Charles Catchpole, and a sailor brought to him an urgent and special +message that he would come to the captain, as he wished to see him upon +very particular business. + +"Margaret," he said, "I must take my leave of you for a short time. I +suspect the captain wants me to go a voyage; but it will not be a long +one. I am assured of good pay, in a share, probably, of his profits, +without having to sustain the risk of loss." + +Whatever present grief Margaret might feel at the departure of her +betrothed, she did not give way to any deep lamentation. She knew that +Laud must work for his living, as well as she for hers, but she did not +despair of success; they were both young, both enjoying health and +strength. Regret she might feel, but Hope was ever the bright beacon of +Margaret's days. She could only express her hope that they might soon +meet again; and as her father and brothers came in from their labour, +Laud shook them all by the hand, told them he was going again to sea, +and wished them "all health and hearty cheer." + +It was with much regret that the old man and his sons found that Laud +must leave them, and their honest nature failed not in expressing every +good wish for a pleasant voyage. Laud turned to the sick-bed upon which +poor Susan lay, and approached to bid her good-bye. He was surprised to +see her in tears, and greatly agitated: so much so, indeed, that the +bed-clothes shook with such a tremulous motion, that they showed the +extent of her agitation. + +"Good-bye, Susan," said Laud, and extended his hand. + +Susan turned her piercing eye upon him, took his warm hand in her cold, +transparent, bloodless fingers, and with great effort spoke to him. + +"William, I want to say a word before you go." Here she paused to take +breath, and every one who loved her crowded round her bed. "I have +observed, William, much in your character that requires alteration, +before you can be either happy yourself or can make my sister so. You +have a lightness of thought, which you do not blush to express, which +appears to me bordering upon infidelity. There is a God, William, Who +observes us all, and knows every secret of our hearts, and in His sight +piety, parental love, and duty, are qualities which meet His +approbation, and the contrary provoke his displeasure. I have observed +with pain that you sometimes speak with levity of those whom you ought +to love. You may not intend to be wicked, but your language, with +respect to the guardians of your youth, is not good. You will forgive +my speaking my mind to you now, as I am sure I shall never see you again +in this world: but if ever we do meet in another and a better world, you +must alter greatly in the sentiments of your heart. We shall never meet +if you do not. You want steadiness of principle and firmness of purpose. +You may lead those who look up to you; but I can see that you may be +very easily led by others, who have only to exercise determination, and +they may tempt you to anything. You want, I repeat it, steadiness of +principle and stability of purpose. I love my dear sister, and I can +foresee that you will make her very unhappy if you do not alter in this +respect. Take what I say in good part, and forget it not. I can only +pray for your welfare. If ever you are unkind to Margaret, you and I +shall never meet in another world. Good-bye, William, good-bye!" + +The effort had been too much for her weak state, and she sank back +exhausted, hiding her tears upon her pillow. + +Youth and health do not dwell long upon the words of sickness, though +love cannot fail to produce a powerful effect for the time. Laud +returned to Felixstowe, leaving our cottagers to lament his departure, +and Margaret to the exercise of those duties to which her nature and +inclination made her then, and ever after, so well adapted--the nursing +of an invalid. Had she not had these duties to perform, she might have +felt more keenly the loss of her lover. She was never of a desponding +disposition. She knew that Laud must work hard; and she hoped that his +love for her would make him prudent and careful, though it might be +years before they both saved a sufficiency to furnish a cottage. + +Her duties to poor Susan became every day more urgent, for every day +seemed to bring her slowly to her end. Her attentions to this sick +sister were of the gentlest and most affectionate kind. Softly, gently, +noiselessly, she made every one go in and out of the apartment. Susan +wished that all whom she knew and loved should pray with her, and her +good mistress frequently came up from the farm to read to her. Oh, how +eagerly does the mind of the sufferer devour the word of God!--the more +humble, the more sweet that precious fruit to the palate of the sick! +How does she desire more and more of the living waters of life, and lift +her eyes to Heaven, and turn them in upon her heart, to see whence her +help might come! + +Poor Susan had been too long a sufferer not to have learned the duties +of patience; she had too humble a spirit to think anything of herself; +but when she thought of her father, mother, brothers, and sister, her +whole soul seemed absorbed in their present and future welfare. + +Oh! what instructive lessons may be learned at the sick-bed! How wise +are the reflections then made upon life and immortality! Could men only +be as wise at all hours, how happy might they be! + +But Susan's hours were numbered, and her end drew nigh. Scarcely three +weeks after the departure of Laud, she was called away; but her end was +so characteristic of piety and love, that, despite of the impatience of +the hasty reader, it must be recorded. On Saturday, the 24th of June, +not long before the family were about to retire to rest, Susan said to +Margaret, "Lift me up, dear, lift me up--I feel myself going." As might +be expected, a word of this sort called them all around her. The poor, +weak, wasted, emaciated girl, with an eye as brilliant as the purest +crystal, and a countenance expressive of the calm spirit within, looked +upon the mother bathing her thin hand with tears, and the affectionate +father and brothers a little more composed, but not less afflicted. +Edward, the youngest, knelt close by her side; whilst the affectionate +Margaret, with her arm and part of her chest supporting the raised +pillow, against which the sufferer leant, held with her left hand the +other transparent one of her dying sister. + +Who shall paint the silver locks of age, and that calm eye, watching the +waning light of a dear daughter's life? "Let us pray," said the dying +girl; "let us pray." Around the bed knelt six of her relatives, and in +deep humility heard Susan's prayer for them all, whilst they could only +answer, with a sob, "God bless you!" + +But now came an effort, which seemed to agitate the sufferer beyond all +former exertions: the clothes around her poor chest seemed to shake with +excess of emotion, as, with a most earnest and impressive look, she half +turned herself round, and uttered the name of her sister. + +"Margaret," she said, "Margaret, you will never marry William Laud--he +will cause you all much sorrow; but do not forsake the right and honest +path, and you will find peace at the last. Margaret, my dear sister, +never suffer him to lead you astray! Promise me, promise me never to be +his, except he marry you amidst your friends." + +"I never will, dear Susan--I never will." + +"Bless you! God bless you all!" And with one look up, as if she would +pierce the skies, she raised both her hands to heaven, and said, "O +blessed Saviour!" and with those words her spirit took its flight to +eternity. + +What a thrill, a holy thrill, ran through the hearts of all, as they +witnessed this solemn but cheerful end of her they so dearly loved! That +night was, indeed, one of serious reflection among them all: they +thought and talked of her, and blessed her, and resolved to follow her +advice, and keep the honest path. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE TEMPTATION + + +Laud reached Felixstowe Ferry: he had seen his parent, and then went to +the shore to meet the captain. There they stand under the cliff, by the +shore, opposite the harbour and town of Harwich, whilst the light gleams +upon the distant beacon of Walton-on-the-Naze. There is a boat a short +distance on the calm wave, and not far ahead a brig is seen standing off +and on. The captain is pointing to the brig, and seems very earnest in +his conversation; whilst a sort of cool composure is settled upon the +firm attitude of Will Laud, as he listens and seems to remain immovable. + +Oh! would that he had so remained! Many an afterpang, which the birth of +that day's sorrow occasioned, would have been spared. + +"Well, Laud, I make you a fair offer," said this artful captain; "I make +you a fair offer of the command of the brig: there she is, as tight a +vessel as ever cut a wave. I will venture to say, that when you helped +to lay her keel with Turner, you little dreamt of commanding on board of +her." + +"I have no objection to the craft, captain; but I do not like the job." + +"No: I suppose you would like to live at home along with the old +ferryman, your father; or, perhaps, knock away at boat-building on the +Alde. Pshaw, Will, pshaw! this is a tame kind of life. I took you for a +fellow of more spirit, or I never should have taken you for my +messmate." + +"When you took me for such, you took me as an honest man, and all your +dealings were above-board. Now you want to make me a smuggler. This is +the work, captain, I do not like. My father is an honest man, and under +Government--why should I bring disgrace upon him?" + +"And does it follow, Will, that I am what you call a smuggler, because I +do a little in a free trade? Where's the disgrace you speak of?--and who +is to bring it upon us? Come, Will, there are two sides of a question, +and we may hit upon the right as well as the wrong." + +"But we shall be cheating the Government of our country." + +"As to that, Will, look from the highest to the lowest, and see if they +do not all do so as long as they can with impunity." + +"I do not see that." + +"No, Will, no; because you shut your eyes. But who pays more tax than he +can help, or as much as is strictly due, either for his horses, +servants, powder, malt, hops, windows, silk, woollen, or any commodity +whatever, upon which a wholesale tax is imposed for the good of the +country? Don't talk, then, of cheating Government. I call mine only a +little free trade; and if I choose to employ a few free hands and pay +them well, what is that to anybody?" + +"You may employ them with more freedom in an honest way, than running +such risk of life, liberty, and property, as you do. I almost as much +grieve that I ever knew you, captain, as I do now at being compelled to +leave your service. I have been obliged to you hitherto, but you want +now to lay me under an obligation to which I have no stomach." + +"This is only since you came to the ferry, and went to the christening. +Go back, my boy, go back and turn ploughman. You will like that better +than ploughing the waves. You will only be, after all, a lubberly +landsman. But I must hail my fellows, and be off. What a pity such a +brig should go a-begging for a captain! Your own work, too, Will. Well, +well, I did not think you such a fool. Here, with a silver spoon in your +mouth, you would throw it away, and take up with a wooden one. Go, eat +your bread sopped in warm water, in a wooden bowl, and leave your old +messmates and friends to good fare, an active life, and cheerful +company. Good-bye, Will; good-bye." + +And the captain turned round to give the signal to his boatmen to pull +to shore; but without the least intention of giving up his prey. It was +only as a cat would pretend to let her victim escape to a little +distance, under the idea of having more play. + +"Go to your girl, boy; go to your girl," said he, as he took a step +toward the beach. "She will be glad to see you without employment, and +sick of the sea for her sake." + +"I'll tell you what, captain, my girl's an honest one, and if you were +to make her a disloyal offer, she would be the first to heave up her +anchor, or cut her cable, and haul to windward and be off." + +"I don't make her any offer; I have nothing to do with any of her sex, +and the less you have to do with them the better, Will. But if you must +have her in your eye, why not for her sake try to get a comfortable +berth for her? In a very short time, you will be able to secure enough +to make her happy. After a few runs, you may have a snug cot, near this +very cove, and be as comfortable as you wish to be. But if you have made +up your mind, and are determined not to accept my offer, why then I must +find another who will; and I warrant, that I need not go far before I +meet with one who will jump at the chance." + +"I say, captain, how many voyages shall I go, before that time comes you +speak of?" + +"That depends upon our luck. The quicker work we make, the sooner we +shall keep our harbour. One year, perhaps two. At all events, three, and +your berth is sure." + +"Well, captain, but how shall it be for share?" + +"Why, there's the brig, and look ye, Will, she's all right and tight, +and everything well provided aboard her. She is under your command; your +first trip to Holland; your cargo, gin; and as to other goods, snuff, +tobacco, linen, and such things, I let you barter with for yourself. +Only secure me the main chance. As to risk, that's all mine. You shall +receive, say one-sixth of the profit for the first year, one-third for +the second; and an equal share after. Now, my boy, but that I know your +pluck, and your tact, I should never make you such an offer. There you +have it." + +"Captain, I'm your man!--I'm your man!" + +And so he sold himself to as artful, desperate, and bold a rover, as +ever crossed the Channel. How true were poor Susan's last words to +him--"You want steadiness of principle and stability of purpose!" From +that hour, Will entered upon a course of life which led to his own ruin, +and the ruin of others. He was caught in the toils of a smuggler, from +which, though he once escaped, he never had sufficient stability to +entirely emancipate himself. + +Captain Bargood, to whom Will thus sold himself, was a clever as well as +a desperate adventurer. He contrived to keep up appearances as a steady +trader, and had vessels as regularly chartered as any of England's +noblest merchants. His sails visited with proper invoices all the ports +along the coast, and he had connexions in every town of the first class +of dealers. Yet this man managed to have withal an under-current in the +contraband trade, which paid him far greater profits than his regular +account. + +So well did he arrange his plans, that if a vessel of his was taken by +the coastguard, he had always a captain or a mate to father her, and as +he always paid them well, his own fair fame was suspected by none but +those who occasionally bought goods of him at a price so far below the +market, that they were content to let their suspicions subside in their +own profits. He was a good judge of men, both of sailors, landsmen, +gentry, and men of business. He knew how far to trust them, and how soon +to shorten his sail. His ships, captains, and crews, were as well known +to him as anything in his own unostentatious cottages at Aldborough, +Hollesley, Harwich, or Ipswich; in which he occasionally took up his +abode, as business or inclination prompted. But he equally well knew +Will Laud, and foresaw in him the very commander who should bring him +in many a good prize in the shape of spirits or tobacco, furs or linen. +He cared for no man's success but his own. He could be rough, smooth, +hot, or cool, just as he thought best to gain his end. Money was his +idol, and, as a quick return and enormous profit for a small outlay, the +smuggler's trade seemed to him the most promising. Laud would, and as +the sequel will show, did prove a valuable servant or slave to him. This +man outlived every one of his captains, and died about four years ago: +namely, in the year 1841. + +But the young sailor is arm-in-arm with the captain, the boat is hailed, +the crew, four oars and a steersman, approach the shore, and the captain +calls out-- + +"Now, Jack, high and dry for your new commander!" + +The boat grounds, and Laud and his future master are seated in the +stern. + +"Long time bringing-to, captain?" said the gruff and surly-looking John +Luff, a fellow who seemed formed of such materials as compose a +cannon-ball. He looked like what he was, an iron-hearted and iron-fisted +desperado, whose only pleasure was to serve a bad man, and to rule every +one in the ship who had a little more feeling than himself. + +They were soon on board the brig, and Laud was duly introduced to the +crew, and appointed their captain. + +"Yes, master, yes," said the mate, "we understand. You need not spin us +a long yarn; business, say I, and the sooner the better. I will take +care of him, trust me. He's a smart boy. He'll do, captain, he'll do." + +The mate, John Luff, and the master, seemed to understand each other. +The captain shook hands with Laud, and bidding him take care of his own +craft, he left them outward bound, and came ashore at Woodbridge Haven. + +Let it suffice, for the reader's information, that Laud was successful +in his new career. He made his voyage pay well, and contrived to send +some handsome presents to Margaret, too handsome to be acceptable. Alas! +how little did that desperate youth think that he was giving pain +instead of pleasure to all those who had any interest in his welfare! +How little did he think he was laying the foundation of misery and woe +to his father, to the Catchpoles, to the Cracknells, and to every one +who knew him! + +His first present was received by Margaret at a time when the heart of a +true lover is most open to the kind acts of friendship. Poor Margaret +and the family had just returned from the funeral of Susan, and were +seated in the cottage, talking over the good qualities of their dear +departed and beloved friend. Her sayings and doings, her affectionate +advice, her patience and resignation, were all topics of conversation, +and each had some kind act to record, not one a single fault to mention. +One or two of the Cracknells, and a workman or two on the farm, who +helped to carry the corpse, were all of the party who were not +relatives. The good mother had prepared the mournful meal, some cake, +bread and butter, a cup of tea, and a pint of beer each for the men. +They were partaking of this humble meal in a very subdued and quiet +spirit, as there came a rap at the door, and young Edward opened it. + +"Come in," said the father, and in walked a weatherbeaten man, who from +his dress might be taken for some honest ploughman, but whose +countenance betrayed a very different expression--none of that openness +and simplicity which good labourers and countrymen wear, but a shaggy +brow, and matted thick black hair. His eyebrows half covered the sockets +of his eyes, which peeped from under them with an inquisitive glance, to +see if all was safe. + +"Does one Margaret Catchpole live here?" said the man. + +"Yes, she does," was Margaret's quick reply; "what do you want with her? +I am she." + +"Oh! you be she, be you? Then I be commissioned to deliver this here +parcel into your hands;" and, easing his shoulder of a heavy bale of +goods, they came with some weight upon the chair which Edward had +vacated for the guest. + +"From whom does this come?" said she. + +"I don't know who he is. I was at work on the marshes at Bawdsey Ferry, +when a young sailor came up to me, and asked me if I knew where Nacton +was. I told him I knew whereabouts it was. He then asked me if I would +take this here bundle to one Margaret Catchpole, a labourer's daughter, +living, as he described, in just this place, which I have found." + +"Did he give his name?" + +"No; he said he couldn't come himself, but that this here would remind +you of him." + +All immediately concluded who he was, and Margaret asked Edward to bring +the packet into the sleeping-room, whilst the countryman was asked to +sit down and take a draught of beer. + +The parcel was unpacked. There were silks and shawls, caps and lace, +ribbons and stuffs, and gloves; parcels of tea, coffee, tobacco, and +snuff; together with curious-headed and silver-tipped pipes; in short, +enough to stock a small shop. But there was nothing to give pleasure to +Margaret. That poor girl's heart sank within her at a sight which she at +once perceived was far too costly to be honestly procured. She called to +Edward to assist her in tying up the bale again, and removing it into +the room where the pretended countryman was seated. As she entered, the +fellow roughly accosted her-- + +"Well! you find summut there, I dare say, to tempt you soon to put aside +these dark-looking dresses which you all wear. I must be going: can I +take anything back for you?" + +"Yes," said Margaret--"yes; you may take the whole bundle back the same +way you brought it, and tell the young man who gave it you that I should +have valued one single pair of honestly purchased gloves more than all +the valuables he has sent me." + +There was a twinkle of that small grey eye, and a twitch of the muscles +of that sun-burnt face, which showed that even the hardy, rough-looking +countryman was startled at such an honest spirit as then addressed him. +This person was none other than John Luff, the mate of the _Alde_, who +had undertaken to perform this duty for Captain Laud, from a motive, +without much love in it, simply because he feared that the captain might +be persuaded by his girl to leave off a smuggler's life. He saw in an +instant that such would have been the case, had young Laud come with +him, or brought the load himself. He had assumed the countryman's dress +to avoid any notice from the coastguard, and, until he came to the lane +leading to the farm, he had brought the bale of goods in a sack slung +over his shoulder, as if it were corn, or chaff, or flour. He was not +very easily put out, nor long in giving his answer. + +"No, young woman, I have had lug enough to bring it here, and I got a +crown for my job; mayhap, if I were to take it back to the youngster, I +might lose half my crown, and so be paid for my trouble. I'm not fond of +broken heads for a love-ditty. You may find some one else to take it +back: I've done my duty." + +"No, you have not," said Margaret; "you are no landsman, I am sure: your +duty is not that of an honest labourer. You are--I am sure you +are--connected with the smugglers on the coast. You may take this parcel +for yourself. I give it to you, to do what you like with; but do tell +the young man, when you see him, that I hate his presents, though not +himself." + +"I won't have anything to do with what's not my own," said the man, +"although you tell me I'm not an honest man. I'm off. I was to meet the +young chap again to-morrow at the same time and place. If you had any +small love-token now, or any words which might not anger the young +fellow, why, I shouldn't mind taking 'em; but if you haven't any, why +then I'll tell him you didn't care anything about him or his present. So +good-bye to you." + +The fellow took up his hat and stick to depart. + +"Hold!" said Margaret--"hold!" and taking her father's hat down from its +peg, she tore off the crape, and folding it up, she approached the +disguised seaman, saying--"Give him this--do give him this--and tell +him, I'd rather we all wore the like for him, than the rich things he +has sent us. Will you tell him this?" + +"No doubt he'll be much obliged to you: but you won't be long in this +mind. So, good-bye to you all." And the man departed, leaving that +spirited girl to think with pain of the dreaded words of +Susan--"Margaret, you will never marry William Laud!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +MISFORTUNES + + +Well would it have been for the Catchpoles and the Cracknells, had they +burnt every bit of valuable stuff which the smuggler had that day +brought. What years of anguish would it have spared them!--what +miseries! what agonies! Nothing unlawful can long prosper. Sorrow and +bitterness follow the days of unjust gain, and whosoever thinks to be +happy by the sudden influx of ill-gotten wealth, will find himself +grievously mistaken. Wealth gotten by honest industry and fair dealing +may enable a good man to soothe the sufferings of others, but even when +obtained, men find that it is not the being rich, but the regular +employment in a prosperous line of life, that gives the pleasure. Sudden +prosperity is too often destructive of a man's peace of mind; but sudden +prosperity, by evil means, is sure to bring its own ruin. Had but that +first bale of goods been burnt, Margaret might have continued the happy, +cheerful child of Nature, respected and received as the honest, +good-hearted girl she really was. + +It may fairly be said of Margaret, that she had no covetous hankering +after any of the goods which were that day presented to her eye. She +told all her friends what they were, and consulted with them what should +be done with them. She would have given them up to the government +officers, but she saw that it would involve her lover. She would have +sent them to Laud's father, but again the idea of causing him distress +deterred her. Oh! that she had cast them upon the broad sea, and let who +would have caught them! But they were goodly things to look upon; they +were costly--too good to throw away. And as Mrs. Cracknell said they +might all be serviceable, and it was a sin to waste them, she persuaded +Margaret to let her have them. + +"Let my good man take them home; we may by degrees get rid of them. I +can do the smaller packages up in smaller parcels, in my way; and as to +the silks and lace, I can find perhaps a distant customer to take them +off my hands." + +"You may do what you like with them," said Margaret, "only do not let me +know anything more about them." + +"You know, Mr. Catchpole," said Mrs. Cracknell, "that we may all want a +little help one day, and these things may provide against a stormy hour. +At all events, you shall lose nothing by them, though they now bring you +no profit." + +It did not take much time to persuade these simple-minded people to part +with things for which they had no demand and no taste. + +Mrs. Cracknell had them conveyed to her cottage, where she had them +sorted out, and, as prudently as possible, disposed of them according to +the means of her humbler customers. + +After a time, she found herself gradually improving in circumstances, +and, had she been content, might have gone on improving for years. Her +profits were too rapid, however, not to excite a stronger mind than she +possessed. She made, of course, handsome presents to the young +Catchpoles, and Margaret had the mortification of seeing a smart pipe, +and of smelling the fumes of rich tobacco, even in her own cottage, well +knowing they were the fruits of her lover's misdoings. + +Meantime, that lover's name began to be notorious along the coast. +Margaret heard no good of him. The coastguard had set a mark upon him, +and it became known throughout the country that Will Laud was the +ringleader of as desperate a gang as ever infested the shores of Great +Britain. + +So frequent were the inroads made at this period upon the commerce of +the country, that government had to employ a very active force to stay, +though she could not put down, so discreditable a feature upon her +coasts. + +At this time the shores of Norfolk and Suffolk were most conspicuous for +contraband trade. Severe and deadly were the continual actions between +the preventive-service men and the smugglers; lives were continually +lost on both sides; and dreadful animosities sprang up between the +parties upon the sea-shore. + +Will Laud and his associates had great luck; and Captain Bargood found +in him as bold and profitable a fellow as he could wish. Many were the +hairbreadth escapes, however, which he, in conjunction with his crew, +experienced. Laud was a tool in the hands of his mate, though he himself +was not aware of it; for whilst that fellow had his own way, he always +managed to get it through the medium of the captain's permission. He +would, in his bluff way, suggest, with all becoming subordination, such +and such a scheme, and generally succeeded in the enterprise. + +They had observed for a long time a scout upon the beach under Bawdsey +Cliffs, and knew that he was one of the Irish cruisers, who had been +transplanted to watch their craft: Laud proposed to nab him when he +could. He had been ashore one day to meet his employer, and had met this +merry-hearted Irishman at the Sun Inn, in a street of that long, sandy +village of Bawdsey. Pat was a loquacious, whisky-loving, light-hearted +fellow, who, without fear, and with ready wit, made himself agreeable +to everybody. He frequented the various inns along the border, and was +generally liked for his dash of gallantry, his love of drinking, and his +generous spirit; he was a brave fellow, too, and watchful for his +honour. He had seen along the beach a man roaming about, and had +concealed himself, not far from the fisherman's cottage, on purpose to +watch him; but all he could make out was, that the man went to the back +of the cottage, and there he lost him. Pat went to the fisherman's cot, +found the man and his wife at their meals, searched about the premises, +but could spy nothing. Pat had seen this thing several times, and was +fully convinced that the man he saw was a smuggler. + +In Bawdsey Cliff the smugglers had a cave of no small dimensions. It had +formerly been a hollow ravine in the earth, formed by the whirling of a +stream of water, which had passed quickly through a gravelly bed, and +met with opposition in this mass of clay. It had made for itself a large +crater, and then had issued again at the same place, and ran through a +sand-gall and gravelly passage down to the sea. This was discovered by a +tenant of the Earl of Dysart, who, in sinking a well near his shepherd's +cottage, suddenly struck into the opening of this cave. As the springs +were low at this season, the cave was almost empty of water, and formed +a most curious appearance. It was even then called the Robbers' Cave, +and curiosity was greatly excited in the country to visit it. It was so +smoothly and regularly formed by the eddies of the whirlpool, that the +nicest art could not have made it so uniform. The proprietor sank his +well some feet lower, until he came to a good stream; but in making the +well, he formed an archway into this curious place, and left it so for +the gratification of public curiosity. Time swept on, and the cave +became less frequented, and at last forgotten. + +A few years, however, previously to this narration, some smugglers had +been disappointed of their run, and had thrown their tubs down the well, +with the consent of their agent the fisherman, probably a descendant of +the old shepherd's, who dwelt in the cottage. This led to the +re-discovery and improvement of this famous depot of arms, ammunition, +stock-in-trade, and place of retreat, which was then occupied by Will +Laud and his associates, and to which very spot John Luff was at that +time bound. + +These men had contrived to make the cave as comfortable a berth as a +subterraneous place could be. They had ingeniously tapped the land +stream below the cave, and laid it perfectly dry, and with much labour +and ingenuity had contrived to perforate the clay into the very chimney +of the cottage; so that a current of air passed through the archway +directly up the chimney, and carried away the smoke, without the least +suspicion being awakened. This place was furnished with tables, mats, +stools, and every requisite for a place of retreat and rendezvous. The +descent was by a bucket well-rope, which a sailor well knew how to +handle; whilst the bucket itself served to convey provisions or goods of +any kind. + +Such was the place into which vanished the choice spirits which poor Pat +had seen, and into which Pat himself, _nolens_, _volens_, was shortly to +be introduced. It would be needless to add, that the fisherman and his +wife were accomplices of the smugglers. + +Some short time after, Pat had an opportunity of discovering the use of +the well as an inlet and outlet of the smugglers, and conceived the idea +that contraband goods were stowed away at the bottom of it. He had seen +a man, after talking to the woman at the spot, descend, and then come up +again, and depart. + +"Now's my turn," says Pat to himself, as he came out from his +hiding-place, and went to the well. As every sailor could let himself +down by a rope, and ascend by it likewise, Pat was soon at the bottom of +the well, but found nothing. He began his ascent, working away with his +hands and feet in a manner which a sailor only understands. He was +gaining more daylight, and hoping that he should get out before the +woman (whom he concluded had gone for help) should return. He had gained +the very part where the archway into the cave was formed, and there +found a sort of stay, or bar, at the opposite side, to rest his leg +upon. He was taking advantage of this post to get breath, and had just +swung off again to ascend, when he felt his ankles grasped by a powerful +pair of pincers, as it seemed, and in another instant such a jerk as +compelled him instantly to let go the rope, and he came with all his +weight against the side of the well. Stunned he was, but not a bone was +broken, for his tormentors had taken the precaution to have a +well-stuffed hammock ready to break his fall. He was in a moment in the +cave, and when reviving, heard such a burst of unearthly merriment, he +could think of nothing but that he had arrived at that dreaded +purgatory, to escape which he had paid so much to his priest. + +In a faint, feeble voice, Pat was heard to exclaim--"O, Father O'Gharty; +O, Father O'Gharty, deliver me!" + +This caused such another burst, and such a roar of "O, Father O'Gharty! +O, Father O'Gharty!" from so many voices, that the poor fellow groaned +aloud. But a voice, which he fancied he had heard when on earth, +addressed him, as he lay with his eyes just opening to a red glare of +burning torches. + +"Patrick O'Brien! Patrick O'Brien! welcome to the shades below." + +Pat blinked a little, and opened his eyes wider, and saw, as he thought, +twenty or thirty ghosts of smugglers, whom he supposed had been shot by +the coastguard, and were answering for their sins in purgatory. + +"Come, Pat, take a drop of moonshine, my hearty, to qualify the water +you have taken into your stomach: this liquid flame will warm the cold +draught." + +Pat had need of something to warm him, but had no idea of drinking +flame. + +"I hope," he said, "your majesty will excuse a poor Irishman." + +"No excuse! no excuse! By the saint, your namesake, you shall swallow +this gill, or maybe you'll have a little more water to simmer in." + +Pat made no further opposition; and one of the uncouth, black-bearded +demons, handed him a cup of as bright, shining liquid as any which the +sons of whisky ever saw. + +"Drink, Pat, drink," said the fellow; "a short life and a merry one." + +"Och!" sighed Pat, and the next moment the burning liquid ran down his +throat, warming his inside with such a glow, as made the blood circulate +rapidly through every vein of his body. Whether it was the pure gin he +had drunk, or the naturally aspiring disposition of the man, he began to +look around him, and to note the habitation in which they dwelt. Pikes +and guns were slung here and there; cables and casks lay about the room; +swords and pistols--weapons which seemed more adapted to fleshly men +than disembodied spirits--made the reviving spirit of this son of the +Emerald Isle bethink him that he had fallen into the hands of mortals. +He now looked a little more wise, and began to give a good guess at the +truth, when the one who seemed to be the captain of the band soon +dissipated all his doubts by saying, "Patrick O'Brien, here's to +Lieutenant Barry and the preventive service. Come, Pat, drink to your +commander, 'tis the last time you will ever be in such good company." + +These words convinced him that he was in the smugglers' cave; and as he +knew them to be most desperate fellows, his own lot did not appear much +more happy than when he thought himself in the company of evil spirits. + +"Come, Pat, drink. You need a little comfort." + +Pat drank, and though he foresaw that no good could come to him, yet as +the spirit poured in, and his heart grew warm, he thought he would not +seem afraid, so he drank "Success to Lieutenant Barry and the +coastguard!" + +"Now, Pat, one more glass, and we part for ever." + +Ominous words--"part for ever!" He heartily wished himself again in his +own dear island, ere he had ventured a peep at the bottom of the well. +The smugglers--for such he found they were--grinned upon him most +unceremoniously, as if they had some horrid purpose in view, and seemed +to enjoy the natural timidity which began to creep over his frame. + +Pat drank his last glass: John Luff arose, commanded silence, and, in as +gentle a voice as such a fellow could assume, said, "Mr. Patrick +O'Brien, you are welcome now to your choice of departure." + +"Thank ye, gemmen, thank ye, and I shall not forget your hospitality." + +Pat rose, as if to depart. + +"Mr. Patrick O'Brien, the choice of departure we give you is the choice +of death!" + +Pat's heart sank within him, but he did not lose all his courage or +presence of mind; and the latter quality suggested to him that he would +try a little blarney. + +"Why, gemmen, you wouldn't kill a poor fellow in cold blood, would you?" + +"No, Pat, no; and for that reason we have made you welcome to a drop, +that you may not die a cold-blooded death. Draw swords!" + +In an instant twenty sharp blades were unsheathed. + +"Now, Mr. O'Brien, take your choice: shall every man have a cut at +you--first a leg, then a hand, then an arm, and so on, until your head +only shall remain--or will you be rolled up in a hammock for a sack, as +your winding-sheet, and, well shotted, sink as a sailor to the bottom of +those waters we have just quitted?" + +"Thank your honour," said the poor victim of their cruelty, "thank your +honour; and of the two I had rather have neither." + +There was no smile upon any of the ferocious countenances around him, +and Pat's hopes of anything but cruelty forsook him. Just at this moment +the bucket descended the well, and in came Will Laud, or Captain Laud, +as he was called, who, acquainted with the fact of the Irishman's +descent (for he was the very person whom Pat had seen to make his exit, +and had been informed by the woman of his being drowned), was a little +relieved to see the man standing in the midst of his men unscathed. + +He soon understood the position in which he was placed, and, after a few +words with his Lieutenant, John Luff, himself repeated the already +determined sentence of his crew. + +So calm was his voice, so fixed his manner, that the bold Irishman +perceived at once that his doom was at hand. Assuming, therefore, his +wonted courage, making up his mind to death, he looked the commander in +the face, and with the composure of a mind comparatively at ease, said-- + +"Since I must die, let me die dacently. My choice is made--the hammock +for my winding-sheet, the water for my grave, and God forgive you all." + +Not a word more did the brave fellow utter, but stood like a hero, or a +martyr, ready for execution. + +Now to the credit of Laud be it recorded, that in his soul he admired +the intrepidity of the man's spirit; and murder, base murder of a bold +man, never was his intention. + +He whispered to his mate, though in a moment after he exclaimed to his +crew, "Do your duty." + +Pat was tripped up, rolled up in the hammock, swung upon the chain, +heard the whistle, and in an instant found himself, as he thought, +descending to the shades below. In fact, however, he was ascending, +though consciousness for a time forsook him, and the swoon of +anticipated suffocation bereft him of his senses. When he did recover, +he found himself at the bottom of a boat, bounding over the billows, and +was soon on board a ship. Here he revived, and was treated by the crew +with kindness; but after many days he was put ashore on the eastern +coast of his own dear isle, with this gentle admonition:-- + +"Patrick O'Brien, 'all's well that ends well.' Let well alone for the +future, and now farewell." + +So ended this spree, which may serve to show the mind and habits of +those men with whom Will Laud had to deal. + +At times these desperate men would be mutinous, but their common +interest kept them together. The persons of several were known along the +coast, and farmers found it to their interest to wink at their +peccadilloes. + +It was no uncommon thing for them to have their horses taken out of the +fields, or even out of their stables, for a run at night; but they were +sure of a handsome present being left upon their premises--casks of gin, +real Hollands, packets of linen; and, sometimes learning the thing most +wanted by a particular farmer, he would be surprised to find it directed +to him by an unknown hand, and delivered, without charge, at his door. + +The handsomest saddles and bridles which could be procured, whips, +lamps, lanterns, handsome pairs of candlesticks, guns, pistols, +walking-sticks, pipes, &c., were, at various houses, left as presents. +Such was the state of the traffic, that the best spirits could be always +had at the farm-houses on the coast (for all knew where it might be had +without difficulty), only let the money be left for it with the order. +In this manner was the revenue defrauded; and there were men in high +authority who used to defend the practice by calling it England's best +nursery for seamen. Seldom, however, were good men secured from these +sources. The generality of smugglers were not such as England wanted to +defend her liberty and laws. + +About this time so many presents were sent to Margaret, and left in such +a clandestine manner at or near the cottage, that although she herself +was never corrupted by any one of these temptations, yet the effects of +them began to show themselves in her family. Charles, the elder brother, +used to find the presents, and dispose of them to Mrs. Cracknell, and he +found his own gains so rapidly increase that he began to be idle; would +not go to plough; disliked working on the land; took to carpentering at +the old sexton's at Nacton; learned to read and write; and again +encouraged his old _penchant_ for soldiering. At length he left his +parents and friends, and enlisted in the 33rd regiment of foot, under +the fictitious name of Jacob Dedham, at the Black Horse public-house, +St. Mary Elm's, Ipswich. He passed himself off as belonging to that +parish; and but for the accidental circumstance of a Nacton lad, of the +name of Calthorpe, seeing him at the inn, his friends and relatives +would have been ignorant of his departure. His regiment soon after his +enlistment sailed for the East Indies; and the history of Charles +Catchpole, alias Jacob Dedham, would of itself form no uninteresting +narrative. He rose in his regiment by great steadiness and assiduity. He +became a singular adept at learning Eastern languages and customs. He +was taken great notice of by Sir William Jones, the great Oriental +linguist, who recommended him to a very important charge under Lord +Cornwallis, who employed him in a confidential duty, as a spy, upon the +frontiers of Persia. We shall have occasion to contemplate him in a +future part of this history. For the present we pass on to some further +fruits of the smuggler's intimacy with the Catchpoles. + +Robert, another son, in consequence of the unwholesome introduction of +rapid profits, took to drinking, smoking, and idle company, and very +soon brought himself to an early grave; giving the deepest pangs to his +parents, and creating sorrow and suffering to all. He died of delirium +tremens, in the year 1791. + +James became a poacher, and was shot in a desperate affray with the +gamekeepers of Admiral Vernon. He lingered on his brother's bed until +December 15th, 1792, and expired in deep distress, and with a +declaration to poor Margaret, that it was her acquaintance with Laud +that brought him to ruin. The youngest son alone preserved any steady +fixed principles, and was the prop of his parents' hopes. + +The whole family now fell into disrepute, and the bitterest days of +adversity followed. Tales began to be circulated of Margaret's +connexion with the smuggler. Sailors were seen to come and go from the +cottage; and if they went but to ask for information, the lying tongue +of slander was sure to propagate some infamous story. It was true that +presents were left about the cottage, and that agents of the Cracknells +were ready to receive them; but Margaret never touched a single thing +that was so found. She was not insensible to all she saw, and she felt +the full weight of Laud's misconduct; but she never forgot to pray for +him, and hoped, with that fondness which true love only can know, that +he would one day be converted. But she partook of the ignominy which now +visited her family, though she assuredly did not deserve it. She +recommended her father to take another cottage, and even to seek work +under another master. Anything she considered would be better than a +place where he met with such continual misfortunes. + +It must not be supposed that Mrs. Denton was unkind to Margaret, though +her own servants took every opportunity to persuade her that she was a +very worthless person--she seemed to think a removal would be best. +Accordingly Jonathan Catchpole changed his abode, and, from a regular +workman on that farm, became a jobbing labourer wherever he could find +employment. He and his family lived at a lone cottage on the borders of +Nacton Heath. Edward became a shepherd's boy, and Margaret had serious +thoughts of once more going out to service; but where? Alas! she +remembered how happy she had been in her first place, and the very +remembrance of that happiness made her shrink from having to relate to +her former benefactor the then miserable consequences of her first +attachment. + +Laud's father shared in the general stigma attached to his son's +name--he was accused of conniving at the youth's excesses, and lost his +situation as ferryman of the government packets from Harwich to Languard +Fort. What miseries, heaped one upon the other, now fell with blighting +force upon poor Margaret! + +But a greater trial just now awaited her--a dreadful conflict took place +below Felixstowe beach between the coastguard and Laud's crew. A run was +planned and put in execution from the Walton Marshes for +Woodbridge--carts were brought to the cliff, the coastguard, as was +thought, being attracted to Sizewell Gap, and everything being open +before the smugglers. The cargo was landed, and the run began, when the +preventive-service men, who had been secretly informed of the intended +_ruse_ at Sizewell Gap, came out of their hiding-place in a double band, +headed by Lieutenant Edward Barry, a brave young sailor, second son of +Mr. Henry Barry, a miller and farmer, of Levington Hill. The onset was +tremendous, and the resistance deadly; but might and right were on one +side, and bore down the stalwart forms of the violent smugglers. + +Three of the crew were killed, and the others, unable to stand against +the assault, fled as well as they were able. Young Barry and Laud had a +severe personal encounter, in which the death of one or the other seemed +the determination of both. Laud was the most powerful man, but Barry was +the most expert swordsman; but what was the experience of the sword-arm +in so dark a night? The two commanders seemed to know each other even in +the darkness, for they fought with voices of encouragement to their men. +The smugglers had fled, and Laud began to fear he was alone; but the +pursuers, too, had gone, and still the two captains were contending. At +this moment the contest was most deadly--Laud had wounded young Barry by +a thrust. Though it was slight it was felt by the officer, and he +determined neither to ask nor to give quarter. Laud had driven him up +the side of a bank, and was in the act of giving a thrust at his heart, +as Barry, with the advantage of his situation, like lightning gave a cut +at his head, which at once went through his hat, and descended upon his +forehead. Down fell the smuggler like a thunderbolt, and another moment +the sword would have been buried in his side, had not Barry been +compelled to act on the defensive by the opposition of John Luff. + +Finding a new antagonist, and being himself wounded, this young man +thought best to gather up his strength for a defensive retreat. He was +not pursued. Hearing some of his own men he called to them, and, +recognizing him, they advanced with him to the spot where, as Barry +supposed, Captain Laud lay dead. But Luff had thrown him over his +shoulder, and, being well acquainted with the marshes, had carried him +over some planks, and so escaped. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +DECEIT + + +Margaret was seated in her father's cottage, now no longer that happy +spot it used to be to her, but a change of abode had brought no rest +from the troubles and anxieties of her mind: that very day she had heard +of the dreadful encounter between the coastguard and the smugglers, and +the report of the death of Will Laud, the notorious commander. + +Margaret heard of her lover's death, as may be supposed, with the +deepest emotion; but she was not satisfied that the accounts she +received were correct, and had serious intentions of going to the +ferryman's house to make inquiries for herself, when a rap came at their +lone door, and who should come in but the ferryman himself, the father +of Laud. The old man seemed to observe the altered state of the family +upon whom he intruded himself, and could not help saying, at once,-- + +"I bring you bad news, Margaret, very bad, and of my poor boy." The old +man paused, and Margaret's heart quailed, but in the next moment it +revived. "But he would have me bring it!" + +"Is he not dead then?" exclaimed the poor girl, as with a bound, she +seized the aged ferryman by the arm; "is he not dead?" + +"No, not yet--at least he was not when I left him two hours ago, and he +would make me come to you, and tell you he wished earnestly to see you +before he died." + +"Where is he? where is he?" exclaimed Margaret. + +"At my poor cot on Walton Cliff; but oh, Margaret, so altered, so +dreadfully marked, and so unhappy, that if you do see him I question +much if you will know him. But will you come and see him?" + +"Will I?--that I will! Only you sit down and eat a bit, and I will soon +be ready." + +It took but a short space of time for Margaret to make preparation for +her journey. Laud was alive, though ill, dangerously ill; still she +might be the means of restoring him, if not to health of body, at least +to a more healthy state of mind. She is ready, and the old man and +Margaret depart together. + +"Is he much hurt?" was Margaret's first question, after they had +advanced beyond the heath on to the high-road; "is he much wounded?" + +"I fear he is. At times he is like a madman, raving at everything, +cursing all smugglers and his own misfortunes. The fever is high upon +him; he glares wildly at the old woman I have got to do for him--calls +her a smuggler's hag; and then he mentions you, Margaret, and the tears +roll down his face, and he finds relief. His wound is on the forehead--a +deep gash, through the bone; and the pain he suffers from the dressing +is dreadful." + +"Have you had a surgeon?" + +"No, Margaret, no--I dare not: I fear lest he should betray himself. His +life would be forfeit to his country's outraged laws, and he would die a +more bitter death than now awaits him in my cot." + +There ran a sensitive shudder through poor Margaret's frame as she +thought of the situation of her lover. Parental affection had been more +cautious than she would have been, and she secretly rejoiced. She +thought likewise of her own situation; but selfishness had no portion in +her soul. Laud might die! The thought was agonizing; but he would die, +perhaps, a true penitent. This was surely better than being suddenly +sent out of the world with all his sins upon his head. She felt thankful +for so much mercy. + +"Does he ever seem sorry for his crimes?" she inquired of the old man. + +"I cannot exactly say he does," was the reply, "though he speaks so +vehemently against his captain. I wish he saw his situation in a more +forcible light." + +"Time may be given him for that yet, Mr. Laud; at least, I pray God it +may be so." + +"Amen, say I; amen!" + +"How did he find you out? How did he reach home?" + +"He was brought here upon a comrade's back, a stout sailor, who came +accompanied by old Dame Mitchel, who, if report speaks truth, is well +acquainted with the smugglers. She says that John Luff, the captain's +mate, brought poor Will to her house; and when he learned that I was +living only half a mile off, he persuaded her to come and help me to do +for him. He brought him to me at night." + +With conversation of this kind, the father and the maiden pursued their +course till they arrived at a very sequestered cottage, near the ruins +of Walton Castle, close to that celebrated spot where the Earl of +Leicester landed with his Flemings in A.D. 1173. "It stood upon a high +cliff, about the distance of a mile from the mouth of the Woodbridge +haven, two miles from the Orwell. At this time but few stones mark the +spot. There is little doubt that it was a Roman fortification, as a +great many urns, rings, coins, and torques, have been found in that +neighbourhood. It is supposed to have been built by Constantine the +Great when he withdrew his legions from the frontier towns in the east +of Britain, and built forts or castles to supply the want of them." So +says the old _Suffolk Traveller_. + +Our travellers arrived at this lone cottage, where a faint, glimmering +light from the low window told that the watch was still kept at the sick +man's bed. The father entered first, and soon returned, telling Margaret +that she might come in, as sleep, for the first time since the night he +had been brought home, had overpowered Laud's senses. + +By the faint gleam of that miserable light, Margaret perceived how +dreadfully altered were the features of her lover. He lay in a heavy, +hard-breathing, lethargic sleep, and the convulsive movements of his +limbs, and a restless changing of the position of his arms, told that, +however weary the body, the spirit was in a very agitated state; and, +oh! how deadly, how livid was his countenance! Scarcely could Margaret +think it the same she had been accustomed to look upon with so much +pleasure: the brow was distorted with pain, the lips scorched with +fever--a stiff white moisture exuded from his closed eyelids. A painful +moan escaped his heaving chest, and at last he surprised the listeners +by a sudden painful cry. + +"Margaret, ahoy! Margaret, ahoy! Hullo! hullo! Don't run away. Here, +here! I want you!" + +And then his limbs moved, just as if he was in the act of running after +some one. + +The fever was evidently high upon him, and poor Margaret was herself +greatly afflicted at seeing his extreme suffering. She gave way to +tears, which affected the poor father so much that the old man could not +refrain from weeping. The woman alone seemed composed; as if she had +been accustomed to scenes of horror, she exhibited no signs of +tenderness or concern. She continued to mumble a piece of brown bread +which she held in her hand, lifting up her brows from time to time, and +darting her sharp grey eyes, first at the smuggler, then at the girl, +and then at the old man, but without uttering or seeming to hear a word, +or to feel a single human emotion. + +As she looked upon her, a thought shot through Margaret's brain of no +very friendly nature toward the singular being before her--she could not +help thinking that this Moggy Mitchel was a sort of spy upon her lover. +How keen, how quick, how apprehensive is true love! + +To prove that Margaret's suspicion was not altogether groundless, that +very night the old woman went out of the house, under pretence of seeing +what sort of night it was; and as Margaret sat watching by the bedside +of Laud, the moon, which was just rising above the summit of the cliff, +showed her, through the lattice, two dark figures standing together. She +could not, of course, distinguish their features, but the outlines of +their forms were very strong, and not to be mistaken--she was sure it +was John Luff and Dame Mitchel, and that they were in close conversation +on the verge of the cliff. + +The old woman shortly returned to the room, and it was evident to +Margaret that something had excited her. + +"We must get him well as soon as we can," were the first words she +uttered; and had not her former coolness and her late meeting upon the +cliff awakened in Margaret's mind some sinister motive prompting this +speech, she might have been deceived by it. + +Margaret had the deepest and purest motives for desiring the young man's +restoration to health: she loved him, and she hoped to re-establish his +character, and to recover him not only from his sick-bed, but from his +state of degradation. But in all her efforts she found herself +frustrated by the interference of this beldame, who, as William +progressed towards recovery, was constantly keeping alive within him +some reports of the successes of the crew, of their kind inquiries after +his health, and the hopes they had of soon seeing him among them. +Independently of this, there came presents and compliments from Captain +Bargood, and these increased as Laud recovered. + +Nothing so much stung Margaret's heart as to find that all her +attentions, prayers, entreaties, and admonitions, were counteracted by +the secret influences of these agencies; but her object was a righteous +one, and she did not slacken in her endeavours to attain it. She found, +as Laud gradually recovered, that he was fully sensible of his past +folly, and quite alive to the devoted affection she had shown to him; +but she found also that no touch of religious feeling blended with his +regret for his past conduct. + +This gave her the deepest pang, for she would rather have heard him +offer one thanksgiving to the Being to whom all thanks are due, than +find herself the object of his praise and gratitude. + +It was at this time that Margaret wished she had been a scholar. There +was a Bible in the cottage, an old black-letter edition, containing the +Book of Common Prayer, the genealogies recorded in the sacred +Scriptures, together with the Psalms of David, in metre, by Sternhold +and Hopkins, with curious old diamond-headed notes of the tunes to each +psalm. + +Margaret would gladly have read the holy book to her lover, but she +might as well have had a Hebrew edition before her, for not a word could +she decipher. He could read, and her only way of inducing him so to do +was by expressing her desire to hear him read. She found this, however, +a difficult and dangerous task, for, independently of the distaste which +the old woman had to the Bible, she found her lover very restless and +feverish after any exertion of the kind. Where the spirit is unwilling, +how irksome is the task! + +"How plain is that description you read to me this morning of our first +parents' fall," said Margaret one day, when the enemy was absent: "how +plainly it shows us the necessity of our denying ourselves anything and +everything which God has forbidden us!" + +"It does, indeed, Margaret; but no man can help sinning!" + +"I doubt that--I think Adam could have done so." + +"Then why did he sin, Margaret?" + +"You read to me, that the woman tempted him or persuaded him, and that +the serpent beguiled her into sin: so that the serpent was the author of +sin." + +"Yes: and the woman was first deceived, and then deceived her husband. +You must admit that she was the worst of the two." + +"I own that she was, and is the weakest; but her sorrows appear to have +been the greater, and she has been little better than a slave to man +ever since." + +"Well, Margaret, well, you have been very kind to me, and I know now +that you are a good girl, and wish me to be good. I wish I may be +better." + +"Do not only wish it, dear William, but pray to God to make you so, and +I do think that He will." + +"Well, well, I will be better--yes, I will, if I get over this blow on +the head; but oh, how it aches! You must not bewilder me too much." + +So did this interesting conversation cease, by the man's appeal to his +want of strength, when he was asserting a will of his own, which, though +bold in words, was but fickle in actions. + +Every day, as her patient advanced towards recovery, was poor Margaret +more and more convinced that Laud wanted stability of purpose to resist +evil,--he was, like every passionate man, self-willed and wicked. +Margaret, though at this time uneducated, had been a very attentive +listener to all good instruction--she was far from being ignorant of +right and wrong. Her principles were good, and through her most eventful +years she exhibited but one great error, which was her blind passion for +the unhappy man whom she would have made, if she could, a better being; +and every day she found a more persevering enemy in Mrs. Mitchel, who +counteracted all her salutary influence with Laud. Silent and morose as +this woman was at times, she could be loquacious enough when it suited +her own purpose. + +"I have," said she, one day, "just left a choice set of fellows upon the +beach, as merry a set, Will, as I ever saw, and all rejoicing in your +improvement. Luff holds your office until you join them again. They +have had fine success lately, since young Barry is laid by the leg. I +have brought you a box of raisins, and such a choice can of sweetmeats, +as a present from the captain." + +"Ah! they are all good fellows, but I do not think that I shall ever +join them again." + +"Pshaw, my lad! this is only a love-fit for the moment." (Margaret was +absent upon an errand.) "If that girl does not know what it is to have a +high-spirited young fellow like yourself for a lover, without making him +a poor, tame, milk-and-water poodle, why then she ought to make herself +always as scarce as she is at this moment. I have no patience with the +girl--she does not know her own interest. I suppose she would have you +stick to the plough's tail, or toil all day at the spade, and bring her +home a hard-earned pittance at the week's-end. Pshaw! Will, you are +formed for better things." + +"But she's a good girl, Moggy," said Will. + +"Oh, aye! the girl is well enough, and decent too. I don't mean to say +she would not make a chap a good sort of wife either, but she's not the +sort of girl for you, Will. She's no spirit about her. She don't see how +a young fellow like you can do better by her, in a bold, dashing way, +than by such tame, dull, plodding industry as her family use." + +"No; but then she wishes to see me happy, and I might be popped off the +next skirmish." + +"You always look on the black side of things. Here are your fellows +making their fortunes rapidly, and you talking of drudging on, in a +quiet, stupid way, with the chance of being informed against and +executed for your past doings. Young Barry won't easily forgive you." + +"Nor I him, either," was the significant reply, with a clenching of the +fist and a grinding of the teeth, which proved how artfully the hag had +worked upon Laud's worst feelings. + +Margaret, on her return, could perceive that her absence had been taken +advantage of to effect a purpose adverse to all her hopes. + +Against all these disadvantages, however, Margaret combated with some +success, and by degrees had the happiness of seeing her patient get the +better of his sufferings. The wound would have healed sooner and better, +had Laud's mind been kept free from feverish excitement. It did heal up, +though not so well as Margaret wished--a frightful scar extended over +the _os frontis_, directly to the high cheek-bone. For a long time the +eye seemed as if it had perished, but as the fever abated its sight +returned. + +It will be sufficient to record, that in due time Laud perfectly +recovered, and the services of his nurses became no longer necessary. + +If at this time any situation had offered itself by which Laud could +have gained an honest livelihood, he would, probably, have accepted it, +and become an honest man; and in talking with Margaret of his future +life, he promised that she should never again hear of anything against +him. He would go to sea, and earn an honest livelihood, even if he was +obliged to serve a foreigner. + +"Well, Laud, I will trust you again," said Margaret, on the day she took +her leave of him: "I will trust you again, William, though my heart +aches bitterly at parting with you, whilst you have no regular +employment, but I shall pray for you wherever I am. I shall probably go +to service soon, for I do not like to be a burden to my friends." + +They parted affectionately, for Laud felt that he owed his life to her +care; and she, that all her hopes of future comfort in this life were +centred in his welfare. Yet that very night did William Laud meet his +former comrades, and was persuaded to join their crew at the Bawdsey +Cave, to assume the name of Hudson, and to become again neither more nor +less than a desperate smuggler. + +We will not follow him through his career of guilt: suffice it to say, +that he contrived to send word to Margaret that he had entered into the +service of a Dutch trader, and was promised a future share of his ship. +He pretended to have quitted the society of the smugglers, who at that +time so infested the eastern coasts of this country; and as she heard no +more of his name, and received no more suspicious presents, she suffered +her heart to cherish the fond hope of his reformation. + +The anticipation of days to come, and the promised pleasure of those +days, are always greater than are ever realized by mortals. It is, +however, one of the greatest blessings of life to anticipate good. The +hope, too, of another's welfare, and of being the humble instrument of +promoting the interest of another, is the sweetest bond of woman's +cherished affection. Truly may such be termed man's helpmate, who would +do him good, and not evil, all the days of his life. + +Poor Margaret found, that the more she hoped for Laud's amendment, the +more constant became her attachment, the more she excused his past life, +and the more deeply her heart became engaged to him. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +WILD SCENES + + +Margaret, true to her intentions of going to service, found a kind +friend in Mrs. Denton, who recommended her to Mrs. Wake, of the Priory +Farm, Downham Reach. Here, in September, 1792, she took up her abode as +servant-of-all-work. The whole farm-house was formerly the priory of a +small body of Augustine Monks, and was known by the name of the +Alneshbourne Priory. It is surrounded by a moat of considerable depth +and breadth, and was formerly approached by a drawbridge from the +southern side. + +The site of this old house is still a most romantic and sequestered +spot. In front of it, along a pleasant green slope to the shore, runs a +rippling stream, which having passed through the moat, meanders along +the meadow down to the Orwell, whose broad waters look here like a +magnificent lake. + +On either side of the valley rise the rich woods of Downham Reach; and +behind the house, in the green meadows, may still be seen, though now +covered in with a roof and used as a barn, the chapel of this +sequestered fraternity. + +Lofty elms overshadow the summit of this ancient house, though they grow +upon the open space beyond the moat; and the woods of the owner of the +present house and the district, Sir Philip Broke, stand conspicuously +towering on the sides of the hills. The lover of peaceful nature could +not fail to be struck with the tranquil yet picturesque scenery around +this spot. Here Gainsborough, who, in his younger days, was much +encouraged by Dr. Coyte of Ipswich, loved to roam, and catch the +ever-varying tints of spring and autumn. Here Constable,--the +enthusiastic, amiable, but pensive John Constable, one of the best of +England's landscape-painters,--indulged himself in all the hopes of his +aspiring genius; and Frost, a native of Ipswich, one of the best +imitators of Gainsborough's style, and whose sketches are at this day +most highly esteemed, used to indulge himself in the full enjoyment of +his art. + +At the period we write of--the year 1792--the Orwell's waves went boldly +up to the port, as new and briny as in the days of the Danish invasion. +Now they no longer wash the town. A wet-dock, with its embankments and +its locks, shuts out the ebb and flow of waters, and may be convenient +to the inhabitants of the place; but sadly interferes with the early +associations and recollections of those who, like the writer of this +narrative, passed their boyish years upon the banks of the Orwell. + +But we must no longer wander from our narrative. Margaret, as servant at +the Priory Farm, conducted herself in so exemplary a manner, that she +soon gained the good will of her master and mistress, and the good word +of all the labourers upon the farm. Amongst these latter was a young man +who was particularly acquainted with Margaret's history, and whose name +has occurred in a previous chapter. This was no other than John Barry, +the elder brother of young Edward Barry, who so gallantly led the attack +upon the smugglers on the night in which Will Laud was supposed to have +been killed. John was well aware of Margaret's attachment and engagement +to Will Laud; and he knew the part his brother had taken in the +conflict; and believed, as Edward told him, that he had slain Margaret's +lover. Whether it was the sympathy which arose toward the poor girl +under these circumstances, or the real pleasure which he felt in her +society, it is certain that he became so deeply enamoured as never to be +able to root out of his mind this his first and last attachment. + +This young man was a contrast in every respect to Will Laud. John Barry +was the elder son of a small farmer and miller at Levington, who, having +a numerous family, was anxious they should all be employed. John, as was +customary in that day, sought employment away from his parents' house. +He had asked their permission to let him turn his hand to farming for a +year; and as he was already a good ploughman, and understood the various +methods of culture, he readily found an employer. He was also as good a +scholar for that period as could be found in any of the adjoining +parishes. Added to this, he was a good-principled, steady, persevering, +industrious young man. His father was not badly off in the world for his +station. He it was who first discovered the use of crag-shells for +manure. His man, Edmund Edwards, finding a load or two of manure was +wanted to complete the fertilization of a field which Mr. Barry +cultivated, carried a load or two of the crag, which lay near the mill, +to make it up. He observed, that in the very place which he thought +would prove the worst crop, on account of the seeming poverty of the +soil carted, there arose the most luxuriant produce. Next year Mr. Barry +used it more freely, and found a more abundant recompense. He then +opened immense crag-pits, supplied the country around, and shipped a +large quantity at Levington Creek. By these means he became known as an +enterprising man. His second son took to the sea, and became active in +the service of his native coast. Another son went out to America, and +did remarkably well. + +John went as head man to Mr. Wake, of the Priory Farm. When he left his +father's house, the worthy miller gave him one guinea, with this +advice-- + +"Many a man, John, has entered into the world with less than that, and +by industry, integrity, and good behaviour, has risen to usefulness and +respectability; and many a man, John, who has entered upon life with +thousands and thousands of those shining coins, has sunk to +worthlessness and degradation. Go, boy; be honest, sober, steady, and +diligent. Keep your church and God's commandments, John, and you will +prosper. But should misfortune ever visit you, remember that whilst your +mother and I live you will always find a welcome home. God bless you, +boy! God bless you!" + +John left home, with a guinea in his pocket and with love in his heart. +He did well, even in his first situation. He lived in the farm-house +with Mr. and Mrs. Wake, about seven miles from his father's house. He +did not then dream that he should ever visit any distant shore connected +with his native country. His dreams were of home, industry, and peace. +He had enough--was contented--was well respected; had good health and +full employment, and was a burden to no one. From his constant habit of +witnessing the energy, and activity, and good disposition of the +youthful Margaret, and from a certain knowledge of her past misfortunes, +he imbibed a delicacy of interest in her behalf, which was shown to her +by repeated acts of respect, which others on the farm less delicate did +not care to show. Margaret herself perceived these attentions, and felt +grateful to him for them. Whilst some would now and then relate what +they heard of the wild adventures of Hudson the smuggler, John Barry +always carefully concealed any mention of matters which he could see +gave her pain. So cautious had been his advances towards a more intimate +acquaintance with Margaret, that no one on the farm suspected that John +Barry, the son of the well-to-do Mr. Barry, of Levington, was in the +least captivated by the humble maid of the Priory. Margaret, however, +suspected and dreaded that such might be the case; and she avoided him +as pointedly as she could, without offence to one whom she so much +respected. Barry, however, was too honest to conceal his feelings from +the only person he wished to know them. Returning one evening from work +along Gainsborough's Lane, he met Margaret, who had been to Sawyer's +farm upon an errand for her mistress. + +"Margaret, you know I love you," said the young man, "though I do not +believe that any one upon the farm besides yourself has any idea of it." + +"I feared you did, John, and it grieves me very much to hear you say +so." + +"But why should it grieve you? I love you honestly, and will always do +my best to make you happy." + +"Yes, John, I do not doubt you in anything you say, and I feel very +grateful to you for your kindness; but I cannot return your love." + +"Why not, Margaret? Why should you not learn to like me? I am not indeed +like your former lover, but I think I love you quite as well." + +"That may be also, John; but when I tell you that it is impossible for +me to suffer you to cherish such feelings, you will, I hope, not be +angry with me." + +"I am not angry: I know your past attachment; but I hope that you do not +intend to live and die single because Laud is dead." + +"No; but whilst he lives, John, I neither can nor ought to give +encouragement to any other." + +"But he is dead!" + +"I would let any one else but yourself suppose so." + +"My brother Edward told me himself that he saw him fall." + +"Yes, John, and your brother Edward thought that he gave him his +death-blow; but I am happy, for his sake and for Laud's, that it was not +so." + +"Are you sure of this?" sighed the youth, as if he half regretted that +his brother had not done so. "Are you sure of this?" + +"Quite so--quite so! To no one else would I speak it, but I am sure of +your goodness. I know you will not betray me." + +"Never, Margaret, never!" + +"Well, then, these very hands healed the wound which your brother gave +him. I myself nursed him through his dangerous illness; and I know at +this time that he is in a respectable foreign merchant's service, and as +well as ever he was." + +This was a tremendous blow to the young man's prospects; an answer which +he did not in the least expect, and from which he could find no +encouragement. He begged Margaret's pardon for what he had said, which +was freely given, and a promise made on both sides never to divulge that +day's secret. Alas! this promise was broken by both, as we shall +presently see, at the very same moment. + +But where is Laud, and what is he doing at this time? While the +honest-hearted girl is denying all attachment to any but himself, and +living upon the hope of his future welfare and well-doing, what is _he_ +about? + +He is standing at the Green Cottage, as it was called, on account of the +green shutters which used to shade its casements, close to Butley Abbey. +The dark-frowning ruin of this seat of the black canons of St. Austin, +formerly so grand and extensive, was then in a state of crumbling +desolation. Here, close against that magnificent old gateway, seemingly +in mock grandeur, was a very fine arch, surmounted with the arms of +Michael de la Pole, the third Lord Wingfield, Earl of Suffolk, who was +slain at the battle of Agincourt with Edward Plantagenet, Duke of York. + +Not far from these ruins, with a mind somewhat partaking of the darkness +of that desolation, stood Laud and Luff in close conversation; the +subject of which was no other than Margaret Catchpole! + +Luff had found out Laud's deep-rooted fancy for the maiden, and, villain +as he was, was proposing a deep-laid scheme for the destruction of the +poor girl, who at that very time was undergoing a severe trial of her +affection. + +"I'll tell you what, Laud, the thing is easily to be done. We have +nothing to do but to run the cutter, at the beginning of our next +voyage, into Harwich Harbour, at the fall of the evening, when the mists +hide us from the shore; you and I can run up the Orwell in the gig, and +soon carry off the prize. Once on board, and she is yours as long as you +like." + +"I think I shall leave the service and marry." + +"And get a halter for your pains! No, Will; no, my boy; you are made of +sterner stuff than that. What! for the sake of a girl whom you may have +for many a cruise, and who will like you all the better for your spirit, +would you consent to run the land-robber's risk of being hanged? You +will soon have a new cutter, and your old crew; and though we may have a +long voyage, surely it will be far better to have your damsel with you, +though she may be unwilling at first, than to be living ashore in +continual fear of the officers of justice." + +"But Margaret supposes me at this moment in a foreign ship, and in an +honest trader." + +"Let her think so still. Only once get her on board the _Stour_, and +never trust me if we don't quickly run over to Holland, get you decently +married, and you may settle with her on shore in a short time." + +"Well, Luff, I think it might be done, and fairly, too; and if it be, +you shall have half my share of the prize upon the next run." + +"'Tis a bargain--'tis a bargain! and when we next meet in Bawdsey Cave, +our first trip shall be for the harbour. In the meantime, let us enjoy +ourselves as we can." + +The Green Cottage just mentioned, was one of those places hired by +Captain Bargood, on the eastern coast, which was always kept neat, and +ready for his occupation, by a dame whom he permitted to live in it +rent-free, and paid her something extra too for housekeeping. This was a +place of resort for his captains when out of immediate employ, when his +ships were repairing or building, at home or abroad. The method he took +to secure their services, and to keep them in readiness for the sea, was +to initiate them into the mysteries of poaching when on land. + +So well did this bold fellow play his cards, that his men seldom wanted +employment. + +Game they always had, in season or out of season--no matter--they stuck +at nothing! If they wished for a good custard at Whitsuntide, and made +of the richest eggs, they would have pheasants' and partridges' eggs by +hundreds. In fact these smugglers were as well known for poachers by +many of the people on the coast, as they were for dealers in contraband +goods. They, too, enjoyed the keen zest of the sportsman in a tenfold +manner, if the excitement of the field, the danger of the enterprise, +and the success of the sport, be any criterion by which the pleasure of +such things may be estimated. + +Tame, indeed, they considered the turn-out of the Marquis of Hertford, +with his green-brogued keepers, and their double-barrelled guns and +brushes, for a walk, or rather a stand, at the end of a plantation, +where the pheasants rose in a shower, and were killed like barn-door +fowls. They often saw the noble sportsmen turn into those coverts, +against which they knew they had been such successful poachers the very +night before. + +If hairbreadth escapes, contests with keepers, making nets, snares, and +gins, were amusements to these fellows, they had enough of them. They +could, upon occasion, bribe an unsteady keeper, or make him drunk, and +go his beat for him. All manner of desperate adventures were their +pleasures. Sometimes their society was courted by farmers and others, +who chanced to know, and would occasionally entertain them. Their +knowledge of all that was going on in and out of the country made them +welcome visitors to others; and in a very dangerous period of our +struggle at Flushing, when an order from the coast was to be carried in +spite of danger and difficulty, the intelligence and spirit of these men +were made use of by some in power, who could never countenance them +openly. + +One instance of a singular kind of frolic may here be mentioned, which +might have been of serious consequence to a young man of fortune. + +This gentleman resided in his own house, and upon his own estate, not +far from Hollesley Bay; and though possessed of many broad acres, +abundantly supplied with every species of game common to that country, +yet, singularly enough, he was an exception to that prevalent habit of +all country gentlemen--the being a sportsman. The writer of these pages +has often heard him narrate the following facts:-- + +Laud, or rather Hudson, as he was then called (for Laud was generally +supposed to be dead), met this young man at the Boyton Alms-houses, when +the following conversation arose:-- + +"Good morning to you, captain. But little stirring at sea, I suppose?" + +"We're ashore awhile upon a cruise." + +"So I suppose. What tack do you go upon tonight?" + +"That I know not, sir; but not hereabouts. We shall probably run down to +Orford." + +"I know you are all good hands. I never went sporting in my life, and +never saw any poaching. Now, captain, it's no use being qualmish upon +the subject, but upon my word I should like to see how you poachers +manage to take your game. You need not fear that I should inform against +you, or take advantage of your secrets--for I am no sportsman, as you +know, and care as little about game as any man; but I have heard so much +of your adroitness, and of the methodical manner in which you proceed, +that I really should like to see it. Come, what shall I give you to take +me with you to-night?" + +The smuggler looked at him with a very significant countenance, as much +as to say, "Are you in earnest? May I trust you?" It was very few he +thought he could trust; but there was a simplicity and honesty, a +straight-forward singleness of mind, and such a real, truthful +heartiness of character about the young man, that a far less shrewd man +than Laud could see there was no danger in him. So far from ever +intending evil to any one, he was kind even to a fault: witness his very +treatment of such a man as Laud. He had often seen him about his +marshes, or along the river's side, or in the village, or upon the +heath. He knew what Hudson was; and like many others in that retired +country, became an occasional talker with him, even upon the subject of +smuggling. He knew that his own horses came in for a share of +night-work, as well as his neighbours'; but he always found himself well +treated by the smugglers, and frequently acknowledged the receipt of +some acceptable present. He knew the habits of poaching which these +seamen enjoyed ashore, and he never interrupted them. His own lands were +always abounding in game for his friends, and he never knew that they +were poached. + +"Well, captain, what say you? Will you take me?" + +"That I will, with all my heart. Where will you meet me?" + +"Where you like. Where shall it be?" + +"Suppose my messmate and I call you at eleven o'clock? We can take a +glass of grog with you, and perhaps use your own cart and horse. We +shall most likely go to Iken or Orford. But I will see my mate, and have +everything arranged, and be with you by eleven." + +The honest bachelor who had made this appointment with Laud and Luff, +had no idea of his temerity and of the danger of the deed. He saw only, +for the time, a certain mystery, which he wished to see unravelled, and +forgot all the penalties the law attached to it. + +Our worthy bachelor received his two promising visitors at eleven +o'clock, having first sent every servant to bed, and parted with an aged +mother, who was ignorant, blessedly ignorant, of her son's movements at +such a time of night; Laud and Luff were let into the house; they came, +partook of his good cheer, and then opened upon the subject of their +campaign. + +They told him their intention to have a drag over some of the stubbles +of the Marquis of Hertford's estate, between Iken and Orford, and they +instructed him in the plan of operation. Five men were to meet them in +the lane leading down into Iken Wood: they carried a net capable of +covering four furrows. Not a single word must be spoken. Five would drag +in front, and three behind; one was to hold the check-string, by which +an alarm was conveyed to every one who had hold of the net. In case of a +sudden jerk at this string, each person dropped his hold of the net, and +ran for the nearest hedge, where he concealed himself until he heard the +signal to join forces again, which signal was for that night the crowing +of a cock. When by sundry kicks in the net they found that game was +enclosed, they were to drop the net, at the sound of a small reed +whistle, so low as only to be heard by those who were at a short +distance. As the young host was only a novice, it was proposed that he +should take his station between Hudson and Luff, his two visitors. + +After all proper hints had been repeated, and these worthies had +sufficiently regaled themselves, they all went to the cart-lodge; took +out the market-cart, harnessed the old chestnut gelding, something +between a cart-horse and a roadster, and off they started for as novel +an expedition as ever any man of fortune undertook. + +Will the reader believe that a man of good character--aye, and as +honest, upright, good-natured, kind-hearted, and benevolent a man, as +any of his rank and condition--a man of an intelligent and unwarped +mind--and one who through life was looked upon as good a neighbour as +could be--should so forget himself as to trust his reputation, his +honour--his very life and happiness (for at that time the Game Laws were +very severe), between two as great rascals as ever stole a head of game, +or shot a fellow-creature, in the frenzy of their career? + +The reader must imagine a man far above all want, and with every +blessing which an abundant fortune could supply, without any idea of +intending an affront to the lord of Orford, or any of his affluent +neighbours, seated in his own luggage-cart, with his very name written +in large letters, X. Y. Z., Esq., with his place of abode upon it! He +must imagine such a man, trusting himself between two notorious +characters merely for the spree of the moment, and purely for the sake +of curiosity running the risk of losing his character and his liberty, +and yet without a thought of his danger. Yet the tale is as true as it +is strange. Had not the writer heard the subject of it often declare the +fact, he should have believed it impossible. + +They are off, however, and Luff is the driver. As if acquainted with his +horse, and the horse with him, they went at a rate which astonished even +the owner of the animal. He had said, "Let me drive, for I understand +his humour"; but he found that another understood his own horse as well +as himself. This brute was like a donkey in one respect. Except you gave +him a jerk with the rein, and at the same time gave a rap on the sides +of the cart, you could not get him to move. What, then, was the surprise +of the Squire to find that a stranger could make the old horse go as +well as he could. But not a word was to be spoken--so in silence he +brooded over the singular knowledge of his coachman, and gave him +credit for his driving, which he richly deserved. It was evident the old +horse had been in his hands before that night. On they went through +Boyton, Butley, the borders of Eyke, to the lane leading down to Orford. +Here at a certain gate they stopped, and on the other side of the hedge +were the five men with the net. The old horse was tied to the gate, the +net unrolled, spread out, and, without a single word being spoken, each +man took his station. + +It was just the dawning of the morn, when they could hear the old cock +pheasants crowing to their mates, to come down from their perches to +feed. A rustling wind favoured the work; a large barley stubble was +before them, lying with a slope up to the famous preserve of Iken Wood. + +As they proceeded onward, sundry kicks in the net told of the captured +game, which was regularly and dexterously bagged, by the leading man +passing on to the net to the place of fluttering, and wringing the necks +of the said partridges, pheasants, hares, rabbits, or whatever they +were; then passing them along the meshes to the head of the net, whence +they were safely deposited in the different game-bags of the foremen. + +That this sport was as much enjoyed by these men as that enjoyed by the +best shot in the land; that these fellows were as expert in their +movements and as experienced as Colonel Hawker himself, and as bold as +any foxhunter in the country, is quite true. + +There was one in that party whose courage was soon put to the test, +after a fashion which he little calculated upon, and never forgot. + +After having bagged a considerable quantity of game, and swept several +acres of stubble, they were ascending the middle of the field, toward +the covert, when a sudden violent check of the alarm-string, which ran +from one to the other, told that they must drop the net, and be off. Off +they ran, helter-skelter, as fast as they could, to the nearest fence. + +The Squire's heart was in his throat, and his courage in his heels, as, +with unwonted speed, he ran for his life to the fence. Into brake and +briar, amidst nettles and thistles, brambles and thorns, dashed the hero +of the night, with his top-boots sticking plounce into the mud, and, for +the life of him, not daring to extricate them, for fear of his being +heard and taken by the gamekeepers. The water oozed coolly over the +tops, conveying a gentle moisture to his feverish skin, and proving no +small consolation for his exertions. + +There he lay in a dreadful fright, expecting every instant some stout +keeper's hand to seize him by the shoulders, and lug him out of his +hiding-place. Then it was for the first moment that he felt the +awkwardness of his situation. Reflection told him his danger. Though he +durst scarcely breathe, he felt his heart beat tumultuously against his +chest, at the thought of his folly and the possibility of detection. + +"Oh, what a fool I am," thought he, "to run the risk of transportation +for such a freak! My name is on my cart; it is my horse, and the fellows +will swear they were in my employ. On me will be visited the vengeance +of the law. Lord Hertford will never forgive me. I shall have all the +magistrates, squires, noblemen, gentlemen, gamekeepers, and watchers up +in arms against me; and all for what?--for a foolish curiosity, which I +have thus gratified at the expense of my character. Oh! if I get out of +this scrape, never, never will I get into such a one again!" + +In the midst of these painful impressions, the Squire's heart was +gladdened by the cheerful sound of "bright chanticleer." Never did cock +crow with a pleasanter sound than that good imitation, which told that +the coast was clear. + +Some time did the Squire hesitate whether he should join the sport +again, and a still longer time did it take him to extricate his boots +from the mud, for he came out of the ditch minus the right leg covering, +and, after sundry tugs, and, when out, sundry shakings, &c., to turn out +the water, and then, as may be supposed, no small difficulty in getting +it on again, he managed to join his companions, who had almost felt +persuaded that he had totally decamped. The cause of this alarm was a +poor unfortunate jackass, which had strayed from the lane into the +stubble, and which, standing with his head and ears erect, had presented +to the foreman the appearance of a determined gamekeeper. + +A few more acres were dragged, more game secured, and the party once +more safely seated in the cart. Two sacks of game lay in the bottom of +the vehicle, which were both deposited (saving one bagful for the host) +at the Green Cottage at Butley Moor. What a happy man was that host, +when, after all his dangers, he found himself again within his own +doors! happier still, when, after entertaining his free companions, +whose jokes upon his expressions of joy at escape were amusing enough to +them, though painfully interesting to himself; happier still was he, +when, at four o'clock in the morn, he let them out of his house, and +bade poachers and poaching good-bye for ever! + +Nineteen beautiful cock pheasants were hung up in his larder; but so +ashamed was the Squire of their being seen there, that, before he +retired to his own bed, he put them all into a box, with hay, &c., and +directed them to Mr. Thomas Page, his wine-merchant, in London. His +_spolia opima_ were not mentioned till years had in some measure worn +off the rust of danger, and then he gave his friends and neighbours +reason to rejoice in his adventure, and that he had escaped +transportation. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +HARVEST-HOME + + +It was the evening before Harvest-Home, September 29, 1793, that a +sailor called at the back-door of the Priory Farm, Downham Reach, to ask +for a draught of fresh water. It was no uncommon thing for sailors to +call for such a purpose. Downham Reach was the nearest point at which +ships of large tonnage would usually anchor, and shift their cargoes in +lighters for the town of Ipswich, whence it was distant about four +miles. The crews of vessels frequently had to walk up to the town from +this spot; so that it was no uncommon thing for them, upon landing near +the Priory Farm after a voyage, to be glad of a sparkling draught of +clear water. The desired draught was handed to the sailor by the +ever-ready hand of Margaret Catchpole, who always took an interest in +men belonging to the sea. + +"Is dis de Priry Barm?" asked the man, in broken English. + +"This is the Priory Farm," was the quick and eager reply of Margaret. + +"How bar to Gipswitch?" + +"Four miles to Ipswich. What country are you from?" + +"Mynheer be brom Hamsterdam. I lept me bessel in de harber. Mynheer de +Captan did 'mand me up to Gipswitch. 'E 'mand me 'top at Priry Barm to +tale von Margaret Catchpole dad 'e vou'd come up 'ere to-morrow, at nine +o'clock in de eve." + +"What is your captain's name?" + +"Von Villiam Laud." + +The reader need not be told the rest of the conversation, which of +course related to the Captain. How he was? How he got on? Whose service +he was in? How he would come up? And where Margaret was to meet him? It +was all arranged that she should be upon the shore at nine o'clock, and +look out for a small sail-boat, which should come up the river and run +ashore against the creek: that the watchword should be "Margaret," and +that punctuality should be observed. + +Margaret's quick understanding soon construed all the sailor said into +proper English, though she could not perceive that the man only feigned +a foreign accent and manner. He was indeed one of Laud's crew, an +emissary sent on purpose to decoy the poor girl on to the strand, that +he might carry her off to a foreign shore, against her own determined +purpose. + +It is not to be wondered at that she should be a little agitated. Whose +heart would not have been so under similar circumstances? The expected +arrival of some fashionable and insinuating man of fortune into the +saloon of fashion has not agitated the heart of an amiable and +interesting young lady more sensibly than poor Margaret felt herself +fluttering within at this peculiar time. It is a great question, +however, whether any high-spirited damsel could prevent the exposure of +her high feelings with more effect than this poor girl did hers, who not +only had her own interest to induce her so to do, but her lover's also. + +The last day of September came, and with it all the bustle and pleasure +of Harvest-Home. No small share of work fell to Margaret's hands, who +had to prepare the harvest supper for fourteen men, besides women and +children. + +At that time of day, all the single men lodged in the master's house, +and were expected to conform to all the rules, regulations, hours, and +work, of a well-regulated family. + +Once in a year, the good farmer invited the married men, with their +wives and families, to supper; and this supper was always the +Harvest-Home. This was the day on which the last load of corn was +conveyed into the barn or stack-yard, covered with green boughs, with +shouting, and blowing of the merry harvest horn. + +All the labourers upon the Priory Farm were assembled at six o'clock in +the evening: nine married men, and five single ones; the wives, and +those children who were old enough to come to the feast, together with +the boys, four in number, who had to work upon the land. + +A picture fit for the hand of Wilkie was exhibited in that ancient +farm-house. It is surprising that no good artist should have painted The +Harvest Supper. The Rent-day, Blindman's-buff, The Fair, The Blind +Fiddler, or any of his celebrated works, could scarcely afford a more +striking subject for the canvas, or the printseller, than The +Harvest-Home. Such a scene may have been painted, but the writer of +these pages has never seen it described, though he has often witnessed +it in real life, and has shared with innocent pleasure in its rustic +joy. + +Margaret received great assistance from some of the married women. One +pair of hands could not, indeed, have prepared sufficient eatables for +such a party:--smoking puddings, plain and plum; piles of hot potatoes, +cabbages, turnips, carrots, and every species of vegetable which the +farmer's lands could produce--beef, roast and boiled, mutton, veal, and +pork, everything good and substantial; a rich custard, and apple-pies, +to which the children did ample justice, for all were seated round this +well-furnished table in the old kitchen, celebrated for its curious roof +and antique chimney-piece. + +The lord of the feast, or head man in the harvest-field, took his +station at the head of the table, whilst the master of the house, and +his wife, his sister, and even his daughter, were the servants of the +feast, and took every pains to gratify and satisfy the party. + +Poor labourers are not the only class in England fond of a good dinner. +There are hundreds and thousands, with half the appetites of these +joyful sons and daughters of the sickle, who glory in a feast. How often +is the rich table spread with every delicacy, and at an enormous cost +the greatest rarities provided, and a group of lords and ladies seated +thereat! Things just tasted and dismissed, and all due ceremonies +performed, the company rise without any satisfaction, and return to +their homes grateful to nobody; sometimes hungry and dissatisfied, moody +and contentious; disappointed, disaffected, tired, and palled by the +very fashion of the thing, in which there has been no enjoyment and no +thankfulness. + +It was not so at this rustic feast. Simplicity and pleasure sat upon +each face. Fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, felt thankful to God +for their master's prosperity, and received his attentions with +unaffected gratitude. + +After the feast, and a flowing jug or two of brown ale had been emptied, +the wives and children were invited into the best parlour to tea and +cakes, whilst the merry reapers were left to themselves, to enjoy in +their own way the stronger harvest ale, which was just broached by the +hand of their master. + +Margaret had done her duty well, and was busily engaged washing up the +dishes as fast as she could, that she might, in the midst of this +bustling evening get her work sufficiently forward not to be missed, +should she run down to the shore. + +"Boy, take the can to the girl and have it filled"; for the master had +deputed Margaret to draw whatever ale was called for. + +This was soon done, and the boy returned just as the old clock struck +eight. + +Margaret heard with a fluttering heart the songs, according to custom, +commencing; and getting her work well forward, she resolved, after the +next can of ale was replenished, to be off. + +Accordingly, she ran up the back stairs, and brought down her bonnet and +shawl, which she left behind the staircase-door, and anxiously awaited +the moment to be off duty. She had put every plate in the rack, laid all +the iron spoons in the drawer, cleaned the spit, and placed it, bright +and shining, over the chimney-piece. All the skewers had been strung, +all the knives and forks washed and wiped, boilers, saucepans, +gridirons, and the rest of the culinary utensils cleaned, and placed in +their proper places; in short, scarcely any one would have believed that +they had that day been used. Clean they were, and cleaner the +well-washed face and hands of the active girl, who had finished her +work, and prepared herself for an interview with one whose image had +been graven on her mind through every period of her short service. + +At last she heard that welcome sound, more enchanting to her ear than +any song which the young men had sung: "Boy, take the can to Margaret!" + +It was soon replenished; and scarcely was the kitchen-door closed, ere +the bonnet and shawl were put on, the latch of the door lifted up, and +the bright rising moon shining gloriously in at the door. Happy moment! +what pencil could portray the features of that face upon which the moon +so clearly shone on that September night? + +Poor girl! 'twas a breathless moment of long anticipated pleasure to thy +good and honest heart, such as many a one, like thee, may have +experienced; but such as none, be she who she may, could have more +anxiously endured. + +At last, Margaret is off. + +The pleasure of the feast continued; and, as the foaming ale went round, +the spirits of the youths arose, and each bachelor who could not sing +had to toast his favourite lass. + +There were singular disclosures made at this season, which generally +indicated the future destiny of the bachelor. It was amusing enough to +hear those who did not choose to tell their lover's name attempt to +sing, as "the lord" called upon him for a toast or song. + +"We haven't had Jack Barry's song," said a sly fellow of the name of +Riches, who himself was one of the best singers in the party. "Please, +sir" (for such the lord of the feast was styled that night), "call upon +Jack for his song." + +Now, the labourer at the head of the table knew that Jack could not +sing. He did not suppose, either, that he had any favourite lass; for no +one had seen Jack flirting, or directing his attentions towards any +favoured individual. The lord, however, was bound to do his duty, when +so urged; he therefore said, "John Barry, we call upon you for a song." + +"I cannot sing, master: I wish I could," was the reply. + +"Then you must give us a toast; and you know what it must be--'Your +favourite lass.'" + +Jack hung down his head in solemn silence, for he felt extremely +awkward. He _had_ a favourite lass; he felt he had; and no one knew it +but himself; and if he should toast her, he felt that he should be +laughed at. He remained in a state of painful suspense, between doubt +and fear. A thousand thoughts revolved in his mind, whether he should +not give a fictitious name, or some one whom he had heard of, or only +knew by sight; but then appeared the certainty of some of them +congratulating the person he might happen to mention, and so bringing +him into a scrape. He thought also of dissimulation, and a lie, at which +Jack's honest nature revolted. But if he should really tell his +sweetheart's name! He felt for her, he felt for himself, and he remained +a long time without uttering a word. + +"Come, Jack, my boy, what's the matter? Give us your favourite lass! +What makes you flinch, my lad?" + +Jack remained silent, until some began to think he meant to shirk the +subject. The fact is, that Jack had really some notion of bolting, and +once or twice he cast a sidelong glance at the door, with the full +intention of an escape; but Will Riches, perceiving this, most +unceremoniously bolted the door; and, as the jug stood close by him, he +declared he would know Jack's sweetheart before another drop should be +drunk. + +"Come, Jack," says he, "why not give us at once the girl you love +best?" + +"Because she does not love me," was Jack's quick reply. + +Here was a most significant glance from one to another round about the +room; and more than one whispered to his neighbour, "Who is it?" Not a +soul could tell, for no one had the slightest idea who the girl could be +who would refuse so honest a fellow as Jack Barry. Some began to think +that Jack had stepped out of his latitude, that he had dared to aspire +to the master's daughter; some, that it was Matilda Baker, the grocer's +girl; others set it down as Lucy Harper, of Stratton. But, be the damsel +whom she might, Jack's speech had set such a spirit of curiosity +a-working, that the married men hoped to know for their wives' sake, and +the single ones for their mistresses' amusement. Jack had got further +into the mire by his floundering, and every one saw that he was +struggling all he could to escape. + +"Well, Jack, who is she? Who is she? Do we any of us know her?" + +"Yes, all of you." + +Here they were all out at sea again. + +"It must be the master's fair daughter," said Ned Palmer to his +neighbour. + +"I don't think it," was the reply; "but he is not willing to tell us, +and it's hardly fair to press him." + +"It's a law, a positive law--I've told mine," says John Ruddock, "and I +don't see why he should flinch from the name. I must have it." + +"The name! the name!" exclaimed one or two resolute fellows. + +A tear stood in Jack's eye. This might be a good joke to some; but the +elders of the party, who saw it, especially honest Tom Keeble, the lord +of the evening, felt for the young man that respect which induced him to +make a sortie or parley, in the hope of giving him relief. + +"Riches," said he, "as the jug stands by you, I shall call upon you for +a song. Our young friend may, by the time you have entertained us, have +recovered himself; and, after your song, I shall order the jug round to +drink your health, if we do not get the lass." + +Now, Will prided himself upon his vocal powers, and was a bold, forward +fellow. He had no objection to sing, nor had any of the company any +objection to his song; and, truth to tell, all hoped the jug of brown +ale would not be stopped long, either for the song or for "the favourite +lass." So Will sang his song. + +"I'll sing you a new song," says he. "I'll sing you one in which you can +all join in chorus in the house, as you have often done in the field. +I'll sing you-- + + 'HALLO LARGESS.'" + +Accordingly, he lifted up his voice, and sang this truly happy and +appropriate harvest song:-- + + Now the ripened corn + In sheaves is borne, + And the loaded wain + Brings home the grain, + The merry, merry reapers sing a bind, + And jocund shouts the happy harvest hind, + Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess! + + Now the harvest's o'er, + And the grain we store, + And the stacks we pull, + And the barn is full, + The merry, merry reapers sing again, + And jocund shouts the happy harvest swain, + Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess! + + Now our toil is done, + And the feast is won, + And we meet once more + As we did of yore, + The merry, merry reapers sing with glee, + And jocund shout their happy harvest spree, + Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess! + + Now the feast we share-- + 'Tis our master's fare, + May he long, long live + Such a treat to give, + And merry, merry reapers sing with joy, + And jocund shouts the happy harvest boy, + Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess! + + Now we join in song + With our voices strong, + And our hearts are high + With our good supply, + We merry, merry reapers joyful come + To shout and sing our happy Harvest-Home, + Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Largess! + +The spirit of this song is in the chorus, which is peculiar to the +eastern counties of this kingdom. So "Hallo Largess!" may be well +understood here, but in many parts of the country is quite unknown. At +the time of harvest, when the men are reaping down the fields, should +their master have any friends visiting his fields, the head man among +the labourers usually asks a largess, which is generally a shilling. +This is asked not only of friends and visitors, but of strangers +likewise, should they pause to look at the reapers as they bind up the +sheaves. + +At evening, when the work of the day is over, all the men collect in a +circle, and Hallo, that is, cry, Largess. Three times they say, in a low +tone, "Hallo Large! Hallo Large! Hallo Large!" and all, hand in hand, +bow their heads almost to the ground; but, after the third monotonous +yet sonorous junction, they lift up their heads, and, with one burst of +their voices, cry out, "Gess!" + +Varieties of this peculiar custom may exist in some districts. Sometimes +the man with the most stentorian lungs will mount an eminence and lead +the rest, who join in chorus. They generally conclude the ceremony with +three shouts, and then "Thank Mr., Mrs., Miss, or Master" (as the case +of the donor may be) "for his largess." Whence the origin of this +practice, is not now easily to be ascertained. It was much more common +than it is. The habit of dividing the gains, too, at the harvest frolic, +is going fast out of fashion; nor is its substitute an amendment. + +At the period here mentioned, and in the Priory Farm, it was customary +for the lord to divide the largess among the men, women, and children; +which formed a species of family nest-egg, to provide against some +urgent necessity. The custom has now degenerated into an ale-house +revel, and the money is all drunk out for the benefit of no one but the +publican. + +"Will Riches, your health!" said the lord, as, at the same moment, he +turned the contents of a canvas-bag upon the table, which exhibited a +very good aspect of liberal contributions. The reader may suppose that +every master-tradesman who visited the farm had to give his share, and +that the lord had not been unmindful of his solicitations, when, upon +counting the contents of the bag, there were found one hundred shillings +and sixpence. This exactly gave five shillings a-piece to the fourteen +men, half-a-crown ditto to the nine women, and two shillings each to the +four boys. + +The division of this sum gave great satisfaction; and our persecuted +friend, Jack Barry, had almost unperceived accomplished a successful +retreat in the interesting moment of pocketing the cash. But the +watchful songster had him in his eye; and, as he rose to thank the +company for the honour done him in drinking his health, he intercepted +Jack in the act of drawing back the bolt of the door. + +"I think this is the best place I can speak from; and, as Jack is so +anxious to be off, perhaps to see his sweetheart, I hope he'll give me +the opportunity of proposing her health in his absence, for not until he +has given us her name shall the bolt be drawn." + +The poor fellow had counted on his escape, but little thought of the +extremity of ridicule he was thus bringing upon himself. At length, +urged on all sides, he could resist no longer, but, in a kind of +ludicrous despair, he exclaimed-- + +"Well, then, I'll toast the health of Margaret Catchpole!" + +The pencil of Wilkie could alone describe the wild burst of unrestrained +glee at this declaration. + +"Margaret Catchpole!" was as suddenly responded in surprise by men, +women, and children; and such grinning countenances, and coarse +laughter, and joking congratulations, were beginning to show themselves, +that Jack, no longer able to endure their gibes, bolted to the door, +and, finding no resistance to his will, made his exit, amidst the roars +of his companions, who vociferated, with a cheer, "The health of +Margaret Catchpole!" + +Jack fled precipitately from this scene of tumult and confusion, and, as +he passed the little foot-bridge over the stream from the moat, he still +heard the rude merriment he had excited. The moon rose brilliantly over +the little chapel in the dark background, and was reflected upon the +water in a line with the bridge, and showed Jack's figure in darkness +crossing the light plank; but he was soon in the shadow of those lofty +trees, which darkened the footpath towards the gamekeeper's cottage. He +had instinctively taken this path because it led to Levington, his +father's house; and he then remembered that parent's parting words--"If +ever you feel yourself unhappy, my boy, remember you have a home here, +in which, as long as your mother and I live, we shall be happy to give +you a welcome." + +Jack was really unhappy, and he had some cause for feeling so, though he +felt that it lay not with himself. He knew that he had spoken the truth, +though it had cost him a severe pang; and whilst he felt much grief at +the thought of the jeers and quizzings he should meet with, and the +annoyances he might occasion the poor girl whom he really loved, he had +still spoken the truth, which he was not ashamed to confess. He was +arrested in his progress by the voice of John Gooding, the old +gamekeeper of the great Squire of Nacton--Philip Broke. + +"Who goes there?" was his question. + +"John Barry," was the reply. + +"Where now, Jack--where now?" + +"What, Mr. Gooding, is it you? Has the tide turned? Can I walk along the +shore to Levington?" + +"The tide has only just turned; but, if you take the wood-path for a +while to Nacton, you may then, if you like it, keep the shore along +Orwell Park, and pass the old Hall to Levington. But what makes you +leave good company at this time o' night?" + +"I have left them all very merry at the harvest supper, but I had a mind +to see my friends." + +"Well, Jack, had it been any other man upon the farm, I should have been +suspicious of you as a poacher; but I know you well, and can believe +you. I should not trust some that you have left behind. I was just going +down to the Priory, to see how you lads fared to-night." + +"Well, Mr. Gooding, you will find them all very glad to see you, and no +doubt they will make you welcome; but will you trouble yourself to let +master know where I am gone to-night, that he may close his doors +without expecting to see me?" + +"That I will; and, when I get there, I will propose your health, Jack, +during your absence." + +"Do so, Mr. Gooding; and tell them all, they have my hearty good wishes +for their health and happiness." + +"Good-night." + +"Good-night." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE CONFLICT + + +But where is Margaret all this time? She is on the shore, casting an +anxious eye upon the waters. The moon is shining with such perfect +brightness, that she can see across the river, though it be nearly two +miles from the strand at Downham Reach to Freston Tower. She looks +towards the dark shades of Woolverstone, and with a lover's anxious eye, +fancies she can descry a sail. A sail there was; but it came very slowly +on, though a breeze reached the spot where poor Margaret was standing. + +In that old vessel, seated at the helm, was as extraordinary a character +as ever sailed upon the waves of the Orwell; and as he will be no +insignificant actor in some succeeding scenes of this work, he shall be +here introduced to the notice of the reader. He is thus described in the +_Suffolk Garland_. + +"The ancient fisherman whose character is here portrayed is not a mere +creature of the imagination, but an eccentric being, once resident in +the parish of St. Clement, Ipswich, by name Thomas Colson, but better +known by the appellation of Robinson Crusoe. He was originally a +wool-comber, and afterwards a weaver; but a want of constant employment +in either of these occupations induced him to enter into the East +Suffolk Militia. Whilst quartered at Leicester, he learned, with his +usual ingenuity, the art of stocking-weaving, which trade he afterwards +followed in this county. But this employment, in its turn, he soon +relinquished, and became a fisherman on the river Orwell. His little +vessel (if vessel it might be called, for every part of it was his own +handiwork) presented a curious specimen of naval patchwork, for his +extreme poverty did not afford him the means of procuring proper +materials. In this leaky and crazy vessel, it was his constant custom, +by day and by night, in calms and in storms, to toil on the river for +fish. His figure was tall and thin; his countenance meagre, yet +striking; and his eye sharp and piercing. Subject to violent chronic +complaints, with a mind somewhat distempered, and faculties impaired, he +was a firm believer in the evil agency of wizards and witchcraft.... His +mind was so haunted with the dreams of charms and enchantments, as to +fancy that he was continually under the influence of these mischievous +tormentors. His arms and legs, nay, almost his whole body, was encircled +with bones of horses, rings, amulets, and characts, verses, words, &c., +&c., as spells and charms to protect him against their evil +machinations. On different parts of his boat was to be seen 'the +horseshoe nailed,' that most effective antidote against the power of +witches. When conversing with him, he would describe to you that he saw +them hovering about his person, and endeavouring by all their arts to +punish and torment him. Though a wretched martyr to the fancies of a +disordered imagination, his manners were mild and harmless, and his +character honest and irreproachable. But, however powerful and effective +his charms might be to protect him from the agency of evil spirits, they +did not prove sufficiently operative against the dangers of storm and +tempest. For, being unfortunately driven on the ooze by a violent storm +on the 3rd of October, 1811, he was seen, and earnestly importuned to +quit his crazy vessel; but relying on the efficacy of his charms, he +obstinately refused; and the ebb of the tide drawing his bark off into +deep water, his charms and his spells failed him, and poor Robinson sank +to rise no more." + +The writer of these pages knew Colson well. He has often, when a boy, +been in his boat with him; and always found him kind and gentle. + +The old man who sat at the helm of his crazy vessel, now toiling up the +Orwell, was a perfect fisherman, patient, quiet, steady, active, and +thoughtful. He had enough to employ his mind as well as his body, and +too deeply was that mind engaged. The whole legion of evil spirits +seemed to be his familiar companions, or rather his incessant enemies. +He knew all their names, and their propensities; how they visited and +afflicted men; and his great study was, how to prevent their malice +taking effect upon himself or any one else. He would converse with them, +and parley with them; he would seem to suffer when any of them took him +by surprise and found him off his guard. The loss of any one of his +numerous charms was sure to occasion the visit of that very demon from +whose attacks it was supposed to defend him. He has often been tried by +intelligent persons, anxious to discover if he really invented a new +tale for each spirit; notes were kept of the name and the peculiar +temper he attributed to each; and, months afterwards, he was questioned +again and again upon the same points, but he never faltered--never +attributed a wrong direction to any one--but was as accurate and certain +as on the first day he spoke of them. + +The whole purport of these attacks was to persuade Robin to do some +wicked deed, at which his mind revolted; and when they could not prevail +against him, they used to seem, to his suffering mind, to torment him, +sometimes to pinch him, sometimes to pelt him, at others, to burn or +scald him, pull his hair off his head, to pull his ears, his nose, or +his arms; and, under all these seeming attacks, the old man's +countenance would exhibit the species of suffering resembling the +agonies of one really under such torture. No one could persuade him that +it was imaginative; he would shake his head and say, "I see them +plainly--take care they do not visit you!" + +He was a very kind friend to many who were afflicted; and never saw a +person in distress whilst he had a fish in his boat, or a penny in his +pocket, and refused to help him. + +From the great encouragement he met with, and the friends who were +always kind to him, it is supposed that he might have laid by a +sufficiency for his latter days, for at one time he had amassed enough +to have purchased a new vessel, but in an evil hour he was induced to +lend it to an artful villain, who represented himself in great distress, +but who ran off with the whole. + +It was curious to see the old man whilst repairing his boat, which was, +when given to him by Mr. Seekamp, but a wreck, as it lay upon the mud +near Hog Island. It was curious to see him, whilst plying his hatchet, +suddenly stop, seat himself on a piece of timber, and hold parley with +one of the demons, who, in his frenzy, he fancied attacked him. After +searching about his person, he would suddenly catch up a talisman, which +shown to the enraged spirit would send him off, and leave the tormented +in peace. His delight was visible in the chuckling joy of his speech, as +he returned triumphantly and speedily to his accustomed work. + +Colson, who sat at the helm of his vessel, which creaked heavily under +the breeze as it sprang up, was in one of his moods of reverie, when, +stooping down and straining his eyes to windward, he saw a sail. It was +a small boat, which seemed to have got more wind in her canvas than +Robin could obtain. + +On came the boat; and the breeze began to swell the many-coloured sail +of the bewitched barque; but Robin's canvas was heavy compared with the +airy trimming of the feathers of the little duck that followed him. Like +a creature of life, she skipped along, and soon overtook the old +fisherman of the Orwell. + +"What ship ahoy! What ship ahoy!" exclaimed a gruff voice from the boat +below, as Robin, leaning over the stern of his clumsy craft, looked +closely into her with an eager eye. + +"It's only old Robinson Crusoe," replied the other. "You may speak long +to him before you know what he means, even if you get any answer at +all." + +"Ahoy! ahoy!" was, however, the old man's reply. "You've got the foul +fiend aboard. What are you up to, Will? I know that's Will Laud's voice, +though I haven't heard it lately. Whither bound, Will? whither bound?" + +"Confound the fellow!" muttered Will. "I never heard him say so much +before. The foul fiend always sails with him. But give him a good word, +John, and a wide berth." + +"Heavy laden, Robin? heavy laden? You've a good haul aboard. Crabs, or +lobsters, or crayfish--eh, Robin? turbot, plaice, or flounders? soles, +brill, or whiting? sanddabs, or eels? But you've got plenty, Bob, or I +mistake, if not a choice. The tide is falling: you'll never reach the +Grove to-night." + +"I shall get up in time, Will. You've lightened my cargo. You've got a +pleasant companion aboard. You've got my black fiend on your mainsail. +There he sits, pointing at you both, as if he had you in his own +clutches. Take care he don't drive you aground. He sticks close to the +sail, Will." + +"Heave ahoy! heave ahoy! Good-night!" and away bounded the boat, which +was then passing Pin Mill, in the widest part of the river, and steering +towards the shades of Woolverstone. The obelisk rose high over the dark +trees, pointing to the clear, moonlit sky, its pinnacle still tinged +with the last red light of that autumnal evening. + +But the breeze freshening, the little skiff darted along the side of the +greensward, which sloped to the water's edge; and, as she passed, the +startled doe leaped up from her repose, and stamped her foot, and +snorted to the herd reposing or browsing on the side of the hill. + +Woolverstone Park, with its thick copses and stately trees, whose roots +reached, in snaky windings, to the very shore, was now the range along +which the barque skirted till it came opposite the white cottage, which +stands on a small green opening, or lawn, slanting down to the river. + +The park boat was moored against the stairs, and a single light burned +against the window, at which a white cat might be seen to be sitting. It +was a favourite cat of the gamekeeper's, which had accidentally been +killed in a rabbit-trap, and, being stuffed, was placed in the window of +the cottage. Visible as it always was in the same place, in the broad +day and in the clear moonlight, the sailors on the river always called +that dwelling by the name of the Cat House; by which it is known at the +present day. High above it might be seen the mansion, shining in the +moonbeam, and many lights burning in its various apartments--a sign of +the hospitality of W. Berners, Esquire, the lord of that beautiful +domain. + +But the two sailors in the boat were little occupied with thoughts about +the beauty of this scene, or the interest that might attach to that side +of the water. Their eyes were bent upon the opposite shore; and, as they +sailed along, with a favourable wind, they soon passed the boathouse and +the mansion of Woolverstone. + +"Luff, do you think we shall be lucky? I'd venture my share of the next +run, if I could once safely harbour the prize from yonder shore." + +"Why, Will, you speak as if the Philistines were to meet you. Who can +prevent your cutting out such a prize?" + +"I know not; except that she is too difficult a craft to manage." + +"Pshaw, Will! her cable may be easily cut; and once we have her in tow, +with this side-wind upon our sail, we shall be back again as quickly as +we came." + +"Maybe, maybe, John; but I do not like being too desperate. I'll fulfil +my word, and give you more than half my share, which you know is a +pretty good one, if you will lend me an honest and fair play." + +"I'll do nothing, Bill, but what you tell me. I'll lay like a log in the +boat, and stir not without the boatswain's whistle; and as to an honest +hand, I'll tell you what, Will, 'tis something as good as your own--it +will do by you as well as your own would do by me." + +"Say no more, say no more! But look, John--I do believe I see her by the +shore." + +"I see something white, but that's the cottage in the Reach." + +"No, no, John; keep her head well up; my eyes are clearer than yours--I +see her flag waving in the wind. You may take your tack now, John--we +shall run directly across. Ease out the mainsail a bit, and I'll mind +the foresail. Bear up, my hearty! bear up, my hearty!" + +With such words of mutual encouragement did these men of the sea, the +river, and the land, after passing Woolverstone Park, steer directly +across, towards Nacton Creek, that they might hug the wind under Downham +Reach, and move more rapidly, in shallow water, against the tide. + +Any one would imagine, from their conversation, that they were intent +upon cutting out some vessel from her moorings, instead of a poor, +defenceless girl, who, trusting to nothing but the strength of true +love, stood waiting for them on the shore. + +There stood the ever faithful Margaret, with palpitating heart, watching +the light barque, as it came bounding over the small curling waves of +the Orwell. In her breast beat feelings such as some may have +experienced; but, whoever they may be, they must have been most +desperately in love. Hope, fear, joy, and terror, anxiety, and +affection--each, in turn, sent their separate sensations, in quick +succession, into her soul. Hope predominated over the rest, and +suggested these bright thoughts-- + +"He is coming to me, no more to be tried, no more to be disapproved, but +to tell me he is an honest man, and engaged in honest service." + +What a picture would she have presented at that moment to any genuine +lover of nature! Who could describe that eye of expectation, swelled as +it was with the animating hope of happiness to come! Who could describe +that heaving heart, answering as it did to every heave of the little +boat which came bounding to the shore! And what words shall speak that +sudden emotion, as the welcome sound of the grounding keel, and the rush +of waters following it, told that the boat was ashore, which conveyed to +a woman's heart all that she had so long looked for, hoped, and +feared--her lover's return! + +The watchword, "_Margaret_," was spoken, and in another moment her joy +and grief, and love and hope, were, as it were, embodied in the embrace +of him she loved. Moments at such time fly too rapidly--an hour seems +but an instant. There is so much to say, to express, to ponder upon, +that the time is always too short. In honest love there seems to be no +fear, no death, no time, no change--a sort of existence indescribably +happy, indefinitely blissful, hopeful, and enduring. + +In the heart of Margaret, the poor Margaret Catchpole, love was her +life; and as she stood upon that strand, and first welcomed her William, +she felt the purest, happiest, and holiest feelings of joy, rectitude, +and honesty--such as she never before had felt to such extent, and such +as she knew but for a few short moments, and often wished for again, but +never, never afterwards experienced. + +Since his absence from Margaret, the character of Laud had become more +and more desperate, and to say that the same pure feeling burned in his +breast as did in Margaret's would not be true. No man who leads a guilty +life can entertain that purity of love in his heart which shall stand +the test of every earthly trial; but Margaret, like many real lovers, +attributed to him she loved the same perfection and singleness of +attachment which she felt towards him. Had she known that this pure +flame was only burning as pure and bright in the honest soul of Jack +Barry, she would, it may be, have rejected Laud, and have accepted him; +but she knew not this. She was not blind to the faults of the sailor, +though she was blinded to his real character. She expected to find a +love like her own, and really believed his affection to be the same to +the last. + +"Now, Margaret," he at length exclaimed, "now's the time: my boat is +ready, my ship is at the mouth of the river. A snug little cabin is at +your service; and you will find more hearts and hands to serve you than +you ever had in your life." + +"But where am I to go, William? What business have I on board your +master's vessel? He would not approve of your sailing with your young +wife. I thought you came to tell me you were prepared to marry me from +my own dear father's house, and to be a comfort and a blessing to my +aged mother." + +"Margaret, you say you love me. My time is short. I am come here to +prove the sincerity of my love, and to take you, in an honest way, to a +country where we may be married; but if you send me away now, we may +never meet again." + +"If you are true, William--if, as you say, your prospects are good, and +you have spared sufficient from your lawful gains to hire a cottage and +to make me happy, why not get leave of absence, and come and marry me in +dear old England?" + +"I may not be able to get leave for a long time; and what difference +does it make whether we are married here, or in my employer's country? +Marriage is marriage, Margaret, in every place, all the world over." + +"Yes, Will; but I have heard that marriages solemnized in some countries +do not hold good in others; and whether they did or not, I should like +those who first gave me birth to give me to you, William. My consent, +they know, is a willing one; but I should not be happy in mind, if I +were to leave my parents without their knowing where I was gone." + +"What will it matter if they do not know it till we return? I almost +think you would like another better than me, Margaret." + +"If you, William, were, in some respects, other than you are, I should +like you full as well; but, as you are, I love you, and you know it. Why +not come ashore, and marry me at our own church, and in the presence of +my own parents? As to any other, William, though another may like me, I +cannot help it, but I can help his having me." + +"Then there is another that does love you!--is there, Margaret?" + +A blush passed over Margaret's face as she replied, "Another has told me +so, and I did not deceive him. He thought you dead, or he would never +have ventured upon the subject. I told him he was mistaken, that you +were not dead, and that I still loved you, William." + +"Then he knows I live, does he?" + +"Yes." + +"And you have betrayed me?" + +"No: I have not told any one but him; and as he pressed his suit, +thinking that you were no more, I felt it to be only due to him to tell +him you were alive." + +"And who is he, Margaret? You would not have been so plain with him if +he had not had somewhat of your confidence." + +"He is an honest young man, and of very good and respectable parents--he +works at the Priory Farm; and seeing him, as I do, daily, I can form +sufficient judgement of his character to believe he would never betray +any one." + +"Upon my word, Margaret, he must be a prodigy of perfection! Perhaps you +would like him to be bridesman upon our wedding-day?" + +"I would, indeed, if he would like it, and you had no objection." + +"What is his name?" + +"John Barry." + +"What! of Levington?" + +"Yes." + +"His brother is in the coastguard. It was he who gave me this, Margaret, +this cut upon my forehead--this, that you took such pains to heal." + +"And it is healed, William; and your heart, too, I hope." + +"No, no, no!--I owe him one!" + +"Consider me his creditor, and pay it me; for I healed that wound, and +it brought with it reformation." + +"I would not give you what I would give him." + +"No, William; but you ought not to bear malice. His brother has been +very kind to me. I may say, he is the only one who never reproached me +with having been the mistress of a smuggler." (There was a fearful frown +upon the smuggler's brow at this moment, and a convulsive grasp of the +poor girl's hand, that told there was agony and anger stirring in his +soul.) "But you are not a smuggler now, William. I did not mean to hurt +your feelings. All reproach of that name has long passed away from my +mind." + +William was silent, and gazed wildly upon the waters. One hand was in +his bosom, the other was in Margaret's hand, as she leaned upon his +shoulder. There might be seen a strange paleness passing over his face, +and a painful compression of his lips. A sudden start, as if +involuntary, and it was most truly so. It told of a chilliness on the +heart, that seemed to freeze the blood in his veins. He actually +trembled. + +"William, you are not well." + +"No, I am not; but a little grog, which is in the boat, will soon set me +right again." + +"Shall I run and fetch it?" + +"No, no,--wait a bit, wait a bit. Hold--I was a smuggler! Yes, you said +I was a smuggler! The world despised me! You bore the reproach of my +name! Well, Margaret, the smuggler comes home--he comes to marry you. +Will the world believe him to be altered? Will they not call you, then, +the smuggler's bride?" + +"No, William, not if you are really altered, as you say you are. I wish +you were in the British service; seamen are wanted now, and the smuggler +would soon be forgiven, when he once sailed under the flag of Old +England." + +"'Tis too late, 'tis too late, now, Margaret! I will not say I may not +ever sail under our gallant Nelson. You might persuade me to it, if you +would only sail with me to Holland, and there be married to me, +Margaret." + +"You have heard me upon this point: do not urge it any more. I have now +stolen away from duty, William, to meet you here, and I hope I shall +not be missed. Let me only hear you say you will come again soon, to +marry me at home, and I shall return to my service happy." + +"I would if I could, but I cannot." + +"Why not, William? why not?" + +"Do not ask me why. Come, Margaret, come to the boat, and share my fate. +I will be constant to you, and you shall be my counsellor." + +"Nay, William, do not urge me to forsake all my friends, and put all +this country in terror as to what has become of me. I cannot go on board +your boat. I cannot give you myself until God and my parents have given +me to you. So do not think of it; but, come again, come again!--yes, +again and again!--but come openly, in the sight of all men, and I will +be yours. I live for you only, William, and will never be another's +whilst you live." + +"But how can I live without you, Margaret? I cannot come in the way you +talk of; I tell you I cannot. Do, then, do be mine." + +"I am yours, William, and will ever be so; but it must be openly, before +all men, and upon no other terms." + +"Then it will never be!" + +"Why so?" + +"Because I am a smuggler!" + +"You have been such, but you are not so now. You have long forsaken the +gang; you are forgotten, and supposed to be dead. You may change your +name; but being changed in your life, it will only be known to me." + +"And to Barry, too, Margaret; and then to his brother, and to numbers of +others, who will know me. I was recognized this very night." + +"What, if you change your name?" + +"My name is changed, but not my nature. I am a smuggler still!" + +"No, William, no--you cannot be! You are in the service of an honest +man, though a foreigner." + +"No, Margaret, I am not. You see before you the notorious Hudson. I am a +smuggler still!" + +It was now poor Margaret's turn to tremble, and she felt more than +language can speak. She had heard of Hudson--Captain Hudson, as he was +called--but had no idea that her lover was that, or such a man. She felt +a revulsion amounting to sickness, a giddiness overcame her, and she +felt as if she must fall to the earth. Half carried, half urged, half +pulled along, she was unconsciously moving, with her eyes fixed fully +upon the boat, and approaching it, and she had no power to resist--a +sort of trance-like senselessness seemed to overpower her; and yet she +felt that hand, knew that form, and saw the waters and the boat, and had +no energy or impulse to resist. Her heart was so struck with the +deadliness of grief and despair, that the nerves had no power to obey +the will, and the will seemed but a wish to die. We cannot die when we +wish it, and it is well for us we cannot. Happy they who do not shrink +when the time comes appointedly; thrice happy they who welcome it with +joy, and hope, and love! + +Margaret revived a little before she reached the boat, and resisted. The +firm grasp of the smuggler was not, however, to be loosed. + +"You do not mean to force me away, William?" + +"I must, if you will not go." + +"I will not go." + +"You shall--you must--you cannot help it! Do not resist." + +"Shame, William, shame! Is this your love?" + +"It is, Margaret, it is. I mean you fair." + +"Your means are foul. Let me go, William! let me go!" + +"Yes: you shall go on board my boat." + +"Not with my life, William. I will go overboard!" + +"Then will I follow you; but I cannot parley longer. Come on!" + +The poor girl's struggles now became so violent, and her efforts to +escape so powerful, that Will Laud's utmost strength could not drag her +along the sand. Her fears, too, were increasing with his cruel violence; +and these fears were greatly increased by Laud giving a loud, shrill +boatswain's whistle. This awakened her to the sight of the trap into +which she had been beguiled, for, in another moment, she saw a man +spring from the boat, and hasten towards her. He came along with rapid +strides to join them, and soon, with horrid voice, exclaimed,-- + +"Your signal, Laud, is late indeed, but better late than never." + +That voice was too well known by Margaret: 'twas the hated +countryman's--'twas John Luff's. + +This fellow seized her in his arms, and, as a tiger would swing a fawn +over his back, so poor Margaret was swung over his shoulders in an +instant. The last effort a defenceless female can make is the shriek of +despair; and such a one was heard, as not only sounded through the woods +of Downham Reach, but reached the opposite shores of Woolverstone Park. + +That shriek was heard by one whose heart was too true to nature to +resist the good motives which it awakened. Young Barry, as the reader +knows, was journeying toward the gamekeeper's cottage on the cliff, and +had just entered the wood in front of that dwelling, as the piercing +shriek struck upon his ear. He sprang over the paling in an instant, and +by the broad moonlight beheld a man carrying a female towards a boat, +and the other assisting to stop her cries. He leaped down the cliff, and +seizing a strong break-water stake, which he tore up from the sand, +rushed forward to the man who carried the female. It was a good, trusty, +heart-of-oak stake which he held, and which in one moment he swung round +his head, and sent its full weight upon the hamstrings of Luff. The +fellow rolled upon the sand, and over and over rolled the poor girl into +the very waves of the Orwell. + +It was no slight work which Barry had now in hand. It was a bold deed to +attack two such daring villains, both well armed, and he with nothing +but a stake. But the consequences he neither foresaw nor dreaded; the +cause was a good one, and he left the issue to God. As quick as thought +he had already dashed one foeman to the earth; the other stood aghast, +beholding Margaret fallen into the water, and his comrade rolling on the +shore. He flew to help Margaret, and raising her up, determined not to +relinquish her, but stood opposed to the dauntless Barry. + +"Villains, release the girl!" was his exclamation. + +"It is Barry's voice!" shrieked Margaret. "Help, John, help!" + +There was a strange opposition of feeling in all the parties at these +words. The blood curdled in the veins of the smugglers, whilst it seemed +to burst with overpowering fullness upon the forehead of the young man +who now attacked them. He fought for the prize of true love--they for +revenge. The moment they heard the name uttered by the girl they seemed +to think no more about her; but the fallen man sprang up, and Laud let +Margaret go, and both rushed, like enraged wild beasts, with full force +against young Barry. He, with true heroic daring, committed himself at +once to the encounter. He was a fine athletic young man, a head taller +than either of the sailors, but odds were fearfully against him. Luff +was a stout, stiff, sturdy seaman; and Laud young, active, cool, and +desperate. + +A smuggler is seldom without a weapon of offence and defence. Luff +seized his pistol from his girdle, and fired at his brave antagonist; it +missed its mark, and the stout oak arm was not long in thundering a blow +upon his head, which again sent him sprawling upon the ground. It was +Laud's turn now to take his aim, which he did in the most cool, +determined manner, with as much ease, and as steady a hand, as if he +were firing at a holiday mark. It was a cruel aim, and rendered the +contest still more unequal. It took effect in the young man's left +shoulder, and rendered that arm useless. + +None but such a frame and such a spirit could have stood against that +pistol-shot. It made him stagger for the moment; but he had presence of +mind to ward off the next blow of a cutlass with his good oaken staff. +And now might be seen the most desperate conflict for life or death +between the rivals. Barry and Laud closed and parted, and struggled +fiercely with each other, though the former had but one arm to act upon +the defensive with. His right hand, however, was powerful enough to dash +the sword of Laud at least ten yards into the wave; and with such +dexterity did he handle his weapon, that had not Luff come again +unexpectedly to the encounter, the contest must have been speedily +terminated in favour of Barry: Luff recovered his feet again, and rushed +at Barry with such rage, that again his other pistol missed its aim. + +Barry had now to act entirely upon his own defence, with only one arm +against four. He had this advantage, however, that they had no time to +load their pistols, and had only their short butt-ends to fight with, +whilst he had a good long arm. + +But assistance--unexpected assistance--was at hand. A tall, gaunt figure +strode along the strand, armed with a long fisherman's pike, or hook, a +weapon commonly used to take codfish off the fishing-lines. His was a +sinewy arm, which few could resist or disable. + +When such a man was aroused, harmless and peaceable as was his general +character, his appearance became truly terrific; and his firm and steady +step, and determined resolution, told that he was a soldier of cool +courage, not easily to be beaten. + +It was old Colson, or poor Robinson Crusoe, who, as it has been stated, +was making his way with fish up the Orwell. + +He and young Barry, now side by side, beat back the smugglers to their +boat. Desperate was the contest; but there was no opposing the +unearthly-looking being, with his bones, perforated plates, and charms +dangling about his person. Well was it that he came so opportunely, for +without his help the fate of young Barry had been sealed for ever. It +was bad enough as it was. The smugglers retreated, and jumped into their +boat. Laud, seizing a carabine, levelled it at Barry, whilst Luff +pushed off the boat from the shore. + +"Let fly at him, Will! let fly at him! Revenge yourself and my fall!" + +A flash and loud explosion followed this advice. The smoke cleared off +in a second, and the pirates saw but the stately form of Robin standing +upon the shore. Young Barry--the generous, brave, and faithful +Barry--lay stretched upon the sand. + +Meantime Margaret had escaped. She had reached the Priory Farm; and +rushing into the room where the harvest-men were assembled, fell down +exhausted, with just strength of voice to say, "Fly--fly--fly to the +shore! Barry will be murdered!" + +The gamekeeper was off before Margaret arrived, having heard the report +of the pistols; and he went into the wood. The young men ran off to the +shore, and soon found the old fisherman supporting the head of the poor +young man. The blood was flowing fast from his wounds, and he was in a +swoon like death, though his heart beat, and he breathed painfully. They +formed a double row; they lifted him up, and carried him along as gently +as they could; but the poor fellow groaned with the agony of his +shattered arm and wounded side. + +Robin followed them, muttering curses against the foul fiend, and every +moment pointing to the departing boat of the smugglers with a clenched +fist, exclaiming, "The foul fiend be with you! He'll consume you yet, ye +cowards!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DISAPPOINTMENT + + +There is a sad and fearful void in the disappointed heart. + +Poor Margaret! but one short hour past and thy prospects were as bright +as the broad moonlight that shone upon thy path. Yea, they were as +bright to thine eye as that beautiful orb in the most brilliant night; +for thy love was pure, true, and abiding. + +How great was the reverse our heroine experienced when she quitted her +lover, and returned to the Priory Farm worse than desolate! Had she +never seen him again, _her_ disappointment could not have been so great. +Time might have taught her to consider him lost at sea, or taken by the +enemy, or killed in battle, or as having died a natural death. But as it +was, the tide had turned so suddenly; the change from the full flow to +the very lowest ebb was as instantaneous as if some gulf had swallowed +up the river, and left the channel dry. Clouds, black clouds intervened +between her and her lover. She had received a blight to all her hopes, +save one, and that was the last and best that any one could cleave to; +it was, "that God would change his heart, and one day make him see the +error of his way." + +She little thought how distant that day was. But it seemed that her +sister's words were at this time true: "Margaret, you will never marry +William Laud." + +Margaret was in the little parlour of the Priory Farm, in all the agony +of terror and the perturbation of confessing her faults to her master +and mistress, when the murmur of returning voices told that the good +farmer's men were coming from the shore. Her soul was so full--her heart +so anxious--her confession so open, so sincere--that even they who were +most angry with her could not find it in their hearts to be angry and +severe towards her at such a moment of distress. She was so full of +terror that she dared not to stir; she had no power to rise and make +inquiries upon the dreadful point upon which she wished to be most +satisfied. She heard the footsteps approach; and as the parlour-door +stood open, looking into the kitchen, she saw the young men bringing in +the heavy body of the youth, to whom, perhaps, she then owed her +existence; for her resolution had been formed, to have plunged into the +waves sooner than be taken away, against her will, by the smugglers. +Certainly she owed her present safety to the intrepid boldness of that +wounded man. She saw them bring him into the kitchen, pale, bloody, and, +as she first thought, lifeless; but a heavy groan, as they laid him down +upon the floor, by the fire, made her start up, and feel the first +spring of joy in her desponding heart, that he was not murdered. But the +joy that Laud was not his murderer was as great as that the youth was +not dead. + +Her mistress's voice, calling to bring water and assist her, restored +her to a consciousness of her duties. Here might be seen the benefit of +active employment in diverting her mind from its most painful feelings, +rousing it to think, and turning it away from tormenting itself. + +The surgeon was sent for immediately; and after a short delay in +preparing a bed in a room by itself, the young man was carried up by his +companions. Never was there a more melancholy change from the mirth of +"harvest-home," to the misery of a house of woe. To look into that +kitchen, which so shortly before was resounding with the cheerful voices +of merriment, and to see the long faces, to hear the whispers, and the +questions, and the remarks made upon the circumstances, presented a +scene so different and so painful, that description would fail to +express it. There sat the ancient fisherman, silent and thoughtful, his +left hand upon his forehead, and his right clutched convulsively with +his inward emotion. There stood the foreman of the field, with his +fellow-labourers, anxious to know who it was that had given the wound; +for they had as yet only been told that two men in a boat had fired upon +Barry, and wounded him. + +Meanwhile the old fisherman, who had witnessed the scene, was so +absorbed in his own reflections, that he did not seem disposed +voluntarily to afford them any information. + +At last one of them addressed Robin. + +"Who was the fellow that fired the gun, Robin?" + +"The foul fiend!" said Robin; "I saw him in the boat." + +"What foul fiend? was he devil or man?" + +"He was a demon, who left me for a moment to torment others. I knew +mischief would come of him as soon as he left me. He is always stirring +up infernal broils; and would bring a host of enemies against me, if it +were not for this charm. Look here," and taking from his side a +perforated bone, he held it up, saying, "this is the rib of Margery +Beddingfield, who was gibbeted on Rushmere Heath for the murder of her +husband. When I show him this, he will soon be off. This is so strong a +spell, he cannot touch me. But look! there he is! there he is!" and the +startled hinds closed round their lord, and looked fearfully in the +direction of the door, to see if the murderer was coming. + +"Aye, look at this, thou false fiend! Dost thou remember how thou didst +stir up Margery, and Richard Ringe of Sternfield, her paramour, to +murder John Beddingfield, the farmer, near Saxmundham? Thou couldst +inflame their hot young blood to mischief; but what dost thou come here +for? Off! off, I say! Look here! thou hadst better go to the officers of +justice. Ha! ha! he is gone!" and the old man smiled again, as if he had +defeated his foe, and was congratulating himself on the victory. + +These things were very unsatisfactory to the minds of these +plain-thinking countrymen. They again and again put questions to him, +but could get no other answers than incoherences about the foul fiend. + +"But what had Margaret Catchpole to do with it?" + +"Ask her yourself: the foul fiend always finds an easier prey in a +woman." + +At this time Margaret came into the room; and ignorant as she herself +was of Robin's efficient aid, she could not help asking him if he had +seen the fight. + +"Did _you_ see it, young woman? I saw you long before I saw the fight." + +Margaret did not ask any more questions; for in another minute several +asked her who had been fighting, what it was for, and what she had to do +with it. She knew too well to speak would be to betray herself; and she +was glad to find they were in ignorance of the real perpetrator of the +deed. She was called into the parlour just then, and rejoiced to escape +the inquisitive demands of her fellow-servants. + +"That's a clever girl," said old Robin, as she left the +kitchen,--"that's a clever girl. Which of you boys would like her for a +wife?" + +"Ask Will Simpson," said a sly fellow. + +"Ask poor Jack Barry," said another; "'tis my belief Jack got his blow +from a rival in Margaret's love." + +"What fiend told you that, young man? 'Tis seldom any of 'em speak the +truth? But, perhaps, you know who he is that rivals Jack?" + +"No, not I--not I. I know who he would be, if he was alive; and just the +sort of fellow, too, to give Jack a nab. But he's dead and gone long +ago, and maybe his bones are at the bottom of the sea, for he was killed +on Felixstowe beach." + +"Who's he? who's he?" + +"Why, Will Laud, the smuggler. Don't you know him, Robin?" + +"Yes; but I never knew that he was dead." + +"Oh, yes, he's dead enough. I saw a fellow who told me he helped to bury +him in the sands at the foot of the cliff." + +"Then the foul fiend has brought him back to life again, for I have seen +him many times; and I spoke to him this very night, and he to me. Not +only so, I know him well; and I wish all the fiends had him before he +had given that brave lad his death-blow." + +"What! Will Laud? you do not mean to say Will Laud was on the shore +to-night?" + +"Ask Margaret Catchpole: she can tell you as much as I." + +Margaret returned just as this was said; and Will Simpson, perhaps as +much in spite (for Margaret had upon some occasion of his rudeness given +him such a specimen of her dexterity with a frying-pan, as left a +memorial on his head not easily to be forgotten or forgiven) as for +inquisitiveness, put this question-- + +"I say, Peggy, who met you upon the shore to-night, eh?" + +"What's that to you? A better man than you." + +"Perhaps a better Will, too; eh, Peggy? One who will have his will of +you, too, before you die, and tame you, my dear." + +"Perhaps he may; and should it be so, he will make a 'will o' the wisp' +of you, Simpson." + +"He'll be hanged first, Peggy, take my word for that. He'll not be shot, +nor drowned: he's born to be hanged." + +"And what are you born for, you coward, that, at such a time as this, +you should be quarrelling with me?" + +"I'm born to be his informer; and, before long, I'll have you both up +before the Squire, for all this piece of work." + +Margaret did not like this banter; it looked as if they already knew +that Will Laud was the intruder. She was somewhat less ready at her +replies than usual, and felt too great a fear that she might commit +herself. She tried, therefore, to turn the subject. + +"My master, Robin, desires me to give you some supper." + +"Thank your master, but I have had mine; and, but that I hoped to hear +what the doctor said to the poor young man upstairs, I should long ago +have been on board my boat." + +The greatest cowards are not easily silenced when they find themselves +able to browbeat an adversary with impunity, and that adversary a woman. + +"Well, Margaret, if you won't tell me, I'll tell you whom you met upon +the shore. You met one whom Robin says the foul fiend has raised to life +again." + +Margaret turned very pale, and staggered to a chair. But Simpson still +went on. + +"O Peggy, Peggy, you have a guilty face! I don't wonder at your feeling +shame. You've managed to hide the smuggler, have you? If you don't take +care, both you and Will Laud will come to a bad end." + +Margaret rushed into the parlour, and fell at her master's feet, +imploring him to interfere and stop the reproaches of his men, who were +treating her in a way she did not deserve. Her mistress made her sit +down in the keeping-room; and, speaking a few words to her husband, he +left them. He remonstrated with his men, and was in the act of insisting +upon their departure to their homes, as Dr. Stebbing arrived. He was +desired at once to go into the parlour; and there he recognized that +high-spirited girl who, in the cause of humanity, had, in her childhood, +galloped the pony to Ipswich for his aid. She rose and curtseyed; but +her feet gave way under her, and she sank to the floor. The memory of +her dear sister, the doctor's former patient, her own happiness at that +time, and her present misery, were too much for her to bear, and she was +quite overcome. The good doctor raised her up, and, with his cheerful +voice, tried, in his usual kind way, to comfort her. + +"Come, come, my girl, what's the matter? what's the matter? Are you the +patient I'm come all this way to see? I thought I was sent for to see a +young man. But what's the matter with you? Ah! is it so, my lassie?" +(for his sagacity gave him a glimpse of the truth). "Come, cheer up, +cheer up; we'll go and see the lad. I dare say he'll soon be better. +Cheer up, cheer up." + +"Come, my good sir, let us have a light, and go upstairs," said the +doctor to the master of the house. "Now, my dear, go and fetch us a +towel and some warm water. Come, bestir yourself; I know it will do you +good." + +This was the best medicine for Margaret, with whom to be told to do +anything, and not to go and do it, was almost an impossibility, so much +had she been accustomed to obey. + +All that could be done for the youth was to lay him in as easy a posture +as possible; for he was in too much agony even to have his clothes +removed. One of his companions sat and wiped the cold perspiration from +his brows, whilst another washed his hands and face. He breathed quickly +and heavily, with shuddering fits that shook the bed violently, and he +was evidently in great pain. + +"Come, my lads, come, lend me a hand--let us see--let us see! where is +the hurt?--where is the wound?--what's the lad's name?" + +"John Barry, sir." + +"John, my lad, let's look at you!" but John took no notice of the +doctor. + +"I think, sir, his arm is broke, for it dangled by his side all the way +we carried him." + +"Let us see, my boy, let us see! 'Tis broken! high up too, too high up. +But we must strip him. Gently there--gently there, my lad"; and the +groans of the poor fellow told his agony. The work was done with great +care, and by slow degrees. But it was done, and then the frightful +nature of his wounds became conspicuous: a gunshot wound from the middle +of the arm to the shoulder. The ball had struck the humerus, and broken +it, glanced over the head of it, and passed between the scapula and +clavicle, and it might be easily felt lying in the external portion of +the trapezian muscle. It was so near the skin that it was easily +extracted; the difficulty was to get away those parts of the clothing +which had been carried into the wound. Such was the effect of the first +shot. + +The second was the most severe. It had pierced through the long dorsal +muscle, and the ball lay directly against the lumbar vertebrae. This +wound was the more agonizing because it had pierced the strongest +muscles of the human frame, and bruised the stoutest part of the +backbone. + +After the doctor had examined his wounds and ascertained that they were +of the most serious nature, he said-- + +"This will be a work of time. Get some stimulants--put warm flannels on +his feet--his extremities are icy cold. He has had violent exertion--all +his muscles are hard and stiff. Put his hands in warm water. Wash his +temples with warm vinegar. There, there; come, my poor fellow, come; +consciousness will soon return." + +He opened his eyes, looked at the doctor, then at his master, then at +his friends, and at last at Margaret, who was putting warm flannels to +his feet. He looked earnestly at her, spoke not, but a tear stole down +his face as he closed his eyes again. + +His wounds were now probed, cleaned, and dressed, as carefully as if he +had been one of the wealthiest squires or nobles of the land, and he was +then left for the night, attended by two of his fellow-servants, in case +he should need assistance or restraint. + +"There, there, good-night, John, good-night. I think you'll do now. +Come, come, he feels a little easier. He breathes better"; and patting +his cheeks in his good-humoured way, Dr. Stebbing left him, and went +down into the parlour. + +There is always a little chit-chat with the doctor after the usual +labour of his profession is over, and he is quietly seated with the +family. It is then he judges of what is best for his patient, for at +such times the secrets of most families come forth; and if love or law, +if loss of stock or money, if cruelties, injuries, or any causes +whatever have been acting upon the patient's mind, the doctor is sure to +be made the confidant. + +If the faculty could find out the means of supplying all their invalids +with such things as they really wanted, they would soon get well, but +in default of such means medicine and good advice--very necessary +articles in their way--are supplies in which the faculty seldom fail. + +"Doctor, will you take anything to-night? you have had a cold ride, and +will have another on your way home--shall my mistress give you anything +warm?" + +"I care not if she does. A little nutmeg in a little warm +brandy-and-water, and just one slice of your nice harvest-cake, and I +shall be comfortable." + +The first question asked of the doctor was, "What he thought of his +patient?" + +"Why, he has got an ugly wound that will take months to heal. He will +not be able to be moved for six or seven weeks. Where do his parents +live?" + +"At Levington," was the reply. "His father is tolerably well to do in +the world, though he has a large family. I have not a steadier young man +on my premises, nor a quieter, soberer, or better behaved lad, or a +better workman belonging to me." + +"So much the better. But what does the old fisherman do in the kitchen? +I thought he never sat down in any house, but always kept to his boat?" + +"He is only waiting to speak to you, doctor. At least, he said he should +stop to hear your report." + +"I should like to have one word with him." + +"I'll go and tell him so"; and off trotted the worthy farmer for Robin, +with whom he soon returned, and then, beckoning to his wife, they left +him and the doctor alone together. + +"Well, Robin, what an odd fish you are! I can never persuade you to come +into my kitchen, and here you are, hail fellow well met, with the +farmer's men at Harvest-Home. How is this, Robin? I shall tell my +daughter of you, and leave her to set some of your foul fiends to work +upon you." + +"They've been at work pretty well to-night, doctor, or else I'm wofully +mistaken. One of 'em has done a pretty job of mischief here; and it's +well if he don't do more before he's done." + +The doctor understood his dialect, and knew how to get out of him what +he wanted. + +"Who did the foul fiend work upon? who was his victim?" + +"He left my boat, and went aboard Will Laud's." + +"What! the smuggler? I thought he was shot long ago." + +"So others thought, but not I; for I saw him and a sturdy villain of his +pass my boat, with all their sails set; and when my Infernal Broiler +left me, and sat grinning on his mast, I knew he was up to mischief." + +"What mischief, Robin?" + +"Why, look ye, doctor; you must ha' seen the mischief. Ha'en't you +dressed the young man's wounds?" + +"Yes, Robin; but how came your imp to be the cause of this?" + +"Nay, that you must ask the girl here; for seldom do my imps fail to +make mischief among the sex." + +"Was it a love affair?" + +"Nay, it didn't appear much o' that." And here Robin, in his quaint +language, well understood by the doctor, told his own tale as it +happened. + +"Well, Robin, all I can say is, that, but for you, one of the finest +young fellows in the land would have lost his life; and there's a guinea +for you." + +"No, no, master; give me a guinea for my fish, but don't give me a +guinea for doing no more than I ought to do. Give it to the poor boy for +loss of time. I've got some good fish, and you may have some to-morrow +morning; but the fiends would torment me all night, if I went to my +hammock with a guinea for my reward. No, doctor, no. I thank you, too; +but tell me the boy will do well, and I'm well paid for my pains." + +"He will do well, I think, Robin, if his mind be not disturbed." + +The doctor felt, as perhaps the reader will, that the honest old +fisherman, bewitched and bewildered as he was, had more good feeling +about him than many a man of clearer head and a less scrupulous +conscience, who would have crept along the mud to pick up a guinea for +his dirty pocket. + +"Well, well, my boy, I shall not find such an odd fish in your boat as +your own self. You may bring up your basket to my door, and my daughter +will deal with you. Instead of a guinea, I must give you any charm that +you can ask me for." + +"Keep to that, doctor, and I'll ask you soon to give me one that I stand +much in need of, and which you only can furnish me with. You are surgeon +to the gaol, and I want something out of that place. I'll tell you, one +of these days, what it is. My boat is now high and dry upon the shore. +You might ask some of the landsmen here to lend me a hand to get her +off. I shall be in Ipswich as soon as yourself." + +No sooner was the request made than it was granted; and Robin and five +or six good stout fellows were on the shore, and soon shoved the boat +off, which, quicker than the men could walk upon the sand, moved on her +native element to the well-timed stroke of the able fisherman. + +The doctor's first introduction to the flying Margaret is well known to +the reader. His knowledge of her under those circumstances made him feel +for her; but there were some questions he wished to put to her, as his +curiosity had been excited by what Robin had revealed. The farmer had +already given him some hint about her confessions; but the doctor wanted +to find out whether, after what had taken place that night, the tide of +her affections might not have turned a little toward his patient. It was +a delicate question to ask, but he thought he would find it out by +another plan; so he desired to see Margaret in the parlour before he +left the house. + +"I did not half like your look, my girl, when I first saw you to-night. +Come hither; let me feel your pulse: let me look at your tongue. Your +pulse is quick, and you've some fever hanging about you." + +"I thank you, sir, I shall be better to-morrow. I'm very sorry for what +has happened." + +"You could not help it, my girl--you could not help it; it was not your +fault." + +"I don't know that, sir,--I don't know that. I blame myself much; +but--but--" + +"But you don't like to blame anybody else, Margaret; I know you." + +"Well, sir, that's the truth; but yet he was to blame." + +"Who? Barry?" + +"No, sir, no; but he who shot him." + +"Yes, he was a cowardly fellow. What induced him to do it?" + +"Because Barry's brother shot _him_. I suspect he was excited at the +remembrance of his own sufferings, and urged on to desperation by the +fellow that was with him; and, in a moment of madness, thought to +revenge himself." + +"This was not right, Margaret; it was still very cowardly." + +"Why, yes, it was; but--but, I do not defend him, sir." + +"What then, Margaret? what then?" + +"Why, I was to blame, sir!" + +"Why so?" + +"Because I told him Barry loved me, sir." + +"Ho, ho! a little jealousy, was it? Was it so, Margaret? Well, well, he +will be more jealous now." + +"I'm sorry for it, sir. Had I not thought he would have known my +preference for him, I should not have told him this. It is this I blame +myself for, as much as I do him. I hope Barry will do well, sir." + +"Your hopes may be disappointed, Margaret. His is a very bad case; and, +if he dies, Will Laud will be hanged." + +"Then you know all, sir? Oh, pray save him if you can, sir!" + +"Who?" + +"John Barry, sir,--John Barry." + +"Margaret, do you love him?" + +"No, sir; yes--yes, sir. I think he is a very good young man, and he +would be a great loss to his parents." + +"More so than to you, my girl?" + +"Oh, yes, sir, yes. I'm sure I wish him well, and shall always feel +grateful to him for his kindness to me. I do hope he will recover, sir, +for Laud's sake." + +This was enough; the doctor now knew all. He saw that his patient was in +love with Margaret, but that Margaret loved another. He was in +possession of the whole secret. He promised to do all he could; he +dismissed the girl; and, after a few minutes' further chat with the +master and mistress of the house, and strongly advising them to send for +Barry's parents in the morning, he took his leave. His little bay pony +soon rattled up Gainsborough's Lane, through the open fields towards the +Race-course, and over Bishop's Hill, to the town of Ipswich. + +Barry's parents were not long in coming to their son, nor long in +learning the real state both of his mind and body. It is the happiest +time to die when a parent's tender care is round you. Then the agony of +suffering is greatly relieved, and the heart can open its most inward +thoughts. It turns, with such filial respect and thankfulness, towards +those whom it does not like to grieve, but who are always the most +quick-sighted to see our wants and to relieve our distresses. So gentle +is a mother's love--so delicate, so soothing, so healing to the youthful +mind, that nature almost decays with pleasure before her soft +attentions. Nor is a father's manliness and feeling less sensibly +experienced at such a time. He may not have a woman's gentleness, but he +has a firmness and a quietness of action which are seldom seen at other +times, and which make a sick room seem more calm and sufferable. He has +quite as deep feeling, though it is more subdued. Who that ever has been +ill in his youth, and has seen the kindness of parental love, but has +thought that he never could die happier than when his fond parents were +near him? + +So thought young Barry when his parents were by his side; and not only +thought so, but plainly told them that he wished to die. + +"I hope not yet, my boy," said his father. "The young sapling may get a +blight, but it soon recovers, and springs up vigorously; but the old +trees naturally decay. I hope to go first, my boy." + +"Yes, father, such may be your hope and natural expectation; but Heaven +avert it! You have others to live for; may I never live to see your +death!" + +"Come, John, do not give way to such feelings. You know not yet what the +good God may have in store for you." + +"He has, indeed, been good to me, father, and has left me nothing more +to wish for in this world." + +"Perhaps not for your own benefit, John; but we are not always to die +just when we wish it. Neither are we to live merely for ourselves. We +are called upon to live for others; and more may be expected of us on +this account than upon our own. We are not to be such selfish beings as +to think, 'The wind blows only for our own mill.'" + +"I meant not to find fault, father; but I am disappointed, and feel +therefore useless." + +"I know your disappointment, boy; but I would not have you take it so to +heart as to let it prey upon your spirits. There are others far better +and more worthy of you, who may esteem you, John, for your good conduct +and character; and one of such may make you an excellent companion for +life." + +"Father, I know I am not so wise as you are. I have not your experience; +yet this I feel and say, that I hope you will never find fault with that +poor girl." + +"I will not, John, in your presence; but how can a father help feeling +hurt and angry with a girl who prefers a smuggler to an honest man?" + +"That may or may not be a fault; but you just now told me we should live +for others, and not be so selfish as to think only of ourselves. Now, I +do believe that Margaret lives only in the hope that Will Laud will +become an altered man." + +"He never will! A lawless villain, who will revenge a blow upon the +innocent hand that never gave it, has a heart too reprobate and stony +ever to change." + +"You will not say it is impossible?" + +"I did not mean to say it is a thing impossible with God; but you seemed +to think that, by Margaret's influence, such a change might be effected. +This, I say, will never be. Laud may influence her, and may corrupt her +mind; but, take my word for it, the man whose love is swallowed up in +the violence of passion, as his is, will never produce anything good. He +will be a selfish villain even towards the poor unfortunate victim of +his choice." + +"Oh, father, would that you could persuade Margaret of this! She is +indeed a good girl, and a warm-hearted one; and, had she received any +education, would have been as good and respectable as my own dear +mother." + +"All this may be, John; but, if I could persuade you out of this fit of +fancy, I then might have hope that I should have some power of +persuasion with Margaret. Till then I shall stand no chance. For, if I +cannot root the weeds out of my own ground, how shall I be fit to work +for others?" + +The young man sighed deeply, and could answer no more. He felt the force +of the superior wisdom of his father; and, owning to himself that there +was much truth in the remark, felt how difficult it would indeed be to +conquer in his own heart his hopeless attachment. + +In due time, Barry's wounds progressed towards recovery, and it was +agreed among his fellow-labourers that, before the cold weather should +set in, they would form a corps for carrying him home to Levington. +Twelve undertook the task; and, one fine October day, they managed to +place him and his bed upon a frame, made for the occasion, to which were +attached shoulder-pieces, and so conveyed him to his father's residence, +where all things were made ready by his mother's hand for his +reception. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +EVIL WAYS + + +Onward went the boat to the haven at the mouth of the river, and the two +guilty souls in her felt that they had narrowly escaped capture, and +that, if the law of the land should ever lay hold upon them, they would +both have to rue the foul deed they had committed. But the law of the +land had long been set at defiance by them; and they owned none but +those of the wind and weather, which compelled them to run for foreign +ports, and to slink into those of their own country at the dead of +night. + +After various congratulations upon their luck in getting off, and making +many remarks upon the late encounter, they turned to their duties as +sailors, kept their boat trim, and scudded along, with all sails set, +toward the _Alde_, which now lay in the shade of Felixstowe Cliff, +moored, as if waiting wind and tide to carry her up the river. They were +well acquainted with the spot, and bore away through the bright +moonlight, reached the mouth of the river, and were at length lifted up +by the rolling waves of old Ocean, which came tumbling in from the +harbour's mouth. + +"The light burns low by the water's edge, and is hidden from the +sentinel on Landguard Fort. All's right; we shall be on board +presently." + +Soon did they run along the side of the dark cutter; and giving the +signal, "Aldeburgh", were well understood by the dark-looking sailor who +kept watch upon the forecastle of the ship. All was right; and when the +captain came on board, all hands were had up, the sails quickly set, and +the anchor weighed. Luff took the helm, the captain retired to his +cabin, and in a short time the boat was hoisted in, and away they dashed +to sea. + +The dark dreams of the captain were mingled with the visions of his +past failure, and disturbed with the jealousy and hatred of all the +Barrys. The phosphoric lights upon the sea, as the vessel glided through +the waves, made it look like a boiling ocean of flame, like burning +waters; and the spray which the waves gave off resembled smoke. They +were fiery spirits who lived on board that vessel, as ardent as the +liquid flame they bore in their tubs, and about as productive of good. +Could the history of every one on board the _Alde_ be told, it would +make the blood curdle in the veins of many a stout landsman. They were +pirates as well as smugglers. Secrecy and crime went hand-in-hand with +them. Daylight and honesty were things scarcely known amongst them. + +The chief employer of these men lived, as the reader knows, in tolerable +repute, sometimes at one place, sometimes at another. He had many +vessels at sea, and Captain Bargood was as well known on the opposite +side of the German Ocean as on this. He accumulated riches, but he never +enjoyed them. He lived in a kind of terror, which those only who have +felt it can describe. He outlived, however, all his ships and all his +ships' companies; and looked, to the day of his death, an old +weather-beaten log, which had outstood storms and tempests, and come +ashore at last to be consumed. He prided himself, in his old days, upon +the many daring captains he had made, and the manner in which he had +secretly commanded them. He had a regular register of their appointments +and their course, how many trips each ship had taken, how she paid, how +she was lost or taken, and what became of her and her crew. That fearful +log-book could tell of many a horrid tale. It would also serve to show +the enormous extent of illicit traffic carried on at that period by one +man alone. + +We must now return to the _Alde_. While dashing through the sea, past +the sand-bank, or bar, at the mouth of the Deben, those on board saw a +solitary light burning in Ramsholt Church, a sign that she might send a +boat on shore in safety. Luff undertook to go. He did so, and found a +messenger from Captain Bargood to land the cargo at the Eastern Cliff, +as the coastguard had received information that a run was going to take +place at Sizewell Gap, and they had therefore drawn away their men, that +their force at that point might be strong enough. + +The work was soon done, and the desperate crew betook themselves to the +cave, to spend a night of revel and carouse, such as spirits like theirs +only could delight in. + +To the surprise of many, Will Laud remained on board, and preferred +taking a cruise, and coming in again the following night for the ship's +company. The fact, however, was, that he was afraid of the land. The +consciousness of his guilt, and the fear of the revenge of Barry, should +the coast-guard hear of his attack upon young Barry, the brother, acted +upon his nerves, and made him think himself safe only on the broad sea. + +A certain number of men always remained on board to take the vessel out +of sight of the land until the night, and then only were these +free-traders able to near the shore. The lives of these men were always +in jeopardy, and none of them ever turned out good husbands or friends. +When they were compelled to leave off the contraband traffic, they +generally took to poaching, and led fearful and miserable lives; which, +if traced to the close, would generally be found to end in sorrow, if +not in the extremity of horror. + +John Luff had an interview with Captain Bargood, and then told him of +Will Laud's awkward situation upon the banks of the Orwell. + +"A lucky fellow to escape as he did!" exclaimed Bargood. "He might have +been at this moment in Ipswich gaol, and from thence he would only have +escaped through the hangman's hands." + +"We must keep him out of the way, sir. We must again report him killed, +and change his name from Hudson. He is already known as Will Laud, and +his fame will spread along the shore." + +"Well, he is a lucky fellow. He should go round the world. I'll send +him, ship and crew, a good long voyage. Something may be done in the +fur-trade this winter. I have received a notice that I might send a +ship, and cheat the Hudson's Bay Company of a good cargo of skins. What +shall we dub the captain?" + +"Let's call him Captain Cook; I'll tell the crew it's your desire to +have the captain honoured for his success by giving him the title of the +great navigator." + +"That will do, John--that will do. Take these orders to Captain Cook. +Give these presents to the men. Tell them to disperse themselves upon a +visit to their friends, and meet again at the Cliff on the 12th of next +month, for the purpose of making a long voyage. In the meantime do you +and the captain contrive to get the ship into friendly quarters abroad, +and if you like to run ashore yourselves, there is my cottage at Butley +Moor, and you can take possession of it. But keep yourselves quiet. Five +of the crew belong to Butley, and I know what they will be up to. Do not +let Captain Cook go up the Orwell again, if you can help it, and steer +clear of the coastguard." + +"Aye, aye, master, I'll manage"; and, leaving the old commodore, he +returned to the cave, and reached it at the precise moment when the +hardy fellows were drinking "Long life to Jack Luff!" + +"I'm just come in time, boys, to make you all return thanks instead of +me. I wish you all long life and good luck. I've got you all near three +weeks' run ashore. So here's your healths! But I say, boys, the +commodore approves our young captain, and has appointed him a good +voyage next turn; and as he is to sail across the Atlantic, he wills +that you all should join in calling him Captain Cook." + +"With all our hearts! With all our hearts!" exclaimed several of the +crew. "But what were you saying about the three weeks' run?" + +"Why, that you must all be here by the 12th of October. In the meantime, +if you want to see me or the captain, you will find us after next week +at the green-windowed cottage at Butley. Till then, my boys, follow +your own fun. Here's your pay, and a present besides for each." + +A noisy shout issued through that dark and dreary cavern. They were not +long in obeying their employer's orders. By twos and threes they +dispersed, some to Boyton, some to Butley, some to Shottisham, Ramsholt, +Bawdsey, Hollesley, Felixstowe, one or two as far as Trimley, Nacton, +and Ipswich. + +The country was too hot for some of them, who, being suspected of being +concerned in the attack made upon young Barry, were looked after in +order to be prosecuted for attempt at murder. All pains had been taken; +rewards offered, their persons described; and so nearly did some of the +crew resemble the description of their companions, that they had to cut +their cables, and run for the furthest port in safety. John Luff and the +captain took up their quarters again by Butley Moor, and employed +themselves, as before, in the dangers, and to them familiar sports, of +poaching. + +The 12th of October came, and the smugglers returned to their places of +meeting, and the captain and his mate met them at the cave. Two only did +not come to the muster, and these two were always suspected of being +rather "shy cocks." + +"I say, captain," said one of the men, "I had like to have suffered for +you, and Tim Lester for Jack Luff. Two fellows laid an information +against us, and swore that we were the men who attempted to murder young +Barry. The hundred pounds' reward would have made them stick to it as +close as a nor'-wester to the skin. We cut our cables, and ran off and +escaped. The country around is hot enough after you both, so the sooner +we are on board the better." + +Accordingly, stores were soon shipped, anchors, cables, spars, and +rigging carried on board, orders given, and "far, far at sea they +steered their course." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE PARTING + + +Unaffected was the joy with which the parents and family of young Barry +received their brave son into their peaceful cot. The good miller and +his wife welcomed the pale and dejected youth with that quiet, composed, +and affectionate interest which at once soothes and comforts a sick +soul. + +The young man had more upon his mind than he chose to speak of, and a +heavy weight upon his spirits, which not all the cheerfulness of his +brothers and sisters and parents could allay. His wounds gradually +healed; but his weakness continued, and he appeared to be suffering some +internal torture which prevented his sleeping at night. He read, and +tried to improve his mind; but it availed nothing. His sisters, too, +sought every opportunity to afford him diversion; but the languid smile +and forced expression of thankfulness told that, although he felt +grateful, he did not relish their mirth. He looked intently into the +newspaper, especially into all matters connected with the coast and +coastguard; and when he read of any skirmish with the smugglers, he was +feverishly anxious to know who they were. He also expressed a particular +wish to see his brother Edward. + +Though the miller could not say exactly when Edward might be expected +home, he resolved to send to the stations where he might be found, and +urge him to obtain leave of absence. + +It was not long before that leave was given, and he returned to visit +his parents and his invalid brother. The young men mutually rejoiced to +see each other, and were not long in comparing notes upon their separate +adventures. + +"I prophesy I shall catch him one of these days," said Ned; "and if I +do, he shall never remember his last escape. We know him well when we +see him, but the fellow changes his name as often as he does his place, +so that our information is frequently contradictory. If once I have a +chance of changing shots with him again, Jack, he shall pay me for those +cowardly wounds in your side." + +"Nay, Ned, I had rather that the sea swallowed him up, than that you +should shoot him." + +"How then would you know he was dead, Jack? His ship might be lost, and +the wreck driven on shore; but we should not know it, and he might or +might not escape. There's nothing like a bullet for certainty." + +"But you would know him, if you saw his body cast ashore?" + +"Yes, that I should; and I would soon let you know it, too." + +"Well, if I must hope for his destruction, I would rather it were in +this way than by your hand." + +"For your sake, Jack, I should be satisfied with it so; but, for my own +part, I have no compunction in shooting a desperado like him, who lives +upon the vitals of others, and fights against his king and country, and +sets at defiance all laws, human and divine. He would kill any man that +opposed his nefarious traffic; and, as I am one that he has sworn to +attack by land or by sea, whether in war or peace, I see no reason why I +should not defend your life and my own, even though it may cost the +taking away of his." + +The sufferer did not argue the point any further; and especially as +there were reasons of a private nature which had a powerful influence +upon his mind. He revived very much during his brother's stay, and +seemed to be more cheerful than at any former period of his illness. He +even assisted in the labours of the mill, and by little and little began +to pick up strength. His brother's leave of absence, however, expired; +and the two were seen to walk away together over the hill, arm-in-arm, +in the most earnest and deep conversation. + +"Never fear, Jack; I will keep your secret honestly, and render you all +the help in my power. I will let you know our movements." + +"And take care of yourself, Ned, and do not risk your life for my sake. +If you should fall, what should I feel?" + +"I hope you would feel that I fell in a good cause, brother. At least, I +do feel it so myself, or I should not be a happy man. No man can be +happy, John, who even thinks that he is doing wrong." + +"God preserve you, dear brother! Farewell!" + +The two brothers parted, one to his duties at Dunwich, where his station +then was, the other to his home and thoughts. + +Anticipation is the greatest quickener of mortal spirits. There is +something so lively in the expectation of things upon which the heart is +fixed, that even time passes quickly by during the period in which hope +is so vivid. But there is a point at which the tide turns, and as +gradually operates in a reverse manner, when the heart sickens, +desponds, and grows gloomy. + +Young Barry returned from his parting walk with his brother in high +spirits, elated with hope, and better both in mind and body. He assisted +his father in his work, and was at times playful with his sisters. So +much did his health improve at this time, that his parents began to hope +that the ensuing spring would see him perfectly restored. + +And where, all this time, was she, the unfortunate cause of all his +misery, and the most unintentional marplot in this history? She was as +great a sufferer as he could possibly be. Nothing could equal her +distress of mind at the turn affairs had taken. A bodily affliction +might have proved a comfort to her. She felt, after all that had taken +place, that the indulgence of her kind master and mistress should be +rewarded with more than usual exertions on her part. She had stirring +employment for her hands, as well as much exertion for her mind. + +It would have been a pleasant thing for her could she have been absent +when the sharp gibes of her fellow-servants would torment her with +insinuations. There is dreadful cruelty in that man's heart who delights +to torment a creature which cannot defend itself. Poor Margaret felt +that she had no defence to set up, and no friend to defend her. To hear +the hopes expressed that Laud might be soon taken, and the reward talked +of for his apprehension, and the wishes expressed by some that they +might have the opportunity of handling the cash: these things, coming +from those whom she met every day, made her present position very +uncomfortable. + +More than once, one would announce at dinner-time that the smuggler had +been seen on shore and captured. Again, it was stated that he was taken +in an open boat at sea. And if a sailor chanced to call at the house, +Margaret's heart was in a flutter lest he should be seen by some of the +men, and she should be ridiculed. These things kept the poor girl's +heart in a constant state of apprehension, and evidently affected her +health; whilst the accounts brought to the farm, from time to time, of +young Barry's protracted sufferings, were anything but satisfactory to +her. Her master and mistress were uniformly kind to her, or she could +not have borne her sufferings. As it was, she found herself so +uncomfortable, that she resolved to give her mistress warning, and to +leave her as soon as she could suit herself with another servant. She +begged her mistress not to think that she was dissatisfied with her or +with her work: she told her plainly that she suffered so much from the +taunts, and even the looks, of the men upon the farm, that she could not +live there, and she was resolved to go home to her parents. + +About the latter end of the ensuing November, Margaret returned to her +parents; and if she did not live quite so well as she had done, she +lived, at all events, in peace. + +It was at this moment of her utmost poverty that Margaret's love and +fortitude were put to the severest trial. In the depth of the winter, +she received an unexpected visit from young Barry, who, claiming as he +did a more than common interest in her fate, and a more than passing +share of her acquaintance, well knew that he should not be denied +admission into her father's cottage. He entered, looking extremely pale +and thin; but Margaret was glad to see him; and more especially as he +declared that he had walked all the way from Levington. She dusted a +seat for him; and placed it by the crackling fagot-fire, requesting him +to rest himself after his walk. It was about half-past two o'clock in +the afternoon; her father was cutting fagots on the heath; her mother, +who had been unwell, had gone upstairs to lie down; her youngest brother +was attending the sheep; and she was alone at the time young Barry +entered. He seated himself, and answered her kind inquiries after his +health, and received her grateful expressions of thankfulness for his +kindness to her upon former occasions, and especially upon that day when +he had received his wound. + +Barry heard this with that true modesty which a good man always feels. +He said it was only his duty; he regretted the conduct of his former +friends and fellow-labourers, which had driven Margaret from her place, +and he asked her if she intended to go to service again. She replied, +"Not in this part of the country. I hope soon to go and stay with my +Uncle Leader at Brandiston, who, though he has a large family of his +own, has yet kindly consented to take me in, if I should want a home." + +"Margaret," said the young man, fixing his eyes upon her intently, "are +you in want of a home, and are there any circumstances in the world that +will ever induce you to share mine with me? I am come over for no other +purpose than to ask you this question. Give me a hopeful answer." + +It is impossible for any woman, with a woman's heart, not to feel +grateful to an honourable man, who, regarding not the poverty and +reverse of circumstances which she may have experienced, renews those +earnest vows which once, in happier days, he had before offered. +Margaret felt young Barry's kindness, and owned it with the deepest +thankfulness, if not in words of eloquence, yet in words of such +simplicity and earnestness, as spoke the noble resolution of a good and +honest, though, alas, mistaken mind! + +"I do not say, John, that there are no circumstances under which I might +not be induced to accept your kindness, and for which I might not +endeavour to render you the service and obedience of my whole life; but +there is one circumstance which would utterly preclude my acceptance of +your offer; yet forgive me if I say, I hope that one circumstance will +for ever exist." + +"What is that one, Margaret? Name it." + +"Nay, John, you know it well. I have told you before, that as long as I +know that Will Laud is living, or at least until I know that he is dead, +I will never marry any other man." + +"But you must know, Margaret, the dangerous life he leads, and the +precarious tenure by which that life is held, subject as it is to all +the perils of the sea." + +"Alas! I know it well; but there is a God who governs and directs all +things for good, and I hope still that the day of grace and penitence +may arrive, in which, though fickle as he now is, he may be altered and +improved. Nothing is impossible; and as long as life lasts, so long will +I have hope." + +"But your hopes, Margaret, may be blighted--it may be that the sea +itself may devour him." + +"It may be so. It will require something more than the bare report of +such a calamity to convince me of the fact, even though years should +bring no tidings of him." + +"But if you should have the truth asserted by one who should chance to +see him perish, would that be sufficient proof?" + +"No, sir, no! Except I know from my own sight, or from the most positive +evidence of more than one, I could not trust to it." + +"But if you were at last convinced of his death, might I then hope?" + +"It will be time to speak to me of that if God should grant me life +beyond that dreadful time; but, now that I think of your +kindheartedness, and know how unwilling you are to give unnecessary +pain, I begin to fear that you have some melancholy tidings to +communicate. Speak, John, speak!--your manner is unusual, and your +conversation is too ominous. Have you heard anything of Laud? Pray +speak, and tell me at once." + +This was more than the youth could at once perform. He had been so +carried away by his own passion, that he had not foreseen the effect +which his own unwelcome tidings might occasion. He now heartily wished +that he had left it for others to communicate. He hesitated, looked +painfully distressed, and was disconcerted at his own precipitancy. + +"I know, John, by your manner, that you have something to tell me, +though you seem afraid to utter it. Tell me the worst, tell me the +worst!" + +"Margaret, I own that I have been too abrupt. My own hopes have made me +overlook the shock I know you will experience; but I had really no +intention of giving you pain. The worst is, that which I have often +thought would come to pass--Will Laud is dead!" + +"How do you know that?" + +"I saw him myself this very morning." + +"Where? where?" + +"At Bawdsey Ferry." + +"How knew you it was Laud?" + +"My brother saw his boat coming ashore in the gale last night, saw it +driven upon the rocks inside the bar, and smashed to pieces. Laud, with +three others, was cast on the shore quite dead. My brother sent me word +with the morning's light. I would not even trust to his report, so I +went to Bawdsey and saw him. I then hastened to be the first to convey +the intelligence to you. Forgive me, Margaret, that my selfish thoughts +should have made me forget your feelings." + +"I can forgive _you_; but I never should forgive myself, if I did not go +directly and judge from my own sight if it be really so. I have long +made up my mind to hear unpleasant tidings; but I have never been +without hope that something would alter him." + +"I fear that he was too desperate ever to reform." + +"I did not think he could reform himself. I lived in hopes that some +severe blow might bring him to his senses; but I must go and see. In the +meantime let me request you not to mention those matters to me again; at +least, let me have time to think of the past and consider of the +future." + +"You will pardon me, Margaret, and attribute to my regard for you the +precipitate step I have taken upon this occasion." + +"Where lies the body of poor Laud?" said Margaret, without seeming to +hear what Barry had last said. + +"It is in the boat-house at Bawdsey Ferry, together with the three +others." + +"I will go there to-day." And she immediately prepared to fulfil her +resolution. + +"How will you go? Will you let me drive you there? I can obtain a horse +and cart; and I think you know me well enough to be persuaded of my +care." + +"I do not doubt it, sir, but I had rather not go with you. I have no +objection to be your debtor for the horse and cart, but my youngest +brother will drive me." + +"It shall be here in half an hour. May I offer you any other aid?" + +"None, sir, whatever. You have my thanks; and I so far consider your +honesty and truth deserves my esteem, that, by to-morrow at this time, +if you will pay us another visit, I shall be glad to see you." + +"It is all that I could wish or hope. Till then, Margaret, good-bye." + +Young Barry left with a heart somewhat easier, though touched with pain +for the poor girl. He had, however, seen the only being who stood +between him and his affections laid a helpless corpse upon the boat. +Hope took the place of despair--he soon obtained the horse and cart, and +sent them to their destination. + +Barry's anxiety was greatly increased as the day wore away, and a night +of feverish suspense succeeded. Sleep was quite out of the +question--every hour he heard the clock strike in the room beneath him. +He saw the grey dawn approach, and beheld the gradually increasing light +clearer and clearer shining, and throughout the whole livelong night he +dwelt but upon one theme--that theme was Margaret! + +He rose next morning, looking, as his friends declared, like a ghost. He +ate no breakfast--he could not talk--he could not work; but could only +walk about, lost in abstracted meditation. The dinner-hour came with +noon, but he could eat nothing--he had neither appetite, speech, nor +animation. No efforts of his parents could call forth any of his +energies--they knew he had been to see his brother; but they could not +get him to declare the purport of his visit. He said that his brother +was well; that nothing had happened to him; that he had seen him quite +well; and that he was promoted a step in the service; and that he was +constantly employed. It was evident to them that something was preying +upon the young man's mind which he would not disclose. They did not, +however, distress him with questions; and after dinner, he departed from +the house, and was observed to walk toward Nacton. + +He found Margaret returned, and seated by the fireside, as she was the +day before when he visited her. She looked very pale and thoughtful. The +young man took this as a necessary consequence of the shock she had +received at the sight of her lover's corpse, little dreaming that at +that very moment she was actually feeling for the distress of him who +then stood before her. + +"Well, Margaret, I am come, according to your appointment." + +"I am very grateful to you for your assistance. I should never have +forgiven myself had I not gone. I saw your brother, sir, and he was very +kind to me. Through his permission I obtained a sight of the bodies in +the boat-house, and he told me concerning the melancholy wreck of the +schooner; but--but both you and your brother, sir, are mistaken." + +The heart of the youth was so stricken, he could not for a time utter +one single word--he sat all astonishment, all dismay, all agony, all +despair. There was no joyful congratulation for Margaret, there was no +apology for his mistake--feelings too deep for utterance overpowered +him. + +Margaret saw and felt, in the midst of her own hope, the painful +disappointment of his, nor could she summon courage to utter more. After +the most afflicting silence, John Barry, as if he could not doubt his +own and his brother's eyes, said-- + +"Are you sure I was mistaken?" + +"Quite," said Margaret; "quite." + +"And my brother, how could he be so deceived? he knew Laud so well." + +"Few knew him better, but I convinced him that he was mistaken. I asked +him where the wound was upon the forehead, which he had given him, and +which I had such difficulty in healing. It certainly was very like Laud, +and, had I not well considered him, I also might have been deceived; but +I am glad I went. Your brother is quite satisfied upon the point, but +very much hurt to think of the grief he has occasioned you. He felt very +sorry, also, for the pain which he kindly imagined I must have felt, +which, however, was greatly relieved by the joy I experienced in proving +to his satisfaction that he was mistaken. He declared that, for my sake, +he would never injure Will Laud if he could help it. Oh, how I wish that +Will could have heard that declaration! I am persuaded that they would +have been good friends from that time. I think you will find your +brother at Levington upon your return, for I know he asked permission of +Lieutenant Brand to let him visit his father for a day upon very urgent +business. I suspect this is but to see you, and explain to you his +mistake." + +"Margaret, I ought to have felt more for you than for myself. I wish you +well--I scarcely now can hope. I am indeed wretched, but it is my duty +to strive against these feelings--I know it is. But here in this country +I cannot remain--I must go abroad. I must see if I can get a grant of +land in Canada--I cannot live here; but I shall never forget you, +Margaret, never!--and may I hope that you will sometimes think of me?" + +"I can never forget you; and, depend upon it, wherever you may be, I +shall never cease to be grateful for your past kindness to a poor +unfortunate girl like myself. God will prosper you, sir--I am sure He +will. I am far too unworthy your notice. At all times I will pray for +your happiness." + +"I know not where I shall go, Margaret. I will see you but once more +before I go; but now good-bye." + +They shook hands and parted--each felt a sincere wish for the other's +welfare. One felt that the hopes of his life were blighted; the other, +that her vows of attachment were unalterable. + +Young Barry returned home, and found, as Margaret had supposed, his +brother Edward, who had been there some time before his return. It +needed but a look to tell what each felt. They took a turn round the +fields, and were seen arm-in-arm together. They were mutually satisfied +with each other. + +Edward Barry saw and admired his brother's choice, for until then he had +never been prepossessed in her favour. The warmth of feeling which she +betrayed when looking at the countenance of her supposed lover, as he +lay in the boat-house, and the pure and simple joy at discovering the +mistake; the very sensible manner in which she proved that she could not +be mistaken; the gratitude she felt, and the exemplary manner in which +she conducted herself, all conspired to give him a high opinion of the +character of this young woman, and made him feel that, notwithstanding +the strong wish he had entertained for Laud's death, for he had even +counted upon being opposed in deadly skirmish with him, he never could +take his life without giving a deep wound to one innocent and deserving +heart. + +Young Barry became another being--his health improved rapidly; he began +to work, and to talk of future days with cheerfulness. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE LAST INTERVIEW + + +About this time a new settlement was projected at New South Wales, and +Government had already sent several convict ships to Botany Bay and Port +Jackson; but the unruly state of the people, and the necessary military +government of the colony, made it very desirable that some respectable +settlers should be induced to go out. Accordingly, whenever store-ships +were sent, a premium was offered for farmers' sons or farming men to +emigrate. One hundred acres of land for as many dollars were granted: +still very few could be induced to go. It was not for some years that +any regular settlers' ship went out with free passengers. + +Young Barry conversed with his father upon this subject, and found him +quite disposed to let him have double the above-named sum, and even +encouraged the idea in the youth's mind. + +It so happened that Captain Johnson, who commanded one of the earliest +store-ships which was sent to that colony, was acquainted with +Lieutenant Brand, and had written to ask him if there was any young +farmer who would like to go out with him from Suffolk. It was through +him that young Barry got an introduction to Captain Johnson, who +promised him a good berth, and every convenient accommodation. It was +soon resolved that John Barry should forthwith get a grant of land; and, +being furnished with all requisite particulars, he went to London to see +his ship, and make arrangements with his captain. + +All his family now felt a double interest in him because he was going +away, to leave them, perhaps, for ever--at all events for a very long +period. His sisters worked hard to make him such changes of linen as +should last him for years; and every hand they could muster in the +village, capable of doing needle-work, was fully employed. Presents of +various kinds flowed in; and, upon his return home from town, he found +himself master of more stock than he could possibly have got together +for his own use in England, though he had laboured for it for many +years. He was very cheerful, and even told his sisters that as he might, +perhaps, marry soon in the new settlement, they might make him some sets +of female apparel! They laughed with astonishment at this request; but, +as they found him earnest, they each spared something from their own +wardrobe for his most eccentric request. Little, however, did they +surmise the real motive of his heart. + +The day was fixed for the vessel to sail, and John must be, with all his +goods and chattels, at London in a fortnight. The last Sabbath-day that +he spent with his father, mother, brothers, and sisters, was memorable +for the deep-rooted power it ever after retained over his mind. The +clergyman's sermon was upon the universal providence of God, and, as if +he preached it on purpose (but which was not the case, for he was +ignorant of the intended movement of the young man), he discoursed upon +the unity of the Church of Christ in every place--the communion we had +even with our antipodes in the worship of the same God. He instanced the +especial interest which the Church had with all the colonies of the +mother country, and spoke of the joy to be felt when that reunion should +take place at the resurrection of the just. The preacher spoke as if +even the poor benighted aborigines of Van Diemen's Land were his +brethren, and showed how necessary it was for us to extend to them our +helping hand to bring them to Christianity. + +After service, the worthy miller told his pastor that his son was going +to that very country, and that the young man had said he never should +forget that discourse. The clergyman went home with the family, and +spent that Sabbath evening with them. He fully entered into the prospect +before the young man, and pointed out to him the sure path to heaven, +through the strait gate, and inspired him with many hopes of doing good. +He joined with them in prayer, and gave them his blessing. He promised +to send him a valuable present of books, which he performed the next +day. Bibles, testaments, prayer-books, homilies, tracts, _The Whole Duty +of Man_, together with a work on planting, farming, horticulture, and +seeds, and one on natural history and botany, all which proved of the +greatest utility to the worthy and honourable young man upon whom they +were bestowed. + +The day of parting at length came--the last sad day--and the young man +remembered his promise to Margaret, that he would see her once more +before he departed. He found her at home on the Monday, that very day +upon the eve of which he was to take the mail from Ipswich for London. +He came to take a long and a last farewell. And why did he torment +himself and the poor girl with this last interview? Was it with a +lurking hope that he might persuade her to accompany him? He had really +and truly prepared for such an event, could he have brought it about. In +his chests were presents which his sisters had made at his request, in +case he should marry in the new settlement. He had suggested this; but +his heart had to the very last a lingering thought that perhaps Margaret +might be induced to embark with him. Upon what small last links will not +true love depend! + +"I am come, Margaret, to take my leave of you," said he, on meeting her. +"I am going to a colony the farthest off our own dear country of any +known island in the world." + +"Indeed, sir! if so I wish you well, and pray God to bless you!" + +"Before I go, Margaret," resumed he, "I must tell you that as long as +life holds in this poor heart of mine, I shall never love any one else. +I may prosper--I may be rich--I may be blessed with abundance--but I +shall never be blessed with a wife." + +"Oh, sir, say not so! you grieve me very much to hear you talk in that +way. You are a young man, and the path of life, though it may not be +without thorns, has yet many blessed plants for your happiness. Why +should you speak so despondingly? Change of place and occupation will +make you feel very differently." + +"You may think it may be so with me, Margaret; but if there be any truth +in this last doctrine which you have yourself divulged, it will hold +good in yourself as well as in me. If you change your place of abode, +and go with me, Margaret, will not you think very differently to what +you do now? Oh, that I could persuade you! Oh, that I could induce you +to join your lot with mine! Shake off that wild attachment to the +smuggler, and go with me. I will marry you to-morrow morning before we +sail. I have even hinted the matter to my captain. He has promised to be +bridesman, and has even taken out the license, and will be ready +to-morrow at ten o'clock. No preparation will be necessary for you: I +have prepared everything. Your bridal dress is even ready; and our +honeymoon will be kept on board the _Kitty_, which is to sail to-morrow +from London. Margaret, hear me! I am sure that your present connexion +will end in ruin. What is Will Laud but a desperate fellow who cannot +and, believe me, will not protect you? What sacrifice can it be to leave +a man who would have taken you away without your consent, for one who, +with your consent, will unite all his interests with yours as long as he +lives?" + +There was a pause--an awful pause--after this declaration, such as +beings feel who are held in the most agitating suspense, between life +and death. Painful--very painful--was the situation in which Margaret +was placed. There was a flood of overwhelming agitation. The tears stole +down her cheeks. Her dark eye shone like the sun through the midst of a +watery cloud, and told that it longed to burst through the mists of +darkness, but could not find an opening for its beams. Faster and faster +fell the big drops--heavier and heavier dropped the clouds of the +eyelids, till, like a flash of lightning, burst the words from her +lips-- + +"Oh, leave me! leave me, sir! I never can alter the pledge I have given! +I never can be unfaithful! Though I may be unhappy in my choice, yet it +is a choice to which I feel so bound, that nothing but death can part +us. Oh, that Laud were as good as yourself! I feel, I own, the contrast; +but I hope he may be better. Oh, do not urge me, sir--do not urge me to +desert the only chance left for the restoration of a young man to +honesty and life!" + +"Margaret, hear then my last words, and if they fail I will leave you. I +do not believe that Laud loves you as he ought to love. Did I think +there was one chance for your happiness with him, I would not urge my +present suit a moment longer. Believe me, he is not worthy of you. You +compel me to say he is a villain. He will betray you. He will desert +you. He will bring you to want, misery, and ruin. I know you love him. +Your early feelings have all been engaged in his favour; but which of +those has he not disappointed? which of those feelings has he not +wounded? Yet you cling to him, as if he were a safe-ground of anchorage. +Believe me--believe me, Margaret, the anchor you cast there will not +hold; it will suffer you to drift upon the rocks, upon which you will +perish. Say in one word, will you, or will you not, consent to my +offer?" + +"John Barry, on my knees (and she suited the action to the word) I thank +you, and bless you; but I do not--I cannot--accept your offer!" + +"Margaret, farewell!" exclaimed he, as he raised her from the ground, "a +long, a last farewell. Nevertheless, take this; it is a gift, which may +some future day be of service to you. You will not refuse it, as it is +the last gift of one who will never see you again. I know you cannot +even read it now; but the time may come when you may be enabled so to +do, and I had counted in my long voyage of teaching you so to do. It was +a present to me from my mother; but I have many more like it, given me +by our clergyman. Take it--take it--it can never do you hurt; and, with +God's blessing, it may be the means of our meeting in another world, +though we never meet again in this. God bless you, Margaret! farewell!" + +He placed a small clasped Bible in her hands, in the opening and the +closing leaf of which were two five-pound notes; small sums perhaps +apparently to us in this day, but magnificent compared with the means of +an early settler in a strange land. This ten pounds paid poor Margaret's +rent, and all her parents' debts, at a subsequent time, when the deepest +distress might have overwhelmed her. But Barry returned to his parents +with a noble consciousness of an upright mind. His parting with them was +not, comparatively speaking, of so passionate or stirring a nature as +that which he had so recently undergone, but it was purely affectionate +and loving. + +The hour of parting is over; and John Barry, as honest and worthy a +young man as ever left the shores of Old England, was soon on board the +_Kitty_, 440 tons; and with some few others, who like himself had a mind +to try their fortunes in a foreign land, he sailed for that colony, once +the most distant and unpromising, now becoming renowned, and which +probably will be the most glorious island of the Eastern world. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE WELCOME VISIT + + +There is no greater misery upon earth than to be left alone; to feel +that nobody cares for you--nobody is interested in you; and that you are +destitute as well as desolate! Poor Margaret at this time felt something +akin to this sensation. She had a regard for the youth who had driven +himself into voluntary exile on her account. She was not, however, to +blame for this, though many a one accused her of being the cause of it. +She was shunned by those of her own sex, on account of the disreputable +character of her lover, with whom it was believed that she still held +secret correspondence, although for a long time she had heard nothing of +him. The men cared little about her, because she cared nothing about +them; but kept herself quietly at home, attending to the sick-bed of a +rapidly declining mother. Occasionally she ventured to the Priory Farm, +to ask for some few necessaries required by her aged parent. Her former +mistress was uniformly kind to her; and not contented with affording the +assistance which was asked for, this good woman visited the sick-bed of +poverty, and ministered to the wants of the aged and infirm. + +Gratitude is very eloquent, if not in the multitude of words, yet in the +choice of them, because it speaks from the heart. Margaret's gratitude +was always sincere. She was a creature of feeling without cultivation, +and imbibed at once the very perfection of that spirit which all +benevolent minds wish to see; but which if they do not see, they are so +accustomed to the world that they are not very greatly disappointed. +Their surprise is rather expressed in that pleasure which they imbibe in +seeing the feeling of a truly grateful heart. An aged female, on a bed +of poverty and sickness, is but too frequently left to negligence and +want. When their infirmities are the greatest, and their cares always +the most anxious, then is it that the really charitable aid of the +benevolent is most needed. + +Margaret felt her own inability to assist her aged mother, beyond the +doing for her to the best of her powers in all attendances as nurse and +housewife. She herself earned no money; but she made the best possible +use of all the earnings of the family, as at that time she had not +discovered the munificent present of poor John Barry; for, not being +able to read, she had carefully laid up the treasured book, unconscious +of the generosity and self-denial of the donor. + +At this time Margaret appears to have suffered much privation. She felt +that she was dependent upon the kindness of richer friends for those +little delicacies which she required to support her mother's sinking +frame; and never was heart more sensitively grateful than this poor +girl's when she received some unexpected trifle of bounty from the table +of her indulgent mistress. She wept with joy as she bore the present +home to her affectionate but fast-sinking parent. + +She had not very long to continue her nursings. Early in the year she +lost her mother. Nature could not be suspended; and she sank to rest, +with her head supported by the arms of an affectionate daughter and a +good husband. + +The death of her mother was felt by Margaret very keenly. It reminded +her of her own early affliction; and a singular occurrence took place at +the funeral, which more forcibly reminded her of her sister's death. A +stranger entered the churchyard at the time of the ceremony, and stood +at the foot of the grave, and actually wept with the mourners. No one +knew who he was, or where he came from; nor did he speak to any one, but +he seemed to be much afflicted at the scene of sorrow. He remained some +time after the mourners had departed, and saw the grave filled up again; +and when the old clerk had neatly patted round the mound with his +spade, and was about to leave it, the stranger asked him if he did not +mean to turf it. + +"Why, I don't know; I don't think they can afford to have it done +properly; but, at all events, I must let the earth settle a bit first." + +"How long will it take to do that?" + +"That depends upon the weather. Come rain, and that will soon settle; +but if frost, and dry weather continue, it will be some time first. They +cannot afford to have it flagged and binded." + +"What will that cost?" + +"I charge one shilling and sixpence extra for that, as I have to get the +turf from the heath; but I shall have some time to wait before I am paid +for what I have done. Time was when that family was well off; but no +good comes of bad doings." + +"What do you mean, my man? what bad doings have these poor people been +guilty of?" + +"I see, sir, you are a stranger in these parts, or else the Catchpoles, +especially one of them, would be known to you by common report." + +"Which one is that?" + +"Margaret, sir." + +"Well, what of her? has she been unfortunate?" + +"If she has it has been her own seeking, no one's else. She might have +done well, but she would not." + +"What might she have done? and what has she done?" + +"Why, sir, she might have married an industrious young man, who would +have done well by her; but she chose to encourage a vagabond smuggler, +who first set her up with high notions, and then ruined and left her to +poverty and shame." + +"You do not mean to say that the young woman is a depraved and abandoned +character?" + +"No, no; I mean she don't like any honester man, and so no one seems to +care anything about her." + +A tear stole down the stranger's cheeks; and, whoever he was, he seemed +to feel a little relief at this information. + +"Is the young woman living at home with her family?" + +"Yes; because nobody will hire her. She is laughed at by the females, +and the men don't care anything about her. If they could catch her +lover, and pocket a hundred pounds reward for his capture, they would +like the chance." + +"How are the family supported?" + +"Why, I suppose the father earns eight shillings a week, the youngest +son one-and-sixpence; but they must have been hard run this winter, and +it will take them some time to get up their back-rent and present +expenses." + +"What is the amount of their present expense?" + +"Why, I must get, if I can, sixteen shillings, somehow or another. I +dare say I shall have it; but it will take them some time to pay it. +There is ten shillings for the coffin (for I am carpenter, clerk, and +sexton), three shillings and sixpence digging the grave, one shilling +for tolling the bell, and one shilling and sixpence for the clergyman; +that will exactly make the sum." + +"You say it will take one shilling and sixpence extra for turfing and +binding: that will be seventeen shillings and sixpence. How much do you +think they owe at the shop?" + +"I know that it cost them three shillings and sixpence for flannel; but +I know it is not paid for yet." + +"There's a guinea; that will exactly pay you all, will it not?" and the +stranger pitched a guinea against the sexton's spade. + +What a wonderful thing is a golden guinea in the eye of a poor parish +clerk! how reverential it makes a man feel, especially when a stranger +pays it for a poor man! He might have got it; but he must have waited +the chance till after the next harvest. + +"That it will, sir--that it will. I'll call and pay the bill at the +shop. Are you coming to live in these parts?" + +"Not for long--not long!" sighed the stranger. + +"Why, you look very healthy, sir? You are not ill?" + +"No, no, my man; I do not mean to give you a chance of getting another +guinea by me, at least for the present. I only meant to say my stay in +this village would not be for long. But where do these poor people +live?" + +"Not in the same place they used to do in the days of their prosperity +and respectability. Their house now stands at the corner of the heath, +sir: shall I go with you and show it you?" + +"I can find it; there are not many cottages there. Do you go and pay the +bill at the shop; and then if you have a mind to bring the receipt, +instead of giving me the trouble to call at your house for it, you will +find me at the cottage of these poor people; and hear me, old man, do +not talk to any one about this matter. You may as well bring a receipt, +also, for your own work at the same time." + +"You are quite a man of business, I see, sir. I will not fail to be at +the cottage this very evening with a receipt in full." + +The old sexton placed the guinea carefully at the bottom of his pocket, +and, shouldering his spade and mattock, marched off towards the village +shop. The stranger walked round Nacton churchyard. He stood sometime +attentively reading the inscription upon Admiral Vernon's mausoleum; +and, taking another look at the humble, new-made grave of Margaret +Catchpole's mother, he took the highroad to the heath, and saw the +cottage, known by the name of the Shepherd's Cot, at the verge of that +wild waste. + +Meantime the following conversation was going on in that cottage:-- + +"I wonder," said Margaret to her father, as the old man sat by the +log-fire in the chimney-corner, "whether our brother Charles is alive or +dead?" + +"I can just remember him," said the boy; "he used to be very fond of me, +and said I should make a good soldier." + +"I have never heard of him," said the father, "since he went to Ipswich, +and enlisted in another name, at the Black Horse, in St. Mary Elms. I +understood that his regiment went off to India almost immediately after +he enlisted." + +"I wonder if he is alive?" + +"I cannot tell, my dear; the chances are very much against it. He was a +quick, intelligent, lively boy; and, when he was at work in the fields, +used often to say he should like to be a soldier. The old clerk taught +him to read and write, and used to say, 'If Charles had a chance he +would be scholar enough to succeed him as parish clerk.' He left us at +the commencement of our misfortunes; God grant he may meet us again in +happier days!" + +Poor Margaret sighed; for she too well remembered the origin of all +their sorrows not to feel for her dear parent. That sigh was answered by +a sudden knock at the door, which occasioned a start. The latch was +lifted up, and in walked the stranger who had attended the funeral. His +entrance gave a change to their conversation; and Margaret placed a +chair for him, in which he quietly sat down opposite to the old +labourer. Care had worn the countenance of the venerable man more than +years and work. The only mourning of an outward kind which met the eye, +was an old piece of crape round the equally old hat which hung upon a +peg in the wall. Nothing else could be afforded; but their countenances +betokened the state of their hearts. They were really melancholy. It is +not in the outward pageantry of a funeral that real sorrow is to be +seen; and the real grief of the Shepherd's Cottage surpassed all the +pageantry of the palace, and was viewed with calm and respectful silence +by the stranger. + +He was a tall, pale, thin young man, with a scar upon the side of his +face: he looked as if he had undergone much sickness or misfortune. He +was dressed in a plain suit of black, which hung rather loosely round +him. He asked Margaret if the youth beside her was her youngest brother, +and whether she had any other brothers living. She replied that it was, +to the best of her knowledge, her only brother living. He then made +inquiries concerning the illness of her late mother; and after various +other domestic matters, he looked very earnestly at Margaret, and in a +seemingly abstracted manner said, "Where is Will Laud?" It was as if an +electric shock had been given to all in the room; for all started at the +question, and even the stranger was greatly moved at his own question, +when he saw Margaret hide her face in her hands, weeping. + +"I did not mean to occasion you any grief. I only asked after a man whom +I once knew as a boy, and whom the old clerk informed me you could tell +me more about than any one else." + +"And do not you know more of him than we do, sir?" said the old man. + +"I know nothing of him, and have heard nothing of him since I was a +youth; my question was purely accidental. I am sorry to see your +daughter so afflicted by it. Has the man been unkind to her?" + +"No, sir! no!" said Margaret. "If you are here as a spy, sir, indeed we +know not where he is." + +"A spy!" said the stranger; and the stranger started and muttered +something to himself. Margaret herself now began to feel alarmed; for +the stranger seemed to be deep in thought; and, as the flame from the +log of wood cast its light upon his face, she thought he looked ghastly +pale. + +"A spy!" said the stranger; "what made you think me a spy?--and what +should I be a spy for?" + +"I did not mean to affront you, sir; but the question you asked +concerning one for whose apprehension a hundred pounds is offered, made +me think of it. Pray pardon me, sir." + +"I am sorry that he has done anything to occasion such an offer from the +Government. Has he murdered any one?" + +"No, sir; but Will is a wild young man, and he attempted to kill young +Barry of Levington, and wounded him so severely, that a reward was +offered for his apprehension." + +"Has Barry recovered?" + +"Yes, sir; and he is gone out of the country to Canada, or some more +distant land." + +"Then never mind if Laud be caught. Government will never pay a hundred +pounds for his conviction when the principal evidence cannot be +obtained. Never mind! never mind!--that will soon be forgotten." + +Such words of consolation had never been uttered in Peggy's ear before. +She began to feel very differently toward the stranger, as the tone of +his voice, and his manner, together with his words, became so soothing. + +"Thank you, sir, for your good wishes; you make my heart joyful in the +midst of my mourning." + +"I only wish I could make it more joyful by telling you any good news of +your lover, Margaret; but though I know nothing of him, and only wish he +were more worthy of you than he is, yet I bear you tidings of some one +else of whom you will all be glad to hear." + +"Our brother Charles!" both she and the boy at once exclaimed, whilst +the old man remained in mute astonishment. + +"It is of your brother Charles; and first, let me tell you that he is +alive and well." + +"Thank God for that!" said the father. + +"Next, that he is in England, and it will not be long before you will +have the pleasure of seeing him." + +At this moment the door opened, and in walked the old clerk, who, seeing +the stranger, made his bow, and gave him a piece of paper containing a +receipt for the guinea which he had received. To the surprise of all, +the stranger rose, and taking a little red box made in the shape of a +barrel, which stood on the wooden shelf over the fire-place, he +unscrewed it, and put the paper in it; and, replacing it, seated himself +again. + +"You were just telling us of our brother Charles," said Margaret. + +"What!" exclaimed the sexton, "is Charles alive? My old scholar! Where +is the boy? I have often thought of him. Oh! what a pity he took to +drinking! He was as good a reader as our clergyman, and beat me out and +out." + +"He is not addicted to drink now, and is as sober as a man can be." + +"I am glad of that. Then he will succeed in anything he undertakes. But +where has he been these many years?" + +"You shall hear if you will sit down; for, as I knew him well, and was +his most intimate friend, he made me his confidant in everything. He was +always of a restless spirit; and when he left his father and friends, he +had no settled plan in his mind. He enlisted in the 33rd regiment of +Foot, which was then going out to India; and that his relatives and +friends might not grieve about him, he gave his name to the parochial +authorities of St. Mary Elms, at Ipswich, as Jacob Dedham, the name of a +boy who, he knew, was not alive. The parish-officer gave him a shilling, +and he took another shilling of the recruiting-officer. + +"He was sworn in, and took his departure with many others for +Portsmouth, at which place he embarked for India, and joined the 33rd +regiment at Bombay. He was always of an aspiring and inquisitive turn of +mind. He became an active and orderly soldier, and assisted the +sergeant-major in all his writings and accounts. He soon became an adept +in all the cunning and customs of the various castes of natives in +India; was remarkable for the quickness with which he mastered the +different idioms of the different territories of the East; and at length +became so noticed by Sir William Forbes, that he introduced him to Lord +Cornwallis, who employed him upon the frontier of Persia. + +"Here he became a spy, and was actively engaged for that highly +honourable and intelligent Governor-General. He readily entered into his +lordship's views; and, receiving from him a purse well stored, to +provide himself with disguises, he assumed the garb of a Moorish +priest, and with wonderful tact made himself master of all the +requisites of his office. I have here a sketch of him, in the very dress +in which he travelled through the country." + +Taking out a roll from his coat-pocket, he unfolded the canvas wrapper +in which it was enclosed, and presented it to Margaret, asking her if +she recognized her brother. + +With eager and interested glance she looked at the sketch, but not a +feature could she challenge. She then looked up at the stranger, and, as +she did so, said-- + +"It is much more like you, sir, than it is like my brother." + +"I think it is full as like me as it is like him. But, such as it is, +you have it; for he commissioned me to give it to you, together with a +sketch of a fortress in which he resided a long time as the priest of +the family. This is Tabgur, on the frontiers of Persia. His master and +family are walking on the rampart-garden of the fort." + +Here the old clerk could not help bursting out with an exclamation of +astonishment at the wonderful talent of his former pupil. + +"I always said he would be a wonderful man, did I not, Master +Catchpole,--did I not? Did he teach himself this art, sir?" + +"Indeed he did; and many others he learned, which did him equal credit. +He was a very quiet man in appearance, though he was alive to everything +around him. Many were the hairbreadth escapes he had; but his +self-possession carried him through all. He had to conceal all his +drawings of the different fortresses, all his calculations of the +inhabitants, of their forces, and their condition; but he contrived to +wrap them about his person, so that they could not be discovered. + +"Once, indeed, one of his papers, written as close as pencil could +write, was picked up in the fort-garden at Tabgur, and he was suspected +for a spy; but he quickly changed their suspicions; for, observing that +his master had a bad toothache, he told him it was a charm to prevent +it. Every person, he said, for whom he wrote that charm, would be free +from the toothache as long as he kept it secreted in his turban; but it +must be one expressly written for the purpose, and for the person; and +that, during the time of its being written, the person must have a piece +of rock-salt upon that very tooth which was aching at the time. The +charm was only of use for the person for whom it was written; and, as +that one was written for himself, it could do the Persian warrior no +good. This answered well; for he got back his valuable paper, and wrote +one immediately, in the presence of his master, who, placing a piece of +rock-salt upon the tooth, found that, as he wrote, the pain was +diminished; and when he concluded, it was completely gone. + +"But the next day, your brother, the Moorish priest, was gone also. He +passed over into Hindostan, changed his Moorish dress, and soon made his +way to head-quarters, where he delivered such an accurate account of all +that befell him, and of all that was required of him, that he received a +most ample reward. He called himself Caulins Jaun, the Moorish priest. + +"He has been sent to England by Lord Cornwallis, to deliver some +despatches to the government, relating to the Mysore territory and +Tippoo Saib's conduct; and, having accomplished his mission, he has +asked permission to visit his poor friends at Nacton, in Suffolk. His +leave is very short, as his services are again required." + +"And when may we expect him here?" exclaimed Margaret. "Oh, how I long +to see him!" + +"I expect him here this night; for, as I was his companion, and am to go +back again with him, so I am his forerunner upon this occasion." + +"I could almost set the village-bells ringing for joy," said the old +clerk. "I wonder whether he would know me." + +"That I am sure he would." + +"Pray, sir, how do you know that?" + +"Because the description he gave me of you is so accurate that I could +tell you from a thousand. Do you remember the sketch he made of an old +woman throwing a cat at her husband?" + +"That I do. Did he tell you of that?" + +"That he did; and of the scratch he got from the cat's claws, as you +bopped your head, and puss lit directly on his face." + +Here the old man could not help laughing. + +"But did he tell you nothing else about the sketch?" + +"That he did, and with such feeling, that I almost fancy I see now the +scrub-brush belabouring his head for his pains." + +"Oh, dear! oh, dear! I thought he had forgotten all that." + +"No; he thought of it at the very time he was sketching the forts of his +enemies' country. Had he been caught in such freaks as those, he would +have had a severer punishment than what your good dame gave him." + +"But if my old dame could see him now, how rejoiced she would be; for +notwithstanding his roguery, he was a great favourite of hers!" + +"She will see him to-morrow." + +"That will be news for the old woman. But shall I see him this night? I +would not mind waiting till midnight for such a purpose." + +"That you may. But I do not think that even you would know him, were you +to see him." + +"Why not? Would he know me?" + +"He would: but youth alters more in countenance than age, especially +where a foreign climate has acted upon the constitution." + +"I should know him from two things," said Margaret. "He once so nearly +cut off the end of his little finger with a sharp tool, that it hung +only by a piece of skin: it was bound up, so that it adhered and grew +together; but somehow, the tip got a twist, so that the nail of the +finger grew under the hand: it was the left hand." + +"And what was the other mark?" + +"It was a deep scar on the back of the same hand, caused by imprudently +cutting off a large wart." + +"Now tell me," said the stranger, drawing the glove off his left hand, +"were the scars you mention anything like those?" + +"Exactly," said the clerk, who looked at him again and again with +amazement. + +"Why, you can't be he? Are you Master Charles?" + +"Can you doubt it?" + +"The hand is his." + +"And the hand is mine. Therefore the hand is the hand of Charles." + +The old man rose, and coming forward said, "I do believe you are my son; +I have been thinking so for some time, and I am now satisfied that it is +so. God bless you, my boy! You are come at a seasonable hour, for the +Lord gives and takes away as He sees best." + +A hearty embrace and affectionate recognition took place. The stranger +(now no longer such) soon convinced them of his identity; and though no +one could really have known a single feature of his countenance, yet he +gave them such internal and external evidences of his relationship, +calling to mind so many circumstances of such deep interest to them all, +that he was soon acknowledged to be their relative. + +Happiness comes unexpectedly in the days of mourning. The wild recruit +had returned, after many days, to cheer an aged parent and a forlorn +sister, who needed the hand of some one to help them in their troubles. +The old man's heart revived again; and it was a pleasure to witness the +joys of the few days which then visited the Catchpoles, and the +congratulations which they received from the old clerk and his wife upon +the bright prospects of a hopeful son. Reports spread like wildfire that +Charles Catchpole had come home, and that he had returned from India as +rich as a Nabob. Reports are generally exaggerated, and they were not a +little so in the present case; for although Charles might be +comparatively rich, his fortune, as the world terms it, was anything but +made. He had a few guineas to spare; but he had to return to India, and +to pursue a very hazardous course of life, before he could even hope to +gain that independence which had been promised to him. A few guineas, +however, made a great show in a cottage. He paid his father's debts; +made a present to the old clerk's wife; bought his sister a new gown; +his younger brother, Edward, a new suit of clothes; paid one year's rent +in advance for the cottage; left a present with the sexton to keep his +mother's grave ever green; and announced his departure to his family +after staying one short week after five years' absence. + +"I shall see you no more, Charles!" exclaimed Margaret, at parting. "I +fear that I shall see you no more! You are going through a dangerous +country, and the perils you have already escaped you must not always +expect to avoid." + +"Fear not, Peggy, fear not. God sent me in a proper season to comfort +you, and if you trust in Him, He will send you some other friend in +need, if it be not such a one as myself." + +"Oh, let me go with you, dear brother! I should like to accompany you," +said Edward, his brother. + +"That cannot be, Edward. You must remain at home to help your father and +sister; you are not able to undertake a march of many thousand miles, +under a sun burning your face, and a sand scorching your feet. I have a +good friend, however, in Lord Cornwallis, and I have no doubt that some +time hence I shall be enabled to do you some service. I do not recommend +you to be a soldier; but if you wish it, when I see his lordship I will +ask him to help you. You shall hear from me in the course of a year or +so; in the meantime make all the progress you can in reading and writing +with the old clerk, and be industrious. I must be in London to-morrow, +and shall soon sail for India. I shall never forget any of you." + +"God bless you all!--good-bye," were the parting words of Charles +Catchpole. There is in that short sentence, "Good-bye," a melancholy +sense of departure which the full heart cannot express. + +"Good-bye!--good-bye!" and Margaret gave vent to her grief in tears, +whilst the old man clasped his hands in silent prayer. + +The fond brother and affectionate son is gone; and never did Margaret +see that brother again. She was shortly to change her place of abode. +Her uncle Leader, who lived at Brandiston, and who had a young family, +and was left a widower, sought the assistance of his niece; and though +her father could but ill spare her, yet as there were so many children, +and Margaret was so good a nurse, he could not refuse his consent. There +was another feeling, too, which prompted the good old man to spare her. +Though he loved his daughter's company, he knew that she deserved to be +thought better of by many who disregarded her in her own neighbourhood, +and he thought a change would be good for her. It might produce in her a +change of mind towards Will Laud--a thing he most earnestly wished for, +though he would not grieve her by saying so. It would at all events +remove her from many little persecutions which, though she professed not +to feel them, he knew weighed heavily on her spirits; and come what +might, even should Laud return, he was not known there, and he might be +a happier man. Under all these circumstances, he not only gave his +consent, but urged her going. She left her father's roof on the Monday +with her uncle. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +POVERTY AND PRIDE + + +On the evening of the very day on which Margaret quitted her father's +roof for that of her uncle, as the old man was sitting pensively at his +cottage fire, a knock at the door announced a visitor. The door opened, +and in walked Will Laud, together with his friend, John Luff. + +"Good-evening, father," said Will. "We are come now from the shore. Our +boat is once more moored to the rails at the landing-place, by Orwell +Park, and we are come across the lands to see you. We had some +difficulty in finding out your berth. You have changed your place of +abode." + +"Say that you have changed it for us, and you will be nearer the mark. +For ever since we knew you and your companion, we have known nothing but +changes, and few of them for the better." + +"Things cannot always change for the worse, surely." + +"I wonder you are not afraid to be seen in this part of the country. +There are many here, Will, that would be glad of a hundred pounds, the +price set upon your head." + +"And yourself foremost of that number, I dare say," said the gruff +smuggler who accompanied Will Laud. + +The old man looked at him with a placid but firm countenance, and said, +"That is the language of a villain! Do you think I am so fond of money +as yourself; or that I would sell my daughter's lover for a hundred +pounds? The door you have just opened is not yet closed, and if such be +your opinion, the sooner you take your departure hence the better." + +"Humph! humph!" said Luff. "You need not be so crusty, Mr. +Catchpole--you need not be so boisterous. We have not seen the inside of +a house for many a long month, and if this be the first welcome we are +to have, it is rather ominous." + +"What welcome do those men deserve who cause the ruin of others?" + +"We have not intentionally caused your ruin, father," said Laud; "but we +come in peace; we wish to abide in peace, and to depart in peace." + +"Then you should teach your friend to keep his foul tongue still, or it +will cause you more trouble than you are aware of." + +"I miss the principal ornament of your house, Master Catchpole," said +Will. "Where are all the females gone?" + +"Some are gone where I hope soon to join them; the one you feel most +interest about is gone to service." + +"I was told, not an hour ago, that Margaret lived at home with you." + +At this instant the door was opened, and young Edward Catchpole entered. +He had been to put his sheep safe into fold, and came whistling home, +with little thought of seeing any strangers in his father's cottage. + +"Boy, do you know me?" was the inquiry made by Will Laud. + +"Not yet," said the younger; "but I can give a shrewd guess; and I can +tell you something which will soon prove whether I guess right or not. +As I came over the heath, I met two sailors, who appeared to me to +belong to the preventive service. They were on horseback. They stopped +and asked me if I had seen a cart, and whether it was going fast, and +which road it took; whether it went across the heath, or along the road. +I told them plainly it was before them, and that it had turned down the +road towards the decoy-ponds. They then asked me if I had met two +sailor-looking men walking. To this, of course, I said No. But I suspect +they must have meant you." + +"How could that be?" said Laud. "We came not along the road." + +"No; but you might have seen some one who was going to Nacton Street, +and they might have been inquired of." + +"That's true, indeed. We had to ask where your father lived, and our +curiosity concerning your family has led to this pursuit of us." + +"One of the men I think I have seen before, and, if I mistake not, it is +the same Edward Barry that my sister and I went to see at Bawdsey +boat-house." + +"Your sister went to see Edward Barry! What on earth for, my lad?" + +"Nay, don't be jealous, Laud. There was a report that you were drowned, +and that your body was cast on shore. The bearer of that report was your +rival, John Barry. Margaret would not believe that report, unless she +should see your body. So I drove her there, and Edward Barry, who had +the key of the boat-house, permitted her to see the bodies, which +satisfied her that the report was unfounded." + +The two men looked significantly at each other, as much as to say, "It +is time for us to be off." + +"I have one question more to ask," said Laud. "Where is Margaret?" + +"She is gone to service at her Uncle Leader's, of Brandiston. It is no +great place for her, but she will be out of the way of reproaches she +has suffered, Laud, on your account. Moreover, she has refused the hand +of a most respectable young man, whom I should have been glad that she +would have accepted. But he is gone to a distant land, and neither you +nor I, Will, shall see him again. John Barry has sailed, as a free +settler, either to Van Diemen's Land, or to Canada, I know not which." + +These words were most welcome to the listener's heart. He had not heard +any which sounded so joyful to him for a long time. He made no reply, +however, but tendered a purse to the old man. + +"No; keep your money to yourself, Laud, and make an honest use of it. I +would not touch it, if I was starving. But you may rest here if you +please, and such cheer as my poor cot can afford you shall be welcome +to, for my dear daughter's sake!" + +"No, no, I thank you. We must be on board our ship again to-night. Our +bark is in the river, and if the enemy catch us, he will show us no +quarter. So good-night, father, good-night!" + +"I do not wish to detain you, but hear me, Laud. If you have a mind to +make my poor girl happy, leave off your present life, and this +acquaintance too, this man's company." + +"Come on!" said Luff, impatiently--"Come on! We've got no time to lose. +Our boat will be fast upon the mud. Good-night, old man, and when you +and I meet again, let us be a little more friendly to each other." + +It was well for both of them that they departed as they did; for, +shortly after they were gone, the tramp of horses along the road told of +the return of the coastguard. + +They stopped at Catchpole's cottage, and calling aloud, young Edward +went out to them. + +"Hold our horses, young man, will you? we want to light our pipes." + +"By all means," said Edward, coming to the little garden-gate. Both men +alighted, and he could see that they were well armed. They walked +directly to the door; and seeing the old man seated by the fire, one of +them said-- + +"We want to light our pipes, Master Catchpole. It is a blustering night. +Have you a tobacco-pipe, for I have broken mine rather short?" + +The old man took one from his corner and gave it to young Barry, whom, +from his likeness to his brother, he could distinguish, and simply said, +"You are welcome to it, sir." + +"Your son sent us on a wrong scent to-night." + +"I do not think he did so knowingly. I heard him say he met you; and he +told me he directed you aright." + +"We saw nothing of the cart. We have reason to believe that a rich +cargo of goods has been landed at Felixstowe, and that the last +cart-load went along this road to Ipswich. Have you had any of your old +seafaring friends here? Are there any here now? You know who I mean." + +"You may search and see for yourself. Every door of this house will open +at your trial. If that is sufficient answer to your question, you are +welcome to take it. Nay, I wish most heartily that you and your brother +had been my friends long before the one to whom you allude had ever +darkened my door." + +When the young man remembered his brother's attachment, and the really +worthy object of it, there was a grateful feeling which came over his +mind, notwithstanding the disappointment which his brother, himself, and +his family had experienced, which made him feel respect for the old man. + +"I thank you, Master Catchpole--I thank you. Had such been the case, you +might have had a good son, and I should not have lost a good brother; +and in my conscience I believe I should have gained a good sister. But +there is no accounting for a woman's taste. I tell you honestly, Master +Catchpole, that for your daughter's sake I wish her lover, or the man +she loves, were a worthier character." + +"I know that both she and I wish it so--she with hope--I, alas! confess +that I have no hope of that. As long as he lives he will never alter, +except for the worse." + +"I wish it may be otherwise. But come, my mate, it is no use our waiting +here, we must go on to Felixstowe. If at any time, Master Catchpole, I +can be of service to you, you have nothing to do but to send a messenger +to Bawdsey Ferry, and the brother of him who is now far away will do +what he can to help you. Good-night, Master Catchpole!" + +They returned to their horses, mounted them again, and telling Ned that +he might drink their healths whenever he pleased, gave him sixpence, and +rode off. + +"Father," said Edward, when he was again seated by the fire, "I do +not--I cannot like that fellow Laud; and how Margaret can endure him is +to me strange." + +"She knew him, my boy, before he became the character he now is." + +"I am sorry to lose my sister; but she will at least be better off where +she is, and far away from reproaches. We must make out without her aid +as well as we can. Our old sexton's sister has promised to come and do +for us; so we shall have some help." + +So father and son consoled themselves; and after their frugal meal +returned to their straw-stuffed beds; and slept upon their cares. + +Meantime it was no small task that Margaret had undertaken. She was to +be as a mother to seven young children, and to keep her uncle's house in +order, and to provide everything to the best of her power. But her +spirit was equal to the undertaking; and the new life which came to her +through change of place and people soon animated her to those exertions +necessary to her position--a situation so difficult and arduous. + +Place a woman in a domestic station, where the power of a mistress and +the work of a servant are to be performed, and see if she cannot show +what a quantity of work may be done with one pair of hands. A good head, +and a kind heart, and a willing hand, are virtues which, as long as +industry and honesty are praiseworthy, will be sure to succeed. + +Her uncle was but a labourer, earning twelve shillings a week at the +utmost, and that by working over-hours. At that time of day such wages +were considered very large; and where the housewife was active with her +loom, or the aged with her spinning-wheel, labourers used sometimes to +lay by something considerable, and not unfrequently rose to be +themselves masters. The wages which Mr. Leader earned were sufficient, +in the hands of this active girl, to provide every necessary for the +week, and to lay by something for rent. + +She soon made the eldest girl a good nurse; and gave her such a method +of management as saved herself much trouble. In the first place, she +began her rule with a most valuable maxim of her own inculcation: "A +place for everything, and everything in its place." Another of her +maxims was: "Clean everything when done with, and put it up properly and +promptly." Also, "Whenever you see anything wrong, put it right." +"Everything that is broken should be either mended or thrown away." She +would not admit of waste in anything. Among her good old saws was also: + + Early to bed, and early to rise, + Makes a man healthy, and wealthy, and wise. + +She would never suffer a bill to stand beyond the week at any shop. The +Saturday night, at nine o'clock, saw her and her uncle's family out of +debt, and the children all clean washed, with their white linen laid out +for the Sabbath-day. And to see, on that holy day, with what quiet, +hushed little feet they entered, four of them at least, the village +church of Brandiston, with their foster-mother, was a sight which caught +the attention of every well-disposed person in the parish. Master +Leader's luck in a housekeeper was soon spoken of; and many a parent +pointed out Margaret as a good chance for a poor man. + +Up to this time Margaret could not read a single word: but she was very +glad when the vicar's lady undertook to send two of the children to the +village-school. She encouraged them to learn their daily tasks, and made +them teach her in the evening what they had learned at the school in the +day; and in this manner she acquired her first knowledge of letters. The +children took such pleasure in teaching her, that they always paid the +greatest attention to their lessons. + +Margaret was now comparatively happy in the performance of her duties; +and felt relieved from the restraint and reproach which at Nacton, where +her father lived, had been attached to her character, on account of +William Laud. How long she might have continued in this enviable state +of things it would be difficult to surmise; but she seemed fated to +encounter untoward circumstances over which she could exercise no +control. She conducted herself with the greatest propriety. The children +loved her as they would a kind parent; and all who knew her in the +village of Brandiston esteemed her for her able conduct of her uncle's +family. Had that uncle himself been a wise man, he would never have +given occasion for Margaret to leave him: but no man is wise at all +hours; and Mr. Leader, though a very honest, good labourer, and a steady +man in his way, in an hour of too little thought, perhaps, or of too +superficial promise of happiness, chose to take unto himself a new wife; +a fat buxom widow of forty, owner of two cottages, and two pieces of +land in Brandiston Street, and a little ready money besides, with only +one little daughter, engaged his attention. He, poor simple man, +thinking he might better his condition, save his rent, and add to his +domestic comfort, consented, or rather entreated, that the banns might +be published for his second marriage. + +Had the woman herself been a wise one, she would have seen how requisite +Margaret's care was to the family. But she became mistress, and must +command every one in the house--her house too! and she was not to be +interfered with by any one. She would not be dictated to in her own +house. No! though her husband had a niece who might have been all very +well, yet he had now a wife, and a wife ought to be a man's first +consideration--a wife with a house over her head, her own property. + +Men may have notions of the greatness of their possessions; but a weak +woman, when once she has an all-absorbing and over-weening idea of her +own great wealth, becomes so infatuated with the possession of power +which that property gives her, that there are scarcely any bounds to her +folly. Money may make some men, perhaps many, tyrants; but when a woman +exercises the power of money alone, she becomes the far greater tyrant. +Her fondness for wealth makes her more cruel and unnatural in her +conduct; she forgets her sex--her nature--her children--her +friends--her dependents--and, alas! her God! + +And soon did the new Mrs. Leader make a chaos of that family which had +recently been all order and regularity. The management of household +affairs was taken out of Margaret's hands. Bills were left to be paid +when the new mistress received the rents of her cottages and land. The +children were foolishly indulged; turned out to play in the street; +taught to disregard Margaret, and to look upon her as a servant; her +daughter was never to be contradicted; in short, every one in the house +was to bend to the will of its new mistress. + +Such a change had taken place in the comforts and conduct of the house, +that Margaret, with all her care could manage nothing. She was thwarted +in all she did--eyed with jealousy on account of the praise bestowed +upon her--taught continually to remember and know herself and her +station--and to behave with more respect to her betters, or else to quit +the house. + +Margaret had a sweet temper, and really loved her uncle and the +children, or she could not have endured so long as she did the +waywardness of this purse-proud woman. + +Matters had been going on in no very pleasant manner in Mr. Leader's +cottage, and Margaret had found herself in a very uncomfortable +situation. She had been quite removed from her honourable station, as +governess of the family, and had been treated as a very unworthy menial +by her ignorant aunt. + +While things were in this state, it so happened, that one evening in the +month of April, Margaret was sent from her aunt's cottage to the village +shop to purchase some article that was wanted for the morrow. It was +late when she went out, and the shop stood completely at the end of the +village. It was one of those general shops, half a good dwelling-house, +and half a shop, where the respected tenant carried on a considerable +business without much outward show. + +A lane branched off from the main street leading down to the vicarage, +called the Church Road. It was, properly speaking, the Woodbridge Road +from Brandiston. At the moment Margaret was passing over this crossway +towards the shop, she was accosted by the familiar voice of one asking +where Mr. William Leader lived. Margaret replied:-- + +"I am now come from Mr. Leader's. He is my uncle. Do you want to see +him?" + +"No, Margaret, it is yourself I am in search of. Do you not know my +voice?" + +It was William Laud! + +The reader must conceive the joy, the astonishment, the surprise, the +fear, or all these sensations combined in one, which Margaret, the +persecuted Margaret, felt in being thus accosted by her lover. Did it +require any great persuasion to induce her to turn aside at such a +moment, and walk a little way down the Church Road, past the Old Hall, +with one she had not seen or heard of for so long a time; one whom, with +a woman's faithfulness, she still loved with all the strength of her +mind and heart? + +"I have been very ill, Margaret," said Laud, "since I came ashore and +saw your father and brother. It was the very evening of the day you left +home. Had you left one day later, I should have seen you, and, perhaps, +I might have been spared a fever which has reduced me to the verge of +the grave." + +"It is so long since I have seen or heard of you, William, that I began +to think you had forgotten me." + +"I have never forgotten you, Margaret, and I never shall, till I cease +to remember anything. In storm and tempest, in calm and sunshine; in the +midnight watch, or under the clear blue sky; in danger or in safety, in +health or in sickness; in the hour of boisterous mirth, or in the rough +hammock of the seaman, when the dash of waves and the whistling winds +have swept by me, Margaret, I have always thought of you; but never more +than in those moments of fever and anxiety, when I have been suffering +from the extremes of pain and sickness. Then, Margaret, I remembered +your soothing kindness; and then I bitterly felt your absence. But have +you forgotten and forgiven my rough conduct, when we last met, a long +time ago? I am alone now, and but a poor creature." + +"I have not forgotten, William, because I cannot forget; but I have +always forgiven you. Much, much have I suffered on your account; shame, +reproach, and poverty, have visited me through you--loss of kindred, +friends, and companions; but God has enabled me to bear all, with the +hope that I should one day see you an altered man." + +"Yes, Margaret, yes; and so you shall. I am altered much--I long to +leave my present line of life and to settle in some place where I never +was known. Captain Bargood has given me his word, that, after one more +voyage, I shall be released, with prize-money sufficient to settle +anywhere I please, and to give me a free passage to that place, be it +where it may." + +"I can only say, William, I wish that one voyage was over. I hate your +companions and your employment. I fear to lose you again, William. Oh, +why not get some honest work on land, and let me toil for and with you?" + +"Margaret, I am here upon my word of honour to the captain, that I would +go one more run for him. I have been a long trip this last time, across +the Atlantic, and I am promised a different tack the next time. But it +will soon be over, and then I will renounce them all. The captain has +nursed me in his own house, and though a rough fellow and a poor +comforter for a sick man, yet I believe he did his best, and I am bound +to be grateful to him." + +"I wish your duty taught you, Will, some better obligation. My heart +misgives me for you; and I can never sanction a day in unlawful +pursuits. I grieve for you. But time steals away, William, and I have +forgotten my own duty. I have not a very kind mistress in my new aunt; +but my duty is obedience. I have to go to shop now, and I fear it will +be closed if I delay any longer. When shall I see you again, William?" + +"I fear me, not until this last voyage is over. I hope that will be a +short one. I shall just go into the King's Head, refresh myself, and +start again for the coast by daylight." + +"Well, William, you have my prayers and my love, and I hope you may one +day claim my duty. At present, that duty is due to my uncle. So we must +part!--Take care of yourself.--How did you catch that fever?" + +"By over-exertion in returning to my boat by Orwell Park, the night I +left your father. We struck across the country, as we heard of our +pursuers, and came to the shore greatly heated with our run. The wind +was fair for us, and I had nothing else to do but to sit still. I +covered myself with a piece of damp sail and fell asleep, and when I +awoke I found myself as stiff as a mast--I could not move a limb. But I +will take care of myself for your sake, Margaret, for the future." + +By this time they had just arrived at the vicarage palings, upon their +return, where the angle of the street branched off, and for a moment +they paused to take the farewell salute which faithful lovers ever +appreciate. + +They little thought who was near to hear their last parting words, and +to witness that love which they thought no one but themselves beheld. +The farewell was spoken, and Laud departed. Margaret stood a moment, +with affectionate heart and tearful eye, to watch his receding form, and +then, turning round the corner to go to the shop, she encountered the +enraged Mrs. Leader. She could only walk on in passive silence through +the village, whilst her aunt's voice, rising higher and higher as she +approached her own domicile, made the neighbours peep out of their +windows to learn the cause of such a disturbance. At last they arrived +at home, and Mr. Leader, with a thousand exaggerations, was informed of +his niece's atrocious conduct. + +She eyed the poor girl with such malignant satisfaction, as if she had +already seen her condemned, by judge, jury, counsel, and all the court. +Poor Margaret! she had not attempted to speak; she felt for her +uncle--she felt for his children--she felt for her lover; but for +herself, nothing. She knew her own heart, and felt keenly the cruelty +and injustice of her aunt's spiteful accusations; but that did not wound +her so much as to see the crestfallen distress of the master of that +cottage, who, but a short time before, never addressed her but in thanks +or praise. + +Margaret sighed, looked at her uncle, and briefly explained her +accidental meeting with William Laud. + +This only caused Mrs. Leader to break out into a fresh passion. She +abused her husband, abused Margaret, her lover, her father, her brother, +and every one connected with her. The base reflections she heard cast +upon her family roused the poor girl's indignation, and, after telling +the enraged woman a few home truths, expressed her determination to quit +the house. + +"I shall leave you now--yes, before another hour is gone. I shall only +kiss the children, pack up my little bundle, and then I take my +departure. Uncle, I have done my duty by you, and I sincerely wish you +happy. I have had nothing of you, and have nothing to leave behind me, +but my humble blessing for yourself and your children. Give me your +hand, uncle; let _us_, at all events, part good friends. You know that I +do not mind the night. A journey to me at this time, under these +circumstances, is no more than a journey would be by day. As to you, +aunt Leader, whether you shake hands with me or not must rest with your +own self. I would not part even with you in malice. Good-bye, aunt +Leader. Good-night!" + +Mrs. Leader had heard enough; she had met with a spirit which, when +roused, was equal to her own; and though she looked as if she could have +dashed the poker at the poor girl before her, she dared not stir an +inch: the fury fell back from her seat, and went off in a fit. + +Margaret stayed that night, but not another day. The next morning she +set her uncle's breakfast out, saw the children dressed, and sent to the +school, and then went upstairs to pack up her own bundle. Before doing +so, however, the Bible, which had been given her by John Barry, +attracted her attention. It was a small clasped book, and, from being +unable to read it, she had never made any outward parade of her +possession of it. On now seeing it, she mechanically unclasped the book, +and in the first page there lay a L5 bank-note, and in the last page +another of the same value. What a treasure was here! How did her heart +bless the noble generosity of the youth who, at a time when money was of +the greatest value to him, thus sacrificed a great share of his riches +to the welfare of one who could never personally thank him for it! + +Margaret had made up her mind, however, to seek a situation for herself +in Ipswich. She remembered the kindness of the worthy surgeon who had +attended her sister in her childhood, and poor John Barry when he was +wounded, and she resolved to seek his aid. With a full heart, she +carefully replaced the notes as she found them, resolving to store them +up against a time of need. And, with more consciousness of independence +than she had ever before felt, she packed up her little bundle, and went +to take leave of her uncle and aunt. + +With five shillings, the gift of her uncle, a half-guinea, the gift of +her brother Charles, and a bundle, not a very weighty one, Margaret +Catchpole departed from Brandiston. But, fearing her aunt's displeasure, +and that she would send strange reports to Nacton, and that her own +presence under her father's roof would give some countenance to these +malicious falsehoods, she determined not to return home, but to take the +road to Woodbridge. + +At that time, Noller's wagon, from Ipswich to Woodbridge, Wickham +Market, and Framlingham, passed her upon its return; and the driver +asking her if she would like to ride, she gladly accepted the offer. +They arrived at Ipswich about two o'clock in the afternoon. Margaret +determined to seek a place immediately, and for that purpose brushed the +dust off her gown, and made herself as decent as her poor wardrobe would +allow, and arrived at the door of Mr. George Stebbing, under very +different circumstances from those which had formerly brought her to the +same spot. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A CHEERFUL CHANGE + + +He was a merry, cheerful man, the active surgeon, who lived in the tall, +red-bricked house, in Orwell Place. His practice was good, extending +from the best families in the town and neighbourhood of Ipswich, to that +which is always the most benevolent part of a surgeon's duty, the +dispensing medicine and advice to the poor. George Stebbing was an early +riser, and a very active practitioner; he was skilful and attentive; and +it was truly said of him, that he never neglected a poor patient to +attend a rich one. He had his rounds before breakfast, among his poorer +patients; next his town practice; and his country visits in the +afternoon. He generally contrived to be found at home from nine to ten +o'clock in the morning; and from two to three in the afternoon, always +dining at one. + +There was one passion, if it may be so called, which, at certain seasons +of the year, made the doctor break through all his rules and +regulations, and to which he so willingly gave way, as to cause him +serious loss of practice among family patients, who could not make +allowances for his neglect,--namely, a passion for shooting. He was an +excellent shot, delighted in the exercise, and enjoyed it as much in his +old days as he did in his youth. His figure scarcely ever altered +through life. He never grew corpulent, never inactive; but retained his +zest for his gun, with a steady hand, to a good old age. + +But for this passion for shooting, the doctor might have secured for +himself a more extensive and lucrative practice. It certainly was a kind +of passport among many great landed proprietors, who liked his shooting +and his society, and for a good day's shooting, come it when it might, +many of his patients were neglected. He was of a very generous nature, +and sometimes felt keenly the reproaches of those whom for the sports of +the field he deserted; and there were times in which his own conscious +neglect made him sorrowful; but it did not cure him of his favourite +propensity. At all other times, he was as regular as a well-cleaned +clock. + +Margaret arrived at this gentleman's door, and was shown into the +surgery just as he was preparing to go into the country. The surgery was +a lofty room, though of small dimensions; the window looked down a +neatly paved area, beside the offices of the house; and flower-stands, +filled with geraniums and other green-house plants, stood against the +side of the wall opposite the kitchen. All was neatness within and +without the walls of his house. + +She had scarcely been seated in the surgery a minute, before in came the +merry man, with his cheerful smile and ready address. "Well, young +woman, what's the matter with you, eh? What is it? A bad tooth? let us +see--let us see. It can be nothing else. You look the picture of health! +What's the matter?" + +"Nothing is the matter, sir," said Margaret, rising and curtsying. + +"Then what do you want with the doctor, my girl?" + +"I am come to ask you, sir, if you could help me to a place." + +"A place!" cried the doctor; "why, whom do you take me for? Did you +think my surgery was a register-office for servants? What have I to do +with places? Who on earth sent you to me?" + +"No one sent me, sir; I came of my own accord, because you are the only +person that I know in Ipswich." + +"Well, they say a great many more people know Tom Fool than Tom Fool +knows. I don't recollect ever seeing you before. I know not who you are +in the least." + +"What, sir! do you not remember when you lifted me off the pony at your +door, ever so many years ago, and called me a brave little girl, and +told me, when you left me at my father's, that if ever I wanted a friend +I should find one in you?" + +"What! are you the girl that made the pony go? Can you be Margaret +Catchpole, the heroine of Nacton Turf?" + +"I am Margaret, sir; I left my uncle's, at Brandiston, this morning, and +am come to Ipswich in search of a place. I have lost my sister, my +mother, and two brothers, and, knowing no one in Ipswich but you, I +thought, sir, as you promised to help me, you would not be offended at +my asking. I only want to work and live without being burdensome to any +one." + +"Well, and what place do you want, my girl?" + +"I can do any kind of plain work, sir, from the cow-house to the +nursery." + +"Nursery! nursery! do you know anything about the care of children?" + +"I am very partial to children, sir, and children are very fond of me; +my uncle had seven little ones, and only me to look after them until he +married again." + +"Humph!--Well, go into my kitchen, my girl"--and here the kind-hearted +man opened his door and introduced her to his cook. "Sally, this is the +girl that rode the pony for the doctor, see and take care of her. Where +is your young mistress?" But suddenly turning round as if a thought +struck him he said, "Margaret! Margaret! my girl, stop one moment, I +must know if you have quite recovered from that complaint you had +before you left the Priory Farm?" + +"Dear me, sir, I never was ill there." + +"Oh! yes, you were, Margaret; if you remember, I had to feel your pulse +and prescribe for you; your heart was very bad?" + +"Oh! no, sir, I hope not." + +"Let me ask you one question, Margaret--Have you done with the smuggler? +Because, though I should be glad to serve _you_, I should be sorry to +run the risk of introducing bad acquaintances into any respectable +family where I might recommend you." + +This was another terrible blow for poor Margaret, and how to answer it +she knew not; she remained silent and abashed, and the worthy surgeon +was touched more by her silence than if she had spoken ever so much; it +told him at once the state of the case. + +"Well, well, my girl, I see how it is; but you must not encourage him to +visit you when you are at service. Go! go! I will talk to you another +time." + +And Margaret was again an inmate in that kind man's house, who always +was a steady and sincere friend to her throughout her eventful career. +He had at that very time made up his mind to write a note of +recommendation to a lady who lived at the Cliff, upon the banks of the +Orwell; but he delayed it for a day or two, on purpose to hear what +report his own domestic gave of her. And here Margaret remained in the +humblest and purest enjoyment of peace and quietness that she had felt +for many years. + +It was a lovely evening in the latter part of the month of May, when the +mackerel-boats were coming up the Orwell, being unable to reach the +mouth of the Nore, that old Colson (better known to the reader as +Robinson Crusoe) rowed his little boat up to the landing-place, close to +the Cliff Brewery, and startled some young children who were watching +the tiny eels playing about those large dark stones which formed the +head of the landing-place. Here a stream of fresh water, gushing from +beneath, formed the outlet of the canal stream which turned the great +wheel in the brewery of John Cobbold, Esq. + +The eels from the river, especially the young ones, used to be +incessantly playing about this outlet, striving either to get up into +the fresh water, or else feeding upon the animalculae which came from the +canal, and tried to get back again out of the salt water. + +The old man lifted up some small sand-dabs for the children, all alive +and kicking, and gave them to them, with which they soon bounded up the +Cliff steps, and ran joyously to a lady, who, with two gentlemen, sat +sketching under the lime-trees which then fronted the small +dwelling-house adjoining the more lofty buildings of the brewery. + +The lady was Mrs. Cobbold, and the two gentlemen were her friends, and +both eminent artists in their day. One had already greatly distinguished +himself as a portrait-painter, and vied with Sir Joshua Reynolds in his +own particular school of painting: this was Gardiner, a distant relative +of the lady. He was a singular old gentleman, in every way a talented +original; his family groups, in half crayon, half water-colour, gained +general admiration; and to this day they stand the test of years, never +losing their peculiar freshness, and remain as spirited as on the first +day they were painted. The other was indeed but a boy, a fine +intelligent lad, with handsome, open countenance, beaming with all the +ardour of a young aspirant for fame: this was John Constable, who was +then sketching the town of Ipswich from the Cliff, and brushing in the +tints of the setting sun, and receiving those early praises from the +lips of that benevolent and talented lady which became a stimulus to his +exertions, before he was raised to the eminence of a first-rate +landscape-painter. + +Gardiner delighted in the buoyant group of children, who, with their +flapping fish, came bounding up the Cliff. "Look here! look here! see +what old Robin has given us." + +The artist's eyes dilated with glee as he quickly noted down their +jocund faces and merry antics for some future painting. If he had +experienced pleasure in the character of James, Thomas, George, +Elizabeth Ann, and Mary, what a fine master-figure was now added to the +group in the person of old Robin, the fisherman, who, with his basket of +mackerel and soles, stood behind the children in front of the happy +party! + +Gardiner's picture of the "Fisherman's Family" was taken from this +group, and it was one which in his mature years gained him much +celebrity. + +"Well, Robin, what fish have you got?" said the lady, "and how do the +witches treat you?" + +"As to the first, madam, here are mackerel and soles; as to the latter, +they treat me scurvily!" + +"What's that? what's that?" said Gardiner; "what's all that about the +witches?" + +Old Colson looked at him a minute, and partly believed he was a brother +sufferer; for Gardiner never was what the world has since denominated a +dandy, he was never even a beau; he was careless in his dress, and very +abrupt in his address,--extremely clever and extremely eccentric. + +"Why, this is it," said the old fisherman, "if the foul fiend treats you +as he does me, he makes us both such hideous objects that nobody can +bear to look at us." + +There was no little colour in the artist's face at this moment: he had +met with a light and shade, an odd mixture upon his palette not easily +defined, and he looked himself rather vacant upon the fisherman. + +"I see how it is," said Robin; "they have been at work upon you, and +have put your robes out of order; but give them a blast of this ram's +horn, and you will soon get rid of them." + +Here the old man presented a ram's horn to the astonished artist. + +"What does the man mean, Mrs. Cobbold? what does the man mean?" + +This was rather a delicate point to answer; but the little shrewd Mary, +who perfectly well knew what the old man meant, said at once with the +most perfect innocence-- + +"Oh, Mr. Gardiner! Robin means that you look so dirty and shabby that +you must be bewitched." + +At this moment a servant brought a note to the lady, which, on opening, +she read as follows:-- + + "MY DEAR MADAM, + + "You mentioned to me some time since that you wanted a good strong + girl who could assist in the double capacity of a laundress and a + nursery-maid; the bearer of this is Margaret Catchpole, whom I have + known from her infancy. My cook tells me she is very quick at + learning, and very handy at any work that may be required of her; + she also states herself to be very fond of children. She lived + servant-of-all-work at the Priory Farm, and has since kept her + uncle's house, where she has had the care of seven young children. + Mr. Notcutt, who knew her when she lived at service at Bealings, + speaks highly of her character. I think you will find her a very + useful servant; and if you have not engaged one, I really think you + will be satisfied with this young woman. Wishing that such may be + the case, believe me to remain, my dear madam, yours faithfully, + + "GEORGE STEBBING. + "Orwell Place, + "May 25th, 1793." + + +As Mrs. Cobbold opened the note, the artists retired; and she told the +footman to send the young woman round to the front of the house, and she +would speak to her there. She then kindly addressed the old fisherman:-- + +"I wish, Robin, I could find a charm which would drive all these fiends +away from you at once, that you might become a believer in a more +blessed agency than in such unhappy beings." + +"Ah! bless you, lady! bless you! If your wish could but be gratified, I +should soon be at liberty; but it will never be so: they have taken up +their abode with me, and as long as they can torment me, they will. I +knew last night that there would be a storm, and, sure enough, there was +one; but my old barque rode it out, though many a tighter craft went to +the bottom. My foes, though they love to punish my flesh, will not let +me perish." + +"That is but a vain hope, Robin, which will one day deceive you: you +trust too much in your crazy barque, and to a no less crazy imagination; +and, when too late, you will own your self-delusion." + +His benefactress could not succeed in arguing him out of his belief, and +had just told him to leave the fish at the back-door, as Margaret made +her appearance before her future mistress. + +She started back when she beheld Robin, and again thought that some evil +genius had determined to oppose her wherever she went. + +"Ah! is that you, Peggy? It's many a long day since I've seen you. Have +the fiends played you any more tricks?" + +Margaret made her curtsy to the lady, but dared not reply to the +salutation of the old fisherman, lest he should betray the secret of her +heart. She was evidently confused. + +"You need not be so proud either, young woman, as to forget a friend; +but you are like the rest of the world:--'Those whom we first serve are +the first to forget us.' Now, to my mind, you're a fit match for Will +Laud, and he's about as ungracious a chap as any I know." + +The tear started into Margaret's eye, and she could not utter a word. In +the accents of kindness, however, the lady addressed the trembling girl. + +"You must not mind all the wanderings of old Robin, you will be better +acquainted with him hereafter." + +"And so will you, ma'am, with her before long. The foul fiend has long +dwelt with her and hers, and you'll soon find that out. I've known her +almost as long as I've known you, ma'am; and if she's a-coming to your +service, why, all I can say is, there will be pretty pranks a-going on +in your house." + +Here the poor girl could refrain no longer from tears; she sobbed as if +her heart would break, and the scene more than commonly interested the +benevolent lady. + +"What has Robin known of you, young woman, that he should speak so +harshly against you? How have you offended him?" + +"I never offended him, ma'am--never that I know of! He was very kind to +me, and once, ma'am--once----" and here Margaret paused, and could not +finish her sentence. + +Robin now quickly saw he was mistaken, and going close up to the girl, +he said,-- + +"I ask your pardon, Peggy! I thought you were proud--I see how it is! I +see how it is!--Forgive me! forgive me, ma'am! She's a good girl; aye, +she's a clever girl! I thought she was a bit proud, so the fiend made me +bark at her, that's all;" and, making his bow, he went with his basket +of fish to the back-door. + +The lady evidently saw there was a mystery; but, well knowing the sudden +changes of the bewildered mind of the fisherman, although she always +found a shadow of truth about all his ravings, she placed no faith in +any of his prognostications. She did not again question Margaret upon +that subject, but spoke to her about her duties. She found her fully +sensible of what she might have to do, and quite ready to undertake the +place. She agreed to give her, progressively improving wages, and told +her that as Mr. Stebbing had given her a recommendation, she should try +her. Mrs. Cobbold desired her to come on the morrow, and wished her +good-evening. + +The next day saw Margaret an inmate of that family where her name will +never be forgotten; where she spent so many days of real, uninterrupted +happiness; where she became respected by her mistress and family, and +was a very great favourite with all her fellow-servants. Margaret came +to her new place with a good character; with youth, health, hope, and a +willing mind for work. By the advice of the doctor's old servant, she +came (by means of John Barry's generous gift) with every article clean, +new, and decent, and had the sum of six pounds left for a nest-egg. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE NEW PLACE + + +There is no class of persons in society so much neglected as domestic +servants, none who are placed in more responsible stations, to whom more +confidence is given, and from whom more is expected; yet there are none +who are less instructed, except in the duties of their stations, and +even these they have to learn as they can. The law visits no one with +severer penalties for any dereliction of duty; and the world makes fewer +allowances for their faults than for those of any other class. + +The excellent lady in whose service Margaret was placed was one who felt +this truth, and took every opportunity she could to improve the minds of +all who came under her roof. She was one of the most enlightened of her +sex, with a mind cultivated to the highest degree, and acquainted from +her infancy with many of the leading persons of the day, in art, +literature, and science. And she was not less domestic than enlightened. +The writer of these pages knew her well, and loved her dearly. He +admired her with deep and reverential love. He was not able, indeed, to +appreciate the full extent of her benevolent character till years had +snatched her away, and left him "never to look upon her like again." +This he can truly say, that, in the course of twenty years' +acquaintance, he never knew what it was to have a dull moment in her +company. Lest any may think this is saying too much, let some of those +who now occupy public stations of importance, and some of whom were her +domestic servants, say, how much they were indebted to her instructions. +Let some, even of a higher and more independent class, who have since +attained the pinnacle of their professions, tell how much they were +indebted to the first encouraging advice of her, who saw and prized +their talents, and rejoiced in their development. She was a most kind +benefactress to all who needed her advice or assistance, and to none was +she a greater friend, and by none was she more deeply loved, than by the +poor girl whom she took into her service, as a sort of general help in +the humblest station in her family. + +At the Cliff there was not a single individual in whom the mistress did +not feel a deep interest. None were beneath her notice; none came near +her whom she did not strive to improve. Though she commanded the hearts +of many highly distinguished persons in the drawing-room, she commanded +the affections of her family, and of every servant under her roof. Poor +Margaret appeared to her an object of peculiar interest. Ignorant as she +found her in letters, and in many things relating to her situation, +there was in her a capacity, which this lady discovered, to require +nothing but instruction to perfect it. Readily did she comprehend when +the kindness of her mistress was shown in condescending to teach her, +and rapid was the progress she made in everything explained to her. + +Margaret had a difficult situation to fulfil even in the household +arrangements of this excellent lady; for she was under-nursemaid in the +morning, and under-cook in the evening; two very different stations, but +both of which she discharged with fidelity, and at length rose in that +family to fill the head place in both stations at different periods. + +Her mistress had married a gentleman who had fourteen children living at +the time, and she had every prospect of seeing the number increase. It +required a woman of energy to direct the household affairs of such a +numerous family, as well as a woman of method and management in the +nursery. Well did Margaret second the work which the head nurse had in +hand. No one could be more indefatigable in her duties--none more +constantly employed. + +It was Margaret's especial province to walk out with the children, to +carry the young ones, and to lead now and then an elder one. A retired +and pleasant walk it was at the back of the Cliff to Sawyer's Farm, +either along the river's side to the Grove, or Hog Island, or through +the farmyard, up the sandy hill, from the top of which Ipswich and its +environs were so conspicuous. In all the innocent enjoyments of +children, Margaret took particular delight. She would make chains of +dandelions, whistles of cats' tails; collect lords and ladies, string +ladies' hair; make whips of rushes for the boys, and cradles for dolls +for the girls. Her eyes were ever watchful, her hands ever useful. The +children loved her, and bounded to her with pleasure, whenever the order +was given for a walk. She was equally dauntless in their defence, +whether it was against a dog, or the geese, or the cattle of the field, +or the gipsy, or the drunken sailor. + +During this service, an occurrence took place of a singularly +providential nature, which showed the sagacity of this poor girl, and +her presence of mind in so striking a light, that it is well worthy to +be here recorded. The children were all going for a walk, and Master +George and Master Frederic were listening at a rat's hole, under the +foundation of a building, where the workmen were making some +alterations, and had taken away a great deal of the soil, upon one side +of the brickwork. As Margaret came up with some half-dozen of the young +fry, the boys exultingly called to her to come and hear the old rat +gnawing something in the hole. + +Margaret approached, and with that natural quickness of perception with +which she was so gifted, saw danger in the situation of the children. +Listening one moment at the hole she was convinced that the creaking +sound she heard did not proceed from a rat. In another instant she +seized the children by their arms, and exclaimed, with a terror that +communicated itself to them all, "Come away! come away! that wall is +settling!" Scarcely had she ran with the children half a dozen yards +from the spot, when down came the wall in a mass of ruin that must have +buried them all beneath it but for the providential sagacity of this +young girl. To this day the circumstance is remembered by the parties +interested in it, and is looked upon as the interposition of their good +angel, in making use of this humble instrument for the preservation of +their lives. + +Margaret, by this time, could both read and write; for the lady, who +superintended the whole management of the nursery, had her regular +school-hours in the morning devoted to the minutiae of progressive +improvement. It was at one of these morning lessons that she discovered +Margaret's abilities. Hearing the children their lessons in history, and +examining them in the chronology of the kings of England, she was +surprised to hear Margaret prompting Miss Sophia, in a whisper, when the +child was at a loss for the right date. And when she came to question +Margaret, she found that this poor girl had been, though unknown to her, +her most attentive scholar. This induced her to take pains with her, and +to let her be a participator in all the most useful branches of a +nursery education. She was taught to read and write, and understand the +Bible history and the Gospel scheme of redemption; in all which studies +she became as well informed as any of the children. Soon after this, she +rose to be the head nursemaid. + +As the winter came on, the walks became more circumscribed; and though +she occasionally saw the old fisherman, with his basket of soles and +plaice, yet from him she could gather no tidings of her lover, good or +bad. To hear nothing may be better than to hear bad tidings; but some +may even think that bad news is better than none at all. The certain +knowledge of any catastrophe, if it has taken place, at ever so great a +distance, is always more satisfactory and consoling than years of +agonizing suspense. + +Perhaps some such ideas might have passed in Margaret's mind; but she +had been so accustomed to hear nothing that was good of her lover, that +she began to construe the long interregnum of his non-appearance into +the hope of some permanent amendment. + +The Orwell, at the period of our narrative, and during the winter +season, was famous for its wild-fowl. At some particular times, when the +decoy-ponds around were frozen over, the birds used to come into the +channel of the river in prodigious flights, covering hundreds of acres +of water with their varieties of plumage. Millions of black coot used to +darken the waves, whilst the duck and the mallard, the diver, the +pin-tail, the bar-goose, and even the wild swan, used to be seen in such +numbers, as in the present day would seem to be incredible. Those, +however, who can remember this river only fifty years ago will fully +corroborate this account. Some live at Ipswich, at this day, who can +well remember the time in which they have made dreadful havoc among the +feathered tribes of the river. Now and then a solitary flight may here +and there be seen visiting the river in the evening, and departing with +the dawn. Since the port of Ipswich has so rapidly increased its +shipping, the traffic of winter, as well as summer, has been so +constant, that the birds have sought some quieter feeding-ground than +the ooze of the Orwell. + +It was at the time when these birds were most frequent, that the young +fowlers of the port used to have extraordinary tales to tell of the +numbers they had killed, and the escapes and adventures they had met +with in the pursuit. One of Mr. Cobbold's younger sons had a great +_penchant_ for this sport, and, though quite a lad, would venture upon +the most hardy enterprises with the weather-beaten sailors, who had been +long accustomed to the river. He was a good shot, too, for a boy, and +would bring home many a duck and mallard as the fruits of his own +excursions. + +It was about four o'clock, one winter evening, when this young gentleman +was seen descending the steps of the Cliff, with the oars over his +shoulder, and his gun in his hand. He looked at the cloudy sky, and +thought he should have good sport upon the river before the morning. His +sisters, Harriet and Sophia, saw him stealing down the Cliff, and he +requested of them not to take any notice of his absence. He unlocked his +boat, and shoved off into the channel alone, rejoicing in the thought of +the _spolia opima_ he should expose next morning at the breakfast-table. + +At tea-time, all the numerous party seated themselves round the table, +before piles of hot toast and bread and butter; and the venerated father +came from his own private room to take his seat with his affectionate +wife and children. He cast his eye upon the party, and looked round the +room, evidently missing one of his children. "Where's William?" he +inquired. The sisters, Harriet and Sophia, began to titter. "Where's +William?" again asked the anxious parent; and the lady, who had been +reading some new book, which had absorbed her attention, had not until +then missed the boy. + +Mr. Parkinson, the confidential clerk, a distant relative, replied, +"Master William has gone out in his boat to shoot wild-fowl." + +"What! on such a night as this? How long since?" + +"Two hours or more, sir." + +The worthy parent rose from his seat, summoned the clerk to follow him +immediately, and, with a fearful expression of countenance, which +communicated terror to the whole party, he said, "Depend upon it, the +child is lost!" + +It was a night on which no reasonable man would have suffered even the +stoutest and strongest sailor to go down the river for such a purpose. +The tide was running out fast, and the ice was floating down in great +masses, enough to stave a stout boat. A piercing sleet, the forerunner +of a snow-storm, drifted along with the wind. Altogether it was as +dismal as darkness and the foreboding anxiety of a fond parent's heart +could make it. Yet Master William, a mere stripling, was upon the +waters, in a boat which required at least two stout men to manage her, +and at the mercy of the storm. Had not his father by mere chance missed +him, and made inquiries about him, he would not have been heard of till +the next morning, and then they would have spoken of his death. As it +was, the sequel will show how nearly that event came to pass. + +The brewhouse men were summoned, two stout fellows, who were put into +the small boat, and it then came out that Master William had taken the +oars belonging to the little boat, to manage a great, heavy craft that +was large enough to hold a dozen men. + +Mr. Cobbold and his clerk went along the shore, whilst the two men in +the skiff, with great oars, shoved along the edge of the channel. +Occasionally the parties communicated by voice, when the lull of the +waves and winds permitted them to do so; but no tidings of the lost boy +could be obtained. + +What agony did that truly good father endure, yet how mild was his +censure of those who ought to have prevented such a lad incurring such +danger! + +In the midst of these anxieties, there was one who shared them with as +much earnestness as if she had been the mother of the child; and this +was Margaret Catchpole. No weather, no winds, no commands of her +master's, could overrule that determined activity of mind which this +girl possessed, to lend a helping hand in time of danger. She had thrown +her cloak over her head, and followed her master with the hope that she +might be of some service. + +The party on the shore could no longer hear even the voices of those +who were in the boat, as the channel took them round the bed of ooze to +the opposite shore. Still did they pursue their course, calling aloud, +and stopping to listen for some faint sound in reply. Nothing answered +their anxious call but the cold moaning of the wintry wind. They +stretched their eyes in vain; they could see nothing: and they had +walked miles along the shore, passing by the Grove, Hog Island, and the +Long Reach, until they came to Downham Reach. No soul had they met, nor +had any sound, save the whistling of the curlew and the winds, greeted +their ears. The anxious father, down whose cheeks tears began to steal +and to stiffen with the frost, gave his dear son up for lost. He had +lived so long by the river, and knew so well its dangers, that it seemed +to him an impossibility he should be saved; and he turned round just by +the opening to the Priory Farm, and said to his clerk, "We must give it +up;" when Margaret said, "Oh, no, sir, not yet; pray do not give it up +yet! Let us go on farther! Do not go home yet." + +Thus urged, her master turned again to pursue the search, and she +followed in his path. + +About a hundred yards onwards, under the shade of the wood, they met a +man. + +"Who goes there?" was the question of the anxious father. + +"What's that to you?" was the rough uncourteous reply, strangely grating +to the father's heart at such a moment. + +In those rough sounds Margaret recognized Will Laud's voice. She sprang +forward, exclaiming, to the no small astonishment of her master, "Oh, +William! Mr. Cobbold has lost his son! Do lend a hand to find him." + +It is needless to dwell upon the mutual surprise of both parties at such +a rencontre. Laud was equally astonished at Margaret's presence at such +a time, and Margaret herself felt an indescribable hope that her lover +might render some effectual service. + +"I beg pardon, sir," said Laud, "but I did not know you." + +"My son went down the river in a boat some three or four hours since, +and I fear he is lost," said Mr. Cobbold. + +"I came up the river as far as I could, and have seen no boat. The +floats of ice were so troublesome, that I resolved to come ashore, and +walk to Ipswich. Had there been a boat between Harwich and the Nacton +shore, I must have seen it. I landed close by Cowhall, and I know there +was no boat on the river, at least so far." + +At that moment they thought they heard some one call. They listened, and +plainly heard the men hallooing from the boat. + +"Ahoy! Ahoy!" called out Will Laud. + +They then listened again, and recognized the voice of Richard Lee, one +of the brewing-men, who called out,-- + +"We have found the boat, but no one in her." + +"Aye, sir," said Will Laud, "then the young gentleman has got ashore!" + +"I fear not!" said the father; "I fear he is lost!" + +Laud feared the same, when he heard that the young lad had taken no +mud-splashers with him: "But," he added, "if the youth knew the river, +he would get out of his boat, and walk by the edge of the channel till +he came to this hardware, and then he might get ashore." + +"What is that dark spot yonder, by the edge of the water?" said +Margaret, as she stooped down to let her eye glance along the dark level +line of the mud. + +"It is only one of the buoys," said the father, "such as they moor ships +to in the reach." + +"There is no buoy in that part of the river," said Will. "Margaret sees +something, and so do I now. I don't know what it is, but I soon will +though." + +And without more ado, he stepped on to the mud and was soon upon +all-fours, creeping along, and dragging his body over the softest +places of the ooze, where he must have sunk into the mud up to his +waist, if he had kept an erect posture. As he advanced, he evidently saw +something lying close to the water's edge, and, after great toil, he +came up to it. True enough he found it to be the stiff body of the poor +youth they had been in search of. Lifting himself up, he called aloud, +"Ahoy! ahoy! Margaret, you are right;" words of such joy as were never +forgotten in after years by any of that party. + +Laud lost no time in hoisting the poor boy on his back, and, tying his +stiff hands round his own neck with his handkerchief, he crept upon the +mud again toward that shore where stood those anxious friends awaiting +his approach. The boy was, to all appearance, stiff and lifeless. The +hair of his head was one matted mass of ice and mud; his limbs were +stiff and frozen; one leg seemed like a log of hard wood, the other they +could bend a little. He had been up to his neck in the mud, and had +evidently been overcome with the exertion of extricating himself. His +clothes were drawn off his back, and had been used as mud-splashers, +until exhausted nature could make no further effort, and he had sunk, +unconscious, upon the ooze. Death seemed to have done his work. + +The only plan now was to get him home as soon as they could. Laud soon +constructed a carriage for him, of a hurdle, upon which he laid his own +jacket, the father's great-coat, and over him he threw Margaret's cloak. +Each of the four persons taking a corner of the hurdle upon their +shoulders, they made their way, as fast as possible, along the shore. In +this way they proceeded at a good round pace, until they reached the +Grove-side, where they met the other servants, coming in company with +the two brewhouse-men, with blankets and brandy, in case Master William +should be found. Their arrival was very opportune, as it enabled the +exhausted party to transfer their burden to the new comers. Mr. Cobbold +expressed his gratitude to Laud, and asked him to come on to the Cliff, +and rest himself that night, and he would endeavour to repay him in the +morning. + +"I thank you, sir," said Laud; "I was coming to see Margaret, and if you +would only grant me a word or two with her, it is all the favour I ask." + +"As many as you please, my man; but it would be better for her and you, +too, to be at the kitchen fire such a night as this, than to be talking +upon the banks of the Orwell." + +Laud seemed to hesitate; at last he said, "Well, sir, I will come." + +Soon afterwards the thoughtful Margaret said to Mr. Cobbold, "Had I not +better run forward, sir, and prepare the slipper-bath, and get the fire +lit in the bed-room, and have warm blankets ready, and send off for Dr. +Stebbing?" + +"Right, Margaret, right!" was her master's reply; "run, my girl, run! It +will be good for you, too. We shall soon follow you." + +On went the damsel, and soon passed the men carrying their young master, +and was the first who brought the joyful tidings that Master William was +found. In all her plans, however, she was anticipated by her +ever-thoughtful mistress. The amber room was prepared, as being the +quietest in the house. The bath, the hot water, the salt to rub his +benumbed limbs, were all ready; for it was concluded, that if he was +found, he would be in such a state of paralysation, from the effects of +the weather, as would make it a work of time to recover him. The boy was +sent off immediately for Mr. Stebbing. The whole family were in a state +of hushed and whispering anxiety. The two sisters, especially, who had +seen their brother depart, and had not spoken a word about it, were +deeply bewailing their own faults. In short, all was anxiety, all was +expectation, almost breathless suspense. Margaret's description to her +mistress was clear, simple, and concise. Her meeting with a sailor, whom +she knew when she lived at Priory Farm, and his acquaintance with all +the buoys on the river, all seemed natural and providential. She gave +orders immediately for a bed to be prepared in the coachman's room for +the sailor, to whose exertions they were so indebted for the restoration +of the child, dead or alive, to his affectionate parents. + +Voices were soon heard coming up the road from the shrubbery, and the +first who entered the house was the father, supporting the head, whilst +the others raised the body of the poor boy. Every exertion was now used, +but for some time no symptoms of life could be observed in him. The +doctor arrived, and he perfectly approved of the steps which had been +taken. He opened a vein, from which the smallest drop of blood exuded. +This he counted a good symptom. He then ordered a bath, at first merely +tepid, and by degrees made warmer. The blood began to flow a little +faster from the arm, and the doctor felt increased hope that the vital +functions were not extinct. With joy he noticed the beginning of a +gentle pulsation of the heart, and a few minutes afterwards of the +wrist, and pointed out these favourable symptoms to the anxious parents. +A little brandy was now forced into the throat. The lips, which had +hitherto been livid as death, began to show a slight change. At length, +in the midst of anxious exertions, the chest began to heave, and the +lungs to obtain a little play; a sort of bubbling sound became audible +from the throat; and, shortly afterwards, a moan, and then the eyelids +half unclosed, though with no consciousness of sight. Convulsive +shudders began to creep over the frame--an indication that a warmer bath +would be judicious. This was soon effected. As the warmth circulated +through the veins, the hands began to move, the eyes to open wider, and +to wander wildly over the space between them. At length they seemed to +rest upon the face of Margaret, who stood at the foot of the bath, and +down whose cheeks tears of hope literally chased each other. A faint +smile was seen to play upon his lips, which told that recognition was +returning. He was then removed from the warm bath to his warm bed. + +An hour afterwards, and their unwearied exertions were rewarded with +hearing Master William pronounce the name of "Margaret." Though so weak +that he could not lift his hand, yet his tongue whispered her name, as +if he felt she had been his preserver. + +He shortly afterwards interchanged smiles with the doctor and his +sisters, and presently afterwards, with his father's hand clasped in +his, he fell asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +BRIGHT HOPES + + +It is not surprising that Laud, as he stood by the kitchen-fire, and +scraped off the mud, a mixture of clay, weeds, and samphire, which were +clotted upon his coarse trousers, should be considered by the tenants of +that part of the house as a person worthy of all admiration. He had +signalized himself in more than one pair of eyes. The master of the +family and the head clerk had beheld his prowess, and had spoken most +highly of him. They had given orders that whatever he required should be +furnished for him. No wonder, then, that in Tom's, John's, or Sally's +eyes, he should shine with such increased lustre. In Margaret's he was +beheld with those feelings of love, and hope, and joy, which anticipated +rapid improvement after long drawbacks, and she saw the object of her +attachment at the most happy and propitious moment of her existence. The +joy of that evening was unalloyed. Master William was recovering. The +grateful father made Will and all his servants enjoy a hearty supper +together, before they retired to rest, and took care the social glass +was not wanting to make them as comfortable as possible. + +The whole establishment sat around the well-spread table before a +cheerfully blazing fire, and were descanting upon the dangers of the +night and the perils which Mr. William must have encountered. At this +moment the doctor entered. + +His curiosity had been excited by the account he had heard of Will Laud. +He easily distinguished that dark swarthy being, with his blue jacket, +changed, by the drying of the mud upon it, to a kind of dun or +fawn-colour. His black hair hung down over his shaggy brow with his long +man-of-war pigtail; and his whiskers, scarcely distinguishable from his +black beard, fulfilled the idea of the weather-beaten sailor which the +doctor had previously entertained. He was fully satisfied in his own +mind with what he saw. He came, he said, to report to Laud the state of +his patient; and after asking him a few questions, and making some +remarks upon his bravery, he wished them all a good-night, and returned +to the parlour, to encounter the entertaining queries of the intelligent +family at the Cliff. + +His report brought them another visitor. The door again opened, and +their mistress stood before her servants. They all rose as she entered, +and Laud above the rest; but whether from the strangeness of his +situation, or from the belief that the lady was about to speak to him, +the moment that his eye met that intellectual and penetrating glance of +inquiry, it became fixed upon the ground. The voice of thanks reached +him, as well as the words of praise. If they did not gratify _him_, they +did at least the heart of the poor girl who stood close by him. She +looked in her mistress's face, and in her heart blessed her for her +kindness. + +"Can we be of any service to you, young man?" said the lady. "We are +anxious to prove ourselves grateful to you: and in any way that you may +claim our future service, you will find us ready to repay you. As an +immediate help, Mr. Cobbold sends you this guinea, an earnest of some +future recompense." + +"Thank you, ma'am! Let Margaret have the guinea, and the thanks too; for +she first discovered the young gentleman." + +This was spoken by Laud without looking at the lady, or once lifting up +his eyes. Was it timidity, or was it shame? Perhaps Laud had never been +interrogated in the presence of a lady before that time. + +He was truly relieved, when Mrs. Cobbold, hoping, as she said, that he +had been well taken care of, and again thanking him for his assistance, +wished him a good night's rest, and took her departure. + +The opinion of the parlour was not so favourable to Laud as that of the +kitchen, as the character of the bold smuggler was estimated very +differently in each place. Mr. and Mrs. Cobbold, however, were not aware +that Laud was in the British navy, having been seized in his boat by a +pressgang, and been bound to serve his majesty three years on board the +_Briton_ man-of-war, then cruising off the coast of Holland. + +Such was the want of British seamen just at this period of the +breaking-out of the long war, that many smugglers received not only +their pardon, but good pay for joining the navy; and even those taken by +the pressgang were only punished, if it may be termed so, by a +three-years' well-paid service. Laud had been thus taken, and had been +so well received on board, that his captain, on the night in question, +had granted him permission to come up to Ipswich. He had offered him a +crew, but Laud said he knew the river, and would rather go alone, if the +captain would only lend him one of the small boats and a pair of oars. +He had promised to be on board again the next day. The request was +granted; for the captain was pleased with Laud's confession of his +object in undertaking to go alone--so, in spite of wind and weather, ice +and snow, he had rowed himself up the river Orwell as far as Nacton +Creek. + +These facts Will had already communicated to Margaret, who, rejoicing in +his present honourable position, overlooked the dangers of a +three-years' service in defence of his country. She felt more proud of +his presence that night at the Cliff than she had ever before done since +the day of his first entrance into her father's cottage. She did not +indeed experience that thrilling warmth of devotion which she once felt +when he visited her on the shores of Downham Reach; but love, through +all its shocks, was much more firm and really hopeful than even at that +enthusiastic period. + +Though Margaret became acquainted with the fact of Laud's admission into +the British navy, and he spoke openly in the kitchen of his ship and her +commander, yet these things were unknown in the parlour, where, as has +just been stated, his personal appearance and character stood at a heavy +discount. In the kitchen he was a hero, in the parlour a desperado. + +The doctor found Master William in a sound and apparently refreshing +sleep; and retired to a couch prepared for himself in an adjoining room, +in case his services might be required in the night. The servants soon +after parted for their respective dormitories, and Laud took leave of +Margaret for the night. + +It is scarcely possible to believe that Margaret, after all her fatigues +and anxieties, should have refused to retire to her room. She actually +begged permission to sit up all night with Master William. Vain were all +attempts at persuasion. She said she knew that if she went to bed she +could not sleep, and as she begged so hard to be permitted to sit up, +the request was granted. + +Hope is a sweet comforter to an anxious heart, and presented a vision of +future bliss to the wakeful spirit of the maid, which afforded her +occupation for the night, presenting to her the prospect of days to +come, when Laud should obtain an honourable discharge from his country's +service, where he was now numbered among the bold, the brave, and the +free, and in which the same Providence which had preserved him to +perform the good act of that night would, she hoped, still preserve him +for many more good deeds. In pleasant reflections the night passed away; +nor was there one in that family who did not join in the general +thanksgiving to God for the signal preservation of the youth, who was +wrapped in a profound and refreshing sleep, watched by the +ever-constant and faithful Margaret. The tempest of the night had swept +along, and was succeeded by a calm and glorious sun-rising, which shone +upon the glittering fields of snow. The fir-trees were weighed down with +the weight of the ice and snow lodged upon their branches, whilst the +beams of the sun made the drops of pendent icicles fall with a smart +sound to the earth. The sailor came down from his bedroom refreshed +after a sound sleep; and, after he had partaken of a hearty breakfast, +he shook hands with all the servants, and took a more tender leave of +Margaret: leaving his best wishes for the young gentleman, he returned +to his boat some miles down the river, and thence to his ship. + +He was gone before the Cliff party assembled at the breakfast-table, but +he took with him the best prayers of all, and most especially those of +the girl of his heart, for his future safety and prosperity. + +Master William gradually recovered, and took warning from this narrow +escape not to venture any more upon such dangerous excursions. Though +fond of boating, he lost the zest for wild-fowl shooting, and left it +for others to pursue who had not purchased experience at so dear a +price. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +ALTERCATION AND EXPLANATION + + +It was not long after these occurrences that Mr. Cobbold and his family +removed from the Cliff to a house in the town, a large family mansion, +formerly the property of C. Norton, Esq., on St. Margaret's Green, which +he had purchased, and thither he and his family would have earlier +removed but for some repairs which were not completed until that time. +It was a fine old mansion, fronting the town, with its entrance porch, +and lofty windows, with numerous attics; whilst its drawing, dining, and +breakfast rooms, faced the beautiful green fields which then skirted +the town towards the hills upon the Woodbridge Road. + +Mrs. Cobbold took the first favourable opportunity of questioning +Margaret respecting her attachment to Will Laud, of whose character she +spoke freely. Margaret spoke warmly in his defence, while she +acknowledged the truth of much that had been advanced against him, and +as warmly expressed her conviction he would reform. Sincerely did the +lady hope that all her poor servant's favourable anticipations might be +confirmed. + +Upon Margaret's spirits, however, this conversation, which was broken +off suddenly by the entrance of one of the servants, produced a +depression which greatly affected and afflicted her. Her mistress did +not appear in her eyes either so amiable, or so kind, or so just, or so +considerate, as she had always previously done. She began to suspect +that she was prejudiced even against her on Laud's account. She fancied +herself not so much beloved by her as she used to be, and that she did +not estimate her services as highly as, by her manner, she used formerly +to show that she did. Words which Margaret would never have thought +anything about at other times, when now spoken by her mistress, seemed +to import something unpleasant, as if her attachment was the reason of +their being uttered. She was never admonished now but she thought it was +because of her unfortunate acquaintance with Laud. Mrs. Cobbold did not +revert, in the least degree, to the past matter of confidential +conversation. Indeed, after her most devout aspirations had been made +for her servant's future comfort, she did not think about the matter. +But in Margaret's eyes every little thing said or done seemed to have a +peculiar meaning, which her own warped mind attached to it. In fact, she +became an altered person--suspicious, distrustful, capricious, and, in +many things, far less careful than she ought to have been. And all this +arose from that well-intentioned conversation, voluntarily begun on the +part of her mistress, but which had created such a serious +disappointment in Margaret's mind. + +A circumstance arose about the time of the removal of the family, which, +though simple in itself, tended very greatly to inflame that disquietude +in Margaret's breast, which only wanted to be stirred up to burn most +fiercely. + +Many of the things had been removed to St. Margaret's Green. Part of the +family had already left the Cliff, and were domesticated in the mansion. +Several of the children, especially all the younger ones, had become +familiarized with their far more extensive nursery: Margaret was with +them. The footman had been sent, together with the gardener, as +safeguards to the house; and even the old coachman, though frequently +engaged driving backwards and forwards from one house to the other, +considered himself, horses and all, as settled at the town-house. + +The Cliff began to be deserted, and in another day the master and +mistress would leave the house to those only who were to live in it. +Mrs. Cobbold and one or two of the elder boys were still at the Cliff. +The faithful old dog, Pompey, still kept his kennel, which stood at the +entrance of the stable-yard. Mr. Cobbold had been superintending the +unpacking of some valuable goods until a late hour, and his lady, at the +Cliff, was anxiously awaiting his return. It was a clear frosty night, +and the snow was upon the ground; but the gravel path had been well +swept down to the shrubbery gate. Pompey had been furiously barking for +some time, and had disturbed Mrs. Cobbold, who was engaged with her +book--some new publication of that eventful time. The two elder boys sat +by the fire. She said to them-- + +"I wish, boys, you would go and see what Pompey is barking at." + +"Oh! it is nothing, I dare say, but some sailors on the shore." + +The young men, for so they might be called, had taken off their boots or +shoes, and had put on their slippers, and very naturally were little +disposed to put them on again, and to move from a nice, comfortable +fire, into the cold air of a frosty night. + +Mrs. Cobbold finding, however, that she could not get on with her book +for the increasing rage of the dog, determined to go out herself. She +was a person of no mean courage, and not easily daunted. She thought, +moreover, that if she moved, her sons would leave their backgammon-board +and follow her, and, if not, that she might probably meet her husband. +She put on her thick cloak, threw a shawl over her head, and sallied +forth. As the door opened, Pompey ceased his loud bark, but every now +and then gave a low growl, and a short, suppressed bark, as if he was +not quite satisfied. Mrs. Cobbold walked down the gravel path toward the +gate, and, as she proceeded, she saw a man go across the path and enter +the laurel shrubbery directly before her. She went back immediately to +the parlour, and told the two young men what she had seen; but, whether +it was that they were too deeply engaged with their game, or that they +were really afraid, they treated the matter very lightly, simply saying, +that it was some sweetheart of the cottagers, or that she must have +fancied she saw some one. At all events, they declined to go out, and +advised her not to think anything more about it. + +This neither satisfied the lady nor old Pompey, who began again to give +tongue most furiously. Finding that she was unable to make them stir, +the lady determined to investigate the matter herself; and, telling the +young men her intention, she again went out, and advanced to the very +spot where she had seen the man enter the shrubbery. The traces on the +snow convinced her the man was in the shrubbery. In a firm and decided +voice, she cried out-- + +"Come out of that bush--come out, I say! I know you are there; I saw you +enter; and if you do not immediately come out, I will order the dog to +be let out upon you! Come out! You had better come out this moment." + +The bushes began to move, the snow to fall from the leaves, and out +rolled a heavy-looking man, dressed as a sailor, and apparently drunk; +he looked up at the lady with a villainous scowl, and staggered a step +towards her. + +"What do you do here? Who are you?" she said, without moving. + +"My name's John Luff. I--(hiccup)--I--I do no harm!" + +At the sound of his voice, Pompey became so furious that he actually +dragged his great kennel from its fixture, and as his chain would not +break, it came lumbering along over the stones towards the spot. + +As the fellow heard this, he began to stagger off, but at every step +turned round to see if the lady followed him. + +This she did, keeping at the same distance from him, and saying, "Be off +with you! be off!" She then saw him go out at the gate, and turn round +the wall, to the shore. + +Farther than her own gate she did not think it prudent to go; but when +she got so far, she was rejoiced to see her husband at a distance +returning upon the marsh wall to the Cliff. + +Old Pompey had by this time come up to the gate with his kennel behind +him, and evidently impatient to be let loose. + +She was engaged in the attempt to unloose the dog as her astonished +husband came up to the gate; he soon learned the cause of this +appearance, and immediately undid Pompey's collar; the animal sprang +over the gate, and ran along the shore till he came to the cut where +boats occasionally landed, and was closely followed by his master, who +plainly saw a man pulling into the channel in a manner which convinced +him he was no inexperienced hand at the oar. + +In the meantime an exaggerated report reached St. Margaret's Green, that +a sailor had been seen lurking about the premises at the Cliff, and that +he had attacked their mistress. + +Of course, the tale lost nothing but truth by the telling; and it was +affirmed in the kitchen that it was Will Laud himself. + +Some told Margaret the fact; she felt greatly annoyed, and was much +surprised that when Mrs. Cobbold came to the house the next day, she did +not speak to her upon the subject. She resolved that if her mistress did +not soon speak to her, she would broach the subject herself; but Mrs. +Cobbold put this question to her the next day:-- + +"Margaret, do you know a man of the name of John Luff?" + +"Yes, madam," she replied; "I do know such a man, and I most heartily +wish I had never known him." + +"I wish the same, Margaret," said her mistress, and then related her +recent adventure. + +"He is the man," said Margaret, "who perverted all Will's naturally good +talents, and induced him to join his nefarious traffickers. He is a +desperate villain, and would murder any one! Did he threaten you with +any violence? I am glad, indeed, that you escaped unhurt from the fangs +of such a monster." + +"He did me no injury," answered the lady. + +Another long conversation then followed between Mrs. Cobbold and +Margaret, in which the latter complained bitterly of the change she +fancied had taken place in her mistress's behaviour towards her. The +lady denied such change had taken place, and endeavoured to convince her +servant that the alteration was in her own disposition. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE RECONCILIATION + + +Whether it was that Margaret's fame had reached the village of +Brandiston, or that Mrs. Leader repented most bitterly the loss of her +assistance, or that her rents of the land and cottages began to be in +arrear and to fall off, and she herself found that poverty crept in upon +her, certain it was that something sufficiently powerful in its nature +prompted her to speak kindly to Margaret, whom she accidentally met that +very day as she was going across the Green towards Christ Church Park. +She had arrived at Ipswich with her husband, and was passing over the +Green just as Margaret with the children, all wrapped up in cloaks and +muffs, were going to see the skaters on the Round Pond in the Park. + +The meeting was much more cordial than could have been expected; but +Mrs. Leader was a changed woman. After the interchange of mutual +civilities, Margaret said that she should be home by four o'clock, and +if her uncle and aunt would call, she knew that her mistress would have +no objection to their coming into the house. Mrs. Leader even shook +hands with her, and promised to pay her a visit. + +What a wonderful change! thought Margaret, as she hastened on with the +little ones to overtake two or three of the impatient party, who were +looking behind from the Park-gate. + +The Park at Ipswich is a beautiful place in summer: twice a week were +its gates thrown open by the liberal proprietor of the domain to the +inhabitants of the town, who rambled along the shady chestnut walk to +its utmost bound. Many were the happy walks that infancy, delighting in +the sunny flowers of the mead, took in that lovely place; and many the +more tender and animating rambles which fond hearts and faithful lovers +in the days of youth enjoyed. Parents and their children breaking away +from the cares of business, delighted to stroll in holiday attire, and +repose themselves beneath the branches of those stately trees which +everywhere adorned the Park. There they heard the first notes of the +cuckoo; there they watched the green and spotted woodpecker; observed +the busy rooks; heard the nightingales, the thrushes, and the doves, and +spoke of all the innocent pleasures of nature. + +The spotted fallow deer crossed their path in a long line of rapid +flight, and assembled in a herd in the valley; the pheasant and the +partridge roamed about in pride and beauty; whilst the hare and the +rabbit, familiarized to the sound of children's voices, lifted up their +long ears, or stood up upon their hind legs to gaze upon them as they +passed. + +In the winter, the stragglers in the Park were comparatively few, +excepting at that period when the pond was frozen over, and became the +fashionable resort for company to view the skaters; thither the young +party whom Margaret had the care of resorted, to see the dexterous +movements of Counsellor Green, or some of his majesty's officers from +the barracks. The company that day was numerous, and the scene such as +would delight thousands, even were it in the gay metropolis; it would +have induced many of the fashionables to leave the warm, soft cushions +by the fireside, and to wrap themselves in furs, and to put on their +snow-shoes, and to enjoy the healthy, though frosty, air of Christmas. + +Many in the busy town of Ipswich left their labours and their cares for +a few hours' recreation; fair ladies ventured to lean upon a brother's +or a lover's arm and try the slippery ice; sledges, too, were in +requisition. + +Though the skating was good, and all the young people enjoyed it, +Margaret's thoughts were upon her uncle and aunt, and she was the first +to remind her young people that the old Christ Church clock had struck +four. + +Home they went, gratified and satisfied, talking of the frightful cracks +and heavy falls, and well-contested races, which they had mightily +enjoyed; when they came into the house they gave a lively account of all +they had seen. + +With Mrs. Cobbold's permission, Mr. and Mrs. Leader were invited to take +tea in the housekeeper's room, and Margaret was allowed to have a long +talk with them. + +She found her uncle much more chatty than her aunt, for sorrow and +coming poverty had cast their shadows before Mrs. Leader, and +wonderfully softened the asperity of her former purse-proud disposition; +she let her husband speak of all the family troubles, and did not once +interrupt him. Margaret soon learned that all their property was +mortgaged, and for its full value. She learned that the children were +barefoot, and neglected; that it would require steady management indeed +ever to bring them again into a prosperous or a comfortable state; she +felt for them all, and not only felt, but did all she could to +ameliorate their condition. She offered advice, which was taken in good +part by the now crestfallen aunt. + +A strange effect had that comfortable reception in the housekeeper's +room upon the nerves and manners of Mrs. Leader, she looked up to +Margaret as if she was a person of considerable consequence in that +family; she asked Margaret if she might also see the children; nothing +could have given Margaret greater pleasure. + +All in the nursery were delighted to see a visitor; and Mrs. Leader very +soon discovered that where management, cleanliness, and strict attention +are paid there will grow up order, regularity, and comfort; she stayed +some minutes with the happy family. As she returned to the housekeeper's +room, she sighed when she said to Margaret-- + +"I now wish I had never provoked you to leave us! I did not like to own +it, but, very soon after you were gone, I felt your loss; I hope you +will be able to come and see us in the summer, and should you ever be +tired of service, and wish for a home, you will find us very altered in +our manner to you, and more grateful for your services." + +Margaret could forgive all that her aunt had ever said or done to her; +she felt so happy in having been reconciled to her, that she could not +refrain from telling her so. She gave a portion of her wages for the +schooling of the children, and thanked her uncle and aunt for their kind +invitation. She even hinted that the time might come when her hopes of +settling in Brandiston might be realized, should Laud obtain his +discharge; in short, she promised to see them in summer, as she had no +doubt that she could obtain leave from her kind mistress. + +The day was gone, and the moon was high, and the sky was clear, and the +happy Margaret would have had them stay all night. She had received a +message to the effect that the pony might be put in the stable, and that +her uncle and aunt might sleep in the house; they prudently declined, +lest a deep snow might fall and prevent their reaching home; so off they +went, happier than they had been any day since their affectionate niece +left them, and this happiness arose from the reconciliation. + +It was a lucky thing for Mr. and Mrs. Leader that they went home as they +did that very night, for not long after their arrival home began that +severe winter and deep snow which formed one of the most remarkable +features in the history of the climate of England. + +It would be foreign to the present narrative to dwell upon the events of +that particular season, further than to refer to the great exertions +made by persons of all ranks and conditions, above actual distress, to +support the famishing poor. Houses were established in different parts +of the town of Ipswich for the public distribution of soup, coals, and +blankets, and various families agreed to furnish supplies for the +various days of the week. + +Margaret was now as busy in the kitchen as she had been in the nursery, +for at this time the cook of the family returned home ill, and no one +else could be found so apt as Margaret to supply her place. + +It was at this memorable season that her aptitude for this situation was +discovered, which led to such a change in her condition, as future pages +will record. A servant was soon found for the nursery, who supplied her +place, and she became the active cook of the family. In such a large +domestic establishment as that of Mr. Cobbold, the cook was a person of +the utmost consequence; and although there was a regular housekeeper who +acted as an intervening link between the parlour and the kitchen, yet +Mrs. Cobbold was by no means so unacquainted with the proceedings of her +house, as to be found negligent of a due supervision over every +department. + +In the new place Margaret had undertaken at the earnest request of her +mistress, her active powers of benevolence were now called into +existence. The feeling manner in which she represented to her +fellow-servants the destitution of thousands around them, and the great +sin there was in the least waste; the strong necessity now became a duty +in every one to deny themselves some portion of their daily bread, that +those who were starving might have a share; made a powerful impression +upon the domestics of that establishment. At this time, though a greater +allowance was made on account of the provisions given away by this +affluent family, yet such was the economy in the kitchen, and the +honest, self-satisfactory privation exercised by the whole house, that +not the least waste was made, and the accustomed expenditure was very +little increased. The poor, however, were bountifully supplied, and +Margaret's name was as justly praised below stairs, as, in past days, it +had been above. Little did she think that her activity, economy, and +management, which a sense of duty and charity had called into action, +would fix her in the kitchen at such an increase of wages, as, +comparatively, seemed to her like coming into a little fortune. She had +now become the head of all the domestics, from having been the servant +of all. She had an increase of toil, but she had a help under her. There +was dinner for the nursery, dinner for the kitchen, dinner for the +parlour, and that which is now almost obsolete, a hot supper for all the +house. But what is work to one who is strong and willing, and ready and +desirous of giving satisfaction? + +Time, fully occupied, passes on rapidly, and Margaret was now looked +upon with respect by the whole house. What a pity that that respect +should ever have been blighted, or that any circumstances should have +interfered with that peaceful enjoyment which she seemed at this time to +experience, and which in after years she never forgot! In leaving the +nursery, she left that frequent intercourse with her mistress, and +consequently that continued mental improvement which she had gradually +imbibed. She was not now under her immediate eye; she seldom heard that +sweet voice of approbation, pleasing beyond all expression from such a +mistress. + +It was one of those singular coincidences which happened in her eventful +life, that on the celebrated 1st of June, 1794, her lover, William Laud, +distinguished himself in Lord Howe's victory over the French, and was +one of the seamen appointed to bring home a splendid prize to +Portsmouth; and that Margaret herself, on the very same day, +distinguished herself in an aquatic feat, which would have been no +disgrace to a British seaman to have performed, and which exhibited a +degree of courage and presence of mind, truly wonderful in a female. + +In the garden belonging to the mansion at St. Margaret's Green was a +very deep pond, with turfed sides, which were sloping and steep, so that +the gardener had to descend to the water by a flight of six steps. +Formerly it had been a handsome square pond, with edges neatly kept, and +surrounded by alpine strawberry-beds. At the period of this tale, one +side opened into the adjoining meadow, and half of that extensive garden +was laid down to grass. To this day, the two stately weeping willows +may be seen dipping their pensile edges into the pond, though time has +lopped off many an arm, and somewhat curtailed them of their beauty. At +that time, when Margaret was cook at St. Margaret's Green, these trees +were the ornaments of the exterior of the town, and to have made a +sketch from the hill, on the Woodbridge Road, without including them, +would have been to have robbed the town of Ipswich of one of its most +prominent and pleasing features of landscape beauty. They were very +lofty, though pendent, and in the month of June, might be justly styled +magnificent. Hundreds of their boughs kissed the water with their thin, +taper points. The girl who had the care of the children had been often +warned not to go near the edge of the road. + +On this 1st of June, 1794, Margaret had entered the garden to gather +some herbs, and had scarcely closed the gate before she heard a sudden +shriek of distress. The voices of the children struck upon her, from the +centre of the garden. She ran down the path, and there she saw the whole +group standing and screaming at the edge of the pond, and the nursemaid +completely at her wits' end with fright. Master Henry had been running +away from his sisters, who were pursuing him down the path, and having +turned his head round to look at them, he did not perceive his danger. +His foot caught the edge of the grass border which surrounded the pond, +and he was precipitated head-foremost into the deepest part of it. In a +moment he was seen plunging and screaming for help, but all his efforts +only tended to carry him still further towards the middle of the pond: +he must inevitably have been drowned, had not Margaret at that moment +providentially entered the garden. + +Margaret's astonishing presence of mind enabled her to resolve in an +instant what it was best to do, and her heroic courage caused her not to +shrink from doing it; she ordered the nurserymaid to run with all speed +to the stables for a ladder and rope, and then creeping along the +strongest arm of the weeping willow that spread itself over the centre +of the pond, and going as far as she could towards the child, she +grasped a handful of those pendent branches which dipped themselves into +the water, and swinging herself by her right arm, into the pond, and +stretching out her left to the utmost, she seized the child by the +collar of his little jacket, and held him above the water until the +assistance she sent for arrived. + +It required both nerve and presence of mind, as well as bodily strength +to support herself in this position only for a few minutes. She +gradually drew the child nearer to her, and though in great danger +herself, her first words to him were, "Don't be afraid, Master Henry; I +have got you! Keep still! keep still! don't struggle!" + +The gardener and the coachman had by this time arrived with the ladder +and a rope, they let it down from the arm of the tree, resting the upper +stave just against its branches. The gardener descended a few steps, and +Margaret gave him the child, whilst she herself remained with the boughs +in her hand, until the boy was safe. She then requested them to throw +her the rope, that she might leave go of the willow and be drawn to the +side of the pond. She put the rope round her waist and took hold of it, +doubled, with both hands, and in this way was dragged through the water +to the bank. + +Thus was Margaret Catchpole, for the third time, the providential +instrument in preserving the life of a member of Mr. Cobbold's family. +It will not, then, be a matter of surprise, that the records of her life +should have been so strictly preserved among them. If there had been any +former coolness or misunderstanding between her and any of the domestics +of the family, this event completely reconciled all differences. It was +felt by one and all, that a woman who could risk her life to save +another's, in this manner, was worthy of their united respect. She was, +at this time, at the very summit of her reputation. A few days more +brought the news of that celebrated victory over the French fleet, +which added so much to the naval glory of Old England. In that victory +more than one Ipswich man partook, and returned to speak of the +engagement. One poor fellow, in particular, was sent home, desperately +wounded, who, for many years, became an object of respect, as well as +charitable attention, to many families in the town and neighbourhood. +This was poor old Jack, whose friends kept the Salutation public-house, +in Carr Street, who always went by the name of "What Cheer?" When he +first returned to his aunt, the landlady of the house, he had his senses +perfect, and could speak of the engagement with such clearness and +precision as delighted the seamen who frequented the house. He was on +board the same ship as Will Laud, and on the 1st of June they fought +side by side. + +Margaret heard of this, and used to go down to the public-house in +question, to hear from Jack all she could of one who was as dear to her +as her own life. He was desired by Laud to tell Margaret that he was +coming home with plenty of prize-money as soon as he could obtain his +discharge. It was this which gave her spirit such joy, and made her so +anxious to hear all she could of the battle; and, of course, of that +part which her lover took in it. Poor Jack's intellects, however, from +the severity of his wounds, and consequent attack of fever, became +irretrievably impaired; and though he recovered his health, and became a +constant visitor at St. Margaret's Green, yet he never could afterwards +give any connected account of the battle. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE ALTERATION + + +We left our heroine, in the last chapter, esteemed of every one who knew +her, and looking forward to what was to her the height of human +felicity--the reformation and return of her sailor-lover. No less true +than strange is the fact, that when we reach the highest pinnacle of +this world's happiness, some giddiness of the head is apt to make us +fall. So, at all events, it proved with the female who gives a title to +this book. It became matter of deep concern to every member of Mr. +Cobbold's family, to behold in her an alteration which no previous +circumstances in her life had prepared them for. There was nothing in +reason, and consistent with their own happiness, that her grateful +master and mistress would not have granted her. Any situation she wished +to attain, either for herself or for her friends, would have commanded +every exertion they could have made in her favour. She stood so high in +their opinion, and in every one's else who knew her, that it scarcely +seemed possible for her to forfeit it. Apparently she had nothing to +complain of; no cause for dissatisfaction; no inducement whatever to +alter her disposition. Yet an alteration did take place, and one which +became evident to every one. + +Where the heart is unsettled, things seldom go on well. There wants that +peace and security which can alone make the discharge of our daily +duties a daily pleasure. Margaret's early impressions of religion had +been of a very desultory kind, and here was the root of all the evil +that afterwards befell her. The want of fixed religious principles early +instilled into the young mind has caused many a good disposition to +give way to those changes and chances which happen in life, and to +create an alteration even in the brightest prospects. In the earliest +days of this child of nature, an innate humanity of disposition had been +cultivated and increased by her attendance on a sick and afflicted +sister and an aged mother, both of whom had constantly required her aid. +Her natural qualities were, as the reader has seen, up to this moment of +the noblest cast. Still, in the absence of any strong religious +sentiment, the best dispositions are at the mercy of violent passions, +and are subject to the most dangerous caprices. The reader must have +observed that, in the midst of all her good qualities, Margaret +Catchpole evinced a pertinacity of attachment to the object of her +affections, even in his most unworthy days--an attachment which no +circumstances whatever, not even the warning of her sister's death-bed, +could shake. She had built upon a vague hope of Laud's alteration of +life, and his settlement in some quiet occupation. She had been +accustomed to very great disappointments and vexations; and, with a +spirit above her years, she had borne them all, and had shown an energy +of mind and activity worthy of better things. How weak are all qualities +without the support of religion! At a time when promises seemed most +fair, when an unexpected reconciliation had taken place with her uncle +and aunt Leader, when Laud's return was daily expected, and all the +favours of a generous family were heaped upon her for her good +conduct,--at such a time an alteration of her disposition took place, +which embittered her existence for many years. She became peevish and +irritable, discontented and unhappy, moody and melancholy. She thanked +nobody for assistance, asked nothing of any one, and gave no reason to +any of her fellow-servants for this sudden alteration. Such would not +have been the case, had religion taught her, as it now does many in her +station of life, how to feel supported in prosperity as well as in +adversity. It is a trite saying, that "we seldom know when we are well +off." We are not content to "let well alone;" but too often foolishly +speculate upon the future, and fall into some present snare. + +Nothing had been heard of or from Laud, except that a sailor, who had +served with him in the glorious battle of the 1st of June, had visited +the town, and told Margaret that Laud was appointed to come home in one +of the prizes taken by Lord Howe; and that, probably, he was then at +Portsmouth, waiting until he should receive his prize-money and his +discharge. Margaret occasionally stole down in the evening to the +Salutation public-house, where the sailor was staying, to speak with +him, and to hear the naval news. She was here occasionally seen by other +sailors, who frequented the house, and learned where she lived. They +understood the bearings of her history, and some of them used to +fabricate tales on purpose to get an introduction into the kitchen at +St. Margaret's Green, where they were sure to be welcomed and well +treated by Margaret. She was, at this time, very anxious to hear tidings +of her lover, and day after day exhibited symptoms of restlessness, +which could not long be passed by without notice. The frequency of +sailors' visits to the kitchen began to be rumoured through the house, +and stories injurious to the reputations of the inmates were circulated +in the neighbourhood. Moreover, the housekeeper missed various articles; +and meat, and bread, and stores, began to be unaccountably diminished. +Inquiries were instituted, and it was found that Margaret had certainly +given such and such things to sailors; and without doubt, some things +were stolen. + +Under these circumstances, it became high time for the mistress of the +house to take notice of these things; and, in as gentle a manner as the +circumstances of the case would permit, she spoke to Margaret alone on +the subject. She regretted to hear from all quarters the alteration +which had taken place in her manner. She spoke to her most feelingly +upon the result of such a change, and with great kindness contrasted +the pleasure of the past with the sorrow which her late conduct +occasioned. + +"I cannot," she added, "permit sailors of every kind to be incessantly +coming to the house at all hours with pretended news of Laud, and so +deceiving you by playing upon your disposition, and then robbing you and +the house. Reports of a very unpleasant nature have reached my ears +injurious to your character and that of my establishment. I cannot +submit to these things; and, though I most sincerely regard you, +Margaret, yet I must make you sensible of the danger you incur by +listening to the artful tales of these men. I strongly recommend you to +have nothing to do with them. Your own character is of much more +consequence to you than their nonsensical stories. If you wish it, I +will write for you to Portsmouth to make inquiries about Laud; and, +rather than you should be in doubt and affliction, and in any +uncertainty about him, I am sure that your master will send a +trustworthy person to search him out and ascertain the cause of his +detention. + +"Let me see you henceforth what you used to be--cheerful and contented, +thankful and happy, and not over-anxious about matters which in the end +will all probably come right. You have my entire forgiveness of the +past, even though you do not ask it; but let me not be imposed upon for +the future. Go, Margaret, go; and let me hear no more of these +complaints." + +Margaret heard all that her mistress said in perfect silence. She +neither defended herself, nor yet thanked her mistress, as she used to +do. She seemed sullen and indifferent. She left the presence of that +kind lady and most sincere friend with scarce a curtsy, and with such a +pale, downcast countenance, as deeply distressed her benefactress. Then +was it the painful reflection occurred, that her servant's religious +principles had been neglected; that her duty as a servant had been done +from no higher motive than that of pleasing man; and that when she had +failed to do so, and received a rebuke, her spirit would not bear it. +These reflections pressed themselves upon the kind lady's mind, and she +resolved to do her best to correct for the future that which appeared so +deficient. + +Margaret returned to the kitchen unaltered, saving in feature; she was +silent, pale, and restless. She did her work mechanically, but something +appeared to be working upon her in a very strange way. She could not sit +still a moment. Sometimes she put down her work, and sat looking at the +fire, as if she was counting the coals upon it. At one time she would +rise and appear to go in search of something, without knowing what she +went for. At another time she would bite her lips and mutter something, +as if she were resolute and determined upon some point which she did not +reveal. Her fellow-servants did not lay anything to her, and took as +little notice as her strange manner would permit. They all considered +that something very unpleasant had occurred between herself and her +mistress. Some surmised that warning had been given; others that she +would leave of her own accord; but all felt sorry that one who had been +so highly esteemed should now be so perverse. + +One evening, in the midst of these domestic arrangements of the kitchen, +when all the servants were assembled, a knock was heard at the +back-kitchen door; the girl who opened it immediately called out, +"Another sailor wants to see you, Margaret!" + +Without rising from her seat, as she was accustomed to do with alacrity +upon such occasions, Margaret petulantly and passionately replied, loud +enough for the sailor to hear her through the door of the kitchen, which +now stood open, "Tell the fellow to go about his business! I have +nothing to do with, or to say to, any more sailors. Tell him to be off!" + +The sailor stepped one step forward, and pitched a canvas bag in at the +kitchen-door, which fell with a loud chink upon the bricks. He had heard +the words of Margaret, and was off in a moment. + +The reader will doubtless surmise that this was none other than Will +Laud. He it was who, at this unfortunate moment, returned, with all his +prize-money, on purpose to give it to Margaret, for whom he had kept it, +intending to purchase a shop at Brandiston, or one of the neighbouring +villages, where she might like to live. The bag had a label, directed + + "To Margaret Catchpole, + John Cobbold's, Esq., + Cliff, Ipswich." + +Had this unfortunate girl been in a different mood, she might have +recognized the voice, as she once did on that memorable night when Mr. +William's life was saved. She heard the rap, and the inquiry for her; +but knowing her mistress's commands, and believing the visitor to be one +of those whom she had styled impostors and thieves, she had, with +considerable energy and irritability, spoken those cutting words, which +sent him away in despair. + +What agony now struck upon the heart of Margaret! She started at the +sound of the bag as it fell at her feet; she looked bewildered for one +moment; the truth burst upon her, and she rushed out of the house with +such a wild shriek as pierced the heart of every one who heard it. She +ran into the street. The night was growing dark; but, on the opposite +side of the green, against the garden pales, she saw a sailor standing +and looking at the house. She ran to him, seized his arm, and exclaimed, +"Laud, is it you?" + +He replied, "Yes--hush!" + +"Come in, then; come into the house; I am sure you may come in." + +The sailor walked on, with Margaret by his side. He did not speak. This +Margaret naturally attributed to her late repulsive words, and she now +said, soothingly, by way of apologizing for her harshness-- + +"I did not intend to send you away. I have lately had several sailors to +speak to me about you, and I was only too glad to hear them; but my +mistress gave orders to me this day not to have anything more to do with +them. I am sure she did not mean to send you away--neither did I intend +it. Come back, come back!" + +"Come on, come on!" said the sailor, in as soft accents as he could. +And, by this time, they had approached the old granary wall, at the back +of the park stables. Opposite to these stables was a cow-keeper's yard, +with the dwelling inside the gates. The gates stood open: they might +rather be termed folding-doors, for, when shut, no one could see through +any part but the keyhole. The sailor turned in here with Margaret, as if +he knew the premises, and immediately closed the gates. A light glanced +from a window in the cottage, and fell upon the sailor's face. In an +instant Margaret recognized the hated features of John Luff. + +The poor girl was paralysed; she was completely in the tiger's claws; +she could not speak, her heart so swelled with agony. She thought of +this monster's cruelty, and believed him to be capable of any desperate +deed. She recovered sufficient presence of mind, however, to be resolved +to grapple with him, should he have any evil purpose in view. She +retreated a few steps toward the gates. He suspected by this that she +had discovered who he was, and he threw off the mask in a moment. + +"You know who I am, I see; and I know you. I do not want to harm you; +but I want to know something from you, which, if you tell me truly, you +shall receive no injury; but, if you do not tell me, I tell you plainly +that, as you are now in my power, so you shall never escape me. You +spoke just now of Will Laud. Now, no tacking about; bear up at once, and +come to the point. Tell me where he can be found." + +"I do not know," replied Margaret. + +"No lies, girl! You do know. You were expecting him from Portsmouth this +very night. I knew he was coming home with his prize-money; so did you. +I don't want his money, but I want him. I have sworn to take him, dead +or alive, and have him I will. You have seen him: I have not. Now tell +me where he is, and I will let you go; but if you tell me not, down you +shall go headlong into the well at the bottom of this yard!" + +The truth burst upon the poor girl's mind, that this fellow was watching +Laud to murder him. She was now convinced that it was Laud who came to +the back-kitchen door, and that he must have gone over the garden +palings towards the Woodbridge Road, instead of going into the street. +With a woman's heart beating high at the danger of her lover, she +inwardly rejoiced, even at this dreadful moment, that her sudden words +had perhaps saved Laud's life. She forgot her own loss, and her spirit +rose to reply firmly and boldly to the cowardly rascal who threatened +her-- + +"I do not know where Laud is. I wish I did; and I would let him know +that such a villain as you are ought to be hanged." + +The monster seized her, gagged her mouth with a tow-knot, and tried to +pull her away from the gate. She had seized hold of the long iron bar, +which was fastened to a low post, and fitted into a staple on the door. +She thought she heard voices outside the gates, speaking of her. Just as +the villain lifted her from the ground to fulfil his determined purpose, +she swung the iron against the door with such force, that the servants +outside were convinced something was wrong. They called, but received no +answer. They heard footsteps receding from the door, and called to +Smith, the cowkeeper, to know what was the matter. They did not receive +any immediate answer, but a light streamed under the door, and in +another moment they heard a scuffle, and Smith's voice calling for help. + +With their united force they burst the gates open, and ran down the +yard. The candle was burning on the ground, and Smith prostrate beside +it. In a moment after, they heard the bucket of the well descending with +rapidity, and then a sudden splash, as if a heavy body had reached the +bottom of it. + +Smith recovered quickly from his fall, and declared he saw a +sailor-looking man, carrying a female in his arms, and he firmly +believed that she was thrown down the well. He got his lantern, and +directed the men to take down the long church ladder, which was hung up +under the roof of the cowhouse, and bring it after him. The ladder was +put down the well, and Smith descended with his lantern, and called out +that there was a woman in the well. + +"Unhank the bucket: tie the rope round her body, and ease her up the +ladder; we can help you to get her out so." + +This was done: and when she was drawn up, the servants recognized the +features of Margaret Catchpole. + +Smith was quite sure the man he saw was in sailor's dress. It was a +providential circumstance that the very act of gagging had prevented the +water getting to her lungs, and so saved her from drowning. She breathed +hard, and harder still when the gag was removed, and was very black in +the face. She had received a severe blow on the head from her fall +against the bucket, the iron of which had caught her gown, and was the +cause of its descending with her to the water. She might have had a +severer blow against the sides of the well but for this circumstance. +She was quite insensible, and in this state was carried home, where she +was laid between warm blankets, and the doctor sent for. She was quickly +bled, and was soon restored to conscious animation. + +As she revived, she refused to communicate anything on the subject of +the disaster; and it was thought best, at that time, not to say much to +her about it. Conjectures were much raised, and the matter was much +talked over. The bag, which was opened by her master, was found to +contain one hundred and thirty guineas in gold and silver coin. Mr. +Cobbold took charge of it, and sealed it with his own seal. From all +that could be learned, it seemed that a sailor, whom all now conjectured +to be Laud, had thrown the money in at the door, and Margaret had +rushed out after him; that she had overtaken him; and that some violent +altercation had taken place between them, which had led to this most +extraordinary act. The whole affair seemed to be fraught with reckless +desperation. Could anything be more so than to throw such a sum of money +at a person's foot, and then to throw that person down a well? Why do +such a deed? Was he jealous? Had he heard of the many sailors who had +lately made Margaret's acquaintance? It might be, thought some, that he +had suddenly returned, and hearing of her conduct, had put the worst +construction upon it; and, in a desperate state, had been foolishly +generous, but too fatally jealous to hear any explanation. These ideas +passed through the minds of more than one of the family. + +Margaret slowly recovered from the fever which had settled in her frame, +and greatly reduced it. She kept her bed for several weeks; she kept her +tongue, too, as still and as free from communication with any one as she +possibly could under the circumstances. She did not say anything of her +own accord, even to her anxious and beloved mistress. + +It was soon circulated about that an atrocious attempt at murder had +been made in the parish of St. Margaret's, and the authorities of the +town took it up, and made inquiries into the matter. Understanding that +the young female was in too weak a state to have her deposition taken, +they did not visit her, but a reward was offered for the apprehension of +the man, and his person was described by the cowkeeper. + +There was but one person to whom Margaret opened her lips willingly upon +the subject, and that was her old friend and medical attendant, Mr. +Stebbing. He learned from her, that it was not Laud that had thrown her +down the well, but a fellow named Luff, one of his former evil +companions. She told the doctor her belief that Laud was the person who +had unintentionally been driven away by her on that unfortunate night; +"And I fear," she added, "that he will be induced by my seeming +harshness to return to his old courses. He will never forgive me--I know +he never will! Oh, that I could have had one word with him! If I could +but get well, I would try and find him. Oh, doctor, I am so anxious to +get well! Pray, help me!" + +"This is the plain reason, my girl, why you are so slow in recovering. I +knew you had something upon your mind that you kept back; and now that +you have told me thus much, let me speak to you in my own way. I tell +you honestly, Margaret, I never should think a man worth having who took +himself off in that kind of way. If, as you say, you refused to see a +sailor who did not give his name, the man ought to have been pleased, +rather than displeased, if he really loved you. If he was not a fool, he +would naturally think it would be the very first thing a girl with any +proper feeling would say. Take my word, Margaret, and I am somewhat more +experienced than you are, that if Laud is worth your having, he will +soon be here again. But don't you think of running after him. If he +comes back in a few days, well; but if not, I wish I might be able to +persuade you not to think of him at all. What could induce Luff to +attempt to murder you?" + +"He threatened, that unless I told him where Laud was, he would throw me +down the well. I imagine that Laud having escaped from the gang of +smugglers, this villain was sworn either to be revenged upon him for +some quarrel, or else he had promised Captain Bargood, his employer, to +bring him back again. I was determined not to tell him that Laud had +been to the house, and the fellow took this desperate revenge on me. +But, thank God, his purpose is frustrated! You know Laud, doctor, as +well as I do. I can conceive that my speech took him so completely by +surprise, that, after he had been saving up all his money for me, and +had been congratulating his mind upon my joy at his change, my words +must have cut him to the quick, and have driven him away in +desperation." + +"I wish I could think so, Margaret; but my idea is, that if he had been +the altered man you picture him, he would never have conducted himself +in that way. I tell you plainly, that I should be much more apt to think +he liked somebody else better than you; and that he threw down the money +merely because his conscience told him he had wronged you; and made him +feel that he ought to make you some recompense. If he does not come back +in a few days, I shall be confirmed in this opinion." + +The poor girl had never looked at the matter in this light. She felt a +strange sensation creeping over her mind, and, in the weak state she +then was in, she had a superstitious dread of her sister's last +words--"Margaret, you will never marry William Laud." The words seemed +to tingle in her ears, and to come, at this moment, with redoubled +force; she shook her head, sighed, and thanked the doctor for his good +advice. + +"I shall explain these matters to your mistress, Margaret," said Mr. +Stebbing. "It will remove all erroneous ideas, and may spare you some +pain and trouble. You must rouse yourself; the magistrates are daily +asking me about you; I have told them that you have too virulent a fever +upon you at present to make it safe for them to see you; and, depend +upon it, they will not be over-anxious to run any risk." + +"Pray, sir, could not you take down what I have said, as well as having +any other person to do it?" + +"If I do, Margaret, it must be read to you before two justices of the +peace, and you will have to swear to it." + +"Well, sir, so it must be then." + +And the good doctor left his patient, and gladly explained the exact +state of the case to her mistress. + +It was not very difficult for that lady to form her own conclusions now. +She was of Margaret's opinion, that Laud's first step would be to rejoin +the smugglers. She thought that he would become a more desperate +character than ever. Instability of purpose was always Laud's failing. +When Margaret got about again, her mistress, having considered all the +circumstances, thought it best that she should go home to her parent's +roof for a time. "As you are so much better," said she to her one day, +"and have been so much shaken lately, and your deposition has been taken +before the magistrates, I would strongly recommend a little change for +the benefit of your health. The doctor thinks it advisable. You can go +and stay a while with your uncle and aunt Leader, or you can go and see +your father and younger brother. You may go when you please. Remember +that there are one hundred and thirty guineas in your master's hands, to +be appropriated to your use. Your father or your uncle may wish to +consult us for your benefit. We shall be happy to see them for such +purpose at any time. If you wish to enter into any business, you shall +have our best advice and assistance. I think change will do you good. If +you do not settle in any way for yourself, and still prefer service, we +shall be glad to receive you amongst us again when you have recruited +your health and spirits." + +"I do not," Margaret replied, "want anything beyond my wages. I do not +consider that money my own, and shall never appropriate any of it to my +own use. It belongs to Will Laud. I feel very much obliged to both my +master and yourself for the interest you have always taken in me, and +for your offer of future assistance. I will consult with my friends. I +certainly do not feel so happy as I used to do." + +Her kind mistress did not choose to remind her of the great alteration +of her temper and conduct of late, because she did not wish to revive +old grievances. And, as she was about to leave for a time, with a +possibility of some chance of settlement without service, she let the +matter rest. + +Margaret, shortly after this conversation, took leave of as good a +mistress as a servant ever had. If she did not feel quite the warmth of +attachment to her that she had formerly done, the fault lay in herself, +not in that benevolent lady, who at that time and ever after, manifested +for her the sincerest kindness. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +CHANGE OF SCENE AND CHANGE OF PLACE + + +Soon after Margaret's recovery, and the taking of her deposition before +Colonel Neale, Mr. Gibson, and Mr. Seekamp, justices of the peace, she +took leave of the affectionate friends she had gained in the family at +St. Margaret's Green. She had permission to go and stay as long as she +felt necessary for the recruiting of her spirits, and accordingly she +went to Nacton. She found her aged father and her younger brother living +in the same cottage, and in better work and condition than when she had +left them. They gladly welcomed her, and she spent a peaceful quiet time +with them, though painful thoughts intruded themselves upon her mind. +Old and joyful, as well as joyless, associations crowded upon her; she +thought of her career of fortune and misfortune, with many a deep and +painful sigh. Oh! had religious instruction then fortified that mind as +it did years afterwards, what comfort might it not have gained even in +this moment of adversity--what pain might it not have turned aside! Her +father soon perceived that disappointment was gnawing at Margaret's +heart, the more keenly, as it found stronger food to feed upon, from the +past revival of warm hopes, now severely blighted. The old man sought +her confidence, and found that, by conversation with her, he lightened +the heaviness of her load. + +Margaret told her father the exact state of her mind, and did not +conceal anything from him. + +"I much fear," said the old man, "that he has returned to the coast +again, and perhaps to his former vicious companions. Not that I have +heard anything of him; but I know that the coastguard are as active as +they ever were in the discharge of their desperate duty. I cannot think +of any other method of ascertaining the fact, than by sending your +brother Edward down to the coast for a time, and let him learn what he +can. He is a very sharp young fellow, and I can tell you, Margaret, that +for activity of head, heart, and limb, not one of my boys ever exceeded +him." + +"I think the scheme might answer," replied Margaret: "at all events, it +is worth trying. I shall feel more satisfied, let the result be what it +may. I will give him part of my wages, so that he shall lose nothing by +the trip." + +In the evening the plan was proposed to the young man, who readily +entered into his sister's views upon the subject. He would ask his +master for a week or ten days, or a fortnight, if required. + +Margaret gave him strict charge to explain to Will Laud the circumstance +of her having so hastily uttered those words which had given him such +offence; that it was her mistress's command that she should see no more +sailors. "Be cautious," she added; "avoid that villain Luff; for in his +clutches you would be no more than a lamb beneath a tiger's paw. You +must visit all the different places along the coast from Felixstowe to +Aldeburgh. If any of the coastguard speak to you, tell them honestly who +you are; and if you see young Edward Barry, you may tell him all the +truth. He will help you, as he promised to befriend me, should I ever +require his aid. If any private opportunity of speaking to Laud should +occur, tell him his money is all safe, and shall be employed according +to his directions. I consider it his property, though directed to me. +Go, Edward. I shall spend many a restless hour until you return." + +Edward Catchpole was soon on his road to Felixstowe. His first attempt +was to find out the old ferryman, Laud's father, and ascertain if he +knew anything of him. But he learned that the old man had quietly +departed this life, soon after receiving the news of his son's +engagement with the French, in Lord Howe's victory of the 1st of June. +The only thing like a footmark of Laud was in the report given by some +of the neighbours, that a sailor had been there some weeks ago, making +inquiries about the old ferryman; who, ascertaining, however, that he +was dead, went away, and no one heard anything more of him. + +Edward next went on from Felixstowe to Bawdsey Ferry, and took up his +quarters at the Sun Inn. Here he seemed as one come to the seaside for +health; for he was to be seen wandering along the shore, and talking +whenever he could with the sailors. But he could gain no tidings, +directly or indirectly, of the person he sought. He shifted his position +from the Sun to the Old Beach House, at the mouth of the river Alde, now +known by the name of the Life-Boat public-house, then kept by Jacob +Merrells, a pilot. + +Great preparations were then making for building forts and Martello +towers along the coast, to oppose any invasion. Numbers of surveyors, +and workmen in the employ of Government, frequented the Beach House. The +conversation sometimes turned upon smuggling, and young Catchpole's +heart beat high at such moments, with the hope of some clue to Laud. +Nothing, however, could he elicit, except that, as so many Government +men were about at that time, the smugglers were not likely to be +carrying on a very brisk trade. Still it _was_ carried on, and Captain +Bargood was, it was said, as busy as ever. + +He next visited Boyton and Sudbourn, and Orford. He lodged at the +Mariner's Compass, then kept by an old weather-beaten sailor, who often +put him across from the quay on the banks of the Alde, to the North +Vere; and here he used to spend so many hours, that the coastguard, who +kept a watch upon his movements, suspected that his countryman's dress +was only a ruse to hide some sinister intention. They observed, however, +that he did not avoid them, but rather sought opportunity for their +acquaintance. A more dreary place than this North Vere is scarcely to be +found on all the coast of Great Britain. It is a mass of shingle nearly +twenty miles long, in some places nearly a mile broad, in others, only a +few hundred yards. This wall of pebbles separates the river Alde from +the ocean. The bank reaches from Hollesley Bay to Aldeburgh. The sea and +the river are very deep along the shelving banks on either side. + +Thousands upon thousands of sea-birds build, or rather lay their eggs, +upon this desolate bed of shingle. A few wild, straggling plants of +seakale, and very long, thin, sickly spires of grass, occasionally shoot +up through the stones; but there is no other vegetation, except here and +there in some few hollows in this desert of stones, where a little clay, +mixed with the sea-fowl dung, formed a green patch. These spots used to +be much frequented by smugglers, which, from their sunken situations, +used to hide both them and their goods from view. Nothing prominent can +be seen for miles round this coast, except the Orford lights, which +stand conspicuous enough about midway between Hollesley and Aldeburgh. + +The poor fellows who acted as preventive-service men in the coastguard +had no sinecure in this dreadful situation. The sun burnt them by day, +and the wind, from whatever quarter it blew, and especially in the +winter nights, was cutting and cold; and from the exposure between two +waters, the sea and the river, it roared like the discharge of +batteries. In some of the hollows these poor men used to construct huts +of such rude materials as came to hand; old pieces of wrecks, or +broken-up boats, which they covered with seaweed, collected after a +storm. These served to break the east winds which blew over the German +Ocean, in their terrible night-watches, which they were forced to keep +pretty constantly, as they were watched, though they were watchers. Many +were the desperate struggles upon this wild beach between these brave +men and the smugglers, in which hard fighting, and too often +death-blows, told the desperate nature of the service. + +"Well, my man, what brings you upon this coast?" said one of the +officers to Edward Catchpole, as he was sauntering lazily along the +seaside. + +"Oh," replied Edward, "I have got a holiday, and I wish to spend a day +or two by the seaside." + +"A day or two! Why you have been here six days, and you have been +staying at Hollesley, and Boyton, and Felixstowe. Come, come, young man, +you are up to some work which may get you into trouble. You had better +take my advice, and sheer off." + +"I have no unlawful calling; if I had, I might deserve your scrutiny. +You think, perhaps, that I am connected with smugglers, and am here for +the purpose of giving them information. I am, however, much more +desirous of receiving than of giving information. I never saw a +smuggler's boat in my life. You suspect me, I see; but what of?--tell +me." + +"I ought to be suspicious of the truth of what you tell me. But I never +saw you before, and your looks do not betray deceit." + +"Are you sure you never saw me before? Perhaps you may be mistaken. I +have seen you before to-day, and have spoken to you before this day. I +know you, if you do not know me." + +"I certainly do not know you, and assuredly have never spoken to you +till now. My memory is pretty accurate as to persons and faces, yet +neither the one nor the other are familiar to me in you." + +"Your face is familiar to me. I never saw you more than twice, and then +you spoke to me, and very kindly too." + +"You certainly puzzle me. What is your name, and whence do you come?" + +"You are Edward Barry, and I am Edward Catchpole. Do you remember the +lad that drove his sister down to the boat-house at Bawdsey?" + +"Yes, I remember you now, though you are greatly changed. But what +brings you here?" + +"That which keeps you here night and day! I am upon the look-out for the +smugglers." + +"You may look a long time if you are looking for Will Laud. Do you not +know that he is in the British navy?" + +"I knew that he was so, but I do not know that he is. My sister told me +if I met you to make you acquainted with her trials, and to ask your +assistance." + +Here the young man told him the events which had taken place, and her +fears that Laud had returned to his old career. + +"I do not think he has. His old companions are as active as ever; but I +heard that he had split with them, and that, when he was taken by the +pressgang, he was quarrelling with Luff, who, as I understood, escaped, +and swore to finish his work upon Laud whenever he could catch him. +There is not a man among us but would run any risk to deliver that +fellow up to justice. We have had orders from Government to secure him +if we can, and the reward is extended to us. He is a daring wretch, and +knowing, as he must do, our determination to take him, it is my +conviction that he will never be taken alive. But, if you wish to see a +bit of sharp work, we have got information that he is now off this +coast, preparing to land a cargo on the Vere. If you have a mind to lend +a hand to take him, you can be of great service to us, without running +much danger in work that you are not accustomed to." + +"That I will do gladly." + +"Well, now listen. You cannot walk five hundred yards along the brow of +the beach without meeting one of my men. They are all upon the shore in +readiness, and have had their eyes upon you, though you have not seen +them. Look along the line of the coast against the upper ridge of +shingle at the spring-tide mark,--you see nothing. If you walk along +that line five hundred yards from where you stand, you will see a head +pop up from the shingle and salute you. They are placed there, and have +buried themselves in the shingle on purpose to watch your motions. You +are suspected to be the person appointed to hoist a white flag, +opposite Havergate Island, as a signal that the boat may come ashore. I +implicitly believe what you have told me of yourself, and, if you will +assist me, I will in return render you all the assistance I can in +search of your object." + +"I will do anything you appoint me to do within my power." + +"I ask nothing of you, but what you can easily perform. Remember the +watchword which I now give you. It is 'King George for ever,' an +expression you must use if any of my men salute you. What I want you to +do is, to pass along the whole line in the direction of the spring-tide +mark, which is the highest point that the tide reaches. Every five +hundred yards you will find yourself spoken to by one of my men, who +will say, 'Who goes there?' Do you reply, 'King George for ever!' They +will say 'Hurrah! pass on.' You will find fourteen men, which will tell +you that four miles of this coast is strictly guarded to-night. Pass +along the whole line; but note when you come to the seventh man, and lay +this pole, and white flag which is bound to it, about twenty yards on +this side of him. You will observe that, at that point, a tall poplar +tree in Sudbourn Grove, on the horizon, will be in a direct line with +you and the Shepherd's Cottage on Havergate Island. Leave the flag-pole +there until you return from going the whole line. Take this keg over +your shoulder, and replenish every man's can as you pass along, for they +will have sharp work to-night, and it is cold work lying in suspense. As +you come back from the line, unfurl the flag, and fix the staff strongly +in the ground. The wind blows off-shore, and will soon carry it +streaming outward. It will then be your duty to take up your position at +a respectful distance from the spot, and see that no one from the land +removes the flag. I strongly suspect that the old shepherd, who lives in +the Red Cottage on Havergate Island, is the man who will come to remove +it if he can. If you can secure him without our aid, so much the +better; but if not, just put your lips to this whistle which I give you, +and assistance will be close at hand. At all events, the old fellow must +be secured, and carried back to his cottage, and be bound to his bed. +And you must remain with him until night draws on. Then put the old +man's light, an oil lamp, which you will find standing under the bed, +into the little window looking towards the sea, which is at the +gable-end to the east. + +"Then you must come over again with his boat, and mind and shove her the +full length of her moorings into the water before you fix her anchor on +the shore, or the falling tide will leave her high and dry. Then return +to the place, where you can bury yourself in the shingle. If I mistake +not, as soon as the moon is high, you will see a boat come ashore with a +cargo. There is a dell not far off the flag, to which they will probably +carry all their tubs. You must not be seen by them. You will easily see +how my men manage to hide themselves. Now be very particular in noting +what I tell you, or the lives of many may be forfeited. After the men +have landed their goods, two of them will go across to the river, to see +if the shepherd's boat is moored ready for them. When they come back, +you will hear them say 'Up! all's right!' They will then each take up +his burden, and proceed with it to the river's side. I expect there will +be ten or twelve of them. As soon as they are all fairly out of the +dell, do you give a good loud long whistle. By this time, my men, who +will have seen the boat coming ashore, will be getting on their hands +and knees close up to you. The smugglers will throw down their loads, +and hasten to their boat; we shall be ready to receive them. But, +whatever you do, lie still, and you will be out of danger; and if you +have a mind to see what a battle is, you will have a good view of it. I +do not ask you to risk your life, you will probably see some of us +killed, and should I be among the number, just remember, that in the +bottom of my cartridge-box there is a letter to my sister, which I will +get you to deliver. Do you think you fully understand me? and are you +now willing to help us? It is singular that I should find in you the +very instrument we wanted. I was about to have you secured, and to +perform the part myself; but ten to one if the old shepherd saw me, but +he would smell powder, and keep at home; but, seeing you a country +youth, he will not mind you, but will come to the scratch. You see how +much depends upon your courage." + +Young Edward Catchpole had long made up his mind, notwithstanding all +the danger, to run any risk sooner than give up the enterprise; like his +sister he possessed great personal courage, and was quick, intelligent, +and active. He also looked upon the cause as a good one; it was for his +king and country, and for a sister whom he loved. He had given up the +idea of meeting with Laud, and thought only of securing the vile +assassin whose crimes had reached such an enormous pitch. He entered +upon his commission immediately, pursued his career along the high-water +mark of the beach, and, true enough, about every five hundred yards, a +head popped up from the shingle, with, "Who goes there?" "King George +for ever!" was the answer; and "That's right, my hearty, we'll drink his +health if you please," was the hint for the young man to replenish the +brave sailor's can. He noted the seventh man; there he left the flag and +staff, and proceeded on the whole length of the line. As he returned he +placed the pole firmly into the deep shingle, and unfurled the white +sheet, which soon formed a most conspicuous streamer in the air. He then +quietly secreted himself in the manner he had been shown by one of the +men, by working his body into the shingle, and letting the larger stones +fall over him until he was completely covered, save his head. It was not +long before a sail, which had been seen in the distance, now kept +standing off and on in the offing. But now came his own work. + +About an hour after the flag had been unfurled, Edward plainly heard the +bleating of sheep, and saw a shepherd driving a score of sheep +leisurely along towards the flag, apparently watching his sheep cropping +the scant herbage of the North Vere. As he came whistling on, and +approached the staff, looking cautiously around him, Edward thought it +was time to commence proceedings, especially as the old man laid hold of +the flagstaff to unship it. He jumped up, and called to the shepherd,-- + +"I say, old boy, let that bell wether of mine alone, will you?" + +The shepherd started, and left the staff, and approached the young man. + +"What do you put that flag there for, young man?" + +"Because such are my orders." + +"But suppose I wish to have that flag for a sheet for my bed to-night, +who shall prevent it?" + +"I will." + +"Why, I could lick half a dozen such fellows as you, with one arm." + +"Maybe so--but come, now, let's have a fair trial of strength. Lay down +your crook between us, and see if you or I can pull the other over it. +If you succeed, then take the flag. If I, then you must take yourself +off how you can." + +"Done," said the shepherd--"it shall be a bargain;" and he threw his +crook down on the ground. "Now for it, young man." + +Accordingly, they approached each other. Young Edward saw that he had a +formidable antagonist to contend with, a brawny, sinewy frame, full of +compact strength, and more than an equal match for his youth; but he +resolved not to give the whistle, if he could overcome the man any how +by himself. + +"Stop," said Edward; "you have laid the crook so as to give yourself the +upper hand: that is not fair. Lay it down from sea to river, so that we +both have the same chance in the slant. I'll show you what I mean." + +And the young man showed him in a moment what he meant; for, taking up +the crook, and stooping down to place it as he had said, with a +shepherd's dexterity (for the reader will remember that the youth was +also a shepherd) he swung it round the ankle of the old man, and at the +same instant gave it such a jerk, as pitched him backwards upon his +head, which came with such violence upon the stones, that he was +completely stunned. Edward was for a moment fearful that he was dead; +but conjecturing, very wisely, that he might revive, he took out of his +wallet the old man's sheep-cords (strong thongs which shepherds use when +they dress their sheep, or such as sheep-shearers use when they clip +them), and, without more ado, he tied his hands and legs together behind +him, so that he was completely pinioned. + +It was well that young Catchpole had taken this advantage and +precaution; for, upon searching the inner pocket of the wallet, he found +a brace of pistols, primed and loaded, which would have made the contest +very uneven. As the old man shortly began to revive, he called out most +lustily for help. + +"Hold your tongue," said Edward, "or I will shoot you dead with your own +pistols! Lie still, and no one will hurt you. What should an honest man, +in your calling, do with such weapons as these?" + +The old fellow was soon convinced that he had to deal with as good a +hand as his own; and one as expert at catching a ram, too. His arms and +legs were tied in such a scientific manner, as convinced him that the +young man was a shepherd. He thought it best, therefore, to bear his +present condition silently. + +"Come along, old boy," said the youth, as he stuck the shepherd's crook +under the cords, and began dragging him along towards his boat; "I'll +ease you down to the river." + +"Take care you are not eased down yourself," said the old man. "I have +friends, who will give you your deserts before long, and ease me of +these clutches." + +"I'll tell you what you deserve, old man; and what, if the coastguard +suffer to-night, you will receive. You deserve to be thrown into the +river as you are; and if I have many words with you, and you refuse to +give me a plain direction and answer to whatever question I put to you, +you may depend upon it I will do it myself; and that will soon settle +all disputes between us. You have had in your wallet, pistols; your +crook would make a flagstaff; and I find, upon dragging you along, that, +as your jacket buttons give way, you have half a sheet round your body. +Tell me, when did you intend to give the smugglers the signal? It will +do you no good to tell me a lie. You have seen enough to be convinced I +understand what you are. You had better tell me the truth at once, or a +cold salt-water bath will compel you to do so." + +"Not to-night!--not to-night!" + +"Why not to-night?" + +"Because the coastguard are upon the watch." + +As they proceeded on their way, Edward asked the old man, "Do you expect +Captains Laud or Luff to-night? You may as well tell me; for you must be +pretty well convinced, by this time, that I know what is going on." + +"Well--I expect Captain Luff. Laud is dead." + +The young man fairly dropped the crook, as he repeated Maud's +words--"Laud is dead! Laud is dead!--How do you know that?" + +"If you will unbind me, I will tell you all about it." + +"Perhaps I may, when you tell me how and where he died, and show me what +proof you have of his death." + +"Will you unbind me then?" + +"Yes; when I think you have been bound long enough." + +"These thongs cut me sore." + +"How can that be? they are too broad to cut; and if you do not attempt +to draw your hands asunder, you know, as well as I do, that the knot is +tied so that they cannot hurt you. I see, by your keeping your hands +close together, that they do not hurt you." + +They had now arrived at the river's side, where a large ferry-boat, such +as is used to carry stock over from the mainland to the island, was +moored against the shore. Edward lifted the old man into the +broad-bottomed craft, and laying him down upon the boards, pulled up +the anchor, and shoved off towards the island. The old man soon +perceived that Edward was no sailor, by the manner in which he managed, +or rather mismanaged the boat; and truly this was the hardest work the +young man had yet to perform. He had been so taken up with the thought +of doing everything he was commissioned to do, and in his pride so +determined to do it all himself, without help, that he had overlooked +his greatest difficulty, and forgot that he should want assistance to +row the boat. He still did not use his whistle; but, with very great +exertion, and very awkward management, contrived to bring the boat to +the island, and to shove her along the side of the marsh wall, to a +creek, close by the shepherd's house. He then lifted the old man out of +the boat, and dragged him up the mud wall, and laid him down at his +cottage door. The door was locked; and, in the scuffle, the key of it +had fallen out of the old man's pocket; and Edward was obliged to make +his way in at a low window behind the house; when, having forced back +the bolt, he pulled the old man in, and lifted him on to a bed, which +was in the room adjoining, and took a seat by his side. + +"I'm both hungry and thirsty after all my exertions; have you any +refreshment of any kind in this comfortable dwelling?" + +"You will find plenty in the closet by the fireplace. I wish I could eat +and drink with you." + +"So you may, and I will feed you as if you were my cosset lamb." + +He soon found that the shepherd's cottage contained sufficient to +recruit the spirits of any man whose stomach was not too proud for +wholesome food. There was a slice of cold boiled bacon, and bread and +cheese in plenty. There was brandy, too, but very bad water; and it +required something stronger than tea to take off the brackish taste; +brandy alone could make it palatable for man. The cattle sometimes +suffered by drinking it. The young shepherd fed the old one, whose +muscular limbs were now as powerless as an infant's; not from second +childhood, but from the dexterity with which they were bound together. +There was something of kindness in the young man's manner, though he was +justified, in self-defence, to take the advantage he had done. + +"Now," said he, "tell me how you know Captain Laud is dead?" + +"Captain Luff told me so." + +"And is that all you know of it? Have you no other proof?" + +"Yes; I have the captain's watch, which Luff gave to me, and the case of +it has his true-love's name engraved in the inside. The watch is in the +old plum-tree box, in the cupboard." + +The young man eagerly examined the spot. He found the box, and in it the +watch, with both names engraved on the inside of the case, shining as +bright, and the engraving as sharp, as if it had been executed only that +very day. "William Laud and Margaret Catchpole," round the interior +circumference, and "June 1st, 1794," with a wreath of victory +surrounding it, in the centre. + +"All this is correct, as you say; but how did he die?" + +"Well, I will tell you all I know. Captain Luff (if you do not know him, +I do) is a most desperate fellow; a price is set upon his head, dead or +alive, so that it be but taken. Well, he murdered the poor girl whose +name is written in the watch; and I firmly believe that he murdered +Captain Laud too! Towards the close of the last year I was upon Sudbourn +Heath, keeping my sheep, and who should I meet but Captain Luff, who +accosted me with this question:-- + +"'Have you seen my young commander, Captain Laud, pass this way?' + +"Well, it was a curious question, and quite natural too; for about six +o'clock that very morning, as I was taking my sheep out of the fold, who +should pass by me but the gallant young fellow whom he inquired after? +Singularly enough he asked after Luff, and whether I knew if he was upon +the coast. I told him that I had not had any signals lately; but that +some of the crew were ashore, and were staying at the Mariner's Compass, +at Orford. Well, I told Luff the same as I now tell you; and he no +sooner received the intelligence, than with all the eagerness of a +blood-hound when he touches upon the scent of his victim, he was off for +Orford in a moment. Well, I thought this was all for old acquaintance' +sake, or for business; so I rather rejoiced in the adventure. That very +night I had made an appointment to take some game; and as I went up the +Gap Lane, leading to the Heath, I heard angry words, and soon found the +two captains at variance. I had no wish, as you may suppose, to +interfere with their strife, so I quietly laid myself up in the ferns. +It was a dreadful sound to hear the thunder of those two men's voices. +How they cursed each other! At length I heard the report of two pistols, +and one of the balls passed within a yard of my head, but as for blows, +I could not count them. They fought each other like two bull-dogs, I +should say for near an hour, till I heard the snap and jingle of a +broken sword, and then one of them fled. I found the broken part of the +blade next morning close to the spot. It was red with blood; and the +marks of feet in the sand were as numerous as if twenty men had been +contending. I found drops of blood sunk into the sand all the way down +the lane, until you come to the marshes: here I lost the track. I have +seen no more of Laud since. But what makes me think that he was killed +by Luff on that night is the after-behaviour of the captain. About two +months after this occurrence I received a signal from the North Vere; +and who should it be but Luff. Well, he came home to my cottage, and as +we sat together I said, by way of a sounder, 'Where's Captain Laud?' + +"'What makes you ask that question?' says he, hastily and fiercely. +'Have you any particular reason for asking me after him? Speak out at +once,' says he,--'speak out; have you heard anything about him?' + +"The terrific glare of the fiend's eye fell upon me so cruelly that I +dared not tell him I had witnessed the fight, so I said, 'I have not +seen the captain for so long a time, that I did not know where he was.' + +"'Ho! ho! that's it, is it?' says he. 'Have you seen him since the +morning you fed your sheep on Sudbourn Heath?' + +"'No,' says I; 'he was then anxious to see you. Did you find him?' + +"'Yes, I did; and I have reason to think he was lost at sea that very +night; for he agreed to come on board, and we have seen nothing more of +him, nor two of our crew, since that very time. Two of my men were in +the river boat, but I have seen nothing of them since. They were to have +joined the crew off the head of the North Vere, but we never saw them +again.' + +"'That's very odd,' says I; 'but how did you join the crew?' + +"'I got a cast down the river in Master Mannell's boat, the old +fisherman of Boyton.' + +"Then, after a pause, + +"'Here, Jim,' says he, 'I'll make you a present of poor Will's watch. I +do not like to wear it; it grieves me when I look at it. We used to be +such friends.' + +"Now I thought this very strange, and it confirmed me in the opinion +that his conscience would not let him rest. I took the watch, and you +have now got it in your hand." + +"What shall I give you for this watch?" said Edward. + +"What you like; for ever since I have had it, it has appeared to me as +if I was an accomplice in Captain Laud's murder." + +"I will give you half a guinea." + +"Well, it is yours." + +"I will put the money into the box in the cupboard. Time now wears away. +What are all these pieces of wood for?" + +"They are tholes for the boat, when the smugglers use it." + +"With your permission I will take them with me. Have you any oars for +them also?" + +"No! the smugglers bring their own oars." + +"Well, I must be moving; and now since you have told me the truth, and I +have every reason to thank you, I will candidly tell you who I am: I am +Margaret Catchpole's brother." + +"You are a shepherd, then?" + +"I am a shepherd." + +"I was sure of it by the manner in which you used these thongs. May I +ask, is your sister dead?" + +"She is not dead. How many men do you expect from the lugger when they +land?" + +"Ten, with the captain." + +"Well, lie you still now. I must, for the sake of fulfilling the orders +of my commander, fasten your cords to the bedstead, or I may be blamed. +So: that will do. Now, should the captain himself come to see you, he +will be convinced that the foul play was not your part; and if he does +not come to-night, I will. But time presses, and I must do my duty. +Where is your lamp?" + +"I see by your question," said the old man, "that all is discovered. You +want the lamp to put in the window upstairs; you will find it under the +bed." + +There it was, and was soon lighted and put in its proper place: a joyful +signal of success to the brave and patient coastguard, and a fatal lure +to the desperadoes on board the smuggler. + +"Now then, old friend, good-bye," said Edward. "If success attend our +scheme you and I may be better acquainted; you may be glad that you have +told me all the truth. Farewell." + +The youth was soon on board the ferry-boat; and with much labour brought +her to the same spot where he had before unmoored her. The tide had +fallen some feet, and was near its last ebb, so that he very wisely drew +her up as high as he could on to the shore, concluding that if he +anchored her in the water when the tide flowed again, which it would +soon do, it would cover the anchor on the shore. He drew her up far +enough just to place her cable's end at high-water mark; and having put +the tholes in their proper places, he then walked across to the white +flag. Just before he passed the dell, who should lift up his head but +young Barry! + +"I began to think our plan had not succeeded. Is all right?" + +"All is as you could wish it, and more; but I will tell you all another +time." + +"We can see the lugger," said young Barry, "standing off and on: our +white flag is successful. You must go to the right, so as to lay +yourself in such a position as to command a view of this little dell and +the river. Bring yourself to anchor full a hundred yards from this hole, +for I suspect the fight will be here; keep your head below the ocean +mark when you give the signal, or a few bullets may whistle about your +ears." + +Only those who have had anything to do with the preventive service can +tell the dangers and difficulties which the poor fellows who defend our +trade have to encounter; how much toil and anxiety, and how seldom +sufficient honour or reward do such men gain in discharging their +onerous duty. It is a life of feverish vexation. Fancy fourteen men +collected and stationed along four miles of coast the whole day, buried +in the pebbles, and waiting on a cold night for the approach of the +smuggler. They all saw the vessel reconnoitring and sailing about the +offing: the least want of circumspection on their part would thwart the +scheme which up to this moment promised success. Even the men accustomed +to this kind of work shook with the anxiety of suspense; but what must +have been the sensations of the young landsman who had to give the +signal for the onset, in which more than one might fall? To say that he +did not suffer severely, enough almost to make him wish himself at home, +would not be true; the thought, however, that he might be instrumental +in bringing the villain Luff to justice for all his crimes, and the +singular manner in which he had discovered his treachery to Laud, made +the young man some amends for the truly painful task he had undertaken. + +Night now began to draw on, and the sea-birds left off their screaming; +the tern and the dottrell hastened to their resting-places; and the last +of all the feathered sea-shore tribe, the one which goes to roost the +latest, the grey curlew, bent his rapid wing toward Havergate Island, +and gave a mournful note as he flapped over the head of the young +watchman. As the moon arose the wind began to blow a little fresh, and +the ocean to roar upon the beach. The smugglers rejoiced at this, as it +would enable them to land their cargo with less chance of being heard. +The flag still streamed and flapped in the wind; the light shone like a +star in the shepherd's cot; and the time drew near for the contest. + +Not a sound could be now heard save that of the wind. The vessel, +however, might be seen in the moonlight, approaching the shore; and now +a heavy eight-oared boat was seen to leave her: she was heavily laden, +even to the gunwale. The boat lurched through the breakers like a log. +On she came, with her helmsman, John Luff, who laid her broadside on to +the shore. Now for an anxious moment. Not a word was spoken. The wind +preventing any sound along the shore, nothing could be heard even of the +grounding of the boat's keel upon the beach. Dark figures of men were +seen getting out of the boat. They were expert sailors, up to their +work; as the sea heaved the boat up, they dragged her higher on the +shore, until they could more conveniently unload her. This was done as +expeditiously as possible; each man carried a sack heavily laden. They +went to the very spot that Barry had named, deposited their load, and +again returned to their boat. Twice they performed this work; and now +the two last men, carrying the eight oars, brought up the rear. The +eight quietly seated themselves on the sacks, whilst the other two went +forward with the oars; they returned, and, as young Edward concluded, +must have said, "All's right." + +By this time the coastguard were drawing their lines closer to the spot, +each man taking up his brother, or calling on him as he passed him, +until the whole fourteen were within the space of ten yards from the +flag; breathless, on their knees did they await the shrill whistle +which, like the trumpet's sound, was to give the word for the charge. + +Young Catchpole saw the smugglers emerge from the dell, with each man +his sack upon his shoulder; for an instant he thought he ought to wait +until they came the second time, but as his orders did not say so, and +he judged that if they once stowed away half their cargo they would make +quickly for the river, he deemed it best to give the signal at once; so +drawing in his breath, he gave the whistle such a long, shrill blast, +that had the wind lain that way it might have been heard to Orford. He +did not raise himself up, and it was well he did not, for over his head +whizzed a ball, and flash--flash--flash went the pistols. As was +predicted the men dropped their cargoes, and ran for the pit, but here +stood the coastguard ready to receive them, young Barry having brought +his men down below the horizon of the sea, that they might not be +exposed to the sight of the smugglers, whilst the river lying lower, and +they ascending from it, became a visible mark against the moonlit water +for their fire. + +Dreadful was the contest that ensued. The smugglers formed a close line: +the coastguard line was more measured, and with some spaces between each +two men, so that their danger was the less. The firing, as they +approached each other, was awful; two men of the smugglers fell. They +closed nearer, and swords clashed and sparkled in the moonlight; and the +uproar at length became more audible than the noise of the wind and +waves. At last there was one sudden, tremendous yell from the boat's +crew, and then the cry for quarter; some fell, others fled, not to the +boat but along the coast. It was the object of the coastguard not to +pursue them so far as to separate from each other; and as three fled one +way, and two another, they merely sent flying shots after them, and +cleared a passage to the boat. The shout announced the leader of the +smugglers to be shot, and two more were lying by his side, and two +surrendered, and were disarmed and guarded, whilst but one of the +coastguard had fallen. + +As the enemy was dispersed young Barry mustered his men, and missed his +comrade. They found him near the two smugglers who had first fallen. +Close to them lay the captain, his arm nearly cut in two, shot in the +side, and severely wounded on the head. Young Edward, who had seen the +fight, now came forward to render further assistance. The two smugglers +were dead; but the preventive-service man and the captain of the crew +were not dead, though both were severely wounded. + +The two wounded men were taken to the shepherd's cottage. Four men, with +Barry and young Edward, rowed across to the island, whilst ten men were +left to guard the prisoners and the cargo, and to secure the smugglers' +boat. The whole proved to be a most valuable prize. + +The captain, as the reader may suppose, proved to be no other than the +hated John Luff. The old shepherd was released by young Catchpole, and +from cramp and pain from his long doubled-up position he could scarcely +stand. The two wounded men were placed upon his bed, presenting such a +contrast of feature, expression, and character, as the ablest artist in +the world could not have justly delineated. Luff, with his dark brow, +haggard eye, and hairy face, looking like a dying hyena, looked up and +saw before him, Barry, Catchpole, and the shepherd; and with the scowl +of revenge (a strong passion to exhibit in such agony), he muttered a +dreadful curse upon them all. The poor coastguard man, with his pale but +placid countenance, though suffering severely from his wounds, extended +his hands to his commander, and implored him to let him be carried to +another bed, to let him lie on the floor in the other room, or anywhere +but head to head beside the demon who lay shuddering and cursing by his +side. + +The bed of the shepherd's daughter, who was at that time staying at +Orford, was brought down and laid in the keeping-room beside the +fireplace, and the poor fellow was laid upon it. Luff's death-hour was +evidently at hand. It was a fearful thing to see him in his horrible +tortures, and to hear him, in his groans and moans, proclaiming himself +the murderer of Will Laud. Whenever he opened his eyes he saw nothing +but the evidences of guilt before him, as he raved in wild frenzy,-- + +"There! there! there! I see him! He is not dead!--no! no! no! There's +Laud and Margaret Catchpole! Look! they laugh at me!" + +At last, with one wild scream, his spirit, like an affrighted bird, fled +away. Never did those who stood near him witness such a death. A cold +shudder crept over their flesh, and they owned one to another that they +should never forget that awful sight. + +When it became known that the notorious smuggler, John Luff, was killed, +numbers came to see him; and few that saw his body but owned that he was +a fearful fellow when living. Government paid the reward over into the +hands of the coastguard, who all subscribed liberally towards the +comfort of their wounded messmate. Edward Catchpole was included among +those who shared the reward, and this enabled him to pay all his +expenses without any recurrence to his sister's purse. + +When young Catchpole returned to Nacton with the eventful tidings of his +journey, and related all the particulars to Margaret, stating his full +belief of Laud's death, she pondered for a while over his statement, and +then expressed her dissent from her brother's conclusions. + +"I see no certain proof of Laud's death," said she. "The old shepherd +and the wretch Luff, may both have supposed him dead; but there is a +mystery not yet cleared up which fills me with strange hopes--I mean the +sudden disappearance of the two sailors with the boat that very night. +Luff made no mention of them in his dying moments. I really think these +two men are somehow connected with the safety of Laud; and I yet have +hope." + +She rejoiced, however, that Laud was not found in company with his +former band, and especially with that bad man Luff; and drew +conclusions, in her own mind, favourable to his character and conduct. +She was very grateful to her brother; and not long afterwards she +proposed to return to her place. She had certainly been very remiss in +not communicating with her mistress once since she left her. So taken up +was she with her thoughts of Laud, that she forgot her situation; and, +until her brother's return, had never spoken of going back to Ipswich. +Her mistress not hearing of or from her, sent over to Brandiston, and +there learned that she had never been to see her uncle and aunt, nor had +they heard anything of her. A man was sent to Nacton, and, +unfortunately, the cottage was locked up, as Margaret had been that day +to spend a few hours with her first mistress, at the Priory Farm. These +strange circumstances made her mistress at Ipswich conclude that she was +gone in search of Laud; and consequently she engaged another servant. +When Margaret returned to St. Margaret's Green she found her place +filled up; and her mistress reproached her for her neglect in not having +had some communication with her. Margaret felt hurt and disappointed. +She stayed a short time at one or two places, but was extremely +unsettled and dissatisfied. She was in the habit of frequently visiting +St. Margaret's Green, and of being asked to go and see the children. +About eight months after a vacancy unexpectedly occurred in Mrs. +Cobbold's establishment, and Margaret entered a second time into the +service of her former mistress, in the capacity of cook; but her stay +this time was short. She was now as unlike as possible to the Margaret +of former days. She was not happy. Her temper had been soured by +disappointment, and her spirit made restless by rumours of Laud being +alive. She became impatient towards her fellow-servants, careless in her +dress and manner, and negligent in her work--a complete contrast to her +former self, who had been a pattern of order, decency, and regularity. +At the end of one year, it became her mistress's painful duty to give +her a final warning. It was a real heartfelt sorrow to that benevolent +lady to be compelled, for the sake of example to her other servants, to +discharge Margaret. But she could not do otherwise. + +Here was a painful duty discharged conscientiously. Let not the reader +think that it made no impression. It fell with full force upon +Margaret's mind. Margaret wept most bitterly when she found that she +must now break off all connexion with that family in which she had once +been so happy. She merely asked permission to remain till the end of the +week, and that in such a subdued tone and supplicating manner, as +touched her mistress's heart. It is needless to say that her request was +granted. + +The morning of departure arrived, and not a servant, no, nor a child in +that house, could say "Good-bye" without tears. Her mistress, when +handing over to her the money directed to her by Laud, made Margaret sit +down, and conversed with her upon her future prospects. She also gave +her some good books for a remembrance, expressed a hope that she would +read them, and told her she should forget all but her good deeds, and be +ever ready to serve her. + +Then, with tears rolling down her cheeks, Margaret tottered to the cart +which had been provided to take her to Brandiston, and left that house +never to enter it again, and never to look upon it without terror. + +The author cannot help introducing at the close of this chapter an +authenticated document, which has been sent to him from Reading, in +Berkshire. It is the testimony of a man still living, who has never +forgotten Margaret Catchpole: and the reader will say he had good reason +to remember her. This man now lives in the service of Mr. John Snare, +No. 16 Minster Street, Reading; and, since the publication of the former +edition of this work, has made known to his master a providential escape +which he had in his infancy, through the intrepidity of this +extraordinary woman. Poor Margaret! it is with inexpressible pleasure +that the author transcribes this tribute to her memory; for it proves to +him, that whatever was the cause of her unsettled state of mind, her +noble spirit was still as prompt to hear the cry of the helpless as in +her days of confidence and comfort with her beloved mistress. The author +is indebted to the Rev. John Connop, Bradfield Hall, Reading, for the +original document, which he now gives to the public; and which he is +happy to add, is fully confirmed by persons now living at Ipswich. + + _The Declaration of William White, of Reading, in Berkshire._ + + "My parents lived on St. Margaret's Green, St. Margaret's parish, + Ipswich, about five doors from the house of John Cobbold, Esq. + Margaret Catchpole was then living in Mr. Cobbold's service as + cook. About the middle of the spring of 1797, I, being then a child + about six years of age, was playing on the Green with many of the + neighbours' children; and in the midst of our sport, a mad bull + rushed most furiously towards us, directing his attack upon our + little group to the precise spot where I stood. Paralysed by fear + and surprise, I saw no hope of safety in flight, and must have + fallen a victim to the assault of the infuriated beast, had not my + companions set up a cry of alarm. At this critical moment, Margaret + Catchpole rushed out of Mr. Cobbold's house, to ascertain the cause + of the disturbance, and had the courage to fly in the face of the + bull, just as he was in the act of tossing me. Indeed I was + slightly gored by him, and must inevitably have been severely + injured, had not this courageous woman snatched me up, and carried + me into Mr. Cobbold's kitchen, taking every care of me until my + parents arrived. + + "I was not seriously hurt, but I have been told that my bruises and + scars did not disappear for several weeks; and during this time I + was visited by Margaret Catchpole and Mrs. Cobbold, who both took + great notice of me, and evinced great anxiety for my recovery. + + "I remember that this courageous act of Margaret Catchpole's was + much talked of at the time, and the Rev. Mr. Fonnereau, the rector + of St. Margaret's, took much interest in the affair; so much, + indeed, did he think of it, that on my marriage in 1817, he, being + still the rector, and performing the ceremony, reminded me of the + extraordinary circumstance which had occurred in my childhood, and + of my providential escape from an early grave. + + "My uncle, Samuel Bayley (my mother's brother), was cooper and + brewer to J. Cobbold, Esq., being in his employment at the Cliff + Brewery, near Ipswich, at the time the above occurred. + + "William White. + + "Reading, February 18th, 1847." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +GUILT AND CRIME + + +The reader will be anxious to know what really was the fate of Will +Laud, and will not be surprised to learn that Margaret's idea was quite +in accordance with the fact. When Luff quitted the old shepherd upon +Sudbourn Heath, in search of Laud, he was prepared to find him at the +Compasses at Orford, and there he did find him, and he pretended to be +glad to see him, and to be very friendly with him. All former +animosities seemed to be extinct; and Luff quickly wormed out of him +the secrets of his heart. He asked after Margaret with as much apparent +indifference as if he had heard nothing of her. + +"I have left her for ever," said Laud. "I will have nothing more to do +with her. Some more powerful enemy than I have ever contended with has +at last prevailed over me, and pulled down the proud flag I had hoisted +in her love. I heard her say, almost to my face, that she would never +see another sailor, though she must have been expecting me home, for I +sent her word by an old messmate that I was coming; and what could she +mean, but to let me know flatly that she preferred some lubberly +landsman (perhaps some powdered footman) to one of Lord Howe's Britons? +I could stand it no longer, so I just threw all my prize-money +overboard; and here I am, Jack, ready to join your crew again. Have you +forgotten our last rub? Come, give us your hand, Jack." + +Luff put out his blood-stained palm, and pretended all the peace of a +restored friendship. Grog was ordered; and the two easily struck a +bargain to go on board again in the service of Captain Bargood. But Luff +was too determined a villain to forgo that opportunity, which now +offered itself, of fulfilling the deadly purpose he had often sworn to +his crew that he would accomplish, "to bring Laud a captive, dead or +alive, on board the brig." The treacherous fellow had left no stone +unturned to bring about this plan. It was he who pursued such a system +of fraud with regard to Margaret as led to her disgrace. He hired +sailors to deceive her with false tales, and to learn what they could of +Laud, that he might the more easily wreak his vengeance upon his victim. +And now at last here was the object of his hatred, trusting to him as he +would have done to the most tried friend. He was as loud and artful in +his ridicule of Margaret as a determined monster of envy could be. He +had heard, he said, many tales of her; and that she was at last going to +marry one of the brewhouse men. Such were the inventions of this +hollow-hearted villain, to inflame the irritable mind of Laud. There +were two of the crew present, to whom Luff had given the wink, and made +them to understand he had trapped his man. + +"Let us take a bit of a cruise, and have a look at the port," said Luff +to his pretended friend; and then turning to the others, he said, "We +shall be in again presently, and go on board to-night." + +"Aye, aye, master," replied one of the men, "all right!--I say, Sam," +observed he, when the two captains had left the room, "what a shocking +fellow our captain is! I'll wager now that he either puts a bullet +through Laud's head, or a dagger in his heart, or shoves him overboard +at night!" + +"Aye, Jim, I don't mind a brush with the coastguard, but I don't like +such cold-blooded work as this any more than you do. Don't let us wait +for the captain; but, as soon as we have finished our grog, let's be off +for the boat." + +"With all my heart, Sam; and let us drink our young captain's health, +and good luck to him." + +Luff had enticed his captain to a longer walk than he expected; and no +sooner had they entered the Gap Lane than he began a quarrel, and +presently attacked him, sword in hand. Laud defended himself with great +dexterity, until his sword was broken, and he himself disarmed. He fled +towards the marshes, but was overtaken, cut down, and cast for dead into +one of those deep marsh ditches which abound in the neighbourhood of +Orford. After Luff had thus wreaked his vengeance, he crept stealthily +towards the town; and as he went picked up Laud's watch, which had +fallen from his pocket. It made his blood, already heated with exertion, +grow cold with conscious horror. He was too great a villain, however, to +have much thought of mercy, pity, or repentance. He entered the +Compasses and called for a strong north-wester, and inquired for his +men, and learned they had been gone to their boat some time. He gave +them some coarse malediction for their pains, and sat down to his +strong potation. + +The two men were at that time crossing a plank over the very dyke which +Laud had been cast into, and were startled by his groans. On looking +about them they observed a man's head just out of the water, beside the +bank; they pulled him out, and found to their horror that it was Laud. +Having decided on taking him to his uncle's, they lifted Laud up and +carried him across the marshes, and laid him as carefully as they could +upon some old sails at the bottom of the boat; and instead of going down +the river to Hollesley Bay, they rowed directly up the river with the +flood tide. They arrived at Aldborough just as the tide turned, and had +the precaution or prudence, directly they landed, to send their boat +adrift; which, getting into the channel, was carried down the river, and +was cast upon a sand-bank, within a few yards of the smuggler's cutter, +by which means it was supposed that the two men had perished; for at +daybreak, when Luff came on board, he was the first to discover the +boat, keel upwards, upon the bank. + +"It served them right," said the captain, "for leaving their commander +behind them." + +They had safely conveyed Will Laud to the Jolly Tar, which then stood +close to the river's side. His uncle was sent for, who came, attended by +Mr. Nursey, at that time the skilful and highly esteemed surgeon of +Aldborough. He found him dreadfully wounded; but at length, by strict +attention and consummate skill, succeeded in effecting a cure. That +uncle had always loved his nephew, and in some measure considered +himself responsible for the waywardness of his seafaring propensities; +and he took him to his home, and treated him in every respect as a lost +son restored. + +Here, then, was an opportunity--a golden opportunity--for reformation. +Laud's former character had been cancelled by his service in the British +navy; and his gallant conduct on the glorious 1st of June had obtained +for him a free discharge, with prize-money, and certificate of character +in the service. He was now placed in a situation calculated to restore +him to independence. In the years 1795 and 1796 he served his uncle +faithfully; and such were the hopes entertained of his steadiness and +attention to business, that at the end of that year, when his uncle +died, he left him all that he possessed. + +It may seem strange that Laud should never have sought for Margaret +Catchpole during all this time, or that she should not have made further +inquiries about him. Had they met at this period, and come to a mutual +explanation, they might both have been spared from that misery and +remorse attendant upon a degraded character. But it was otherwise +decreed. He had always brooded over his imaginary wrongs at the hands of +Margaret; had learned to think little of her; and never to have forgiven +her for that unfortunate speech the night he left Ipswich. And when he +became a master and a man of substance (as above related), he did not +appear to be settled or happy. The news of Luff's death might have been +supposed to take away from him any hankering after the illicit pursuits +of his youth; but the escape of some of the crew, and their strong +attachment to Laud, induced him to listen to their proposals of service, +and to employ a ship in the trade; and he actually sent out smugglers, +though he would not head them himself; so that, very soon after the +decease of his uncle, Laud became deeply engaged again in the illicit +traffic of the coast. + +But what was Margaret doing all this time? She returned to her uncle and +aunt Leader, and became their assistant. She undertook once more the +management of the children, and was instrumental in restoring order and +decency in the house. She did not feel quite so lively an interest in +this employment as she had formerly done, though her aunt's manner was a +complete contrast to what it had formerly been. By her uncle's advice, +she put the money she never considered her own into the hands of the +much-respected general shopkeeper of the parish, who placed it in the +bank, and became a trustee for her. Still she resolved not to touch it, +but to keep it, as the property of Laud, until she should be more sure +of his death. She had great hopes still that she should one day see him +again. She lived with her uncle and aunt, and made herself useful in +every possible way; nor did she ever murmur at her condition, though she +often sighed over past misfortunes. + +In the month of May, 1797, she received a letter from old George Teager, +her fellow-servant, which ran thus:-- + + "Margaret, + + "This comes hoping it may find you well, as it still leaves me, + though very deaf. I have got a bit of news for you, which I know + you will be glad to hear. I was going down the Wash yesterday, when + who should I meet but Will Laud? He looked uncommon well, and was + very civil to me. He asked me many questions about you; and I set + him right about some bad splints and curbs he had got in his head. + He told me he should soon manage to see you, so no more from old + + "George Teager. + + "Margaret's Green, May 3rd, 1797." + +Imagine poor Margaret's anxiety. She waited seven days in such a state +of feverish suspense as only those so situated can feel. She rested +neither day nor night, but became each morning more anxiously disturbed, +until she determined to go herself to Ipswich. + +Now Laud had been to Ipswich to purchase some timber, and to dispose of +some of his smuggled goods. He had met old Teager, the coachman, and had +treated him with a friendly glass, which the old man seldom refused. He +had also met an old messmate accidentally; a good-for-nothing fellow, +whom Luff had formerly made use of to deceive Margaret with false +reports concerning him. Laud had treated this man to some grog; and in +talking over old times, the man disclosed some of Luff's villainy, with +which Laud had never before been acquainted; especially his conduct to +Margaret on that wretched night in which Laud had sought an interview +with her. This fellow, whose name was John Cook, told him that he was +one of the sailors bribed to deceive her, and to go backwards and +forwards with false reports to the kitchen of St. Margaret's Green. + +Laud now saw the reason for poor Margaret's exclamation, "I will have +nothing more to do with any sailors!" The truth broke on him with such +conviction, that he resolved to seek out his betrothed the very moment +he had fulfilled his engagement at Ipswich. It is a remarkable fact, +that, on the very same day on which Laud left the town with the full +determination to see and have an explanation with Margaret, she +determined to go to Ipswich, to explain (if she could find him) the +whole of her conduct. This was on the evening of the 9th of May, 1797. +She had frankly explained to her uncle the purpose of her journey; and +as to the money in the hands of the trustee, she said, "If a letter +comes to you, from me, about it, you can then consult with Mr. Smith +about its disposal. I fully expect," she added, "to meet Laud at +Ipswich, and whatever his fortunes may be, I am determined to share them +with him." + +She arrived at Ipswich that afternoon, and took up her abode at her +former lodgings at the Widow Syers', a distant relative of her mother's, +though by no means a desirable person for Margaret to abide with at such +a time. She did not go, as she ought to have done, to her good mistress, +who would have instituted every inquiry for her; but she chose to pursue +her own course. She saw the old coachman, and learned from him that he +had seen Laud at the Salutation, in Carr Street, only the day before. +She did not stay to ask any more questions, but off she went towards +the public-house in question. On her way, it was her misfortune to meet +with that vagabond, John Cook, the very fellow who had so often made a +dupe of her before, and who was now the cause of her performing an act +that is probably without precedent in female history. Intent but upon +one thing, the obtaining an interview with her lover, the mainspring of +all her prospects in life, and the centre to which all her hopes, +wishes, thoughts, and cares were pointed, she was almost crazy with +anxiety to see this worthless object of her idolatry. She had been +betrayed into misfortunes by her blindness on this point; and though +careful, prudent, and considerate upon almost every other thing, she had +been, and was still, the easy victim of any artful machination which had +for its bait the sight of her lover. Had she consulted any of her +friends, Mr. Stebbing, Mr. Brooks, Mr. Notcutt, or her beloved mistress, +she would not have fallen a prey to the artful villainy of a wicked man; +but Margaret had forgotten at this time her mistress, and every other +consideration, except the all-engrossing subject which filled her heart; +and she saw neither danger nor difficulty, right nor wrong, but was +ready to go anywhere, or to do anything, provided she could only have an +explanation with Laud. + +"Why, Margaret, is that you?" said John Cook as he met her, turning the +corner of the Chaise and Pair, on the evening of the 9th of May; "why, +where have you been all these livelong days? And what are you doing now +in Ipswich?" + +"I am in search of Laud: have you seen or heard anything of him to-day?" + +"Yes, that I have; you are in luck to meet with the only person in the +world who could tell you where he is! But this is not the place to be +talking secrets. Come with me to the Marquis Cornwallis, where Laud and +I have spent a merry time, and I will tell you all about him." + +There was no difficulty in persuading her to accompany him, and on +arriving at the inn, Margaret found by this fellow's conversation with +the landlord, that Laud and he had spent the previous evening at that +house. This confirmed her belief in his story, and enabled him to make +her the easy dupe of all the vile inventions which were to follow. + +They requested that they might have the parlour to themselves; and the +ever-liberal Margaret ordered some refreshment, though she could, from +her anxiety, partake of nothing herself. + +"Well, I promised you I would tell you all about Laud; but first let me +tell you that I set him right about your ugly speech that night when you +got such a ducking." + +"Did you? did you, indeed? What did he say to it? Did he forgive me?" + +"Did he? Aye! I'll tell you what, I never saw a fellow so dumb-foundered +before. He looked almost like a madman, cursed his stars, and swore they +were all confederate against him. He swore you were the best creature in +the world, and if he could but see you, he would make you happy." + +"Oh, John! how good you were to tell him! But where is he? Is he in +Ipswich? Do bring me to him?" + +"Hold hard a bit; I must let you into a little bit of a secret. You must +know that Laud and I are upon such intimate terms, that we communicate +by a kind of expression known only to ourselves. He, as you know, went +back to smuggling again after your rap, though that was not intentional +on your part. He did not go to sea, but entered upon the timber trade, +though he employed about twenty men under him to carry on his traffic. +Now I know he would have gone in search of your hiding-place, if he had +not been compelled to hide himself. The fact is, he is escaped from an +arrest for five hundred pounds which he was bound to pay to the Excise, +and but for a very lucky turn he would have been nabbed last night." + +"Well, but where is he now?" + +"I will tell you where he may be found to-morrow. All I know now is, +that he took the mail last night, by the greatest good luck in the +world, and went off to London. He is to write to me to-night, and I +shall be able to tell you to-morrow." + +That this was all a mere invention of this rascal's, to get out of +Margaret all he could, the reader will easily believe. Lucky was it for +her that she did not tell him what sum of money she had belonging to +Laud, or every farthing of it would have gone into this fellow's hands. +As it was, he managed to get out of her what little cash she could +spare, under the promise of revealing to her the hiding-place of Laud. +After chatting with him a long time, and hearing much of herself and her +lover, all pure inventions of this fellow's brain, and easily detected +by any person with less blindness upon the subject, Margaret took her +leave of him, giving him half-a-crown to spend. She returned to the +Widow Syers', and, as might be supposed, passed a feverish night, +restless with nervous anxiety. Poor girl! she little thought of the +mischief then brooding for her ruin. + +The morrow came, bringing a letter to John Cook, of a very different +description to that which Margaret anticipated. It ran thus:-- + + "Dog and Bone, Lambeth, + "May 8th, 1797. + + "Jack, + + "I sold the bay mare at Smithfield yesterday. I might ha' got more, + but the nabs were about; so I wopt her off for ten. Old Snacks, at + the Bone here, got his 'centage. I crabbed the old chap as well as + I could; but he's up to snuff. You wouldn't ha' known old Peggy + again. We blacked her white legs and popt a white face on to her, + gave her a rat's tail, filed her teeth, and burnt her mark, and wop + me if I mightent ha' sold her for a six-year old, if I hadn't been + in a hurry. But she's off, they tell me, to serve in a foreign + country. She's a right good un, though an old'n. All's honour + bright, Jack! + + "I say, old boy, we talked o' the brown nag; can ye send him up to + Chelmsford? or if to the Dog and Bone, direct to your old chum, + + "Bob Bush, + "Sam Snacks, + "Dog and Bone, Lambeth. + + "To John Cook, + "Marquis Cornwallis, + "Ipswich, Suffolk." + +This letter, which was found some days later at the inn, and delivered +up to the constable of the parish of St. Margaret's, may serve to show +the connexion which this fellow had with a gang of horse-stealers, who, +at this time, infested the counties of Essex, Norfolk, and Suffolk. The +brown nag here mentioned was one which had been turned off in the +pastures of St. Margaret's, belonging to John Cobbold, Esq. He was a +high-spirited little horse, and aged. The eyes of this rogue had been +upon him, and a most diabolical project now entered his brain, of making +Margaret Catchpole, whose early feats of riding were not unknown to him, +the minister of this theft. + +"I shall make something out of her now," said the fellow, "if I can only +play upon her feelings. How shall I do it?" + +A thought struck him that he would tear off the half of the letter +containing the post-mark, and paste one which he would invent, on that +half, and sign it for Will Laud. Margaret knew little or nothing of +Will's handwriting, so that she could easily be deceived in this +respect; and if she knew that it was not his, the fellow was ready +enough to swear that he had hurt his hand by the falling of a spar, and +so got a friend to write it for him. He put his wits to work, and +concocted an epistle as nearly pertinent to what he had made out Laud's +case to be, as he could. + +He dated it from the same place from whence he received his own, and +intended to write to Bob Bush to take the horse off Margaret's hands, +if he could get her on to it. He wrote thus:-- + + "Dog and Bone, Lambeth, May 9th, 1797. + "Dear Jack, + + "Hurrah, my boy! Safely anchored, though I had cut my cable, and + run; but I have got into a friendly port, and my pursuers shan't + easily find me. Precious hard, though, Jack, after just finding out + my girl, to have to tack and leave her. You might lend a hand now, + just to serve an old friend. Margaret would make my present dull + time a little lighter, if you could but find her up, and put her on + the right road to find me. I think she would forgive me, if you + could explain matters a little to her. Tell her we could get + married here, and after a time all would be well. But, Jack, mum + must be the order of the day. Don't you fire a volley at me until + she's off to London. She must come incog, Jack; aye, in man's + clothes, if she can: you know why. A thought strikes me, which if + you put it into her head, will just suit her, and me too. Persuade + her to borrow the old pony of her master's, from the pasture on the + Woodbridge road, or to take it with French leave. It is worth + nothing, and will never be inquired after; and if disposed of, will + scarcely be missed. And if she was found out, it would only be + treated as a good spree! So, Jack, try her; she has a spirit equal + to the work, and we shall then be no more parted. Now, do this for + + "Your old friend, + "Will Laud." + +Margaret read this letter with mingled feelings of pain and pleasure, +but she implicitly believed every word of it, yet she did not like +Laud's plan. "Why not go and borrow the horse of old Teager," said she, +"if it must be so? I know he will lend it to me." + +"What, and tell him you want his stable-dress to ride to London in? Fine +fun he'd make of it, would he not? No, no, Margaret, that will never +do. We must take it with French leave, or let it alone." + +"I wish I could see him by some other means. I do not like his plan; and +yet, perhaps, he has none other to offer," said Margaret, as if +pondering within herself. + +"I can tell you he is not the man to offer it if he has," said Cook. +"Once put him off again, and it will be long enough before you ever see +or hear of him again." + +Margaret felt that such would be the case, and yielded to the artful +duplicity of this wicked man, and agreed to meet him the next night to +put their wild plan in practice. But as heaven willed that she should +have one more chance of escape from the evil which threatened her, the +excitement which she suffered brought on an attack of fever that very +night, and she was laid up for many days. The warning, however, was in +vain; and so soon as she recovered, she agreed to put their plan in +execution. + +It was on the 23rd of May that Margaret met John Cook at the place +before appointed, having previously bought herself a hat and a pair of +boots. But now a new obstacle presented itself, which, like the one just +alluded to, might have served as a warning, had any religious feelings +found place in Margaret's mind and heart. They went into the meadow, and +for more than an hour tried to catch the horse. But it was all in vain; +he would be caught by nobody but old Teager. + +What was to be done now? + +"This is a turn I did not bargain for," said John Cook, "and I have +written to Laud to say you will be, without fail, at the place I shall +tell you of when you are once mounted. A horse we came for, and a horse +we will have, for I would not disappoint the captain for a hundred +horses; so follow me, Margaret." + +The girl hesitated, and inquired what it was he proposed to do. + +"Not many yards off, in yonder stable, there are two noble horses that +are worth riding; you shall take one of them." + +"Do you mean the carriage-horses? I dare not ride one of them." + +"Nonsense, girl! If you don't come along and just do as I bid you, hang +me if I don't write to Laud, and tell him you don't care anything about +him. Come along! I must help you over the low wall against the end of +the garden. Come along! You have fairly begun the work; don't give it +up." + +Margaret never wanted courage until that moment, and then she followed, +trembling from head to foot. + +The fellow got on to the wall and assisted her up and down. He then went +across the lawn to the stable-yard with the trembling Margaret at his +heels; they found the stable-door locked; but the wicket at the side, by +the muck-bin, was unhanked and stood ajar. Margaret got into the stable +through this place, and slipped back the bolt of the stable-door; the +horses had been accustomed to her coming into the stable for straw for +her fire, and she had often spoke to them and patted them, so that her +voice now, as she said, "Whoho, Crop!" and "Gently, Rochford!" was +familiar to them; and they did not rise up until John Cook entered and +began to strike a light. + +"Now, Margaret, pull the litter down toward the stable-door, whilst I +just look into the harness-house." + +Rochford, a fiery grey horse which Mr. Cobbold had lately purchased from +Lord Rochford, at Easton, rose up and snorted, and clanked his chains so +terribly, that Margaret expected every moment that old George who slept +over the stable, would present himself; but the old man was deaf, and +heavy in his sleep, and had only returned from Mrs. Proby's, of +Stratford, late that evening, and had not been in bed above an hour, so +that he was in his first sound sleep. + +"Margaret, you must take this lantern, and just move the dark part +round, and it will show you where the old boy's stable-dress is; go up +the stairs carefully, and bring it down with you." + +Margaret did so. She went with breathless step to the bedside of the +coachman. His stable dress was upon the floor; she took it up gently, +and as cautiously receded with it down to the stable again, closing the +door without noise. + +"So far so good, Margaret. Now, do you dress yourself there in the empty +stall, while I saddle and bridle the further horse." + +This, however, was more than John Cook could do, for Rochford was of +such a spirit, and sent out at him with such vengeance that he dared not +go up to him; nor could he without Margaret's help put the saddle or +bridle on to Crop. She dressed herself as quickly as she could in the +coachman's stable-dress; he being a little fellow, and Margaret rather +tall, they only hung about her a little loosely, but were not too long +for her. When she came from the stall, after rolling her own things in a +bundle, and putting them into the very bottom of the seed-box, under the +manger, and covering them with hay, she looked exactly like a young +groom. She went up to the Crop horse and patted him on the neck, whilst +her companion saddled and bridled him; she then tied some straw round +his feet, so that no noise should be made in the stable-yard, and out +the gallant fellow was led, ready for such a journey and for such a +rider as never before had mounted his back. + +"Now my girl," exclaimed Cook, "screw up your courage to the start! Come +into the meadow. I can let you out on to the Woodbridge road, and then +off with you." + +"But where am I to find him? You have not told me that," exclaimed +Margaret. + +"Mount! and I will tell you." + +Margaret, with his aid, was soon in the saddle, and once there, she felt +her own command over her steed. + +"Now Margaret," he replied, "mind what I say: you must sell that horse +if you can, at Chelmsford market to-morrow morning; if not, you must +ride on to the Bull, in Aldgate, London; but if you regard your own and +your lover's safety, you will sell the horse first, and then find your +way to the Dog and Bone public-house, at Lambeth; there you will find +Will Laud expecting you. Sell the horse for all you can get; say he is +worth a hundred guineas, and that your master, Squire John Cook, sent +you up to sell him." + +The horse was a strawberry roan colour, remarkable for his action and +the spirit with which he went through a journey. His ears were short +enough, for, in accordance with a barbarous practice of that day, they +were cropped; few that ever knew the horse could forget him; in harness +he carried himself as proudly as if he had been trained to exhibit his +beauty, but this was his constant habit; his spirit was such, that he +was never touched with a whip, and never exhibited the least disposition +to restiveness; free, easy, gentle, noble, swift, untiring, graceful, +and grand--he was admired wherever he went; and the short coachman, who +occasionally used to ride him, made him, a sixteen-hand horse, look at +least a hand higher. What an object was Margaret Catchpole upon him! Her +spirit was up as well as Crop's; her resolution to go through all she +had undertaken was fixed, and in reply to John Cook's question, when +they came to the paddock-gate, "Are you ready, Margaret?" she replied, +"Quite ready!" + +"And now, off with you," said the fellow, as he opened the gate. +"Remember the 'Dog and Bone.' A hundred guineas for the horse, and you +will be a happy woman;" and off started poor Margaret at a sweeping pace +for the London road. + +St. Margaret's clock struck one, just as she passed the front of that +house in which she had lived so much respected, and in which, +unconscious of her guilt, slept the kindest master and mistress that a +servant ever knew. + +But Margaret rode on, reckless of all the ills that might await her, and +thinking only of the lover that she was to meet at the end of her mad +journey. + +The guard of the mail-coach observed to the driver of the Ipswich mail, +as Margaret met it, about two miles before she reached Colchester, +"That's Mr. Cobbold's Crop horse! There must be something the matter in +the family by the pace the groom is going. Did you see the fellow's +stable-dress up to his knees? There's something amiss, or the horse is +stolen." + +When he came to Ipswich, the man mentioned the circumstance at the +coach-office, and said he was positive something was wrong. + +Mr. Bailey, the postmaster, immediately sent a messenger with a note, to +inform Mr. Cobbold that the guard had met some one riding his horse very +fast on the London road. + +It was five o'clock when the man rang loudly at the porch-bell; the +footman came down in a great hurry and carried up the note to his +master's room, who quickly ordered him to go to the stable and see if +George Teager and the horses were safe. He ran to the stable, and true +enough, he found the Crop horse gone. He called out to George, whom, at +first, he suspected of having gone off with the horse, "Hullo, George; +Crop is gone!" + +The old man jumped up. "What's the matter? Who calls?" + +"One of the horses is stolen, George; you must come down immediately; it +was met two miles this side of Colchester!" + +"Come, come, Tom, none o' your tricks! this is only some of your +nonsense: can't ye let an old fellow rest in his bed without playing off +your boy's tricks? what have you done with my stable dress?" + +This made Thomas bolt upstairs. + +"I know nothing of your stable-dress; I tell you master will be here in +a minute: on with your livery. I'll be whipped if somebody has not +stolen the fustians! Come, old boy, this is no fun, it's as true as you +are staring there; so up with you." + +George found by his companion's earnest manner that he spoke the truth, +and putting on his livery he came down; he was, as many a man at his age +and in his situation would be, much bewildered. He ascertained, however, +that the thief had taken his master's new saddle and bridle, and a +small stick of his own. He observed that it must have been an old +practitioner, by the straw being littered down to the door, and pointed +out to Thomas that the horse's hoofs had been covered with straw to +prevent them clattering on the pavement of the yard. His master soon +came down and easily tracked the horse to the paddock gate. Of course +all the family were roused. "Go directly, George, up to Mr. Spink's, the +dealer's, who got this horse for me, and knows him as well as you do, +and order a post-chaise from the Lion, and bring Mr. Spink here. You +must both of you pursue the thief, even to London. Be as quick as you +can." + +In the meantime a handbill was written and sent to Mr. Jackson's, of the +_County Press_, with a request that copies might be struck off +immediately, in time for the nine o'clock coaches to London. It was to +this effect:-- + + "TWENTY GUINEAS REWARD. + + "Whereas, last night, or this morning, May 24th, a fine strawberry + roan grey gelding was stolen out of the stable of John Cobbold, + Esq., of St. Margaret's Green, Ipswich, together with a new saddle + and bridle, and the coachman's stable-dress. Whoever shall give + information of the robber, so as to lead to the recovery of the + horse, or the conviction of the offender, shall receive the above + reward at the hands of the owner. + + "N.B. The horse is sixteen hands high, has cropped ears, is six + years old, has a cut tail, and is very strong and very fast. + + "Ipswich, May 24th, 1797." + +This was struck off as soon as possible, and circulated over the town +and through the country, by every vehicle leaving the town. + +It was about seven o'clock when old Teager and Mr. Spink left Ipswich +for Colchester, so that Margaret had some hours' start of her pursuers. +As they went on they heard at every toll-gate of a young man having +gone through on just the description of horse given, so that it was a +warm scent before them. + +When they arrived at Chelmsford, through a misdirection of some person, +they were told that the same horse was seen going on to Maldon, in the +hundreds of Essex; and they had just given the post-boy orders to turn +off the London road in pursuit, as Mr. Alston, of Diss, rode into the +yard of the Black Boy as the pursuers were in the act of getting into +the chaise. + +"Pray, sir, may I be so bold as to ask if you came far along the London +road?" + +"I left town this morning, and am now on my journey to Manningtree. Why +do you ask?" + +"Because I am in pursuit of a thief. You did not chance to meet a man +riding a strawberry roan carriage-horse?" + +"Yes, I did; and remarked at the time that I thought it was the finest +shaped horse I had ever seen. He was a crop, with high action and bold +crest." + +"It is the very horse! Whereabouts might you meet him, sir?" + +"I met him I should say about five miles on the other side of Romford, +near to Ilford. It was about nine o'clock. I remarked to myself, what a +fool the lad must be who was riding him, that he did not manage to +fasten his overalls down at his ankles, as I could see his stockings up +to his knees. Some gentleman I thought was sending him into livery +stables." + +"We are greatly obliged to you, sir. On, boy, on!" and the post-chaise +dashed out of the yard. + +But for the accidental meeting of Mr. Alston it is very probable +Margaret would have escaped; but the information thus given put the +pursuers on the right scent, just in the right time. + +Meantime let us accompany Margaret on her perilous expedition. She had +actually ridden the horse from Ipswich to London in the space of eight +hours and a half; it being seventy miles from that place to the Bull, in +Aldgate. She only stopped once on the road, at a small public-house, +called the Trowel and Hammer, at Marks Tey, in Essex; here she gave her +gallant horse a feed of corn, and had a glass of brandy and water and a +biscuit. It was just five o'clock when she baited. She dared not to +offer the horse for sale at Chelmsford for fear of detection, at such an +early hour. She felt persuaded that a pursuit would be made, and hoped +to hide herself in the metropolis before her pursuers could reach her. +Accordingly she allowed the horse no more time than was sufficient for +him to finish his corn, and off she went again for nearly five hours' +further ride. As she approached town many were the eyes directed towards +her, both on account of the remarkable character of the horse, and the +singular appearance of the rider. Margaret took no notice of any one, +but pushed on her willing steed with the same indifference as if she had +been sent upon an errand of only a few miles; nor was the horse +apparently fatigued in the least when they arrived at the Bull Inn, +which they did about half-past nine o'clock. + +She rode quietly down the yard, called for the ostler, dismounted, shook +her trousers down, and addressed the man in as off-hand a manner as if +she were a real groom. + +"Rub that horse down well, and get him cool and comfortable; give him a +sup of water and a mouthful of hay, and I will come and see him fed." + +"Have you rode far, young man?" asked the ostler. + +"Not a very great way. I came out of Chelmsford this morning. See and +rub his ears dry, ostler. You must make him look as well as you can, for +I expect my master up in town to-night; and if I don't meet with a +customer for that horse he'll blow me up." + +"He's a very fine horse; and if as good as he looks, would be worth any +man's money." + +"He's better than he looks, ostler: and 'tisn't any man's money that +will buy him. He must give a good price for him, whoever buys him. But +look well after him. I must go and get a bait myself." + +She went into the bar, ordered her breakfast, took up the newspaper, +and with all the airs of a consequential young jockey sat down to the +perusal of it. After taking some refreshment she got up to see her horse +fed. + +The ostler, finding so fine a horse was for sale, apprised a +livery-stable-keeper of his acquaintance, who on hearing his +representation hastened to look at him. Margaret was called out; the +animal exhibited; under-valued by the dealer in the style so +characteristic of such gentry; and his good qualifications well vouched +for by the young groom. + +"Did you ever see a better shape?" exclaimed Margaret. "Look at his +fore-end; there's a crest, there's a shoulder, there's a head! Look at +his legs, as straight and clean as a colt's; and as for quarters, where +will you find such for strength and beauty? He's six-year old next +grass; has never done any hard work before this day; and you won't find +a puff as big as a pea in any of his sinews. Quiet to ride or drive, and +without a fault. Now, what's the matter with him?" + +This was such a poser to the dealer that he could only reply by asking, +"Can I have a warranty with him?" + +"To be sure you can," said Margaret. "You may have a written one from +me; or, if you like better to deal with my master, you may wait till he +comes up, and then he'll give you a character, and perhaps you'll make a +better bargain with him than you will with me." + +"Are you authorized to sell the horse?" + +"To be sure I am, or else I should not stand here to talk with you about +him." + +"Who does he belong to, young man?" + +"He belongs to my master, Mr. Cook, of Ipswich, in Suffolk." + +"What do you want for him?" + +"One hundred guineas." + +"May I take him for a trial?" + +"Yes; when you have bought and paid for him. He is not to go out of my +sight until I receive the money for him, or deliver the horse himself +into my master's charge." + +"I should like to see him down our ride; I could better judge of his +paces." + +"Clap the saddle on him. I will ride him where you like; or I will let +you drive me with him; but I do not trust any one else with him whilst +he is in my care." + +The saddle and bridle were put on, and Crop came out of the stable free, +and ready to trot back again to Ipswich if his rider was so disposed. He +was as fresh and joyous as a lark, and sprang up into the air with +almost as light a heart. Margaret mounted awkwardly; put her foot into +the stirrup the wrong way; and perceiving that this was noticed, she +crossed the stirrups over the saddle in front of her, saying, + +"My master always makes me ride without stirrups, and I like it best." + +In truth she sat the horse better without them; and had she had no +saddle, it would have suited her even better still; but this seemed to +have the desired effect. + +The dealer, however, entertained some suspicions from the awkward manner +of the groom, and having already suffered for purchasing a stolen horse, +he was more on his guard than he otherwise might have been. + +They went out of the stable-yard together, and reached the ride +belonging to the dealer, and Margaret turned her horse in as she was +directed. The stable lads peeped out to see what kind of nag their +master was buying, and were not satisfied with a glance, but looked with +much admiration at him. + +"Just trot him down the ride, young man." + +Margaret dashed down the yard and back again. + +"Soho! my fine fellow! Peter," he said to his head man, "just come and +look at this nag." + +Peter stepped forward, and gave his master a knowing look, as much as to +say, "Am I to decry him?" + +"Look at his mouth!" + +Peter did so. + +"How is it, Peter?" + +"All right, sir." + +"What's his age?" + +"Rising six." + +"What do you say to him?" + +Peter looked at every point, then scratched his head, and again looked +at his master; but he received no sign to manoeuvre; so he replied, +"Why, master, if you ask for truth you shall have it. He's a right good +one; that is it." + +"Well, young man, now what is the lowest price you will take?" + +"I told you his price when you asked me before. You don't expect me to +lower the price of my own horse without a bid! What do you say you will +give?" + +"Why, I don't know! He's not every man's horse! Not easily matched; and +not suited for a town horse; but I'll bid you fifty guineas for him." + +"Thank you for your bid, sir; but you must come nigh to double that +before you'll buy." + +"Will you take sixty for him?" + +"No; I will not." + +"Will you take seventy? Come now, I'll give you seventy. You may go a +long way before you'll get such another offer. Say, will you take it?" + +"Add another ten to it and it shall be a bargain. I will take eighty." + +"Just walk him down again. Peter, what do you think of him?" + +"He's worth the money; that's what I say. Buy him, master." + +"Well, young man, I'll take the horse; but you must give me a written +warranty with him." + +"That I'll do; but perhaps you'll not like to conclude the bargain +without master's warranty; if so, we had better not exactly conclude the +price." + +This so took the dealer aback, that it drove away all suspicions, and he +said, "No, no; your warranty will do. I'll give you the money." He was +in the act of going to the gateway as he saw one of his men come into +the yard, with a paper in his hand, which proved to be one of the +identical hand-bills, offering a reward of twenty guineas for the very +horse he had just bought. "Peter," he called out, "tell the young man +just to walk that horse once more up the yard, and come you here." + +He showed Peter the bill, who said: "It's the very horse!" + +"Go you and fetch a constable; I'll keep him in play a bit until he +comes." + +"He's a charming shaped horse, young man. I'd just a mind to ask you if +you'd throw the saddle and bridle into the bargain." + +"Why, master told me I might sell that if I pleased, and if I sold well, +that should be my perquisite." + +"I see 'tis a country-made saddle; but it looks pretty good. What will +you have for it?" + +"Four guineas for both. Come, I have let you take the horse at much less +than he is worth; you can afford to give me a fair price for the saddle +and bridle, which are, you see, quite new." + +By this time Peter returned with the constable; but Margaret was joking +about the saddle and bridle, and greatly rejoicing at her success, not +the least conscious of the presence of the man of the law, or of the +dreadful fate which awaited her. + +"Did you say that horse came from Ipswich, young man?" said the dealer. + +"I did," said she. + +"When did he leave Ipswich?" + +"Yesterday." + +"Did you leave with him?" + +"Yes, I did; I told you so." + +"No, you didn't; you told me you rode him from Chelmsford." + +"So I did; and from Ipswich too." + +"What was your master's name?" + +"Mr. John Cook," said Margaret, who now began to feel a little uneasy. + +"Are you sure it was not Mr. John Cobbold? Look at that hand-bill, young +man." + +Margaret saw only her master's name, and all her fortitude forsook her; +she swooned away in a moment, and would have fallen from the horse, had +not the constable caught her by her jacket as she was falling; and in +endeavouring to support her off the horse the jacket flew open, and to +the astonishment of all around, lo, and behold, it was a woman! + +Margaret was taken into custody; and such a hubbub was created in the +neighbourhood, that the story of a female horse-stealer was soon spread +abroad, and people began to crowd into the yard. Among the multitude was +a son-in-law of Mr. Cobbold's, who happened to be in town at the time, +and identified both the horse and his rider. It was not long before the +coachman and Mr. Spink made their appearance, and she was taken before a +magistrate, and immediately committed to Newgate, until further evidence +could be produced. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +PREPARATION FOR TRIAL + + +Margaret Catchpole was taken into custody; and whilst she was spending a +dismal night in the dungeon, a letter was on the road to Ipswich, to +inform her master of the capture of the thief. + +The wretched young woman had now time for rest and reflection. Instead +of meeting her lover, for which purpose alone she had undertaken her +desperate enterprise, she had now before her eyes the terrors of the +law, the certainty of conviction, the probability of a violent and +shameful death. Who knew anything of the cause which had induced her to +steal the horse, and who would pity her if they did? The secret was +known only to herself, and she resolved it should continue so, lest her +lover should be involved in the consequences of her guilt. + +It will readily be believed that the news of what had happened created +no small sensation in the minds of the various members of that family +who had so dearly loved the miserable culprit. + +It was immediately arranged that both Mr. and Mrs. Cobbold should go to +town, and they arrived about nine o'clock in the evening at the Four +Swans, Bishopsgate Street. + +At the time fixed for the examination of the prisoner before the +magistrates, Mr. and Mrs. Cobbold arrived at the Police-office in +Whitechapel. + +Many gentlemen were present, who having heard the case mentioned, had +obtained permission to attend. + +The office was crowded, and the street also, for it was understood that +Margaret was to be brought up for examination. Hundreds who knew nothing +of the parties, but only that a female had stolen a horse, were +assembled purely from curiosity to see such a person. + +Margaret was brought up in proper custody, and found herself the object +of jokes and gibes amidst the thoughtless rabble of the streets. She was +conducted into an ante-room adjoining the court, and as a door opened +into the passage from the magistrates' private room, she thought she +heard her mistress's voice. Another moment convinced her that she saw +her. It was to her a moment of great bitterness and agony. + +At the request of the prosecutor, she was summoned into the magistrates' +private room, before going into the public court. She was terrified +beyond measure at the idea of encountering the sight of her mistress. +She begged hard not to be taken into her presence, but she was compelled +to go in. The moment she saw her she exclaimed: "Oh, my dear mistress!" +and fell to the ground. She was lifted up and placed in a chair; and +from her dreadful state of agitation, it was agreed among the +magistrates that, upon her recovery, her deposition should be taken +where she then was. Accordingly, the clerk was summoned from the public +office into the private room. + +Her mistress as well as herself was greatly affected at the interview, +and deeply touched at her distress. All the gentlemen present felt more +than commonly interested in the scene. + +The girl slowly revived; the gentlemen took their seats, and the clerk +was ordered to take down her deposition. The magistrate told her that +the confession she had made, and might now make, would be evidence +against her on her trial, and that she was at liberty to speak, or not, +as she pleased. + +Having implored and obtained forgiveness from her master and mistress, +Margaret became more composed, and made a full confession of her guilt. +She acknowledged that she had been persuaded, and even compelled, to +this act by a man named John Cook, a sailor at Ipswich, and declared +that she stole the horse by his direction and threats; that she was to +have sold it at Chelmsford, but that she dared not offer it there. She +did not once betray her lover's name, or mention anything about his +hiding-place; but she described all the particulars of the robbery with +which the reader is acquainted, and stated, as a corroborative fact, +that her own clothes would be found, if not already removed, under the +manger of the empty stall. + +Her deposition having been then read over to her by the clerk, she +signed her name to it. Before they parted, Mrs. Cobbold spoke to her +consolingly, while she placed before her mind the heinousness of her +offence. Poor Margaret felt better after this, and with a heart very +much humbled, was committed to Newgate by N. Bond, Esq., with an order +for her removal as soon as the forms could be gone through, to the gaol +of the county in which the offence was committed. Mr. Cobbold was bound +over to prosecute, which being done, that gentleman and his lady +returned to their hotel. + +Every effort was made to discover the resort of John Cook; but that +scamp, the moment he heard of the capture, decamped, nor was he ever +after heard of. He was well known; and the landlord of the Marquis +Cornwallis testified to Margaret's having been at his house with the +man, as also his being at the same place with Captain Laud, as he was +called, the evening before. But what became of him no one ever knew. The +half of a letter from his companion in London was found at the inn, and +was adduced to show his connexion with a gang of horse-stealers; but +this only served to tell against poor Margaret on her trial. + +Margaret was removed to Ipswich by _habeas corpus_, July 6th, 1797, and +Mr. Ripshaw, the gaoler, informed her mistress of her arrival. + +On the evening of the day Margaret arrived at Ipswich, she wrote the +following letter to her mistress. It has been already stated that she +had been taught to read and write, and keep accounts, by Mrs. Cobbold, +when she superintended the education of her family; and the results of +this teaching, as exemplified in the touching epistles which we shall +hereafter present to the reader, will doubtless be received with +singular interest, copied as they are from the original documents, which +are carefully preserved in the family. The following is the first she +ever wrote:-- + + "Ipswich, Thursday, July 6th, 1797. + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "Your wretched servant has this evening arrived at the county gaol. + Hope induced me to look forward to an earlier abode near you, that + I might have the consolation of your instruction and advice. Oh! my + honoured lady, when I look upon that dear spot in which you live, + and see those green fields before your house, in which I used to + walk and play with your dear children, I think the more deeply of + the gloom of my felon's chamber, from which I can even at this + moment behold them. They recall to my mind those happy hours in + which I enjoyed your approbation and respect. How wretched do I now + feel! Oh! what have I not lost! + + "I am come to Ipswich to take my trial, and am already condemned + by my own conscience more severely than any judge can condemn me. + But yours must be the task to teach me how to escape, not the + condemnation of the judge, but of my own heart. Oh, my dear lady! + do come and see me! Many people were kind to me at Newgate, and + many persons contributed to my necessities; some indeed flattered + me, and called me a brave girl for my recent act, which they termed + clever and courageous. But if they were so, dear lady, why should I + now feel so much fear? I thought them poor consolers, and not half + such sincere friends as those who told me, as you did, the + greatness of my offence, and the probable extent of ultimate + punishment. + + "Honoured madam, would you let a messenger go to my dear father and + tell him where I am, and how much I desire to see him? I fear you + will think me very bold and troublesome, but I know your kind heart + will make allowances for my troubled mind. I should like to see my + Uncle Leader. But I should, first of all, like to see you, my dear + lady. Perhaps it will not be long before I shall see you no more. I + wish to make up my mind to the worst, but I am at times dreadfully + troubled. I feel it so hard to be suddenly torn away from every + earthly bond, and some on earth I do so dearly love; and none more + deserves that love than you do. Pray come to me; and ever believe + me + + "Your grateful, though + "Most wretched servant, + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + +"P.S.--Mr. Ripshaw has promised to send you this letter this evening. He +tells me you have often inquired for me." + +The chaplain of the gaol was a friend of Mrs. Cobbold's; she wrote a +note to him requesting him to accompany her at any hour most convenient +to himself, to see her poor servant. At eleven o'clock the next day, the +interview took place between the wretched culprit and this truly +Christian lady. She spent some hours with that disconsolate being, whose +whole thoughts seemed to be directed with bitter agony to days of past +happiness. For though she had endured much mortification in early life, +she had experienced the comfort and consolation of a true and +disinterested friend and benefactress in the person of that kind +mistress, and her naturally intelligent mind had duly appreciated these +benefits. + +These visits were repeated many times, and with the most beneficial +effects on the mind of the culprit. Her present anguish was the keener, +because her sensibilities were all so acutely alive to the memory of the +past. It was her mistress's endeavour not to suffer her to be deceived +with any false hopes. She was well aware that the penalty of her crime +was death, and that unless her instigating accomplice could be delivered +up to justice, she stood every chance of being made a public example, on +account of the great frequency of the crime. To such an extent had +horse-stealing been carried on in the counties of Suffolk and Essex, +that scarce a week passed without rewards being offered for the +apprehension of the thieves. + +Margaret's interviews with her father and brother were still more deeply +affecting: but to them and to her beloved mistress alone did she make +known the real circumstances, attending her stealing the horse. She did +not attempt, however, to defend the act, nor would she admit that +another's influence was any exculpation of her offence. Mr. Stebbing, +the surgeon of the gaol, who had been her first friend in Ipswich, was +very kind to her, as was likewise his benevolent daughter, who lent her +many useful books. But the being she most wished to see, and from whose +memory she had never thought she could have been displaced, came not +near her in her adversity. William Laud had been at Nacton, to see her +father and brother. The report of her confession had reached him--he had +seen it in the newspapers; and it altered all his views and intentions +respecting her; so that the very act which she had done in the hope of +strengthening his attachment to her, was the direct cause of his +deserting her. In fact, he believed that she had committed the act from +an attachment to somebody else, and he gave up all idea of her for the +future. + +But Margaret was still true to _him_. In one of her interviews with Mrs. +Cobbold, that kind and good lady, referring to the fact of Laud's not +coming near her in her adversity, said earnestly-- + +"You must endeavour to think less of him, Margaret." + +"It is hard, madam," was the reply, "for flesh and blood not to think of +one who has been in one's thoughts so many years of one's life. In happy +as well as miserable hours, I have thought of him, madam, and have +always hoped for the best. He is still in all my prayers!" + +"Your hopes of him, Margaret, must now be at an end. It would have been +happier for you, if they ended when you lived with me." + +"Perhaps so, good lady; perhaps so. Or even earlier. I think now of my +poor sister Susan's last words: 'Margaret, you will never marry William +Laud.' I had hoped that these words were only the fears of the moment; +but, alas! I perceive they will prove too true!" + +The only diversion of Margaret's mind at this period, from a fixed and +undivided attention to heavenly things, was the one hope of seeing Laud. +She clung with tenacity to this, as a sort of last farewell to all +things in the world. She said, that had she but one interview with him, +she should then have no other wish but to die. + +Time flew fast, and the day of her trial approached. She was to depart +for Bury, where the assizes were held, early on the morning of the 9th +of August; and, on the preceding day, she wrote the following letter to +her mistress:-- + + "IPSWICH GAOL, August 8th, 1797. + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "By the time you read this, which I expect will be at your happy + breakfast-table to-morrow morning, your poor servant will be at + Bury, awaiting the awful moment of her condemnation. I could not + leave this place, however, without pouring out my heart to you, my + dear and honoured lady; thanking you for your great kindness and + Christian charity to my poor soul. I have confessed my guilt to God + and man, and I go to my trial with the same determination to plead + guilty before both. + + "Honoured madam, I am told that the judge will call upon me to know + if I have anybody in court to speak to my character. Now, though I + cannot hope, and indeed would not urge you to be present in court, + considering the state you are now in,[9] yet you have spoken well + of me in private, and I know you would never fear to speak publicly + that which you have said of me in private. Perhaps a line from you + would do that which I want. You well know, my dear madam, that it + is not from any hope of its obtaining a pardon for me that I ask + it; but it is from the hope that one, whom I shall never see again, + may by some means catch a sight of it; and may think better of me + than the world at large, who know nothing of me, can do. Pardon + this weakness. + + "Think not that I have any hope of mercy or pardon here. You have + taught me how to hope for both hereafter. You have shown me much + mercy and pity here, and the Lord reward you and my dear master for + your unmerited compassion to your wretched servant! You have + fortified my mind with the riches of consolation in that religion + which I hope will be poured with tenfold increase into your own + heart, and give you that peace you are so anxious I should possess. + It grieves me to see my fellow-prisoners so unprepared for the fate + which awaits them. Oh, that they had such friends as I have had! + Oh, that they had been partakers of the same consolation as myself! + And now, dearest lady, I have only to request your mention of me in + your prayers. Bless you, my dear madam! God bless you and your dear + children, and may they live to be a blessing to your old age! Give + my kind thanks to all those friends who may ever inquire about me. + And now, dearest lady, pardon the errors of this letter, as you + have done all the graver faults of your ever grateful and now + happier servant, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "To MRS. COBBOLD, St. Margaret's Green, Ipswich." + +Margaret, with several other prisoners, departed for Bury assizes in the +prisoners' van, which started at six o'clock on the 9th of August, 1797, +under the care of Mr. Ripshaw, the gaoler, and arrived at that place +about eleven o'clock in the forenoon. + +The town was in a bustle, and the prisoners were received into the +borough gaol that day an hour or so previously to their trial--a day of +anxiety to many, but by too many spent in revelry and folly. The various +witnesses crowded into the town. The inns were filled on the 8th. +Expectation was alive and active; and the bustle of preparing for +business created a stir throughout that town, which at other times is +the most silent, the coldest, and the dullest place in England. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 9: The writer of these pages, one of the sons of that +excellent woman, was born on the 9th of September following.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +TRIAL AND CONDEMNATION TO DEATH + + +There are few things that appear in greater and more painful contrast +than the general rejoicing which attends the assizes of a country town, +and the solemn and awful purposes for which those assizes are held. It +may be said, that it is matter of rejoicing when justice is about to be +administered; and that honest people have a right to be glad when the +wicked are about to be punished. But there is great difference between a +reasonable show of rejoicing, and the overflowings of pomp and parade, +levity and folly. + +At the assizes at Bury, at the time we speak of, the sheriff's pomp and +state was something approaching to regal splendour. His gaudy liveries, +his gilded carriage, his courtly dress, and all the expenses attendant +upon such a station, made it a heavy burden to the unfortunate country +gentleman who should be appointed to such an office. The balls, too, and +public entertainments common at such time in the county, formed a +striking contrast to the sorrows and despair of the criminals. The +judges entered the town, the trumpets sounded, the bells rang, the +sheriff's carriage was surrounded with hosts of gapers of all kinds, to +see their lordships alight at the Angel steps. The Lord Chief Baron +Macdonald and Mr. Justice Heath attended divine service, at St. James's +Church, previously to their entering the courts. Who could look down +upon that assemblage, and see those grave men, with their white wigs +crowned with black patches, their scarlet robes, lined with ermine, +preceded by the sheriff's officers, and all the municipal servants of +that ancient borough, with their gilt chains, silver maces, and ample +robes, and not think of the purpose for which they were assembled! + +The best preparation for the scenes met with in a court of justice, is +the house of prayer; though even here there is a strange contrast +between the peace and quietness of the church, and the bustle, broil, +and turmoil usually attendant on the administration of criminal justice. + +At twelve o'clock, on the day of trial, August 9th, 1797, the Lord Chief +Baron Macdonald took his seat upon the bench, in the criminal court. Mr. +Justice Heath presided in the Nisi Prius. On the right hand of the Lord +Chief Baron sat the High Sheriff, Chalonor Archdeckne, Esq., of +Glevering Hall, with his chaplain, and a full bench of county and +borough magistrates. After the proclamation had been read, the +respective lists of the grand jury for the county and the liberty were +then called over, as follows:-- + + FOR THE COUNTY + + Lord Viscount Brome. + + Sir John Blois, Bart. + + Philip Bowes Broke, Esq. + + Charles Berners, jun., Esq. + + George Golding, Esq. + + William Middleton, Esq. + + Eleazar Davy, Esq. + + John Frere, Esq. + + Matthias Kerrison, Esq. + + Wolfran Lewis, Esq. + + John Sheppard, Esq. + + Francis Broke, Esq. + + Mileson Edgar, Esq. + + Robert Trotman, Esq. + + John Bleadon, Esq. + + John Cobbold, Esq. + + Thomas Green, Esq. + + Joseph Burch Smith, Esq. + + Thomas Shaw, Esq. + + John Vernon, Esq. + + James Reeve, Esq. + + James Stutter, Esq. + + FOR THE LIBERTY + + Sir Charles Bunbury, Bart. + + Sir Charles Davers, Bart. + + Sir Thomas Cullum, Bart. + + Sir Harry Parker, Bart. + + Sir William Rowley, Bart. + + Nathaniel Lee Acton, Esq. + + Capel Lofft, Esq. + + Samuel Brice, Esq. + + William Parker, Esq. + + Richard Moore, Esq. + + Robert Walpole, Esq. + + James Oakes, Esq. + + Matthias Wright, Esq. + + Abraham Reeve, Esq. + + John Oliver, Esq. + + John Pytches, Esq. + + Thomas Cocksedge, Esq. + + John Cooke, Esq. + + George Jackson, Esq. + + William Kemp Jardine, Esq. + +After the names had been respectively answered, the Lord Chief Baron +addressed the grand jury, in a most powerful and impressive speech, in +which he pointed out to their attention the extraordinary case then +about to come on for trial. The grand jury retired. The prisoners were +led into the cages, under the body of the court, where the people sat. +They could hear all the proceedings, and could see, through an iron +grating, all the witnesses in attendance. After the petty jury had been +sworn, and had appointed John Bloomfield, auctioneer and farmer, their +foreman, they took their seats, and various true bills were handed into +court against the prisoners, whose trials then came on. After an hour or +two, a paper was handed from the grand jury box, to the clerk of +arraigns; it was announced as "a true bill against Margaret Catchpole, +for horse-stealing." She presently after heard herself summoned by name; +and with trembling hand and foot, ascended the steps of the dock, and +stood before the bar. The court was crowded to excess, and upon the +bench sat more ladies than gentlemen. The judge cast a severe glance at +the prisoner, evidently expecting to find a bold, athletic female, of a +coarse and masculine appearance. Margaret was dressed in a plain blue +cotton gown, and appeared deeply dejected. She seemed to be inwardly +engaged in prayer. Once she looked round the court, to see if she could +discover the person of her lover, or the instigator to the crime for +which she was arraigned. Her eye rested only upon her aged father and +her affectionate brother Edward, who stood beneath her, close to the +bar. The workings of nature were too powerful to be resisted, and tears +rolled down the old man's cheeks, as he gave his hand to his daughter. +She kissed it, and let fall upon it the hot drops of agony. + +"Prisoner at the bar, you stand committed upon your own confession, +before two of his majesty's justices of the peace for the county of +Middlesex, of having, on the night of the 23rd of May last past, stolen +from the stable of your late master, John Cobbold, Esq., of St. +Margaret's Green, Ipswich, a strawberry roan-grey coach gelding, and of +having rode the same from Ipswich to London that night; and being in the +act of selling the horse next day following, when you were taken into +custody. For this offence you now stand before the court. How say you, +prisoner at the bar, are you guilty, or not guilty?" + +Margaret looked at her judge, and in a firm though low voice said, +"Guilty, my lord." + +"Prisoner at the bar," resumed the judge, "though you have made this +confession, you are at liberty to retract it, and to plead, 'Not +Guilty,' if you please, and so to take your trial. Your plea of 'Guilty' +will avail you nothing in the sentence which must follow. Consider then +your answer." + +Margaret replied, "I am not able now, my lord, to plead 'Not Guilty.'" + +"Why not?" said the judge. + +"Because I know that I am 'Guilty.'" + +This was too sound an argument to be disputed; and the judge did not +attempt any further explanation. + +Margaret's appearance was not remarkable for beauty, nor was it by any +means unpleasing. Her figure was not masculine. She was tall, and rather +slender. She had a dark eye, dark hair, and a countenance pale from +emotion. + +The judge then addressed her in the following words:--"Prisoner at the +bar, it is my painful duty to address one of your sex in such a +situation. I cannot possibly judge of your motives for committing such a +crime. They do not appear in your confession, and I am at a loss to +conceive what can have induced you to commit it. The sentence to which +you have subjected yourself is death. Have you anything to say why this +sentence of the law should not be passed upon you? Have you any friends +in court to speak to your character?" + +There was evidently a stir in the body of the court, and several persons +were seen crowding forward to the witness-box, and all ready to enter +it. At this juncture the prisoner expressed a wish to know if she might +speak a few words to the judge. + +"Prisoner at the bar," said the Chief Baron, "I am quite ready to hear +what you have to say." + +There was now a hushed and breathless silence in the court, and the +prisoner spoke calmly, clearly, and audibly, in the following words:-- + +"My lord, I am not going to say anything in defence of my conduct, or to +make any excuse whatever for my crimes. I told your lordship that I was +guilty, and guilty I feel that I am. It is not for my own sake, either, +that I am speaking, but that all in this court may take warning from my +bad example. A kinder master and mistress no servant ever had, nor had +ever master or mistress a more ungrateful servant. I have long since +condemned myself, and more severely than your lordship can do it. I know +my crime, and I know its punishment. I feel that, even if the law +acquitted me, my own conscience would still condemn me. But your +lordship may proceed to pass sentence upon my body. I have already felt +assurance of some peace and mercy where I alone could look for it, and +thanks be to God I have not sought it in vain. It has prepared me for +this moment. My master and mistress have forgiven me. Oh! that all +against whom I have offended by my bad example could here do the same! I +do not ask forgiveness of the law, because I have no right to do so. I +have offended, and am subject to the penalty of death. If your lordship +should even change my sentence, and send me out of the country for life, +I should rather choose death, at this time, than banishment from my +father and my friends. Temptation would no longer assail me, and I shall +hope to see them, and all whom I now see before me, in a better world. I +hope your lordship will forgive my words, though you must condemn me for +my actions." + +To attempt a description of the effect of these few words upon the court +would be impossible. The ladies hoped that mercy would be extended to +her. The judge looked at her with mingled astonishment and pity. + +"Are there any persons present," said the judge, "who are ready to speak +to the previous character of the prisoner?" Whereupon the prosecutor, +her master, immediately ascended the witness-box. He stated that the +prisoner had, during the time she lived in his service, always +discharged her duty faithfully. He had reason to believe that she was +neither a hardened nor an abandoned character. He knew from experience +that she was most humane and faithful, and ready to risk her own life in +the service of another. He here mentioned her presence of mind, and the +intrepidity she had so signally displayed in saving the lives of his +children. He stated, moreover, that, for his own part, he never should +have prosecuted the prisoner but that the magistrates in London had +bound him over so to do, and a sense of duty compelled him to adopt this +course. He should always entertain, under all circumstances, a grateful +recollection of her. He particularly recommended her to mercy, because +he did not believe that she had committed the crime in question in +conjunction with any gang of horse-stealers, but that she was the dupe +of an infamous villain, who had persuaded her to steal the horse for +him, and for no pecuniary benefit to herself. He believed her to be a +proper object for royal clemency, and hoped that if his lordship could +find any mitigating circumstances in her favour, that he would give her +the full benefit of them. + +George Stebbing, Esq., surgeon, Ipswich, stated that he had known the +prisoner from her childhood; that in her earliest years she gave promise +of such good character and conduct as would have merited the approbation +of all men. He mentioned her riding the pony to Ipswich. + +Margaret put her head down upon the bar, and, hiding her face in her +hands, sobbed audibly before the whole court. + +The doctor stated that, if she was at that moment at liberty, he would +take her into his own house. He assured his lordship that it was a +romantic hope of seeing her lover, that induced her to listen to the +voice of the tempter who induced her to steal the horse. He prayed for +mercy for her, and handed a petition to the court, signed by many +persons who knew her early history, and bore testimony to her former +good character. + +Her uncle and aunt Leader next spoke in the highest terms of her general +good character. Her first mistress at the Priory Farm gave her also an +excellent character for honesty and humanity, and assured his lordship +that it was an early but unfortunate attachment which had been the cause +of this rash act; adding, that neither she nor her husband would object +to take the prisoner again into their service. + +Several other persons spoke in her favour, and so cordial and so earnest +had been the testimony borne to her character, that in almost every +breast a hope began to prevail that mercy would be extended to her. + +The judge took an unusually long time for deliberation. He was in +conversation with the high sheriff, but what passed between them did not +transpire. The longer he delayed his judgement, the stronger grew the +hopes of mercy. At last, turning round to the body of the court, he +looked for one most awful moment steadfastly at the prisoner; and, when +every eye was riveted upon him, he was seen to take the black cap from +beneath his desk, and to place it upon his head. That dreadful +forerunner of impending condemnation struck forcibly upon the hearts of +all the people assembled. Some ladies fainted, and were carried out of +court. The most perfect stillness ensued, as the Lord Chief Baron +addressed the unhappy creature in the following words:-- + +"Prisoner at the bar, I have paid attention to your address to me, and +to those around you, and am glad to find that you have made a proper use +of the time which has intervened between your committal to prison and +the present moment. Your words show that you are by no means ignorant of +your duty as a member of society, and that you are possessed of strong +sense and much good feeling. I earnestly wish that your conduct had not +been such as to belie that good sense which you possess. It is, however, +the more inexcusable in one who, at the time she was committing an +offence, must have known its heinousness. Your sin, prisoner at the bar, +has found you out quickly, and judgement as speedily follows. I will not +aggravate those feelings of remorse which I am sure you experience, by +any longer dwelling upon the painful situation in which your crimes have +placed you. I trust your own persuasive words will be long remembered by +every one present, and be a warning to all how they suffer themselves to +be betrayed into crime. May your early fate warn them in time to keep +themselves in the path of rectitude and honesty. + +"I must say that, in the whole course of my judicial career, I have +never met with a person who so well knew right from wrong, and who so +extraordinarily perverted that gift. I must say, likewise, that I have +never met with any one who has received so good a former character at +such a moment as the present. The representations that have been made of +your past conduct shall be forwarded to the king, with whom alone the +prerogative of mercy in your case exists. + +"It would be cruelty, however, in me did I not candidly tell you, that +the crime for which you are now to suffer is one of such frequent, bold, +and in this day, daring commission, as to defy the authority of the law; +so that persons detected and brought to judgement, as you are, stand but +little chance of mercy. It is not in my power to give you any hope of +escaping the full punishment of the law, but I will represent your case +this very night, before I sleep, to the proper quarter whence any +alteration in your behalf can alone be obtained. + +"I need scarcely tell you not to rely upon any false hopes which friends +may hold out to you, who would grieve the more could they see the +danger and distress which they thereby occasion. Let me rather entreat +you to continue that attention to the interest of your soul which has +already been well instructed and fortified against the present crisis. +You have to prepare, prisoner at the bar, for a greater trial, a more +awful moment; and I hope you will make good use of the short time which +remains in preparation for eternity. You appear to have been well +assisted hitherto, and the good instruction seems to have fallen upon +productive ground. I hope the increase will continue to the day of your +death. + +"It only remains for me to fulfil my duty, by passing the sentence of +the court upon you, which is-- + +"That you be taken from the place where you now stand, back to the place +whence you came, and thence to the place of execution, and there be +hanged by the neck until you be dead; and may God have mercy upon your +soul!" + +At these last words tears of agony overwhelmed many in the court; but +Margaret herself seemed to be less overcome by the sentence than by the +kind words of the judge. + +She respectfully curtsied to him and the court, and, in the act of +retiring, fell into her father's arms. She was conveyed back to the gaol +in a swoon. + +In the meantime every exertion was made to represent her case favourably +to the judge. A petition was signed by many of the grand jury, as well +as the petty jury, in her behalf, and strong hopes were entertained of a +reprieve. + +These things were not mentioned to the prisoner, who returned to the +cell of condemned felons, to employ her time in "seeking that peace +which the world cannot give." + +A keeper constantly attended her, and a female sat up with her all that +night. She requested to have a Bible, and pen, ink, and paper: these +were granted her. She did not sleep, but read the Sacred Book, sometimes +aloud, sometimes to herself. She also seemed to find great relief in +writing to her friends. One letter which she wrote to her uncle, and +another to her mistress, on that very night, will best evince the state +of her mind and feelings. + + "MY DEAR UNCLE, + + "This will reach you to-morrow before you leave Bury. Give my love + and best thanks to my aunt and friends who spoke this day in behalf + of your unhappy niece; but, when you arrive at Ipswich, be sure and + call and thank that dear old gentleman, Doctor Stebbing. I know he + feels very much for me, but tell him not to distress himself, as if + I were to be lost for ever. Tell him I hope to see him in a better + world. He has been very kind to me in those days when I was most + forlorn, and my Saviour, who then guided me to him, will give him + his reward. For He says, that a cup of cold water given to one of + His most poor and wretched children, shall not be forgotten. + + "Dear uncle, show this letter to the gentleman in whose hands you + have placed the money which I gave you for such purpose, and tell + him that I wish it to be restored to William Laud, its rightful + owner, if he can be found, and will receive it again. If he is not + found, after my death, within the space of one year, I wish it to + be divided into four equal portions: one for my father, one for my + brother Edward, one for yourself, and one for my aunt. + + "Do not mourn for me, dear uncle, for I sincerely believe in God's + forgiveness of my past sins, through the merits of Jesus Christ, my + Saviour. My prayer to God is, 'Increase my faith, O Lord! and + pardon me, as thou didst the malefactor upon the cross;' for I + feel, dear uncle, as if I was justly in that thief's condemnation. + I hope soon, very soon, to be in a better state, and in a happier + world. I wish you and my aunt to come to Ipswich and see me once + more before I suffer. Tell my aunt I wish her to purchase something + decent for my funeral. She will find some money in the corner of + my box, under the linen. Oh! how little did he, who gave me that + money, and who so worthily esteemed me, how little did he think + that any portion of it would be devoted to such a purpose! My dear + uncle, go and comfort my poor father, and my good young brother: I + will write to them before another day is past. I wish my bones to + lie beside my mother's and sister's, in Nacton churchyard. I am + told that on Saturday week I shall probably suffer death. God grant + I may then be prepared! + + "We shall all return to Ipswich as soon as the nine prisoners, whom + Mr. Ripshaw brought to Bury, shall have been tried. Pray for me, + dear uncle! Warn the dear children by my fate. I should like to see + them myself. I wish I could impress upon their young minds the + dreadful feelings of guilt which I have endured, and so prevent + their commission of any crime. I am going to write now to my dear + mistress, and, as you return to-morrow, you must take that letter + and deliver it. God bless you, dear uncle! God's peace be with you! + So no more from your poor affectionate niece, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "Bury Gaol, August 9th, 1797. + "To MR. LEADER, Six Bells Inn, Bury." + + "To MRS. COBBOLD. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "My trial is over, and I dare say my dear master has already told + you the fate of your unhappy servant. He cannot, however, tell you + what I can, and what will better please your good heart than the + account of my trial, namely, that I am not so disconsolate as many + persons may think I am. No; God be praised, and thanks to those + dear friends who visited me in the Ipswich gaol; and chiefly thanks + to you, among them, my dear lady; my heart is consoled with the + prospect of soon seeing better things than this wicked world can + show me. Oh! my dear lady, I hope to see you among those bright + shining spirits who live for ever in harmony and love. Oh! how + happy shall we then be, free from fear of pain or grief! I have + just been reading that beautiful passage, where it is written, 'God + shall wipe all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more + death, neither sorrow nor crying; neither shall there be any more + pain.' Oh! what a different world must that be to this; and what + should make us grieve to leave this world? It is only the fear of + future wrath that can prevent our joyfully looking up to heaven + through the valley of death. And, dearest lady, if such a wretched + being as I am can hope in that Saviour who died for me and all the + world, surely, you, dear lady, must have a bright, a pleasant + prospect, before you. Heaven bless you, for all your goodness to me + in the days of my prosperity, but more for your Christian charity + in the day of my adversity! The judge, who really, I think, + reminded me of you, told me I had been well instructed; I wish he + knew you, dear madam, and he would then be assured of it. Thank my + kind master for his goodness to his unworthy servant. I had no hope + of mercy from the first, and the judge told me not to trust in any + such idea in this world. He spoke much less severely than I + expected; but I was prepared for his condemnation, and I am now + preparing my mind for the day of execution. I find great comfort in + the Scriptures, because I have no secret pangs of unconfessed + guilt, or any wish in my heart to cover or palliate my offences. My + trial is over, and the same God who sustained me through it, will, + I hope, preserve my spirit faithful to the last. Every moment seems + valuable to me, dear lady, now that I know them to be so soon + numbered; and I scarcely like to lose one even in sleep. Nature, + however, is weary with fatigue and anxiety, though my spirit seems + so wakeful. If I go to sleep, it will be in prayer for you and all + my friends. That God may bless you and all your dear family, is + the heartfelt desire of your unfortunate, though ever grateful + servant, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "BURY GAOL, August 9th, 1797. + + "P.S.--My good uncle Leader will bring this, of whom you can ask + any particulars, as he was in court during my trial." + +On the 11th of August, a letter arrived from the Home Office, in London, +giving full powers to the judge to exercise the prerogative of mercy in +her case, as he might see fit. The judge was not in court at the time, +but in his own rooms. He sent immediately for the sheriff and the +prosecutor, Mr. Cobbold, and explained to them the purport of the letter +he had received. He thought, however, that some punishment should mark +the sense of crime. He therefore commuted the sentence of death for the +shortest period of transportation for seven years; and he signed the +necessary document for such purpose. He intimated that that period might +be shortened by the good conduct of the prisoner in gaol; for as there +was great difficulty now in sending prisoners to the new settlement, her +portion of confinement would most likely be spent in the Ipswich Gaol. +The judge added, that the woman appeared to be a most sensible creature; +and he made many most minute inquiries concerning her education and +habits. He said that she had conducted herself during her trial in a +very becoming manner, and he hoped that her punishment would end with +half the term of confinement. This would depend upon the representations +of the visiting magistrates. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE REPRIEVE AND REMOVAL + + +The feelings of Margaret Catchpole under the new circumstances which now +awaited her, will be best explained by a letter written by her to Mrs. +Cobbold immediately after the communication of the happy tidings, and +her consequent removal to Ipswich Gaol. + + "IPSWICH GAOL, Sunday Evening, August 13th, 1797. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "You have heard of your poor servant's reprieve. I had no time to + write you word yesterday, because of the bustle of our return, and + the general congratulations of the prisoners. Mr. Ripshaw has + permitted me to have pen, ink, and paper, this evening, and I + hasten to write my heart. Good Mr. Sharp has been warning me + against too great exultation in my change, and very kindly says to + me in words of truth: 'Sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon + thee.' This was his subject in the chapel to-day. I certainly do, + even now, feel very different to what I did when I wrote to you + last, dear lady, from Bury. I had then made up my mind to die, and + hoped to live for ever. I now make up my mind to live; but I hope + not to die for ever. No, dear lady; if I thought that life being + granted to me now was only to make my future dangers greater, I + should grieve that I did not rather suffer before this time. + + "Life is sweet and to be desired, whilst the hope of becoming good, + and doing good in our time, exists. God grant that such hope may be + realized in my life! Oh! my dear lady, if by living I could only + imitate you more nearly, I should then be full of hope. I feel, + however, that temptation will assail me, when I leave this place + and enter again into the world. Here I am well taught and well + guarded against many temptations. I have many dear friends too, who + take such an interest in me, that I am afraid of being vain, though + God has shown me I have indeed nothing to be vain of, except it be + of such as you, dear lady, who take notice of such a creature as + myself. + + "Oh! what a happy Sabbath-day has this been to me! I am so thankful + that my heart can sing psalms all the day long. I am very grateful + for this paper and pen, that I may be able to speak to you, my dear + madam, in this way. You taught me to read and write, and these are + my great recreations. Pray lend me some good books to read, and if + you would let me see some of your own dear writing, it would be a + great blessing to me. + + "I have now seven years' confinement to look forward to. Oh! that I + may greatly improve my time! Beneath your help, what may I not gain + in my prison! It may be some weeks before I see your dear, loved + face, as I hear that you are very near increasing your family. I + would not have you come into this place at such a time on any + account. But, as I am so near you, a word or a message, just to let + me know that you, my master, and family are well, would lighten my + burden. + + "Mr. Ripshaw has promised that I shall have plenty of employment. + Work of any sort, you know, dear lady, is always agreeable to me. + To be doing nothing is death to me. He tells me, moreover, that if + I conduct myself well, he will not fail to represent my case to the + magistrates for a shortening of the period of my captivity. I + received some hint of this from the chaplains at Bury. You may be + sure, dear lady, that I will do all I can to serve Mr. Ripshaw, and + to merit the recommendation of the magistrates. I hope your dear + children are well. I never was so happy as when nursing Master + Roland; I hope I shall see him soon again. + + "Pray, dear madam, give my duty to my master, and to the young + ladies and gentlemen; and accept the same from your ever grateful + servant, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE." + +Margaret was true to her good intentions. She became very industrious +and trustworthy in the service of Mrs. Ripshaw, the governor's wife; and +made herself useful in every possible way to her new mistress. In fact, +she became an invaluable person in the gaol. She exercised a moral +influence over those of her own sex who were inmates of the prison, such +as no matron could hope to attain. + +Her father and brother often came to see her, and occasionally they +brought her a luxury which reminded her of the days of liberty--"a +harvest cake." + +The reader will not be surprised to learn that Margaret still, +sometimes, asked after Will Laud. Her brother could give her but an +indifferent account of what he heard of him; one question, however, of +most vital import to the still lingering hopes of poor Margaret, +namely--"Is he single still?" he could answer in the affirmative. As a +set-off against this, she learned that he was still deeply engaged in +smuggling transactions. + +In the winter of 1797, Margaret lost her father, who was taken off by a +bad fever, which at that time raged fiercely in the neighbourhood. + +The following letter to her brother Edward speaks her feelings on this +event:-- + + "IPSWICH GAOL, December 21st, 1797. + + "DEAR EDWARD, + + "My sins appear to me doubly great, because they have prevented my + fulfilling my duties to my dear father in his illness. They oppress + me, because, but for them, I should have found such comfort in + being able to wait upon him. Oh that I had wings to fly from this + place to Nacton! if only for once to be present at the last duties + we can any of us pay to those whom we love. But I cannot come, so I + send you this letter. My tears fall upon it, whilst I write it. He + was such a dear good old man to us all. Can I ever forget him? + Never! You and he both stood near me upon my trial. + + "Ah! Edward, I do think my ill-conduct has killed him. He was + always so fond of me, that I think he has never recovered the shock + of that day. Yet he seemed well, and rejoiced to see me, with the + hope of happier and brighter times. But he is gone, and all our + grief, dear brother, will be useless. If we continue to walk in the + right path, we shall meet him hereafter. We shall go to him; he + cannot come to us. Yet, I wish I could join you in the churchyard; + but I may not leave the prison for one moment. It is an indulgence + no prisoner is allowed. Mr. Ripshaw has promised me that I shall + have the afternoon of to-morrow to myself, which I shall employ in + reading, and thinking about the burial service. + + "Dear old man! he promised to spend Christmas-day with me in my + cell. He is in a happier place, where joy and peace will make every + day his Christmas. I shall think of you to-morrow at two o'clock. + Do you remember, Edward, the evening of our mother's funeral? Do + you remember the stranger's visit, and that stranger our brother + Charles? This melancholy time reminds me of him. You will have a + dreary home now. Oh that I had power to make it happier! + + "I am glad the Cracknells are still near you, and that they are + kind to you; though their misfortunes and mine have kept pace with + each other. Never mind, Edward, what cruel people say to you about + their prophecies concerning my downfall. They only tell you these + things to aggravate you. The time may come when they will + impudently say, they prophesied my rise and progress in the world. + I hope better days are coming. + + "You must come and see me as soon as you can; for I feel at this + time very low and sorrowful. So my dear brother, do come and see + me, when you are able to spare the time. Pray for me, and I will + not cease to do so for you. My dear mistress has promised to send + this by an especial messenger. How kind of her to think of one so + unworthy as your affectionate sister, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE." + +In the spring of 1798, Edward Catchpole, finding the notoriety his +sister had obtained occasioned him much annoyance, left the +neighbourhood of Ipswich, and went into Cambridgeshire, where he +obtained a situation as shepherd, and was always a respectable +character. Poor Margaret felt this loss keenly, though a letter from him +now and then cheered her spirits.[10] + +Her kind friends in Ipswich made her many little presents, which she +treasured up against the time she should go out. She hoped it might be +in three years. Inquiries were frequently made concerning her conduct, +which was uniformly orderly and good. She was the most useful person +that Mrs. Ripshaw ever had in the prison. + +Margaret never made use of one single shilling of that money which Laud +had thrown down for her. She always thought that the time would come +when it might be claimed; and looked upon it as a sort of confidential +deposit, for which she was answerable. No individual could have acted +with more scrupulous and faithful regard. + +Time swept on, and Margaret had spent two years of good conduct in the +Ipswich gaol. The magistrates had told Mr. Ripshaw they should recommend +her at the Midsummer assizes, when she was mentioned in high terms to +the Lord Chief Baron. But the crime of horse-stealing still continued, +day by day, to be a growing evil; and, as if Margaret was made to feel +the consequence of others' crimes, no mitigation of her sentence was yet +granted. It had been injudiciously told her by some friend, who, no +doubt, meant it kindly, that an application had been made to the judge +for the shortening of the period of her imprisonment. This made her feel +very anxious; and it proved a great disappointment to her when she found +that the interest made in her behalf was ineffectual. Her mind was +unhinged, and her spirit grew restless, anxious, and oppressed. Her +mistress observed these symptoms with concern, and dreaded a return of +that irritability which had formerly rendered her so miserable. + +But where was William Laud? At his old trade. He was deeply concerned in +that affair at Dunwich, where William Woodward and Benjamin Lawsey, two +boatmen belonging to his majesty's Customs at Southwold, were beaten and +thrown into the sea; and the government offered one hundred pounds +reward for the apprehension of any one of the offenders. Forty empty +carts were seen by these two men, standing ready for a run, with horses +and men in a lane at Dunwich. The reward was offered in the county +newspapers of the date of March 2nd, 1799. + +Such a system of open fraud was carried on along the whole coast of +Norfolk and Suffolk about this time, that the revenue of the kingdom +began to suffer severely in the customs. In the month of March of the +second year of her imprisonment, Mr. Gooch, officer of excise at +Lowestoft, and Mr. Burdell, of Aldborough, seized 880 gallons of gin, +belonging to Will Laud and his company; and the evidence brought the +affair so clearly home to him that he was taken up and sentenced to be +imprisoned one year in the Ipswich gaol, and to pay a fine of one +hundred pounds to the king. His property was seized and confiscated; +smuggled goods were found upon his premises, and he became a penniless +bankrupt, and an inmate of that very prison where the devoted Margaret +was suffering on his account. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 10: All traces of Edward Catchpole having been lost, the +author is obliged to Henry T. Bourne, Esq., of Alford, in Lincolnshire, +for making known to him, since the publication of the work, the +circumstances which are here briefly narrated. + +Edward Catchpole went into Lincolnshire, and resided some time at +Sutton-in-the-Marsh. He was always fond of the sea, and for some years +became mate of the _Argus_ revenue cutter. In this vessel, he was +present at the rescue of an English coal brig, from the _Star_, French +privateer; and having put men on board the brig, sufficient to carry her +into port, he pursued the privateer, brought her to close quarters, and +having only twenty-seven men on board the cutter, he was overpowered, +and at ten o'clock at night compelled to surrender, as the privateer had +eighty-six men against him. + +This was on the 18th September, 1807. He was made prisoner, and having +spent seven years in confinement, he made his escape, and reached home +in safety. + +He was afterwards appointed chief officer of the coastguard, at +Sutton-in-the-Marsh, in the county of Lincoln. Though a very brave man, +and a steady officer, he did not appear to have any very serious notions +of religion, until he was compelled by a serious wound to keep at home. +It was the blessing of God to him, and others, that this accident +happened to him, for his mind appears to have been awakened to a deep +sense of his past sins, and his soul very much aroused to inquiry, by +the kindness of an excellent neighbour, who dressed his wounds for him, +and did her best endeavours to pour in consolation upon his broken +heart. + +He became sensible of his need of a Saviour; and never after forsook the +help he found in his necessity, but became useful and exemplary, and +even the means, by the blessing of God, of saving others of his comrades +and companions. He died on the 17th of December, 1836, after affording +to all around him, a Christian example of patience under suffering +affliction. + +He was interred in the churchyard at Sutton, and a stone at the head of +his grave contains the following inscription:-- + + IN MEMORY OF + EDWARD CATCHPOLE, + A NATIVE OF IPSWICH, + IN THE COUNTY OF SUFFOLK, + AND LATE CHIEF OFFICER OF THE + COASTGUARD + STATIONED AT THIS PLACE, + WHO DIED DECEMBER THE 17TH, 1836, + AGED 58 YEARS. + +_Sutton-in-the-Marsh_, Jan. 1847.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE ESCAPE + + +Margaret had not heard of the capture of Laud; and he, even in his then +degraded condition, looked upon it as a thing not to be desired that she +should hear of. She had been engaged in washing for Mrs. Ripshaw. At +that time the large linen-horses belonging to the gaol stood in the +passage between the debtors' and felons' yards. Margaret had occasion to +remove those horses into the drying-ground. For this purpose she had to +pass through the governor's apartment into the thoroughfare between +these two yards. A strong palisade of oak, with sharp tenter-hooks on +their tops, stood on each side of this stone passage, leading from the +turnkey's lodge to the governor's rooms at the centre of the prison. As +Margaret was in the act of removing one of these horses, she saw a +sailor standing by the wall on the debtors' side. A sailor in prison +would interest her at any time; but this sailor looked so very like Will +Laud that she stood still with astonishment. He evidently saw her, and +as he approached toward the place where she stood, her heart was +convulsively beating, and a tremor came over her limbs. He came nearer: +it was Laud. She saw him again after the lapse of years; him whom her +earliest and warmest feelings had acknowledged as her lover. She had +never in her heart deserted him for an hour; yet he had hardly ever been +constant to anything. He approached, however, and Margaret, pretending +to be engaged in removing the linen-horses, felt her hands and feet +tremble exceedingly. She heard the well-known voice, which sounded like +music in her ears, say, "Margaret, is that you? How are you, Peggy?" She +tried all she could to summon courage to speak, but her heart was so +full, her breast heaved so rapidly, that she could not utter a word; +tears stood in her eyes, and she tried to smile through them; but, in +the act of lifting one of those great horses off the pegs, her hands and +knees could not support the weight, but down fell the horse upon her, +and cast her, with considerable force and clatter upon the stone-flag +pavement. + +The noise of the fall brought out the governor and the turnkey at the +same moment, who, both concluding that the weight had overpowered her, +ran to her assistance, whilst the sailor, well knowing he could be of no +use, walked quietly away. No one in the gaol knew that he was Margaret's +lover. She was carried into the governor's house. The turnkey said he +had often removed the horses, considering they were too heavy for a +female to lift, though they were frequently carried by them. Margaret +told Mr. Ripshaw that the over-exertion had for a moment produced a +dizziness in her head, and a sudden faintness came upon her before she +fell. She dreaded, however, lest any one should imagine the real cause +of her accident. Her friend, the surgeon of the gaol, Mr. George +Stebbing, was sent for; and when he saw her he bled her, considering +that she had received some internal injury. It was a good thing he did +so, for it reduced her to such real weakness as confined her some days +to her bed, and afforded time for reflection. + +Mrs. Ripshaw had promised Mrs. Cobbold, that if Margaret should be ill +at any time she would let her know it, and she now fulfilled that +promise. She sent her a note to tell her how the accident occurred, and +how she was. Mrs. Cobbold came immediately, and found her in an +unaccountable state of agitation. She at once asked Margaret if +anything particular had occurred, but she elicited nothing satisfactory. + +No one in the gaol except Margaret knew Will Laud, and no one took any +particular notice of him but her. A letter, which was afterwards found +upon his person, shows how truly that poor girl had loved so unworthy a +man. Opportunities of occasional words were at different times offered +and seized upon by them, though these were few and far between. By +these, however, Margaret learned that he was a ruined man, sentenced to +a year's imprisonment, and to pay a fine of one hundred pounds to the +king; that in all probability his confinement might be for years, as +everything he possessed had been confiscated; his boats, ships, and +stock, had been seized; and yet imprisonment was to continue till the +penalty was paid. + +The letter which Margaret wrote to him about this period, and contrived +to give into his hands, showed how deeply she entered into his past as +well as present feelings, and is a noble specimen of her devoted +affection:-- + + "FELONS' CELL, Jan. 10th, 1800. + + "DEAR WILLIAM, + + "You may guess my surprise to hear you say that John Cook knew + nothing about you; that he invented a lie to get me to steal the + horse. This accords, however, with my beloved mistress's opinion. + Oh! how glad I am that I did not let out the secret that I had + money of yours in hand! I should have lost everything if I had. He, + a villain, induced me to go to London with the hope of seeing you + at the Dog and Bone, Lambeth. He told me that you were hiding from + the fear of arrest, and had confided to him your place of safety. + He even showed me a letter purporting to come from you. Oh! what an + artful villain!--what punishment he deserves! + + "But, dear William, make yourself easy about the fine. I will send + for my uncle Leader before the time of your imprisonment expires, + and the hundred and thirty guineas shall be given up to you. He + shall pay the fine for you, and shall give you the remainder. You + will own now that I am trustworthy. Oh! how happy I am that I did + not make away with it, nor suffer others to do so! I kept it for + you, and it comes into use at the moment it is most wanted. Nobody + need know how it is disposed of; only remember your poor Margaret, + that she longs for the shortening of her confinement, that she may + join herself with your fortunes wherever they may be. + + "You will soon regain your liberty. I may have to complete my seven + years here. But will you be faithful and wait for me? You promise + fairly. You say you will live at Sudbourn, and try to get an honest + living. Every hour of the day I am thinking about you; and at night + I dream sometimes that I am sailing upon the ocean with you; + sometimes that I am living with my father and brother. But dreams + are deceitful. I hope you will never prove such to me again. I am + willing to join my fate to yours whenever I obtain my release. Pray + God that may be soon. Oh! that it could come on the day of your own + release! but come or not then, believe me ever + + "Your affectionate + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE." + +Not long after the date of this letter, application was made to the +Secretary of State for her pardon; but, unfortunately for her, the same +causes which had operated against her before still prevailed. The crime +of horse-stealing was at this date at its highest pitch, and depredators +of this kind became so bold, that it was thought necessary to give a +positive denial to the application in Margaret's favour. The prospect of +her release, therefore, did not appear a bright one, and every month +seemed to make it less probable. + +The time for the departure of Laud out of prison now drew nigh, and +Margaret wrote to her uncle, requesting him to come and see her, which +he did; and she then gave him full powers to withdraw the 130 guineas +from Mr. Smith, and requested him to pay L100 into the hands of Mr. +Ripshaw on a certain day; namely, the 5th of March, the day previous to +Laud's term of imprisonment expiring. + +Mr. Leader was well assured that she would never draw the money, except +to restore it to Will Laud. He asked her the plain question. She gave +him an honest answer. She told him that Will was then in prison, and +that his liberty depended upon the punctuality of the payment. Her +honesty with her uncle saved her from detection, for, in all +probability, had not Mr. Leader had more prudence than she had, it might +have been suspected by the gaoler. He at once suggested that Mr. Smith, +who was not known to have any connexion with her, should be requested to +pay the fine to Mr. Ripshaw, in behalf of the prisoner. It struck +Margaret, the moment it was mentioned, and she felt surprised that the +hurry and anxiety of her own feelings should have so greatly blinded her +as to leave her destitute of common prudence in this matter. + +It was on the 3rd of March, in the year 1800, that Margaret was destined +to undergo the severest temptation she had ever yet experienced. She had +been employed in washing for the prisoners, and was engaged hanging out +the linen in the passage on one of the clothes-horses used for that +purpose, when she was accosted from the debtors' side in a well-known +voice, "Margaret! what a capital ladder one of those horses would make, +if set against the wall!" + +She turned round, and there stood Will Laud. Cautiously she looked along +the passage to see if any one was near. She pretended to be busily +engaged; at the same time she said,-- + +"Ah, William! I understand you. I wish I could make my escape with you, +and I would; but I fear the thing is too difficult." + +"You might manage it, Margaret, when the governor goes to Bury with the +prisoners." + +"How, William! How?" + +"You have the horse, and you have the linen line. Look around the wall, +and see if you cannot find a place of escape. You must be tired of your +captivity. I owe my liberty to you; and if I can once get you out of +this place, no power on earth shall separate us again." + +"But where should I go, William, if I got out?" + +"To my sister's at Sudbourn, Lucy Keeley. I will tell her to expect +you." + +"That would do. I will look round and see if it can be done. On the 19th +or 20th of this month, Mr. Ripshaw goes to Bury with the prisoners. On +Monday the 24th, and Tuesday the 25th, are our two great washing days. +It must be one of those nights. Will you be waiting for me at the end of +the lane, near St. Helen's Church?" + +"I will be waiting for you, never fear. I will have a sailor's jacket +and hat to disguise you in." + +"Well, the trial is worth the risk. I will confide in you once more, +Laud; but if you deceive me, then, indeed, I care not what becomes of +me. But I will trust you. Go!--There is some one coming." + +Laud departed, and Margaret busied herself with the linen. That day she +had many things given her to mend. She contrived also to get a candle, +under the pretence of working late. And such was the confidence which +was placed in her, and such the quantity of work she performed, that she +was trusted beyond any other prisoner in the house. + +Margaret knew nothing of the penalty the law would compel her to pay for +breaking out of prison. She knew nothing of the bond by which the gaoler +was bound, in case of the escape of any of his prisoners. She saw but +her lover and liberty, and did not suppose it any great offence, even if +she should be detected in the attempt. + +Her uncle Leader paid her a visit on the 5th, and gave her the thirty +guineas, telling her that the hundred guineas were lodged in the hands +of Mr. Ripshaw for the discharge of Will Laud. + +"I will give William this money myself," thought Margaret; but she +breathed not one word of her intended escape to her uncle; and the good +man left her with the conscious happiness, that let her term of +confinement be what it might, she had been instrumental in procuring the +release of her lover. + +It was a proud day for Margaret, that 6th of March, 1800. From the +felons' side she could see her lover depart out of gaol in company with +Mr. Ripshaw. She saw him go to the turnkey's lodge; and with a heart at +the same time bounding with the hope of liberty, she walked quietly +round the felons' yard, looking anxiously up at those long spikes to see +where the widest place could be found for her to get her body through. +That very hour she discovered a place where one of the spikes had been +broken off. She looked at it and sighed. She was very thoughtful about +it. It dwelt upon her mind night and day, till she had fully resolved to +make the attempt at that very spot. + +At night, and early in the morning, she was at work for herself. Out of +one sheet she contrived to make a smock-frock, such as shepherds wear +over their clothes. Out of the other she made a pair of sailor's +trousers. These she laid upon her bed in such an ingenious manner, that +no one going into her cell would discover any difference in the usual +make of it. + +Anxiously did she watch the hours for the departure of Mr. Ripshaw with +the prisoners for trial at Bury. In the very cell next to her own was a +felon to be taken away. The anxious time came, and Margaret saw the +governor and prisoners take their departure. + +Meantime, Laud, directly he left the gaol, went to his sister's house at +Sudbourn. He reached that place the same night. He told his sister who +it was that had paid the fine for him, and thus completely won her heart +for Margaret. His plan was fixed to get off with Margaret in a +smuggler's boat, and get a cast to Holland, where he intended to marry +and settle. He told his sister his plan, and she approved it, and +promised to receive Margaret. + +He was not long in ascertaining what boats were expected on the coast. +He had an interview with one David Shaw, the master of a cutter +belonging to Captain Merrells, and with him came to an understanding +that, some day after the 25th, when wind and weather should suit, he +should send a boat ashore for him. A red handkerchief tied round his hat +should be the signal that he was ready. He told him that he should be +accompanied by a friend, whom he wished to go over the water with him. +All these things were arranged, and, as far as they went, were in some +sense honourable. In the meantime he promised to assist in landing any +cargoes along the shore. And this part of the contract he performed. + +On the 19th of March, Mr. Ripshaw, with seven prisoners, departed for +Bury. The business of the assizes began on Thursday, the 20th, and did +not terminate until that day week, the 27th. On Monday and Tuesday the +wash took place. On these occasions the female convicts are all locked +up in one large room, from seven o'clock in the morning until seven in +the evening; their food being brought to them in the washing-room. At +seven in the evening they all go into the felons' yard for exercise and +air. They usually give their signal that the wash is finished by rapping +the door about seven o'clock. This evening, Tuesday, the 25th, Margaret +contrived by various means to prolong the wash till nearly eight +o'clock, and as she had some kind of acknowledged authority and +influence among her fellow-convicts, she insisted upon the signal not +being given till the work was completely finished; so that at eight +o'clock it was quite dark. They were let out of the room into the +felons' yard at that time for one half hour. Some were accustomed to +saunter about, or to have a game of romps. Some, when the season +admitted, would weed the flower-beds; for Mr. Ripshaw was a great fancy +florist, and used to raise the best ranunculuses, carnations, and +polyanthuses, of any person in the town. His garden adjoined the felons' +walk, and was only separated from it by a very low paling. Margaret had +continual access to the garden, and used to take considerable interest +in the culture of the plants. + +She was greatly disappointed to find that all the linen-horses stood on +the stone area, between the debtors' and felons' yards. She had hoped +that they would have been carried by the turnkey to the drying ground in +the garden, as usual, ready for the linen in the morning. Owing to some +cause or other, they were not there that night. + +This was a sad disappointment, for she had made up her mind to escape +that very night. Could she be suspected? Had anybody betrayed her? No, +it was impossible. As the turnkey passed the palings she cried out to +him, "You have not put out the horses for us to-night?" + +"No, Margaret," he replied, "we have all been too busy cleaning the +cells and yards; but they shall be put out the first thing in the +morning." + +The reply was both satisfactory and unsatisfactory. It convinced her she +was not suspected; but declared that she must expect no help from the +linen-horses. She was glad, however, to see that the lines were on the +posts for the coarse linen, and the crotches, or props, in their proper +places. + +She looked around for something to help her. The gaol wall was nearly +twenty-two feet high, and the _chevaux de frise_ three feet from the +point of one revolving spike to its extreme point. What could she get to +assist her? At one time she thought of pulling up a portion of the +paling for a ladder. She tried her strength at it, but it was too much +for her. She then turned her eye upon a large frame, which was used for +the flower-beds. It covered a long bed, and the awning usually placed +upon it to keep the sun off the flowers in the summer was not there. She +tried her strength at this, and lifted the legs upon which it stood +about a foot upwards. This she resolved to make her ladder. She looked +up at the narrow spot where the iron spike had been broken, and which +was close to the shoulder or prop of the _chevaux de frise_. Hope beamed +brightly upon her as she thought of her liberty. Margaret resolved to +make the attempt at midnight. At half-past eight the convicts all went +in to supper, and afterwards retired to their cells. But Margaret, the +moment she reached hers, contrived to slip out of it again, with the +things she had made for her disguise, into the adjoining one, which +stood open; and she crept under the bed of the felon who was gone to +Bury for trial. She had, as usual, closed her own door, and lay +anxiously waiting in her hiding place the turnkey's approach. She heard +him coming along, and asking the several prisoners, as he came, if they +were in their cells. They answered his summons, and then she heard them +locked up; and now came the challenge to her own door. + +"Margaret, are you there?" + +She put her lips to the wall of the cell where she was, and answered, +"Yes." It sounded exactly as if she was in bed in her own cell; and to +her great joy she heard the key turn in the iron lock, and the bolt +shoot into its place. She breathed for a moment freely, but the next +moment she experienced such a sudden revulsion as few could have borne +without detection. To her confusion and dismay, the turnkey entered the +very cell where she lay concealed under the bed. He walked up to the +iron-grated window, and, as usual, the casement stood open for the +benefit of air through the passage, and, in a soliloquizing manner, +said, "Ah! poor Sarah! you will never sleep upon this bed again!" + +In breathless agony did Margaret dread two things equally fatal to her +project. One was, that he should hear her breath in the stillness of the +night, and discover her; the other, that he should lock the door upon +her. She knew that it was not usual to lock the doors of those cells +which contained no prisoners, but she dreaded lest the same absence of +mind which made him saunter into Sarah Lloyd's cell should make him look +the door. What a state of suspense! How did her blood course through her +frame! she could hear her heart beat! She was presently relieved from +her suspense, for the turnkey, having completed his duty in locking up +all his prisoners, quietly departed out of the cell, and left the door, +as usual, standing wide open. Never was relief more opportune or welcome +than this to her overcharged heart. The clock struck the hours of nine, +ten, and eleven, and Margaret had not stirred. She now rose, took her +shoes in her hand, and her bundle under her arm; she then managed to tie +it up with an apron-string over her shoulders, and, with the slightest +tread, stole along the stone passage. A mouse would scarcely have been +disturbed by her as she descended the front of steps that led to the +felons' yard. + +To her great comfort she found the door unbolted; for the turnkey, +having locked every one up, saw no necessity for bolting the yard door. +Silently she opened it; it creaked so little, that the wind prevented +any sound reaching beyond the precincts of the door. She made her way to +the flower-stand in the governor's garden, lifted the frame out of the +ground and set it up endways directly under the broken spike. It reached +a little more than half way up the wall, being about thirteen feet long. +She then went and took the linen line off the posts, and made a running +noose at one end of it. She then took the longest clothes-prop she could +find, and passed the noose over the horn of it. She mounted the frame by +the help of the prop, and standing upon it she lifted the line up and +passed the noose over the shoulder of the _chevaux de frise_, then, +pulling it tight and close to the wall, it slipped down the iron and +became fixed. + +Now came the greatest difficulty she had ever overcome in her life. She +drew herself up by the line to the top of the wall, and laying her body +directly upon the roller where the spike was broken, with the help of +one hand grasping the shoulder of iron, she balanced herself until she +had pulled up all the line and let it fall down the other side of the +wall; then, taking hold of the rope with both hands, she bent her body +forward, and the whole body of spikes revolved, turning her literally +heels over head on the outer side of the gaol wall. Was there ever such +a desperate act performed by any woman before? Had not the fact been +proved beyond all doubt, the statement might be deemed incredible. But +Margaret Catchpole did exactly as here described; and after the +oscillation of her body was over from the jerk, she quietly let herself +down in perfect safety on the other side. + +Just as she alighted on the earth St. Clement's chimes played for twelve +o'clock. It was a gently sloping bank from the wall, and a dry fosse, +which she crossed, easily climbed over the low wooden palings against +the road, and made her way for the lane against St. Helen's church. +There she found Will Laud in readiness to receive her, which he did with +an ardour and devotion that told he was sincere. + +They fled to an empty cart-shed on the Woodbridge road. Here Laud kept +watch at the entrance whilst Margaret put on her sailor's dress. She +soon made her appearance on the road with her white trousers, hat, and +blue jacket, looking completely like a British tar. They did not wait to +be overtaken, but off they started for Woodbridge, and arrived at the +ferry just as the dawning streaks of daylight began to tinge the east. +Their intention was to cross the Sutton Walks and Hollesley Heath to +Sudbourn. Unluckily for them, however, who should they meet at the ferry +but old Robinson Crusoe, the fisherman, who, having been driven round +the point at Felixstowe, was compelled to come up the Deben to +Woodbridge for the sale of his fish. The old man gave them no sign of +recognition, but he knew them both, and, with a tact that few possessed, +saw how the wind blew. But without speaking to either of them, he +proceeded with his basket to the town. + +At this they both rejoiced, and as they took their journey across that +barren tract of land, it seemed to them like traversing a flowery mead. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +PURSUIT AND CAPTURE + + +The morning after Margaret's escape the turnkey was alarmed by the call +of the gardener, who came early to the prison to prune some trees in the +governor's garden. He told the turnkey there was a rope hanging down the +wall, as if some one had escaped during the night. They soon discovered +the frame against the wall; footmarks along the beds, and the linen +crotch, all told the same tale. The turnkey then ran to the men's cells, +and found them all bolted. He did the same to the women's, and found +them likewise fastened just as he left them the night before. He then +examined every window. Not a bar was moved. He did this without speaking +a word to any one. At the usual hour he called up the prisoners, and +marched them out of their cells. Margaret's was the last, at the end of +the passage. When he opened it, no one answered his summons. He walked +in; no one was there. The bed had not been slept in, and was without +sheets. He then made Mrs. Ripshaw acquainted with the facts. +Astonishment and alarm were depicted upon her countenance. Her husband's +absence made the circumstance the more distressing. + +Search was made in every part of the gaol, but no trace of Margaret +could be found. The women with whom she washed the day previously all +declared that they knew nothing of her escape. They declared that they +saw her go before them to the farther end of the passage to her own +cell. But how could she escape and lock the door? The turnkey was quite +sure he had secured her in her own cell, for that he went into the one +adjoining after he had, as he supposed, locked her up in hers. It came +out, however, in the course of inquiry, that he remembered her asking +him about the horses not being set out for the wash; and the women +declared that Margaret had been very peremptory about not giving the +signal before eight o'clock. These things seemed to indicate a design to +escape, and carried some suspicion of the fact. + +Mrs. Ripshaw, however, was not satisfied, but sent a swift messenger on +horseback to Bury St. Edmunds, with a note to acquaint her husband with +the circumstances. Mrs. Ripshaw also wrote to Mrs. Cobbold in the +greatest agitation, begging of her, if she knew where she was, to give +information of it, as her husband and two sureties were bound, under a +penalty of five hundred pounds each, to answer for the escape of any +prisoner from the gaol. Such a stir was created in the town of Ipswich +by this event as was scarcely ever before witnessed. People flocked to +the gaol to see the spot whence Peggy had made her escape, and many were +the reports falsely circulated concerning her. + +It is not easy to describe the grief and consternation which was truly +felt by Margaret's dearest and best friend. She knew the consequences of +this rash act; that, if she was taken, it was death, without any hope of +reprieve. + +She ordered her carriage, and went to the gaol, and was as much, or even +more astonished than the inmates of the prison could be. She soon +convinced Mrs. Ripshaw that she had not the slightest idea of any such +intention on the part of her late servant, neither could she tell where +she was gone. She made inquiries whether she had been seen talking with +any of the male prisoners; but no clue could be gained here. Mrs. +Cobbold was one of those whose decided opinion was, that she must have +had somebody as an accomplice; but every soul denied it. This lady +returned home in the greatest distress and uncertainty. Messengers were +dispatched to Nacton, to Brandiston, and even into Cambridgeshire, to +inquire after her. + +When Mr. Ripshaw returned from Bury, he found some of the magistrates +in the gaol. He had formed a very strong opinion in his own mind, and +requested the visiting magistrates to examine the turnkey immediately. +He was summoned, and examined before Colonel Edgar, Mr. Gibson, and Mr. +Neale, and closely questioned. His answers were not deemed satisfactory. + +The magistrates remanded him for a time, and conversed together upon the +subject. They were of opinion that somebody must have bribed the man, +and that he must have let her out, and have put the things as they were +found, as a blind to turn suspicion from himself. + +He was again summoned, and given in custody, on suspicion of having +assisted the prisoner's escape. + +In the meantime, every exertion was made to discover the prisoner, but +without any success. The following hand-bill was printed and circulated +in every direction:-- + + "FIFTY POUNDS REWARD. + + "Whereas, on Tuesday night, the 25th of March, or early on Wednesday + morning, Margaret Catchpole, a female convict, confined in the Ipswich + gaol, made her escape therefrom, either by scaling the wall, or by the + connivance of the turnkey, this is to give notice, that the above reward + shall be given to any person or persons who will bring the said Margaret + Catchpole to Mr. Ripshaw, the gaoler; and one-half that sum to any + person or persons furnishing such information as shall lead to her + apprehension. And notice is hereby given, that any person concealing or + harbouring the said Margaret Catchpole shall, after this notice, if + detected, be, by order of the magistrates, punished as the law directs. + + "N.B.--The prisoner is a tall and dark person, with short hair, black + eyes, and of intelligent countenance. She had on the gaol dress, and + took away with her the two sheets belonging to her bed. + + "IPSWICH GAOL, March 28th, 1800." + +This notice was circulated far and near, and furnished topics for +conversation throughout the county. + +It so happened that some of the servants of Mrs. Cobbold mentioned the +subject of the reward to the old fisherman, Robinson Crusoe, as he stood +at the back-door with his basket of fish. + +"Well, Robin, have you heard of the reward? Have you heard of Margaret's +escape from the gaol!" + +"No; but I think I have seen her, or the foul fiend has played me one of +his shabby tricks." + +"Seen her, Robin! Where?" + +"I saw that fellow Laud, and somebody very like her, go across the +Sutton Ferry together. She might deceive anybody else, but the foul +fiend showed her to me, though she was in a sailor's dress. I told your +mistress, long ago, that no good would come of Margaret." + +This news reached the parlour, and was soon communicated to Mr. Ripshaw, +who quickly had an interview with Mrs. Cobbold, and from her he learned +the intimacy existing between Will Laud, his late prisoner, and +Margaret, and could not doubt that he had assisted in her escape. He +soon ascertained the probable bearings of Laud's destination, and lost +no time in prosecuting the pursuit. He went off for Woodbridge and +Sutton Ferry directly. The ferryman corroborated the testimony of old +Colson as to two sailors, a slight one and a stout one, passing over the +river in his boat, on the morning of the 26th. They went off directly, +he said, for Eyke. Thither the gaoler pursued his course, and thence to +Sudbourn. + +He found out that two sailors had been seen in that neighbourhood such +as he described them, and that they lodged at Mrs. Keeley's. He took a +constable along with him to the cottage, and at once demanded his +prisoner. The woman at first denied all knowledge of the persons he +sought, but, after threatening her with taking her off to gaol at once, +she confessed that her brother and Margaret were down on the coast, +waiting for a boat to carry them off to sea; she even confessed that +Margaret slept with her only the night before, and that a report having +reached them of the reward offered for her capture, she had put a +smock-frock over her sailor's jacket, and was assisting Keeley, her +husband, in keeping his flock upon the marsh saltings. + +The constable of Sudbourn and Mr. Ripshaw went off immediately for the +saltings. They met Keeley, the shepherd, returning with his flock, to +fold them upon the fallows; but no one was with him. He was a shrewd, +sharp, surly fellow, and in a moment understood what was in the wind. + +Mr. Ripshaw began the attack. "Constable, take that man into custody." + +"Where's your warrant, Mr. Gaoler? 'Old birds are not to be caught with +chaff.' Now, then, your warrant for my apprehension, and I am the man to +go with you. Come, show me the warrant at once; or, you no sooner lift +your hand against me than I will show you what resistance is, and you +shall take the consequences of an assault upon my person." + +The fellow stood with his brawny limbs displayed before them, and his +two fierce, rough-coated, short, flap-eared dogs wagging their stumps of +tails, and looking earnestly in their master's face, to see if he gave +the signal for them to attack either, or both the gaoler and the +constable. It was clear that they must go upon another tack. + +The shepherd gave a shrill whistle to his dogs, and on they dashed, +driving the sheep towards the fold. + +They proceeded directly along the shingled hardware to the beach, or +rather to the shore of the river-side, which in those parts much +resembles the sea-shore. The revenue cutter's boat was then going across +the stream of the Alde; they hailed it, and the officer in command +ordered his men to return. + +It was young Barry who came on shore from the boat, and he immediately +walked a little way apart with the gaoler, who explained to him the +nature of his business; and painful as its connexion with Margaret +Catchpole made it to Barry, his sense of duty compelled him to render +the assistance required. Accordingly, they were soon seated in the stern +of the boat, and were rowed by his men towards the spot, where, on the +main shore, Laud and Margaret stood, anxiously watching the approach of +a boat from a vessel on the sea. + +There they stood, not only unconscious of approaching danger, but +congratulating themselves upon the prospect of a termination of all +their troubles. Joyfully did they watch the boat coming over the billows +of the sea, not seeing the other boat approaching them from the river. A +few minutes more, and they would have been beyond the reach of gaolers +and of prisons. + +Neither Laud nor Margaret saw them until they came down upon them, +headed by the gaoler, whose voice Margaret instantly recognized. With a +wild shriek that made the welkin ring, she rushed into the sea, and +would at once have perished, had not Laud caught her, as a wave cast her +back upon the beach and suddenly deprived her of sense and speech. + +He stood across the seemingly lifeless body of that devoted girl, and +with a pistol in each hand cocked, and presented to the foremost men, +the officer and the gaoler, he exclaimed, "Let us go--we are not +defrauding the revenue--you have no business with us!" + +"_You_ may go unhurt," replied the gaoler, "if you will deliver up the +body of Margaret Catchpole. I must and will have her in my custody." + +"If you do, Mr. Ripshaw, it shall be at the peril of your life, or the +cost of mine. The first man who approaches to touch her shall be a +corpse, or he shall make me one." + +There was such determination in his words and attitude, that every one +saw he would not flinch. It was a painful moment for young Barry; he +wished to save the life of Laud; he did not wish to risk that of any of +his men; he stepped forward, and said,-- + +"Will Laud, let me entreat you to give up the person of Margaret +Catchpole; she has escaped from the custody of the gaoler, and is under +sentence of transportation. I promise that you shall depart in safety, +and that she shall take no hurt. Do not force me to shed blood--we +_must_ take her!" + +The next instant two pistols flashed, and Laud lay stretched upon the +sand. He had first fired at Barry and missed him, and the next moment, +in self-defence, Barry was compelled to fire in return. The ball, which +was intended only to have disabled his arm, passed through his heart and +killed him on the spot. So ended the career of a man who, only in the +few latter days of his life, seemed steadily resolved to act fairly by +the woman who had devoted her life to him, and to follow some honourable +occupation in a foreign land. Poor Susan's words at last proved true: +"Margaret you will never marry William Laud." + +The bodies of Laud and Margaret were both carried by the sailors to the +preventive-service boat, and laid upon the men's cloaks at the bottom of +it. After a while, Margaret began to revive, and her awakening dream +was, that she was on board the smuggler's boat, which was coming to meet +them. But the men in that boat, observing the fearful odds against them, +had only rested on their oars to see the fatal result which took place, +and then turned back and steered for their own vessel. + +Margaret looked wildly round her as the moonlight shone upon the +sailors. She whispered, "Laud! Laud!" She saw something lying in a line +with herself upon the same cloaks, but could not distinguish anything +but a sailor's dress: she heard a voice at the helm which was familiar +to her; she recognized it to be Barry's; she lifted her head, and saw +the banks of the river on both sides of the water. The truth seemed to +flash upon her, for she fell backwards again, fainted away, and became +insensible. + +She and her lover were conveyed to the Ship Inn at Orford. The sailors +who carried her, sensible of the devoted heart of the poor girl, seemed +oppressed with heaviness, and could not refrain addressing one another, +in their own peculiar style, upon the bad job of that night. Margaret +became too soon and too fully acquainted with her situation. She shed +tears of the deepest agony; her mind was distracted, and without +consolation. She did not speak to any one; but between sobs, and groans, +and lamentations upon her loss, she seemed the most melancholy picture +of human woe. By what she had heard from some of the pitying sailors +around her, she understood that it was young Edward Barry who had shot +her lover. When he came into the room where she was seated in an +arm-chair, with her head resting in an agony upon her hand, he went up +to speak to her. She lifted up her hands, turned her head aside, and +exclaimed-- + +"Begone, wretch! Did you not voluntarily promise you would never hurt +him?" + +"And so I would, Margaret, if he would have permitted me to do so. But +he would not. He first fired at me, and then I returned it; but only +with the intention of disarming him." + +"You have done a noble deed, and one which will immortalize your name, +one which will form a source of happy reflection to you hereafter, most +noble man of war! You have killed a harmless man, and have taken captive +a poor fugitive female! Happy warrior! you will be nobly rewarded!" + +"Do not reproach me, Margaret, but forgive me. I have only done my duty; +and, however painful it has been, you would not reproach me, if you did +but know how much I really grieved for you." + +"Your grief for me will do me about as much good as mine will poor +William!" and here Margaret burst into a flood of tears, which words +could not in any way repress. + +A post-chaise was ordered to the inn-door, and Margaret, apparently more +dead than alive, was placed within it, and the gaoler taking his seat +beside her, they were conveyed immediately to Ipswich. + +She was once more confined within those walls which she had so recently +scaled; she made no secret of the manner in which she had effected her +escape; she fully confessed her own work, and perfectly exonerated every +other person in the gaol. + +It was well for the poor turnkey that she was captured. He was +immediately released from confinement, and reinstated in his office. + +Margaret was now kept in almost solitary confinement, to mourn over her +unhappy lot, and to reflect upon the death of one whom she had loved too +well. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +SECOND TRIAL, AND SECOND TIME CONDEMNED TO DEATH + + +After the arrival of Margaret at the Ipswich gaol, several magistrates +attended, at the request of Mr. Ripshaw, to take the deposition of the +prisoner. She was summoned into the gaoler's parlour, or, as it was more +properly called, the "Magistrates' Room." The depositions of Mr. Ripshaw +and of the constable of Sudbourn, were first taken down. The nature of +the offence was then for the first time explained to Margaret, and its +most dreadful consequences at once exposed. She was taken completely by +surprise. She had no idea that, in doing as she had done, she had been +guilty of anything worthy of death, and made no hesitation in telling +the magistrates so. She told them, moreover, that her conscience did not +accuse her of any crime in the attempt, and that she thought it a cruel +and bloody law which could condemn her to death for such an act. + +"But are you aware," said Mr. Gibson, one of the visiting magistrates, +"that you have broken that confidence with Mr. Ripshaw which he placed +in you, and that you subjected him and his sureties to the penalty of +five hundred pounds each, had he not recovered you, and brought you back +to prison?" + +"Had I been aware of such a thing, I should then have thought myself as +bad as if I had stolen the money, and should, indeed, have broken the +confidence which, with such a knowledge, would have been placed in me, +but I knew nothing of such a fact. My master, Mr. Ripshaw, was always +kind and indulgent to me, and my mistress the same, but they never +hinted such a thing to me. I was not aware that, with regard to my +personal liberty, there was any bond of mutual obligation between me and +my master. I was always locked up at the usual time, and it never was +said to me, 'Margaret, I will rely upon your honour that you will never +attempt to escape.' No promise was exacted from me, and I did not think +that it was any breach of confidence to do as I have done." + +"You do not consider that you might have ruined an innocent man; that +the turnkey was actually committed upon suspicion of having connived at +your departure, as nobody would believe that you could have done such an +act of your own accord." + +"I might not have done it of my own accord, though I certainly did it +without the assistance of any human being. He, alas! is dead who +persuaded me to it, though I confess it did not require any very great +degree of persuasion; and I fear that, were he living now, I should +almost attempt the same again." + +"There you speak contemptuously, and in a very unbecoming manner, young +woman." + +"I did not mean to be disrespectful to you, gentlemen, especially as you +are so kind as to explain to me the nature of the law. I only meant to +express my own weakness. But may I ask what law it is that makes the act +I have been guilty of so felonious as to deserve death?" + +"You may ask any question you please, but you must not add defiance to +your impropriety and guilt. You are sensible enough to be well assured +that the magistrates here present are not your judges. They have a duty +to perform to their country; and they consider it a privilege and an +honour that their sovereign places them in the situation of such an +active service as to send prisoners before the judge; that such as +transgress the laws, and render themselves unfit to enjoy rational +liberty, should be punished, as men not worthy to be members of a well +organized and civilized community. By the law of the land you live in, +you have once been condemned to death for horse-stealing. By the mercy +of your king, you have had a reprieve, and a commutation of that +sentence of death for transportation for seven years. The period you +have spent in gaol is part of that sentence. Now understand the law:-- + +"'Any prisoner breaking out of gaol, if he resist his gaoler, may be +killed on the spot, in the attempt of the gaoler to restrain him. And +any person breaking out after sentence of death, shall be considered +liable to that punishment for his original offence, which had been +commuted, and shall suffer death accordingly. If he escape through the +door of his prison, when left open, it shall not be felony, because it +is the negligence of the gaoler; but if he break out, after proper +caution exercised for his security, either by force in the day, or by +subtlety in the night, then it shall be felony.' + +"Such is the law; and though in your case, young woman, you may not +consider it just, yet when you reflect upon your example to others, you +will see it in a different light. If every prisoner should go unpunished +who broke out of prison what continual attempts would be made to escape! +I am truly sorry for your case; but the law is made for offenders; and +it is our duty to send you to Bury again for trial. In the meantime, the +gaoler will be upon the alert, and take good care that you do not commit +the same offence again." + +Margaret thanked Mr. Gibson for his explanation. She felt very sorry, +she said, if she had offended any one, and hoped they would forgive her +ignorance and unintentional offence. + +She was fully committed to take her trial for the second offence. Mr. +Gibson was much astonished at her presence of mind and singularly acute +understanding, as well as appropriate and becoming form of speech, which +she used as naturally as she felt it. His words to one deeply interested +for Margaret were, "What a pity that such a woman should not know the +value of her liberty before she lost it!" + +The reader knows the reason why Margaret broke out of prison, and has +seen how she became a second time amenable to the laws. He will observe, +that it was from her acquaintance with that desperate man, who had been +the cause of misery to her and her family, from the first days of her +acquaintance with him. But he was now dead. The cause was removed, and +with it died every wish of her heart for life and liberty. + +But it was not the place that made Margaret so unhappy. It was the void +occasioned by the having no one now to love, that made her feel as if no +one in the world loved her. In this she was greatly mistaken; for though +her offence had occasioned much condemnation among those who were +interested in her, yet they were not so lost to pity and compassion as +not to feel for her sufferings. Among the foremost of those friends was +her former mistress, who, in the true sense of the word, was charitable. + +As soon as she heard that Margaret was retaken, she saw at once all the +dreadful consequences which awaited her, and knew that she would require +more than double attention and care. Her first step was an application +to a magistrate (Mileson Edgar, Esq., of the Red House), for an order to +visit Margaret in prison, and the application was immediately granted in +the following letter from that gentleman:-- + + "RED HOUSE, May 10th, 1800. + + "MY DEAR MADAM, + + "Any request that you would make would be sure to meet with prompt + attention from me, because I am well assured that you would not + make one which I could not grant, and which, when granted, would + not give me pleasure to have attended to. Herewith I send you an + order to Mr. Ripshaw to admit you to visit Margaret Catchpole + during her confinement in the Ipswich gaol. What an extraordinary + being she is! a clever, shrewd, and well-behaved person, yet + strangely perverted in her judgement! She actually cannot be + persuaded that she has offended against the laws of her country. + You will, I trust, my dear madam, by the exercise of your influence + and judgement, convince her of her folly. I am truly glad that you + intend going to see her; for next to the pleasure derived from + granting your request is the comfort I derive from the prospect of + great benefit therein to the prisoner. + + "Believe me, my dear madam, + "Ever yours sincerely, + "MILESON EDGAR. + + "To MRS. COBBOLD, St. Margaret's Green, Ipswich." + +The visit was soon paid to poor Margaret in her cell, and it was one of +deep interest and importance, inasmuch as it paved the way for a better +frame of mind, and deeper humility, than this wretched young woman ever +before felt. On this account we shall record the particulars of the +interview in detail, as related by the lady herself. + +When Mrs. Cobbold entered the cell, Margaret rose and curtsied +respectfully, and the next moment the big tears rolled down her cheeks, +and her chest heaved with convulsive emotion, as if her heart would +break. The gaoler placed a chair for the lady, and retired to the end of +the passage. For a long time nothing could be heard but the occasional +sobs of the prisoner. At length she spoke:-- + +"Oh! my dear lady, how can you look upon me? You are good to come and +see me; but indeed I feel as if I was not worthy you should come. I +never dared to ask it of you. I had scarcely any hope of it. It is only +your goodness. I am a poor, ill-fated being, doomed to sorrow and +despair!" + +"Margaret, I came to see you from a sense of duty to God, and to you +too: I came to try and comfort you; but how can I give consolation to +you if you talk of your being ill-fated and _doomed_ to despair? Do not +say that the doom of fate has anything to do with your present +situation. You know as well as I do, that unless you had misconducted +yourself, you might have been as happy now as you were when I saw you +after your return from Bury. Put your sin upon yourself, and not upon +your fate. You know the real cause of this unhappiness." + +"Ah! dear lady, what would you have done if you had been me and in my +place?" + +"I might have done as you did; but I do think, Margaret, knowing what a +friend I had always been to you, that you might have placed confidence +in me, and have told me Laud was in prison. I observed that you were +much disturbed, and not yourself, when I last came to see you, but I +could not divine the cause." + +"I was afraid to tell you, madam, lest you should persuade me to give up +my acquaintance with him, and I had learned much more to his credit than +I knew before." + +"And so, by following your own inclination, you have brought your lover +and yourself to an untimely death. Oh, Margaret! had you confided in me, +I should have persuaded you to have tried him until you had obtained +your discharge from prison; then, had he been a respectable and altered +man, I should have approved of your marriage." + +"But think, dear lady, how constant he had been to me for so many years! +Surely his patience deserved my confidence." + +"And what good did you ever find it do you, Margaret? Look at the +consequences." + +"I could not foresee them. How could I then look at them?" + +"Though you were so blind as not to foresee the consequences, others, +with more reflection and forethought, might have done so for you; and, +assuredly, had you hinted the matter to me, I should have prevented +what has happened." + +"I wish indeed, now, that I had done so. I suffer most severely in my +mind, not from the fear of punishment, but because I have been the cause +of William Laud's death." + +"And he will have been the cause of your own, Margaret. Had he not +persuaded you to break out of prison, he would not have been killed. He +knew the penalty was death to you if you were caught, and he has met +that very end to which he has now made you liable. Had he loved you +lawfully and honourably, as he ought to have done, he would have waited +for your free and happy discharge." + +"But it seems to me," said Margaret, "so very strange, something so out +of justice, to condemn a person to die for that which does not appear to +her to be a crime. I cannot see the blood-guiltiness that I have thus +brought upon myself. In God's commandments I find it written, 'Thou +shalt not steal.' I stole the horse, and I could see that I deserved to +die, because I transgressed that commandment; but I do not find it said, +'Thou shalt not escape from prison.'" + +"Now Margaret, your own reasoning will condemn you. You acknowledged +that you deserved to die for stealing the horse. Now consider the +difference between the sentence you were actually prepared to submit to +and the one for which it was in mercy changed. Though justly condemned +to death, you are permitted to live and undergo a comparatively mild +punishment, yet you cannot see the duty of submitting to it. You should +have endured the lesser punishment without a murmur. You appeared to +receive the award of it with such thankfulness that it made all your +friends rejoice for you. But how deep is their present sorrow! What will +the judge say to you now when you are placed before him? Religion +teaches you submission to the constituted authorities of your country; +and you ought to think with humility, as you once did, that, like the +thief on the cross, you suffer justly for your crimes. To my mind, +Margaret, you have no excuse whatever. It may be all very well for +romantic ideas of fancy to make your lover the excuse; but you were not +at liberty to choose to roam over the sea with him until you could do so +with a free conscience." + +"It is not for me, dear lady, to say a word against your reasoning. I +did not look upon my crime in this light." + +"You must learn to look upon your crime as one which has done injury to +society. Which of your friends, who interceded for you with the judge, +and gave you so good a character, can now intercede for you again? I am +persuaded, Margaret, that the judge himself will think his former mercy +much displaced, and that you will meet with severity and reproach at his +hands." + +"Dear lady! who can give me comfort? Laud is dead, my father is dead, my +brother is at a distance and will probably be so ashamed of me that he +will never come to see me again. To whom, then, can I look for help? +You, my dear mistress, must be hurt at my conduct, and all my friends +likewise. I do not deserve their compassion, and yet I never wanted help +so much. Oh! who shall comfort me now?" + +"You shall have all the consolation I can give you; I will pray for you +continually; I will lend you such books to read as I think may assist +you; and were we not now about to remove from St. Margaret's Green to +the Cliff again, and in the midst of much bustle, I would come to see +you much oftener than I can now do. My family is increasing, and your +master says he must return again to the brewery and to business. But I +will come and see you many times, and when I cannot come I will write +such instructions as, if you pursue them diligently, may, with God's +blessing, promote your everlasting benefit. I am glad that you are +sensible of your sins. This will go some way towards your deriving +consolation from the Word of God. Attend to the precepts of the +chaplain, who is a good man, and understands your disposition as well +as I do; I shall often communicate with the Rev. Mr. Sharp concerning +you. You must indeed be very, very humble, before you can obtain that +sweet peace of mind which you once possessed. It will come to you again, +if you are sincerely penitent and resigned, but not without." + +"You are a dear friend, madam, to the poor destitute, and the only one +now left me upon the earth. Oh! how, dear lady, can I be worthy of such +kind consideration? Forgive me! oh, pray forgive me!" + +"Margaret, I wish the law could as freely forgive you as I do, but you +must not expect it. You must fortify your soul with religious +consolation alone. Everything else will fail. You must think of far +greater love than I can show to you, Margaret; love that has endured +inexpressible anguish for you; love that has laid down life for you; and +that will teach you how to die. You must think of your Saviour's +love--free, unsought, undeserved love. Oh, the depth of His riches! Who +can estimate them as he ought? You must look up to Him during every +moment of your short existence, and be never weary of praying to Him for +forgiveness. But I must now leave you, Margaret. It shall not be long +before I see you again. God bless you! Good-bye!" + +Margaret could not speak, but she knelt down and prayed inwardly. + +For the next three months Mrs. Cobbold became a frequent visitor at the +gaol, and found that Margaret made the best use of her time between the +period of her committal and her trial. How instructive are the minutes +of her progress, which that lady made, during that most engaging period! +and how blessedly employed was the enlightened mistress in communicating +light to her poor benighted servant! It was now that she made amends, in +her own heart, for that too common error among all who exercise power +and authority: the neglect of the spiritual welfare of their dependants. +She applied her powerful faculties to the strengthening and refreshing +of her servant's mind, by humbling herself with her before God. And well +was she repaid for this exertion. Abundant was the reward to herself in +obtaining that experience in the ways of godliness which strengthened +her own faith and increased her charity. + +Margaret's mind underwent a complete change. She might be truly said to +be a resigned and patient Christian; one who, from that day to her +latest moments, never lost the influence of those purest principles and +most blessed hopes which were then instilled and rooted in her soul. + +On the 1st of August, the day previously to her departure for Bury, +Margaret received the following letter from her excellent mistress:-- + + "CLIFF, IPSWICH, August 1st, 1800 + + "MARGARET, + + "I cannot come and see you, as I had intended this day to have + done, having been so unfortunate as to sprain my ankle in getting + out of my carriage on to the stone step at the Cliff. But I am so + full of thought about you, that my painful foot shall not prevent + my willing hand writing to you a few words before you depart. It + may be good for you and me that this accident has occurred, however + much it may seem our present privation. It may teach us that we + never can command events, or tell what a day may bring forth. It + may so happen that this letter may do you more good than my visit; + if so, I shall not regret the pain I suffer, since I shall have the + consolation of its seeming evil being productive of some good. Oh, + how I wish that we could look upon all events in the same manner, + and be persuaded that all things 'work together for good to them + that love God!' Let us (i. e. you and I) be thus persuaded. It will + prevent us experiencing any present mortification in the + impossibility of our seeing each other at this time. + + "I would first speak to you about your conduct at the trial, and my + pen does that which my tongue would do. Do not attempt in any way + to defend your conduct. Being fully convinced, by God's grace, of + the criminality of your act and deed, let no legal sophistry + whatever induce you to plead _not guilty_. In a court of justice, + you should stand before man in the same way as you would before + your Maker, without any covert deceit, any desire to make a bad + cause appear a good one. + + "Satan is sometimes transformed into an angel of light. He is so + eloquent, so engaging, so bold, so devoted, so earnest, so + intelligent, so interesting, so persuasive, that a lie comes from + him with such apparent grace, that the sons of God are almost + deceived by his transformations. But let not any one persuade you + to take advantage of his services. Truth, Margaret, needs no + fiction to defend it; for 'whatsoever loveth and maketh a lie shall + never enter into the city of truth.' So do not suffer any one who + calls himself your friend to persuade you to trust to fallacies. + You know yourself guilty. Conduct yourself as a person conscious of + your guilt before God and man. I shall not deceive you. The penalty + of your crime is death; and you do not forget the argument that I + used upon a former occasion, 'that if a man owns himself justly + condemned to suffer death, and has mercy shown to him by giving him + a lesser punishment, his duty is to suffer that lesser punishment + with the same resignation as he would death. And if he fail in this + duty, he justly deserves the former punishment.' So do you justly + deserve sentence of death for your present or late sin. And you + will be condemned to die! + + "Be prepared for much severity at the hands of our offended judge. + I say, be prepared; for unless he should know as much of you as I + do, he will think you one of the worst persons alive, and therefore + only fit to be made a public example of by a violent death. I know + you, however, Margaret; and though I believe that if you were now + restored to liberty you would be a Christian servant, and never + more be a guilty slave of sin, yet your judge cannot know this. + Indeed, scarcely any of the magistrates know this. It is, + therefore, best to be prepared for a severe trial. Do not attempt + to call any one to speak to your character. It will be of no use. + The representations made by the magistrates at the last assizes + will be sufficient testimony up to that time; and since then, you + cannot say that you deserve any defence. You must not expect any + mercy, but prepare yourself not only to receive sentence of death, + but _prepare yourself to die_. + + "If a prisoner who knows himself to be guilty does not prepare + himself to die before the sentence of death is passed upon him, his + is a very dangerous state, since the period is so short between + condemnation and execution that he must be very much distracted." + + "You have read through 'The Christian's Consolations against the + Fears of Death,' and you tell me that your mind has been greatly + strengthened by the piety expressed in this good old book. I agree + with you that it touches upon every source of consolation which a + Christian man can contemplate. It meets almost every case. But it + does not exactly contemplate a female convict, like yourself; and + on this account I would add a very few words of advice to you upon + this subject. + + "To die a Christian, and as a Christian ought to die, is to have no + desire whatever but for the kingdom of God. You suffer justly for + your crimes; and you must not let any one deceive you into any + false idea of your own worthiness to live. The penitent malefactor + on the tree rebuked the boldness of his brother, who railed upon + the Saviour of the world, and used these words of reproof, 'Dost + not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we + indeed suffer justly; but this man hath done nothing amiss.' Then + he prefers that humble prayer, which should ever be yours, + Margaret, up to your latest moment, 'Lord, remember me when thou + comest into Thy kingdom!' How infinite in mercy is the Lord! How + loving! How pitiful! How generous to the poor wretch at the moment + of his late repentance! We cannot tell, Margaret, how late that + repentance was. He might have been convinced of his guilt long + before he was lifted up to die. In prison he might have heard, as + you have done, of the great, the good, the only Christ. So that men + do wrong to take even this example for the success of a death-bed + repentance at the last hour. We cannot tell when our last hour may + be. Our first should be one of repentance as well as our last. And + the whole desire of our lives should be, to be remembered in the + kingdom of Christ. The blessed words of our Saviour must have taken + away the sting of death from the faithful heart of the penitent: + 'This day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise.' + + "I conceive that we are justified in taking these words to our own + selves in our own contemplation of death, and in considering them + as the most blessed words that can be used to destroy the power + which the King of Terrors often raises in the minds of weak and + sinful mortals. If you are truly penitent, justly sensible of all + your sins, and are fully convinced of the meritorious sacrifice + which God has once made for your sins and those of the whole world, + I see no reason why your faith should not be so fully fixed on + these blessed words as to let them be the hope of your heart. It is + almost impossible for the true penitent to beg to be remembered in + the kingdom of Christ without experiencing comfort from the + Saviour's words, 'This day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise.' + + "Death frees us from the dominion of sin; that is, if we die in + Christ. We are then with Him in Paradise, in that state of + innocency in which Adam was before he was driven out of the Garden + of Eden. Our spirits know no fear, since we are in love; and + 'perfect love casts out fear, because fear hath torment.' + + "Your judge, Margaret, will probably tell you to make good use of + the short time you have to live. I not only tell you this, that you + may be fortified against your sentence of death, but that you may + prepare yourself for entering upon another and a better life. I am + glad to find, by my friend the chaplain, that you have diligently + applied your whole strength to the Word of God, and have found how + weak, how wicked, how lost you have been all the days of your life. + I hope to be able to come and see you, with him, after your return + from Bury, and to partake with you of spiritual refreshment. Till + then, my poor servant, I can only pray that you may be rich in + grace, strong in faith, humble in heart, devout in prayer, lowly + and contrite in spirit, watchful against all temptation, in love, + in peace, in charity with all, praying for all: for your judge, + jury, and fellow-prisoners. + + "Oh that your end may be as you wish it, a warning to all your sex, + and especially to those in your situation of life, never to let + passion get the upper hand of virtuous principle! That God may + fortify you with His spirit, cheer you with His Word, and comfort + you in death, is the earnest prayer of your former mistress + + "And present friend, + "ELIZABETH COBBOLD. + + "To MARGARET CATCHPOLE." + + +Margaret fed upon the contents of this letter, and followed the advice +given her; and with what effect will be best seen by the account +preserved of her second trial. She went to Bury on the 2nd of August, +and on the 3rd was conducted to the same court, and appeared before the +same judge, as she had done upon her first trial three years before. + +The Lord Chief Baron Sir Archibald Macdonald was this time accompanied +by Sir Beaumont Hotham. The juries for the county and liberty were the +following honourable gentlemen:-- + + FOR THE COUNTY + + Lord Viscount Broome. + + Charles Berners, jun., Esq. + + B. G. Dillingham, Esq. + + P. J. Thelluson, Esq. + + George Wilson, Esq. + + Matthias Kerrison, Esq. + + Wolfran Lewis, Esq. + + Mileson Edgar, Esq. + + John Cobbold, Esq. + + Edward Studd, Esq. + + Anthony Collet, Esq. + + Joseph Burch Smith, Esq. + + John Farr, Esq. + + John Dresser, Esq. + + William Philpot, Esq. + + James Reeve, Esq. + + Edmund Barber, Esq. + + James Stuttur, Esq. + + + FOR THE LIBERTY + + + Sir T. C. Bunbury, Bart. + + Sir T. C. Cullum, Bart. + + Sir Harry Parker, Bart. + + Barnard E. Howard, Esq. + + N. Barnadiston, Esq. + + Nathaniel Lee Acton, Esq. + + Capel Lofft, Esq. + + John Mosley, Esq. + + Joshua Grigby, Esq. + + William Mannock, Esq. + + John Wastell, Esq. + + Robert Walpole, Esq. + + Richard Cartwright, Esq. + + Thomas Cocksedge, Esq. + + Thomas Mills, Esq. + + James Oakes, Esq. + + Thomas Gery Cullum, + Esq. + + Abraham Reeve, Esq. + + George Archer, Esq. + + William B. Rush, Esq., Sheriff. + +The usual forms of the court having been gone through, Margaret +Catchpole was again placed at the bar. Margaret was dressed, as +formerly, in a plain blue calico dress. She appeared pale and thin, but +perfectly free from any of that emotion which she formerly exhibited. +There was a calmness of deportment without the least obduracy, and no +obtrusive boldness nor recklessness. She did not look round the court +with any of that anxiety she formerly exhibited, as if she wished to see +any one there who knew her. She knew that Will Laud was gone, and that +neither her father nor her brother was there. She was quite indifferent +to the public gaze, and with her eyes cast down upon the bar, she saw +not that piercing glance which the judge gave her as she took her +station before him, though every person in court noticed it, and looked +at the prisoner to see if she did not quail before it. + +The indictment having been read aloud, once more the clerk of the court +addressed her in these terms: + +"How say you, prisoner at the bar, are you guilty or not guilty?" + +Margaret lifted up her dark eyes once more, and looking her judge calmly +in the face, said-- + +"Guilty, my lord." + +There was a perfect stillness in that crowded court, while the judge now +addressed her in the following terms:-- + +"I cannot address you, prisoner at the bar, in the same strain I +formerly did, since I am persuaded that you are hardened in your +iniquity. I pitied you at that time for your youth; but though young in +years, you are old in crime. I considered you then a person who, if you +had the chance, would form, for the remainder of your days, an estimable +character. In this, however, I have been greatly deceived, and I now +look upon you as a person whom I believe to be dangerous to the morals +of others, and therefore unfit to live. You have shown your sense of the +past mercy extended to you by your bold and daring conduct in breaking +out of prison. I had fully intended to have obtained your discharge from +the Ipswich gaol at these very assizes, had I heard the good report I +received last year confirmed. You may judge, then, of my surprise and +indignation when I heard of your escape from the gaol. + +"So bold a woman would make a very bad companion for any man. She who, +after receiving pardon for her past crimes, in the merciful permission +to live when condemned to death, will again be guilty of setting a bad +example to all, instead of a good and reformed one: she who will set at +defiance the laws of her country, and be so bold as to break out of +prison before the period of her confinement had expired, shows such a +disregard to all past and present mercies that she is not worthy to +live. + +"You have, I understand, been the occasion of sudden death to one man, +and might have involved others in your guilt. The turnkey of the gaol +might have been severely punished for your delinquency. Your gaoler, +whose duty it is to attend the prisoners to Bury, and of whose absence +you took such a shameful advantage, might have suffered a heavy fine. +You had very nearly eluded his activity, and I consider that great +credit is due to him for the manner in which he recovered you and has +brought you to justice. The magistrates of this county have very +properly applauded his zeal; and I consider it a fortunate thing for +society, that you are not this moment at large in any part of his +Majesty's dominions. + +"I will not waste words upon a person so ungrateful as you are. What can +you possibly have to say why sentence should not be passed upon you? You +may say anything you have to say. It cannot be anything good, or in the +least mitigate the severest penalty of the law. Have you anything to +say, prisoner at the bar?" + +There was such a still silence in the court at this moment that the +scratch of a pen might have been heard. The barristers all looked up at +the prisoner. Every eye was fixed intently upon her pale face, as she +looked up and made such a composed reply to the Lord Chief Baron's +speech, that one of the most eminent barristers of that day, afterwards +as eminent as a judge, declared it to be the most able and impressive he +had ever, under such circumstances, heard. She spoke with perfect ease, +and apparently without the slightest tremor, and was heard all over the +court. + +"My lord, I fully expected that your lordship would condemn me severely +for my present offence. I expected severity; but I did not think that I +should receive the language of judgement without mercy from one whose +former kindness touched my heart. As to my being a hardened offender, I +humbly hope that in this respect your lordship is mistaken. I have +committed two offences against the laws of my country. The first I +acknowledged, not without a sense of its guilt; the second, when I +committed it, I was quite unconscious of the light in which the law +viewed it, and I thought it no crime at all. Had not the arguments of +one wise as your lordship, and a far dearer friend to the prisoner, +convinced me of its enormity, I had this day stood before the court and +felt myself condemned as an innocent person. Thank God, such is not the +case! and your lordship's accusation of my being a hardened offender is +without foundation. + +"At this moment of condemnation you refer to your intention of obtaining +my discharge at these assizes. At such a time as this, the expression of +such an intention might have produced extreme bitterness in my heart, +did I not know, that before the last assizes, your lordship received a +memorial, signed by all the magistrates who visited the Ipswich gaol, +praying for my discharge on account of exemplary conduct up to that +time. Had you, then, my lord, attended to that prayer, the offence for +which I am now to suffer the severity of the law would never have been +committed, the life of the man whom it was my fault to love would have +been spared, and I should not have had the anguish of being compelled to +speak as I now do, nor this court the pain of hearing me. The bitterness +then which your reference to my intended discharge would have given me +must remain with your lordship, not with me. You may be well assured, my +lord, that I am not hardened, but penitent. In the twinkling of an eye I +shall meet your lordship at the tribunal of perfect justice, where we +shall both be prisoners at that bar where we shall require, and, I hope, +shall find mercy. + +"You could not imagine what I should say, and what I do say is not meant +as a defence of my improper act, but only in justice to those who may +wish me 'God speed' in this court, and who might think from your +lordship's language that I was insensible to their or your lordship's +past kindness. The day will come, and not long after my departure +hence, when your lordship will be convinced that your opinion, now +expressed, was not such as the circumstances of my case warranted or +called for. Your lordship will then clearly see, that through ignorance, +and prompted somewhat beyond the bounds of reason by the force of +gratitude to one whom I too dearly loved, I was induced to attempt to +gain that liberty which I then felt could only be pleasant in his +company. + +"Your lordship will, I hope, send me soon to the enjoyment of a liberty +with which no laws of man can interfere. I call no persons to speak to +my character since the period when your lordship received the testimony +of the gaoler, chaplain, and magistrates of the Ipswich division. I +humbly beg pardon of you, my lord, and of all this court, if I have said +anything which may seem disrespectful to you or any persons present; and +I now await your lordship's sentence." + +After Margaret had finished speaking, all eyes were turned towards the +judge. The barristers who were present whispered together, and his +lordship caught the sounds of words like these: "Admirable answer!" +"Sensible speech!" "Able reply!" which made the colour come into his +face, and it required some degree of judicial self-possession to +disperse it. He soon resumed, however, his wonted dignity and calmness, +and proceeded to pass sentence upon the prisoner, prefacing the awful +terms with these words:-- + +"Prisoner at the bar, I am glad to say that my opinion may be altered +with regard to your hardened state; I may lament, also, that the prayer +of that petition made in your behalf was not sooner complied with, as +you expected it would have been. This will not, however, excuse your +crime. It might be sufficient to establish the propriety of your conduct +up to that time, but your subsequent act completely cancelled that +character. You have artfully attempted to throw the blame, which rests +entirely with yourself, upon me as your judge." Here Margaret looked at +him with piercing scrutiny, but uttered not a word. "He will not blame +himself again under similar circumstances, having had such occasion to +blame himself for too great leniency upon your former trial. You are +sufficiently sensible to be aware of the short time you have to live, +and of the necessity of making good use of it. I shall add no more than +the judgement of this court, which is----" + +Here the judge passed the sentence in the same awful words as he had +formerly done. + +There were many in that court who felt for the prisoner more than the +finest eloquence could express. She received the sentence without any of +those deep feelings which she had formerly exhibited; she looked as +mildly and quietly at the judge as if she had only been receiving his +advice; she curtsied respectfully to him and the court; and then she +firmly receded from the dock, and returned to the care of the gaoler. + +It was observed by several persons of the court, that the Lord Chief +Baron did not rally his wonted cheerfulness during the succeeding +business of the day. Whatever may be said of the habit of sternness and +indifference to the real promptings of nature, which men who administer +the laws of their country usually entertain (and a judge is seldom +guilty of any exhibition of human weakness in the act of condemning a +fellow-creature to death), yet Chief Baron Macdonald most certainly did +feel a strange sensation of nervous sensibility with regard to the +unfortunate woman he had that day condemned. He was more abstracted and +thoughtful upon her case than upon any other which came before him. He +could not dismiss it from his mind with his wonted consciousness of +composure. He continually reverted to her extraordinary character +whenever a pause in the business of the court afforded him an +opportunity to speak to the high sheriff, and he was heard to say-- + +"I should like to examine the spot whence this wonderful woman effected +her escape. The more I think of what I have been told of her, and of +what I have heard from her own lips, the more curious I am to inspect +the gaol. If I have an opportunity before I return to town, I most +assuredly will do so. I wish I could see that woman, and be myself +incog. I could then judge of some things which appear to me inexplicable +in such a person. Whence does she gain such powers of speech, such +simplicity of manners, and yet so truly applicable to her situation? +There must be mind and instruction too!" + +The high sheriff, who was a man of the most humane disposition, here +ventured to tell the judge that many of the magistrates thought that her +life would have been spared on account of their former recommendation. +This was quite in private conversation, and only came to light after the +business of the assizes was over. Let whatever influence may have been +exercised with his lordship in behalf of the prisoner, or let it have +been simply his own conviction that mercy would not again be unworthily +extended, before he left Bury her sentence was once more changed from +death to transportation. But this time it was for life, instead of for +seven years or for any fixed period. + +Margaret received the announcement of this change without any expression +of joy for herself or thankfulness to her judge. She regretted that she +should have to linger out so many years of her existence in a foreign +land, and when told of it as an act of mercy, she replied "that it was +no mercy to her." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +TRANSPORTATION + + +Margaret returned to Ipswich in a very despondent state of mind; more +so, to all appearance, than if her sentence had not been changed from +death to transportation. Her feelings on this point are strikingly +evinced in the following letter, which she wrote to her mistress soon +after her return to gaol:-- + + "IPSWICH GAOL, August 9th, 1800. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "I am returned from Bury, and I regret to say that I am not to die + yet. That day is put off--perhaps that I may be swallowed up by the + sea, or be eaten by the savages of Botany Bay. I am to look forward + to years of degraded slavery, and to be sent away from my country + and my friends. I am so sorrowful, my dear lady, that I require + more of your good advice to learn to live than to learn to die. I + feel, indeed, as if my judge did it to torment me, and if I had the + opportunity, I should certainly tell him so. You told me he would + be severe; he was bitterly so, but it made me feel much less + grateful to him than I did the first time. Then I thought him like + you, dear lady, but I see no traces of that resemblance now. His + words were tormenting, his manners towards me tormenting, and his + change of sentence is tormenting. I would really have rather been + left to die, though by the hand of the public executioner, than be + as I am, soon to be sent out of the country to meet a more + miserable death. If I never see you more, I shall never forget you. + I told the judge that but for your friendship I should not have + been sensible of my sin. He called me a hardened sinner, and said I + was not fit to live. I wonder, then, that he did not suffer me to + die. Dear lady, I feel so very low, that if you do not come and + see me I shall be miserable indeed. Do--oh! pray do, if you can! I + hope you are suffering less from the effects of your sprain, and + that I shall see you. Forgive your poor servant's boldness and + seeming selfishness. I pray earnestly for you and your dear family. + Oh that I could see the dear Cliff again! So happy was I when I + first lived there, and so should I be now, could I ever hope to see + you there again. To be your servant would be something worth living + for; but to be a slave in a foreign land! Oh! my dear lady! death + would be preferable to + + "Your poor servant, + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "To MRS. COBBOLD, Cliff, Ipswich." + +Her letter was dated on Saturday, the 9th August. It may be seen in the +_Ipswich Journal_ of the 16th of August, A. D. 1800, that the Lord Chief +Baron paid a visit to the Ipswich gaol on Tuesday, 12th of August. + +He arrived on the morning of that day in his carriage, and was not +personally known to the turnkey. He told the man that he came purposely +to inspect the gaol, and wished particularly to see the spot where +Margaret Catchpole effected her escape. + +"Did you fill the office of turnkey at the time?" inquired the visitor. + +"I did, sir," replied the man. + +"Then you had a very narrow escape; for, had I been the judge to have +tried you, I should have been much inclined to have thought you guilty +of connivance in this matter." + +"Then I am very glad, sir, that you are not a judge." + +The Lord Chief Baron did not tell him at the moment who he was. + +The turnkey was quite ready to show him the way in which the escape had +been made. He set up the frame exactly as he found it on the day of +Margaret's adventure, and showed him the very crotch with which she had +fixed the line on the _chevaux de frise_. The broken spike on the +roller was pointed out, and he informed the judge of the trousers and +smock-frock which the prisoner had manufactured out of the sheets of her +bed. After having examined minutely the place and the frame, and having +heard the full report of the turnkey, he again said-- + +"What an artful woman she must be to do this, and to be able to deceive +you in the sound of her voice from the adjoining cell!" + +"Aye, sir; and had she not confessed this, I should have been puzzled, +up to this hour, to account for her getting out of her cell, as I swore +that I heard her answer from within, before I locked the door." + +"She must be a clever person." + +"Yes, sir, I believe she is. She owes a very great deal to a lady in +this town, who has taken great pains with her." + +"So I have heard," said the stranger. "I would give something to see +that lady. I understand she is the wife of the gentleman from whom she +stole the horse." + +"I wish the lady might call while you are here, sir. It is not unlikely +that she may. Pray, sir, were you in court at the time of her trial?" + +"Yes, I was." + +"Then, perhaps, sir, you could tell us if it be true that she answered +the judge who addressed her in such a manner as to confuse him. Our +folks say that he was completely set, and felt so much surprised as to +be put out by her speech. I do not, of course, know if it be so, but I +heard two of our visiting magistrates talking about it the other day, +and they seemed to say as much as if it was so." + +"It did not strike me to be exactly so. The judge was certainly +surprised at what she said, but I do not think he was angry with the +prisoner. Is the woman in her cell at this time?" + +"Yes, she is, sir." + +"Will you tell Mr. Ripshaw that I should like to examine all the cells +of the prison?" + +"Mr. Ripshaw is gone with two prisoners to Portsmouth, sir; but Mrs. +Ripshaw is within, and I can show you the cells." + +The Lord Chief Baron followed the turnkey to the door of the governor's +house, which was in the centre of the gaol. At this moment the chaplain, +the Rev. Mr. Sharp, came to pay his visit to the prisoners. The +gentlemen were shown into the parlour, where Mrs. Ripshaw sat, busily +engaged at some of the gaol accounts. + +The Lord Chief Baron presented his card to the chaplain, who immediately +explained to Mrs. Ripshaw who it was. + +"I am come purposely to inspect the gaol, Mrs. Ripshaw, and I wish to be +quite incog. at present. I have already examined the spot where that +extraordinary woman, Margaret Catchpole, effected her escape; and if +you, sir," addressing himself to the chaplain, "are going to visit her, +and have no objection to my accompanying you, I should like to be +brought in as your friend. You need not address me, but I will join you +in your duties. I wish to see this singular woman, if possible, without +her recognizing me." + +"She is, indeed, my lord," replied the chaplain, "a most extraordinary +person. I have found her, up to this second trial, not only tractable, +but intelligent and attentive in the highest degree; but since her +return from Bury, she is disappointed and dissatisfied." + +"With what?" + +"With her reprieve for transportation." + +"With her reprieve! Does the woman really prefer death to life?" + +"Your lordship will be the best judge of that by the tenor of our +conversation, if she should not recognize your lordship. And should she +do so, she would not scruple to tell you plainly her opinion." + +"I do not think that she can possibly recognize me, if I do not speak to +her, and I shall keep strict silence, if I can." + +What a strange alteration do robes and wigs make in the appearance of +men of the law! Who could recognize the Lord Chief Baron of our courts +of law without the robes of his office? Counsel are not recognized even +by their clients when they first see them in their rooms without their +wigs and gowns. No wonder, then, that Margaret Catchpole should take her +judge for some brother clergyman or friend of the chaplain's, when he +entered the cell, and seated himself upon a chair, which the turnkey +placed there for him. + +"Well, Margaret," said the chaplain, "I hope you are a little more +reconciled to your prospects than you were when I saw you last." + +"I wish I could say I am, sir; but my prospects look very gloomy, and I +feel a great deal more anguish than if I were going to be executed." + +"You ought not to do so, Margaret; I consider it a great mercy that your +life is spared." + +"Spared! For what, sir? To drag on a wretched life as a felon, and to +live and die, no one knows how or cares, and then to lie in a felon's +grave in a distant land! Here my body would at least have soon rested +beside my friends and relatives. My sufferings would have been short, +and I think I should have been happy. Oh, sir! pray forgive my poor +broken heart; it will give utterance to the language of lamentation. Oh! +that cruel judge! He might have let me die, especially as the bitterness +of death had already passed over me. But he was angry and displeased at +me for speaking, though he asked me if I had anything to say! So he +resolved that I should suffer the most excruciating torture by killing +me by inches in a foreign land! Is this mercy, Mr. Sharp?" + +"You look upon this in an unchristian and too gloomy a light. You here +attribute motives to your judge of a very improper kind; such as I am +fully persuaded never entered his mind, and never were inmates of his +breast. I am persuaded his thoughts toward you were those of pity as +well as mercy, and that your change of sentence was meant for your good +and that of others. You have no right to judge of his motives in so +unchristian a light." + +"My dear sir, again I say, pardon my speech. I speak as I feel. Perhaps, +with your help, I may feel differently, but I should then speak +differently. Could you, or this gentleman, feel as I do, and were either +of you placed in my situation, you would think and argue very +differently to what you now do. You sit there, both of you, at liberty +to move from this place to the happy associations of kindred, friends, +and home. I grant you, a return to their society sweetens life, and +teaches you to bear your earthly visitations, whatever they may be, +patiently. But let me ask you how you would, either of you, like now to +be afflicted with a long, lingering, painful, bodily disease, which +permitted you only a few moments' rest, and those troubled and broken, +and disturbed by horrid dreams; that, when you awoke each day, it was +only to a sense of increased pain? How would you like years of such +increased agony? Tell me, would you not prefer a happier, shorter, and +speedier termination of your sufferings than that long distant one which +must come at last after years of weariness and pain? Yet you find fault +with me because I would rather die now than live many years in all the +horrors of slavery, and then die without a friend near me!" + +"Still I think you wrong, Margaret. You seem to argue as if we had a +choice of our own in these matters, and forget that it must be God's +will, and not our own, to which we must submit." + +"Is it God's will, or is it man's will, that I should lead a life of +misery?" + +"This question almost makes me think you impious, Margaret. It is God's +will that you should live, and I hope for some good: at all events, it +is for some wise purpose of His own, either that you may become an +instrument of His righteousness or mercy in His hands, or that you may +be an example to others. As to the misery you talk of, that will depend +much upon your own future individual conduct and character. I have +heard that some receive pardon in that country for their good conduct, +and they settle in the land; and instead of being slaves, they become +useful members of society." + +"That may perhaps be the case with some, sir; but I am looking at my own +present state, and I cannot believe that my judge had any such mercy in +his view when he changed my sentence from present momentary suffering to +such future wretchedness." + +"Of that you can know nothing, neither ought you to take your present +state as any other than that of God's decree by His agent, the judge. +How can you ascertain the motives of any man's heart? I do firmly +believe that your judge decided most mercifully and righteously in your +case. He might really think that if you were removed from this country, +you might be instrumental in doing much good. He might hope that, under +different circumstances of life, from the very natural force of your +character taking another bias, you might become a blessing to yourself +and others." + +"And so, because I yielded to temptation when I had so many good friends +around me, he would throw me into the very midst of temptation, where I +have not one friend to help me. Oh! Mr. Sharp, would it not be far +better to choose present release, when such kind friends are near me, +than future death, when no comforter or friend can be near?" + +"And is not your God near you, Margaret, in every place, unless you +drive Him away by your wickedness? But how can you tell that He may not +raise up some benevolent friend to help you in that country to which you +are going? I hope for the best. At all events, you must cherish better +feelings towards your judge than those you now possess, or your state +will be dreadful indeed wherever you may be. You seem to have forgotten +all the Christian lessons which your dear mistress and I have taken such +pains to teach you." + +"I would not be ungrateful, sir, though I may now appear, as I am, so +unhappy. I will try by prayer to conquer the prejudice you speak of. I +do suffer such extreme horror in my mind from my view of the future, +that there is no rest for me by night or day. I see nothing but chains +and darkness. I think sometimes of the long, long journey from my native +land, of the dangers of the sea, of the companions with whom I may be +mixed. I start sometimes in my dreams, and fancy a great shark dashing +at me in the waters. Another time I see the native cannibals ready to +devour me. Then I think of home, of you, sir, of dear Dr. Stebbing, of +my uncle and aunt, and of my dearest mistress, and I find my +prison-pillow is wet with my nightly tears." + +The tears started in more eyes than her own, as she spoke, in her +touching simplicity, of these acute feelings. She suffered intensely; +and it took many months of rational and devout conversation, on the part +of both her mistress and this worthy man, to eradicate those bitter +seeds of despair, and to sow those of cheerfulness and hope. After +directing Margaret's mind to Christian duties, the chaplain and the +judge left her cell. They conversed some time upon her state of mind and +future prospects. The judge declared that he thought her one of the most +sensitive persons he had ever seen, with a mind capable of the highest +cultivation. He left five guineas with the chaplain to be laid out for +her benefit. He stated that she would not, in all probability, leave +England till the next summer, and hoped to hear a better account of her +some future day. Margaret was not informed of the person who had visited +her that day with the chaplain, until she had learned to look upon him +and herself in a very different light. + +The Lord Chief Baron visited all the cells of the prison, and expressed +his approbation of the cleanliness and neatness of the whole place. As +he was going away, he told the turnkey that he was the very judge who +had tried the female prisoner for breaking out of gaol. The reader may +imagine how frightened the poor fellow was at his late boldness of +speech. The judge observed his embarrassment, and told him that he had +spoken nothing improper; that he had done his duty, and deserved his +thanks. + +"You may tell your master," he added, "that I am so well satisfied with +the appearance of all things under his care, that when I return to town +I shall not fail to give a favourable report of the state of the gaol +and of his discipline." He made the turnkey a present, and left the +gaol. + +It was not until May, 1801, that Margaret Catchpole was informed of the +day of her departure for Botany Bay. She had been instructed in many +things relating to the country to which she was going, and her kind +mistress had purchased an assortment of useful articles for her future +employment. Her mind had been gradually divested of its miserable +horrors, and became fortified for the occasion. It will be seen, +however, that as the near approach of the day came, she dreaded and +lamented it bitterly. On the 25th of May, 1801, Mrs. Cobbold received +the following note from her:-- + + + "IPSWICH GAOL, May 25th, 1801. + + "DEAR AND HONOURED MADAM, + + "I am sorry to have to inform you of the bad news. I am going away + on Wednesday next, or Thursday at the latest, so I have taken the + liberty of troubling you with these few lines. It will be the last + time I shall ever trouble you from this place of sorrowful, yet, + comparatively with the future, blessed captivity. My grief is very + great, now that I am really on the eve of banishment from my own + country and from all my dearest friends for ever. It was hard for + me ever to think of it. Oh! what must it be to endure it! Honoured + madam, it would give me some happiness to see you once more, on the + Tuesday previous to my leaving England for ever, if you will not + think this request of mine too troublesome. I know your kind heart. + I would spare you any anxiety about so unworthy a person as + myself, but I must entreat your goodness to consider me in this my + severest misery. Have pity upon me! Oh! do come! Only let me see + your dear face once more, and it will ever be a comfort and + satisfaction to your poor unhappy servant, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "To MRS. COBBOLD, Cliff, Ipswich." + + +On Tuesday, the 26th of May, this benevolent lady paid poor Margaret her +last visit. She felt that it would be the last time she should ever see +her in this world. It was a painful interview, and one that she would +have spared herself, had it not been for the hope of comforting the mind +of her disconsolate servant. She found her seated upon the chest which +she had sent her from the Cliff a few days before. Her eyes were swollen +with weeping; and, as she rose to meet her beloved mistress, she +trembled and tottered from the weakness of agitation. Her mistress +gently seated her again, and took her seat beside her. + +"Oh! my dear lady!" she began, "my time is come, and I feel just as if +my heart would burst. Surely this must be worse than death!" + +"Do not say so, Margaret. Remember all the advice I have given you, and +I have no doubt that you will find yourself rewarded with different +treatment to that which you expect." + +"But I shall never see you nor any of my dear friends again. This is my +sorrow." + +"But we shall hear from you often, Margaret." + +"And shall I hear from you, dear lady? Will you remember me? Will you +not forget your poor servant? Oh! she will never forget you, never cease +to bless you!" + +"I will write to you, Margaret, as soon as I hear of your arrival." + +"Bless you, dear lady! God bless you! But when I look at you, and think +of your dear face, it is like the sun for ever hidden from my sight +when you leave me." + +"The same sun, Margaret, will shine upon us both. He will visit you +while I am asleep, and me when you are at rest. The same God who causes +him to shine upon us all will be, as he is, alike merciful to us both, +though we live in different lands. Let me entreat you, as my last solemn +injunction, never to forget your duty to Him. Read your Bible whenever +you can. You will have much time and opportunity upon your voyage, and I +hope you will employ them to the best purposes. You will find in your +chest many good books. They will be a great source of comfort to you." + +"Oh! that I will, dear lady! and when I think of you who gave them to +me, and of the dear friends who have visited me, and of that good lady +you introduced to my cell, Mrs. Sleorgin, who brought me yesterday this +packet of books. Oh! how dearly shall I desire to see you and them!" + +"Think, too, Margaret, what pleasure it will give us all to hear that +you are doing well, that all the instructions of your kind friends have +not failed. You will be able to add greatly to my comfort by this. You +will also add to my knowledge many things of which I have at present +very imperfect information. You will inform me of the state of that new +country. Surely this will give you some pleasure, and profit me also." + +"Dear lady! you are so good! You make me almost wish to live, if only +for the pleasure of serving you. If it were but permitted me to come to +England once more, I do think my journey would seem nothing to me. It +looks such a dreary prospect to be deprived of all whom we love, that I +feel faint at the idea of loneliness in a foreign land." + +"Exercise your faith, Margaret, and you will never be alone. All lands +will be pleasant to you." + +"None so pleasant as my own: but I will try, I do try, I will hope. You +are so kind to me, my dear mistress! Give my duty to my good master; my +love to all the dear, dear children. Oh! forgive me, my dear lady! I +cannot help crying; tears do me good." + +Those friends (for so, in spite of the difference in their station and +their character, we must venture to call them) parted from each other +for the last time on earth; but they lived to correspond, by letter, for +many years after, and both felt an increased interest for each other's +happiness. + +The hour of Margaret's departure arrived. The worthy chaplain was the +last person whom Margaret saw in the cell of her prison. Her uncle and +aunt Leader saw her the day before. The worthy chaplain presented her +with the remainder of the judge's present. She had long learned to look +upon his sentence in a different light to that in which she had once +viewed it; and now, with feelings greatly subdued, she knelt with the +good chaplain, and prayed earnestly that she might never forget the +lessons he had given her. She prayed fervently for pardon for all her +sins, and that she might for ever leave them behind her, and thenceforth +lead a new and better life. Then, turning to Mr. Sharp, she said-- + +"One favour more, sir: your blessing." + +"May God bless you, Margaret," said the good chaplain, "and make you, +for the remainder of your days, an instrument of good, to His own glory +and the benefit of your fellow-creatures! Amen. Farewell." + +On Wednesday, May 27, Mr. Ripshaw left Ipswich with three female +prisoners in his charge, Margaret Catchpole, Elizabeth Killet, and +Elizabeth Barker. He took them to Portsmouth, and saw them safe on board +the convict-ship, bound for Botany Bay. + +Margaret had not left the New Gaol, two hours before the turnkey was +summoned to the lodge, and opened the door to a tall, thin man, dressed +in the poorest garb, who with a voice soft and gentle, meek and +melancholy, requested to see Margaret Catchpole. + +"She is just departed with the governor for Portsmouth. Who are you?" + +"I am her brother. My misfortunes are indeed heavy: I am just returned +from India. I find my father gone, my brothers gone, and this my only +sister, worse than all! Oh, bitter cup! gone in disgrace from the +country!" + +"Pray walk this way. I will introduce you to our chaplain, and some +consolation may be found for you." + +The melancholy truth was soon explained. Charles Catchpole, alias Jacob +Dedham, alias Collins Jaun, the spy, whom the reader may recognize as +mentioned in a former part of this history, returned to his native +country literally a beggar. He went out to India, and, upon his arrival +in that country, his friend, Lord Cornwallis, had resigned his high +office, and returned to England. The account he gave of himself was +singularly eventful. He assumed the appearance of a native chief, joined +some of the roving tribes of warlike adventurers, and became a +conspicuous character. He fell in love with a nabob's daughter, and +married her according to the national customs and ceremonies; but his +ill-assorted match did not long prosper. His origin and connexion with +the English were discovered, and the spy had to fly the country for his +life. He escaped, gained his passage home, and had spent his last +shilling in the very public-house at St. Mary Elms where he received his +first as an enlisted recruit. His case was that day mentioned to several +individuals, amongst others to Edward Bacon, Esq., who had spent many +years in India, who pronounced him no impostor. He employed him many +days in taking a view of Ipswich and its environs, which he did with +extraordinary accuracy, from Savage's windmill on Stoke Hills. This view +was presented by that gentleman to the author of these pages, and it +presents all the striking accuracy and patient persevering +characteristics of a self-taught artist. + +By his own industry, and the generosity of others, he gained a few +pounds, with which he determined to settle in one of the colonies. He +obtained a passage to the Cape of Good Hope; but the poor fellow met +with a severe accident in falling down the hold of the vessel, broke his +back, and died upon the passage. + + * * * * * + +Thus ended the career of Margaret Catchpole in England, where her +virtues will long be remembered, together with her crimes. What remains +of her history will serve to show what fruits may be gathered from a +faithful spirit, a good heart, a high courage, and a strong +understanding, when disciplined in the school of adversity, and under +the guidance of good principles, seasonably instilled by kind and +judicious monitors. It will be seen that her chief temptation having +been mercifully removed, a true repentance, and an entire alteration of +life and character, entitled her to the full forgiveness, and even +approbation, of her fellow-creatures. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +BANISHMENT + + +The first news which reached England concerning Margaret was contained +in a letter written by herself, by which it appears she had obtained a +situation at the Orphan Asylum; and, as it will best explain her +feelings and situation at that time, the reader shall be furnished with +a copy of it. The sheet upon which it is written contains two letters; +one to her mistress, directed to her master; the other to Dr. Stebbing. + + "SYDNEY, Jan. 21st, 1802. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "With pleasure I cannot describe, I am permitted to take up my pen + and write to you, to acquaint you with my arrival in safety at Port + Jackson, Sydney, New South Wales, on December 20, 1801. As I left + the ship, and was about to be landed, the shore, as I approached + it, put me very much in mind of the Cliff on the banks of the river + Orwell. The houses, backed by the hills, so much resembled that + happy spot, that it put me in good spirits; and had I but seen your + smile to welcome me, I should have been happy indeed. But I thought + of you, of your prayers, your advice, your kindness and + consolation; and when I saw land so much like my own dear native + home, I really felt as if I was not entirely banished from old + England. + + "Your advice relative to my conduct on board the convict-ship was + strictly followed; and every morning I prayed that I might keep it, + and every evening I thanked God for his help. I had much influence + with the female convicts who came out with me, and prevented many + murmurs and one outbreak among them. So that, you see, dear lady, + others reaped the benefit of your instructions as well as myself. + + "Captain Sumpter gave me a good character to the governor; so that + I was not two days upon the stores, but was taken off them by Mr. + John Palmer, a gentleman of the highest respectability in the + colony. He came out as purser in the _Sirius_, with Captain Arthur + Phillip and Captain John Hunter, in January, 1787. Captain Phillip + was the first governor of this place. Mrs. Palmer is very kind to + me, and is as benevolent as yourself. She is a niece of a famous + physician in London, Sir William Blizzard; and she says, dear lady, + that she has heard her uncle speak of you. Only think that I should + be so fortunate as to find a good mistress, who had some knowledge + of you, even in this distant land! I feel this a great blessing. + + "After the loss of the _Sirius_, on a reef off Norfolk Island, Mr. + and Mrs. Palmer undertook the management of the Female Orphan + Asylum. This institution was established by Governor King, who + purchased, for the residence of my master and mistress, the elegant + house in which they now live, of Lieutenant Kent, who returned to + England two years since in the _Buffalo_. He had built it entirely + at his own expense, but he found that the country did not agree + with him. + + "You know, my dear lady, how fond I always was of children, and + here I have many cheerful young faces around me. We have already + sixty female children, who are taken as good care of as if they + were all one family belonging to Mrs. Palmer. So you see how + happily I am employed. Have I not reason to be thankful to God for + His great mercies to so unworthy a creature as myself? I know you + will rejoice to hear of my situation. You desired me to write + anything I could for your instruction. I wish my opportunities were + greater, that my letter might be more entertaining; but Mrs. Palmer + has afforded me some facilities, and I hope, when I write again, to + give you the benefit of them. + + "This country is much more like England than I expected to find it. + Garden-stuff of all kinds, except gooseberries, and currants, and + apples, are abundant. The gardens, too, are remarkably beautiful; + the geraniums run up seven or eight feet in height, and look more + magnificent than those which I used to see in your own greenhouse. + The country is very woody, so that I cannot go out any distance + from Sydney without travelling through woods for miles. They are + many of them very picturesque, and quite alive with birds, of such + exquisite plumage that the eye is constantly dazzled by them. + + "I assure you, my dear lady, that, in taking a ramble through them + with my mistress and some of the elder orphans, I felt just as I + imagine your own dear children used to feel when they walked with + me to the Grove near Hog Island, I was so pleased with the birds, + and trees, and flowers. I only wish I could send you one of the + beautiful parrots of this country, but I have no means of so doing + at present, as my money is all laid out for my future benefit. I + have no money given to me for wages. I have board and lodging; and, + if I conduct myself well, Mrs. Palmer says she will lay up a little + store against the day of my emancipation or my marriage. With + God's help, in whom I trust, I am determined to be independent of + all men. I have no desire to be married and settled, as some people + seem to say I shall be. I have no wish of the kind, neither do I + now nor do I hope to desire any better situation than that I now + enjoy, unless it were a return to England. + + "I grieve to say, my dear lady, that this is one of the wickedest + places in the world. I never heard of one, excepting those of Sodom + and Gomorrah, which could come up to it in evil practices. People + are so bold, so shameless, and so sinful, that even crime is as + familiar as fashion in England. Religion is the last thing thought + of, even by the government, which sends out criminals that most + want it. The Rev. Mr. Johnson, who is almost the only clergyman in + the whole country, comes frequently to the Foundling Asylum; but he + tells my mistress that the town of Sydney is like a place of + demons. Government is at great expense in the police establishment, + to keep our poor bodies in subjection; but I am sure, if our souls + were but a little more thought of, government would find us ten + thousand times better subjects. + + "Is it not dreadful, dear lady, that in such a country as this so + many souls should utterly perish? Surely it will never be blessed + with the blessing from Heaven, until God shall induce our + government to send us out some able ministers of the Gospel. I will + write more upon this subject at another time. I trust in God, who + has brought me over the broad sea, that He will keep me from all + evil upon this wide land. + + "The wheat harvest was almost over when I landed. Wheat is here + eight shillings per bushel at this time. There are two crops, I + understand, each summer, one of wheat and another of Indian corn. I + am told that the winter is very short; I cannot give you any + certain information yet, as I have been only one month in the + country. This letter, for the same reason, will be but a poor one; + my next will, I hope, be more worthy your perusal. I will make + minutes, according to your wishes, of all things which come under + my observation. Never, never, my dearest lady, shall I forget your + goodness to me, and especially on the last day before I left + Ipswich. + + "All the things you gave me arrived in safety with me, and are of + great service to me. Oh! how I wish that many poor creatures, whom + I see around me, had some of the blessings which I have! There are + some who have been here for years, who have their poor heads + shaved, and are sent up the Coal River. They have to carry coals + from daylight until dark. They are badly fed; and though very bad + men, who actually sell their rations of bread for three days for a + little rum, yet they ought not to be left without instruction, as + they totally are, until they perish. + + "Norfolk Island is a terrible place to be sent to. Those only who + are incorrigible are sent to this place, with a steel collar round + their necks, to work in gangs. + + "I have no government work to do; nor has the officer of government + anything to do with me. When there is a general muster of the + convicts, then only I shall have to appear, and give account of + myself. Some days I am permitted to go and see a friend at a + distance, if I have any, either at Paramatta, twenty miles, Gabley, + thirty, or Hawkesbury, forty miles from Sydney; but then I shall + have to get a passport, or I should be taken up, and put into + prison as a runaway. A very little will get a person into prison + here; but it requires a great deal of interest to get him out + again. + + "I want to say a great deal more, but time will not permit me, for + I expect the ship to sail very soon, I have been very ill since I + came on shore. At one time I was thought to be dying; but by the + blessing of God and the attentions of my mistress, I am now strong + again. I was very well during my whole voyage, though we were + tossed about tremendously in the Bay of Biscay. I was very glad to + see land, after so many months' confinement; yet I should not mind + just such another voyage at this moment, if it were but to bring me + back again to dear old England. I cannot say yet that I like this + country, or that I think I ever shall; God only knows. The governor + has a great many very beautiful cows, and so has Mr. Palmer, who is + very partial to agricultural pursuits. There are a great many + horses at Sydney, and some very neat whiskeys and little + clay-carts. There are a great many passage-boats, but all numbered + and registered, and secured, lest the convicts should use them to + attempt their escape. + + "Pray, my dear madam, let good Doctor Stebbing have the other side + of this sheet. I hope this will find you and all your good family + well. Pray, my dear lady, do not forget your promise of writing to + me by the first transport-ship that comes out; and direct to me at + Mr. Palmer's, Female Orphan Asylum, Sydney; and with deep love to + all my friends, I remain + + "Your faithful servant, + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE." + +The following is her letter to Dr. Stebbing, written on the same sheet +of paper:-- + + "DEAR SIR, + + "This is to acquaint you with our safe landing at Sydney, on the + 20th of December, and that we all arrived in good health. Barker + bore the voyage the worst of the three, and was so terrified at the + sea that she could scarcely bear to look at it; and whenever it was + rough she would never be persuaded to come on deck. She used + frequently to cry out that she wished you were near her. She is + just the same as ever, now she is on land: I regret to say, no + better. Elizabeth Killet lives very near to me, and is very well. + She and I were both taken off the stores on the same day. We have + not to go to government work, as the horses do; but we have both + obtained respectable places, and I hope we shall continue in them. + + "I am sorry to say that Barker has to spin for government, her + character not being such as to deserve a good report: she is still + upon the stores. But she can get her stint of work done by one + o'clock if she chooses to work hard at it, and then her time is her + own till six. Pray, sir, give my kind remembrance to all my + fellow-prisoners, and tell any of them that may be sentenced to + come out to this country not to be dead-hearted, as I was, about + Botany Bay; for if they are sent out, and will only conduct + themselves well, they will be better off than in prison. + + "The greater part of this country is not yet explored; and if + inhabited, it is by natives of a very low caste and hideous + features. Those that I have already seen are of a very ferocious + aspect. They carry along with them spears of great length, made of + hard wood, and a sort of hatchet, made of bone, stone, or very hard + wood. They look half-starved, and have very long, lank visages, + most hideously distorted by various customs; such as knocking out a + front tooth to denote their arrival at manhood, painting their + brows, and putting quills through the cartilage which separates the + nostrils of their wide-distended noses. + + "Their females, I am told, are in a very degraded condition, and + are generally stolen from other tribes, and brutally treated, being + beaten into immediate subjection by their husbands, who steal them. + The men seem to me a very subtle race. If they meet an unarmed + white man at a distance from home, they will spear and rob him. + They behave themselves well enough when they come into the town, + and visit, as they do sometimes, the Female Orphan Asylum, where I + live. If they did not they would soon be punished; still they are + very sly and treacherous, and can take up things with their long + toes as easily as we do the same with our hands. + + "They often have a grand fight among themselves, either to gratify + their leader or to settle some dispute between the tribes. Twenty + or thirty join in the fight, whilst all the others look on, as if + it was only a game of play; but some of them are sure to be killed. + There is nothing said or done to them for killing each other in + this manner. What horrible barbarians they must be! + + "The crops of wheat are very good in this country. Forty bushels + per acre are commonly grown; it is a very fertile place, and + fruitful in every respect. I will write more fully of the country + another time. Population increases rapidly. Some things, which we + cannot obtain, are very dear: tea is 25_s._ per pound; sugar, + 2_s._; salt beef, 1_s._; and mutton, 2_s._ per pound. A pair of + shoes, 15_s._; 10_s._ a pair of stockings; 5_s._ for a yard of + common print; calico, 3_s._ per yard; soap, 3_s._ per pound; + onions, 6_d._ per pound; potatoes, 2_d._ per pound; a cabbage, + 6_d._; rum, 5_s._ per bottle; a quart of porter, 2_s._ Fish is as + cheap as anything we can buy; but we have no money here to trade + with. + + "Pray, my dear sir, remember me to Mrs. Ripshaw, and tell her that + one of Mr. Ripshaw's daughters, who lives up in the country here, + paid a visit to the Orphan Asylum last week. She asked me, when she + heard my voice, if I was not a Suffolk woman. This led to my + knowledge of her being the daughter of Mr. Ripshaw's first wife. + Pray, write to me as soon as you can. I shall never forget your + goodness to me, from the day I rode the pony to your door till the + day I left Ipswich. I shall never forget your dear daughter, so + clever, so kind to every one. Remember me to your faithful servant, + who was such a friend to me, and give my duty to all inquiring + friends. We had not a single death in our ship, though we had near + two hundred females on board. + + "Just as I am writing this a messenger has come flying into the + town to say that the Blacks have killed eight men, women, and + children. One man's arms they have cut, and broke his bones, and + have done the same by his legs up to his knees. The poor fellow is + just now carried past to the hospital, but he looked more dead than + alive, and death would be a blessing to him. The governor has sent + out troops after them, with orders to shoot all they can find. I + hope I may be able to give you a better account of the natives when + I write again. Pray send me word if you know where Dinah Parker + and her child were sent to. Give my love to my uncle and aunt + Leader. My brother Edward should not have deserted me; I always + loved him affectionately. God bless you, dear doctor, and direct + your letter to me at Mr. John Palmer's, Female Orphan Asylum, + Sydney; and ever think of me as your faithful and humble servant, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "To JOHN COBBOLD, ESQ., Cliff, Ipswich. + "Favoured by CAPTAIN SUMPTER." + +By her good conduct in her new situation as cook and superintendent over +the dairy of Mr. John Palmer, she was found to be a very useful and +confidential person, and was soon looked upon as likely to be a very +valuable wife for a free settler. Her fondness for children, and her +management of them, came under the particular notice of Mrs. Palmer, +who, without any family of her own, had from the most humane and +benevolent motives undertaken the entire management of the Orphan +Asylum. She found Margaret as willing and as well qualified an assistant +as she could wish for. + +This school was founded in the year 1800, by Governor King. It was for +sixty female orphans. A grant of 15,000 acres of land was given to this +foundation for the maintenance and support of the children. They were to +be educated usefully and respectably, brought up to industrious habits, +and to receive the best religious instruction which could be obtained +for them. Few things in Sydney gave such general satisfaction as this +benevolent institution; few things at that period more tended to the +amelioration of the conduct of those who, from being the offscourings of +such a densely-peopled country as England, were of course so deeply +depraved as to be very difficult to recover from their evil habits. +Destitute female children were taken into this establishment. A portion +was given to each one brought up in this place of 100 acres of land, on +her marriage-day, provided she married a free settler, and was herself a +good character. This was a great inducement for the elder ones to set a +good example, as well as to induce young free men to be approved of by +the governor as worthy to receive so great a boon. Hence, in later days, +have arisen many sterling characters in the neighbourhood of Sydney. + +In this benevolent arrangement, the governor was mainly prompted and +assisted by a free settler, who had been eight years in the colony, and +was one of the first who arrived in the _Bellona_ transport, in 1793, +and settled upon a spot then called Liberty Plains. This was no other +than the reader's friend, and we hope his favourite, John Barry, whose +steady and upright character was observed by the governor; he was taken +into his confidence, and was a most admirable pattern for all settlers. +For his strict integrity and early business habits, he was chosen as the +great government agent for the distribution of lands; and he it was who +suggested to Governor King the plan of forming this Orphan +Establishment. In the sale of every 180 acres to free settlers, this +gentleman was allowed a certain percentage, which in a short time +realized to him a considerable property, in addition to that which he +had already acquired. + +John Barry was also the first to propose, and to assist with his wealth, +the building of the first church, that of St. John's, at Sydney. He +often lamented that government would not make a noble grant of land for +church purposes, and in that early day he tried hard for a public grant +for the Church of England, and mourned over the supineness of colonial +legislation upon such a vital subject. Had this good man lived but to +see the arrival of a British Bishop of Australia, it would have added +one more joy to the many which his good conduct provided for him; +indeed, he always said that such would be the case. Mr. Barry had a very +handsome house at Windsor, on the green hills of Hawkesbury; also a fine +estate, consisting of the most extensive pastures and the finest corn +district in the whole region. + +John Barry had kept his solemn word with Margaret, and had never entered +into any matrimonial alliance, though he was looked upon as the most +eligible match in the whole colony. + +And this was the person formerly known to the reader as Jack Barry, the +young farming lad, the son of the miller at Levington Creek, on the +River Orwell. With small means, good introductions, steady conduct, and +active habits, this youth rose from the day he purchased his first +hundred acres in the colony until the day of his death. Two of his +sisters had gone out to him before Margaret's committal to prison for +any offence, and all that they could tell him of her was that she was at +service at the Cliff at Ipswich, and that Laud was in the British navy. +This gave him unfeigned pleasure, though it did not permit him to hope +that he should ever see Margaret. + +Had he been certified of Laud's death, there is little doubt that he +would have returned to England. But his own family, in their +correspondence with him, never mentioned either one or the other person. + +Indeed, after Margaret became so notorious in the county of Suffolk, +they never named her to him, or sent him the papers which mentioned any +word concerning her. He very seldom named her to his sisters. He knew +nothing of her career, and she had actually been living some years +within a short distance of his own residence in Australia, without his +either seeing or hearing anything of her. In her most confidential +communications with Mrs. Palmer, she had never mentioned his name, or an +explanation must have taken place. She had the narrowest chance of +meeting him in July, 1803, when Mr. Barry came to inspect the Asylum. A +day only before he came, Margaret had been sent to a free settler's, a +relation of Mrs. Palmer's, who had the misfortune to lose his wife, and +being left with two very small children, he wanted a person like +Margaret to take care of them, and to superintend his domestic concerns. +Mrs. Palmer consented to let Margaret go, if she would, at least for a +time, until her relative could meet with an eligible person. This +gentleman's name was Poinder, and his house was at Richmond Hill. +Margaret did not raise any objection, though all felt sorry to part with +her from the Asylum; she went to oblige her mistress, and received a +handsome present from her at parting. + +The first money which this faithful creature received was devoted to the +purchase of many curious things for her dear mistress in England. These +she treasured up, anticipating the pleasure of forwarding them from +Sydney, when she had obtained sufficient to fill a chest. + +Though many letters and presents had been sent from her friends in +England, it would appear by a letter to her uncle Leader, dated December +20, 1804, that she never received any of them. That uncle conveyed her +letter to Mrs. Cobbold, who took a copy of it, from which it is here +transcribed. Three years had passed away since the date of her first +letter, and the poor creature had been vexed greatly at the non-arrival +of any tidings from her friends. + + "SYDNEY, December 20th, 1804. + + "MY DEAR UNCLE AND AUNT, + + "With great pleasure I once more take up my pen to write to you, + and all your dear children, as well as all inquiring friends, + hoping that they may all be in as good health as I am at the time + this letter leaves this country. I bless God, dear uncle, for his + past and present mercies towards me, which have been and are very + great. I am as young as I ever was; indeed I may say that I am in + spirit, if not in body, younger, freer, and happier, than I ever + was at any former period of my life. I should be almost ready to + jump over St. John's Church, which is the first church built in + this country, if I could only hear from you, or some of my dear + friends in England. You may well suppose how overjoyed I should be + to snatch up any tidings of any of you. + + "I cannot think why I have not heard from some of you. England is, + I know, in a very disturbed state and engaged in a maritime war. + This is the fourth time I have written. I sent a letter by Captain + Sumpter, on the return of the vessel I came by; my next I sent by + the _Glutton_, and my next by the _Calcutta_. I did hope that I + should have received a letter before this time. My anxieties have + been so great as almost to make me go out of my mind; for I see so + many letters arriving from London, but none for poor me. I should + be unhappy indeed if I thought that no friends in England cared for + me. + + "I am so grieved and disappointed that my dearly loved mistress has + not written to me once since we parted! I cannot bring myself to + believe that if she is alive, and is able, she has not already done + so. I fear that some accident has occurred to the ship by which she + has written to me, and that she is waiting for some reply. Do not + neglect me this time, dear uncle, for it makes me very unhappy to + think that I cannot hear from you, or any of my friends in England. + + "I am in great hopes that, if I continue in the same state that I + am now in, and, if it please God, have the same approbation of my + employers, who are high in the governor's favour, I shall have the + unspeakable joy of seeing you all again. The thought of such a + blessing makes my hand tremble, and the tears run down my cheeks so + fast, I cannot see the end of my pen. Governor King is a very good + man; he is very merciful to those who deserve it, even to those who + are, as I am, transported for life. There are many who have been + granted their free pardon with power to settle in the colony. Some + who have distinguished themselves by exemplary conduct, and have + rendered public service to the settlement, not only receive their + free pardon, but are permitted to return, if they wish it, to their + native land. The anticipation of such an event would prompt me to + any service. + + "The young man who brings this letter to England was transported + for life. He was in the governor's service, and discovered a + robbery of the government stores, for which he has received a full + and free pardon. He lived one year at John Palmer's, Esq., where I + have been living; his name is William Underwood. He was very much + approved while in my master's service, and was taken thence into + the governor's establishment. He is a good young man, and was + betrayed into a crime by a butler, who employed him to rob his + master, in London. He promises to convey this letter to England, + and to post it for you, so that I do hope this will certainly come + to hand. + + "I have left Mrs. Palmer's service for a time, at her own + particular request, and am now living as housekeeper to a young + friend of hers, who married her niece. He is a free settler. His + wife was a very sickly lady, and had, since she resided in this + spot, fallen into a rapid decline; indeed she was in a poor state + of health during her sea-voyage. She was a good and amiable lady, + and her loss is a great misfortune to the young man, and much + sorrow to my dear Mrs. Palmer. + + "The free settlers are the great farmers of this country; they have + one hundred acres of land as a grant, with power to purchase as + many more as they can; they have to clear away the woods, and burn + up the stumps, before they can grow corn, though the swine thrive + well in the thick bush. We begin to set wheat in March or April, + and the harvest comes on in November; and as soon as that is + cleared off, they set fire to the stubble, and burn it on the land, + and then put in fresh corn directly. They do not plough it, but + dibble the corn in without cleaning it, as the burning straw + destroys the roots of all the weeds. + + "In clearing new land, it is broken up by men with very large hoes, + and it is the hardest work that is done in the country. A great + price is paid for this labour, and men work too hard at it. They + frequently destroy their health and their lives, by their + over-exertion to get rich enough to buy farms for themselves. This + has been done by some robust men, but others fall a prey to the + toil. + + "This is a very dangerous country at present to settle in. The + natives, who are almost black, wear no covering, but go, most of + them, in a state of nudity. They paint their bodies with a + light-coloured ochre, marking out the ribs and bones so strongly, + that at a little distance in the shade they look like so many + moving skeletons. They are a most miserable, half-starved race of + men, but very active, very treacherous, and very bold. They seem to + have no shame. They used to bear a deadly hatred to the white + people; and if all I hear be true of some of the dealings of our + colonists with these poor wretches, I am not surprised at it. + + "They are much more reconciled to us than they were, and actually + send some of their young children to be instructed in our schools. + I do not think, however, that the race will ever amalgamate with + our own, it appears such an inferior and unsettled one. As we + advance our settlers towards the Blue Mountains, these people will + recede from us, and being divided into many tribes hostile to each + other, will never be able to unite their forces against us. + + "This country is full of curious animals. I have already collected + some skins for my dear mistress at the Cliff. I never get a fresh + one without blessing her name, and hoping that, poor as I am, I may + yet give her some little pleasure. + + "Among the snakes, few are venomous. I have seen but one, which I + am told is a very dangerous foe. Him I had a personal conflict + with, and thank God I came off victorious. I was walking with two + young children of my master's, not very far from the newly-enclosed + lands. The children were a few yards in advance of me, gathering + flowers for me, when a large black snake flew at me from the foot + of a tree, just as if it had been a dog. I had nothing in my hand + but a thin stick which I had broken off one of the fresh shoots of + a stump of a tree, which had been cut down the last winter; but I + was afterwards told that it was the very best weapon of defence + that I could have. He rose upon his tail, and darted at my face, + as if he aimed at my eyes; but just as he came within reach, I gave + him a cut over a white line at the back of his neck, which + attracted my attention; he made a beautiful curve, like the bending + of a fountain, when it has reached its height, and then fell in a + straight stiff line, licking the dust. + + "It was providential that I hit him where I did, for my master told + me it was the only place that I could have killed him on so + suddenly. He told me that he was the most venomous snake in the + country, and that, had I not broken his neck as I did, either the + children or myself would have been killed. His bite is attended + with swelling and blackness of the body, and when the sun goes down + death ensues. How merciful that the dear children had passed by him + without provoking an attack! The whole of that night I did nothing + but lie and think of this event, and thank God for my deliverance. + + "Some of the snakes which I have seen are full twelve feet long, + and thicker than a stout man's arm. These are not venomous, but + they would soon strangle a child. Some of our workmen have had + severe encounters with them. + + "I have collected a good many curiosities of this country, and have + skinned the birds and smaller animals myself, and preserved their + skins, as dear Doctor Stebbing directed me; and if I can once get a + letter from England to assure me that I live in the memory of my + friends, I will soon pack them off to my good and learned mistress. + People laugh at me sometimes for giving the value of a quarter of + an acre of land for the skin of a dead animal; but they know not + the pleasure I derive from the joy of pleasing those I love. + + "Give my love to my aunt and the dear children, and for their + sakes, as well as my own, let them see this long letter. It may + teach them to be very thankful to God; then they will bless poor + Margaret, their foster-mother, and feel glad that they are so + beloved by one so far away from them. + + "This is a very hot country. In the summer, the ground actually + scorches the feet whilst we walk upon it, and creates great + blisters, especially where shoe-leather, which is very scarce and + dear, does not protect the feet. In winter it is very cold. Not + that there is any quantity of snow, but there are very white + frosts, which penetrate to the inmost recesses of our chambers. It + is much colder and hotter than it used to be, since the country is + cleared of its shady woods, and is so much more open. It will be a + very populous and improving country. Even within a year or two, the + people seem to be more moral and domesticated than they were; but + it is a terrible place for drunkards. + + "We want British clergymen; good men of real steady principles, + such as you have in England. The governor orders the Bible to be + read at stated times to the different gangs of convicts; but then + it is a convict who can read better than the rest, and they make a + joke of him! Oh! what a sin it is that so little provision should + be made for that which would be the surest way to reform the + convicts, and to preserve their souls alive! I pray continually for + friends to help us. + + "The trees grow very fast in this country. A few pear-trees and + apple-trees are getting up, and the vine flourishes wherever it is + planted. The oak grows luxuriantly; peaches and apricots thrive; + but gooseberries and currants do not seem to suit the soil. Money + is very scarce. Copper coins are almost the value of silver, and + gold is a thing that I seldom see. Those who trade with India or + China are the only people in the colony who use it. Tea is dearer + here than it is in Old England, though we are so much nearer to the + countries where it is grown. It is a matter of luxurious indulgence + which convicts and servants do not at present enjoy. The native + flax of Norfolk Island is the finest which we can obtain. You must + not suppose that we are badly off, though some commodities may be + very dear; for this country will be, if the world stand, one of the + richest on the face of the earth: oh that it may be one of the + best! At present it is one of the worst, though improving. + + "Sarah, or, as she calls herself, Elizabeth Barker, and Elizabeth + Killet, are both living. One is doing well; I regret to state the + other does badly. + + "If the young man who brings this should write to you from London, + send an answer to him directly. He intends to return and settle + here. He is a good young man. Singularly enough, he returns to + England to gratify his aged parents with a sight of himself, and + intends to try and persuade one of his female cousins to come out + with him. + + "Pray go to my dear Mrs. Cobbold, and tell her I long to hear of + her and her family. The same of Dr. Stebbing. Be sure and direct + your letters for me at Mrs. Palmer's Orphan Asylum, Port Jackson, + Sydney. Let all your letters be left at Government House. Mrs. + Palmer will take care of any letters for me. Pray God bless and + keep you all, is the constant prayer of + + "Your affectionate niece, + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "To MR. WILLIAM LEADER, + "Brandiston, near Woodbridge, Suffolk, + "England." + +By her next letter it appears that Margaret was housekeeper to a young +widower. After living there about one year, her principles were put to a +trial, under which any less firm and stable than hers would have +succumbed. The young widower, finding what a valuable person Margaret +was, resolved to marry her. He did not think it at all necessary to pay +court to one who he thought would feel herself honoured by the proposal; +and as he fully intended to make her the mistress of his establishment, +he at once said to her-- + +"Young woman, I am resolved to marry you, and make you mistress of my +house at Richmond Hill. You need not trouble yourself to make any +preparations. I will see the Rev. Mr. Johnson, the chaplain, and +to-morrow you shall be mistress of my establishment." + +Startled as Margaret was by this wholly unexpected offer, and by the +terms in which it was couched, she hesitated not a moment in her reply. + +"I have no intention, sir, whatever," said she, "to marry any one, but +most certainly should not think of marrying you. I was sent here by your +relative, Mrs. Palmer, in the capacity of your servant, and I am willing +to fulfil the duties of that situation; but I should act with great +duplicity towards my mistress, if, without either yourself or me holding +any conversation with her upon the subject, I were to marry you. But, to +be candid with you at once, sir, I tell you I have no intention to +marry, and I will not comply with your demands in this respect." + +As may be supposed, the young man was not a little astonished; but all +he said was-- + +"Then, if you do not, you may go back to Mrs. Palmer, and say I sent +you." + +This was quite enough for Margaret, who immediately packed up her few +treasures, and started off for Sydney; and her kind friend, Mrs. Palmer, +who was equally astonished and pleased at her conduct, received her +again in a more confidential capacity. + +One thing poor Margaret had deeply to regret about this time, and it +occasioned her many tears of unaffected sorrow. She had, with +persevering care, and at serious cost, collected a great many +curiosities, seeds of plants, shells, fossils, minerals, skins of birds +and lesser animals, all which she had treasured up with the most lively +hope that they would one day reach her dear mistress in England. She +packed them in a strong box, and paid a man to carry them for her to +Mrs. Palmer's, at Sydney; but they never arrived. The man to whom they +had been entrusted broke open the box, sold the contents to a settler, +and invented a plausible tale of his being robbed by some bushmen. + +The name of the gentleman who made Margaret the offer of marriage, above +referred to, was Mr. John Poinder. He died about two years afterwards, +but left his aunt, Mrs. Palmer, sole executrix of his property, and +commended his children to her care. Margaret then returned to Richmond +Hill, to superintend the affairs of the house and the management of the +children, until they should be sent to school. + +It may be here mentioned as one of those singular coincidences to which +Margaret Catchpole's life had been subjected, that not only on this +occasion of her absence from the Asylum, but on the only other occasion +that she had ever been absent from it, Mr. John Barry visited the +institution, stayed there some time, and left it, without receiving the +smallest intimation that it was, or had been, the residence of the woman +on whom his affections had been fixed from the first moment he beheld +her, and had never swerved up to the period of which we write; and the +subsequent events which we have to record render this coincidence still +more remarkable. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +REPENTANCE AND AMENDMENT + + +Before Margaret left Sydney the second time for Richmond Hill, she had +the inexpressible delight of receiving a ship-chest from England, +containing letters and presents from her beloved mistress and friends. +The good Mrs. Palmer was requested to be present at the opening of the +chest; and never, never did the eager school-boy unpack his parcel from +home with more intense delight than this poor young woman did the box +from England. + +But her first interest was directed towards the packet of letters which +the box contained; and, until she had devoured the contents of _them_, +all else was a matter of comparative indifference to her. There were +letters from her uncle and aunt Leader, from Dr. Stebbing, from several +of her fellow-servants at the Cliff; but above all, in Margaret's +estimation, there were letters from her dear mistress--the excellent +lady of the Cliff--to whose kindness she owed and felt such lasting +gratitude. + +The reader need not be troubled with a description of the numerous +articles of wearing apparel which the box contained; nor is it needful +to do more than mention that, besides the larger objects, there was an +inner case, containing combs, thimbles, needles, netting needles and +pins, knitting needles, pins, threads, papers of Dutch tape, of Indian +cotton, of coarse threads, pincushions, scissors, knives, and all sorts +of those stores which are so precious to a housewife, when at a distance +from the ordinary sources where they are to be procured. + +Poor Margaret could neither eat nor drink till she had devoured the +contents of her letters. She wept so much during their perusal, that she +was forced to ask Mrs. Palmer to read them to her. This she did with +most sincere pleasure, for they afforded her own good heart instruction +as well as gratification. The letters written to Margaret were such as +would have gratified any intellectual and benevolent mind. They were +much admired by all who read them, but by none more than by the faithful +creature to whom they were directed. + +The following letter was addressed by Margaret Catchpole to Mrs. +Cobbold, shortly after the receipt of the box of treasures just alluded +to:-- + + "October 18th, 1807. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "With the purest pleasure I again seize an opportunity to write to + you. I feel it my duty to do so, as you are my dearest friend upon + earth. Sincerely do I thank God for your health and happiness, and + for that of all your good family. I hope and trust in God that I + shall soon hear from you again, for it is my greatest comfort in + this distant land. Oh, my dear lady, how grieved I am to tell you + that there are so many depraved creatures in this country! I have + been robbed of all my collection of curiosities, which I had been + saving up, according to your wishes, and which I intended to have + sent you by the next ship. I am sure you would have thought them + valuable, as they were all so perfect, and the birds in such good + order, skinned, and dried, and perfumed. I will endeavour to + collect them again; but I am so sorry, when I had collected so + many, and had such great pleasure in them, that I should lose them + all through the artful conduct of wicked men! + + "But I will soon be at work again for you. I have no greater joy + than to be waiting upon you; and everything I get, which I think + will be valuable to you, gives me increased satisfaction. You can + scarcely believe what happiness I experience in devoting any + portion of my time to your service. You are never out of my + thoughts, and always in my prayers. My ideas turn toward you from + every place, and in almost everything I see. When I think of the + troubles and trials you must have, with eighteen children around + you, I wonder you can at all think of me. But, dear lady, I do feel + such an interest about you and your family, that I am thankful + whenever you name any of them; and I was so delighted with your + description of them all! Always tell me about them. I sincerely + desire to know how Miss Anne is, and Miss Harriet, and Miss Sophia. + + "Have you any knowledge, my dear lady, of Governor Bligh? Alas! I + have lost a good friend in Governor King. I do think that if a + petition were presented to him in my behalf, so well known as I am + to the late governor, something might be done for me. Every one + tells me that he says my conduct has been so uniformly consistent + and good that I deserve a reward. But it requires friends near the + fountain of mercy to make its stream flow towards such as I. I + should be almost ready to die with joy if a pardon were to come to + me, with permission to return to England. I would then gladly come, + and live and die in your service. + + "Since I last wrote to you, I have been living again with Mrs. + Palmer. I sent you, by the ship _Buffalo_, a small case, containing + the skins of the rarest birds found in this country, together with + an opossum, of a dark colour, and very fierce; also a species of + rat, which very much resembles a diminutive hyena. You will find + two large, magnificent birds, called here the mountain pheasant; + they are only like our English bird in size. The plume of feathers + in the tail of the cock bird would form the most graceful ornament + for a queen's head-dress. Two noble feathers, somewhat like a + peacock's, only more brilliant and various in their colours, + surrounded by the most glittering silver lines of curving feathers, + fine as the prairie grass, and sparkling like the waves of the + ocean, ornament the tail of the male bird, whilst the female is + only remarkable for the elegance of her shape, and not for the + beauty of her plumage. + + "In my opinion, this bird is the peafowl of this country, and not a + pheasant. Early in the morning, I have seen him spring from the + thickest brushwood, and wing his arrow-like flight to the tallest + tree, and there he appears to mimic the notes of the various + songsters around him. But the most beautiful attitude that I once + saw him in beats everything I ever beheld of what men term + politeness. I have heard and have read of delicate attentions paid + to our sex by men of noble and generous dispositions; but I + scarcely ever heard of such devoted attention as I one day + witnessed in this noble bird towards his mate. I saw her sitting in + the heat of the meridian sun upon her nest, and the cock bird + seated near her, with his tail expanded, like a bower overshadowing + her; and, as the sun moved, so did he turn his elegant parasol to + guard her from his rays. Now and then he turned his bright eye to + see if she was comfortable, and she answered his inquiry with a + gentle note and rustle of her feathers. + + "Was not this a sight calculated to teach us all gentleness? Dear + lady, as I looked upon it, the tears came warmly down my cheeks, as + I thought of your good husband and yourself; and I dreamed of your + writing a poem upon this subject, and reading it to the young + ladies in the school-room. I had often wondered what use the tail + of this bird could be to him. If this be one of its general uses, + surely it is truly ornamental and useful. I hope these birds will + come safe to hand. Captain Brooks of the _Buffalo_, promised me + faithfully that he would himself forward them into Suffolk. The + thought that they may reach you and give you pleasure will make me + happy for many a long day. Owing to the late floods, every thing is + become very dear: pork, 2_s._; beef and mutton, 2_s._ 3_d._; soft + sugar, 6_s._ and 8_s._; tea, L1 10_s._ per pound; a bushel of + wheat, L1 5_s._; printed cotton, 10_s._ to 12_s._ per yard; shoes, + for females, 13_s._ per pair. Scarcely any linen cloth to be had. + Newspapers, of any date, 1_s._ a-piece. + + "But your chest, just now arrived, contains so many things of + value, that my good Mrs. Palmer has at once proposed that I should + at once open a little shop at Richmond Hill. I wrote word, in my + uncle's letter, or in my last to you, about my offer of marriage, + but the gentleman is since dead, and has left his property to the + management of Mrs. Palmer. She says I shall have a cottage of my + own, with land attached to it, and begin business for myself. You + know not, dear lady, how valuable all those things are which you + have sent to me. But your letters, and those of Mrs. Sleorgin--oh, + what a comfort they have been to me! + + "I had been very ill before their arrival. About eight months ago, + I took a long journey, for Mrs. Palmer, to arrange something about + Mr. Poinder's children. I walked a distance of thirty miles, and + over-exerted and heated myself very much, so that my body threw out + large blisters, just as if I had been burnt with small coals, and I + was so swelled out that I thought I should have lost my life. I was + under the care of a Mr. Mason, a very clever surgeon; and Mrs. + Palmer was very kind and attentive to me. Blessing be to God! I + recovered; but I am still very subject to cold and inflammation. I + am not permitted to go near the fire. + + "I am to go to Richmond Hill as soon as I can, which will be very + soon. I will write to you again when I am settled there. Only let + me thank you, as I ought, for your great goodness to one so + unworthy of it. If I should prosper, so as to get enough to keep + myself from starving in my old days, how shall I bless God for + raising me up such a friend as you have been to me! + + "Mrs. Palmer says she is very sorry to part with me, but she wishes + to serve me. She is so good to me! She was so pleased to find I was + so respected by such friends as the ladies who wrote to me. She + said she never read such beautiful letters as yours and good Mrs. + Sleorgin's, and asked me to let her take a copy of them. She had a + great desire to publish them in the Sydney paper, as she thought + they would do so much good to others as well as to myself. She + blessed your spirit, and desired me to say, that she considered me + worthy of all the favour which your generous hand had bestowed upon + me. This was her saying; but it is not my opinion, though I may say + I wish I was worthy. She desired me to say, that if you should see + Sir William Blizzard, a physician in London, he would tell you all + about her. She has promised to do all she can to obtain my + restoration to society. If I could once return to my own native + land, what a happy woman I should be! You add much to my comfort + here; for whenever I have a few moments' spare time, I am sure to + be seeking for seeds, shells, insects, or curiosities of any kind; + and the thought of whom I am serving makes me feel very happy. + Thank God! I keep myself free from all men. I have formed no + acquaintance with any man; and I may sincerely confess to you, my + dear lady, that my early attachment and deep-felt disappointment + have deadened the feelings of my heart to any further matrimonial + speculations. I do not think that any man in the colony could + persuade me to marry. My dear Mrs. Palmer has often spoken to me on + the subject, and I have never concealed the fact, that to my first + attachment I owe my present abode in this colony as a convict. I am + wise enough now to see my own follies, and I pray to God for His + forgiveness. In this colony there are few that remain single from + choice, old or young. Girls of fifteen years become mothers before + they are able to take care of themselves; and I may state it as a + curious fact, that very many whom you would suppose too old to be + mothers, have young families increasing around them. + + "Vegetation in this clime is very abundant; but there are some + fearful drawbacks to our reaping its fruits. We may have a good + crop of grain on the ground to-day, and to-morrow it may be all cut + down by a hail-storm, or destroyed by a blight, or swept away by a + flood. On Monday last, the 16th of this month, a hail-storm passed + over this place, and cut down the wheat just as it was in full + blossom. The stones which fell from the clouds were as big as + pigeons' eggs, and you may imagine the mischief which ensued. Great + numbers of fowls and small cattle were killed. The harvest will be + about six weeks hence, and will be a lamentably deficient crop. Now + begins our hot season. We dread the attacks of ophthalmia, as the + surgeons call it; we call it commonly the blight in our eyes. We + can find no remedy for it but patience. In one day our eyelids are + so swelled that we cannot see. With some it lasts a week, with + others a month, according to the state of the constitution of the + sufferer. It is a very irritating and painful disease, and none are + such dreadful sufferers as those who most deserve it, the habitual + drunkards, of which class I regret to state there are too many in + this country. + + "The natives are much more tractable than they used to be, and not + so savage and uncivilized. They will work but little; I can get + from them, however, the most rare skins of wild animals, such as + the settlers have not patience to pursue. They boast that the white + man is made for drudgery, and the black for liberty. He can roam + through his native woods and subsist without labour, whilst he + supposes that we enjoy no freedom. They have not left off their + barbarous habit of fighting and killing each other for a public + exhibition. I remember that you used to make the young ladies read + of the tournaments in the reign of Elizabeth, and how the knights + sometimes killed each other in this way. Surely those ancestors of + the English had some such spirit as these free blacks of Australia + in this day. These people form a stately circle, and contend most + skilfully and magnanimously, by fixed and settled rules of combat; + and I assure you, dear lady, that their deportment, at such times, + would be no discredit to the most gallant knights of Europe. + Gallantry towards their females, however, is at a very low ebb; + yet, for the honour of the sex, they take no delight in these + pageants of blood and murder. In this respect, degraded as they are + in other things, they are not so bad as some were in the ages of + chivalry. + + "It will not much interest you to know of our farming here, but + some of your friends may like to hear a word about it, though from + such an ignorant being as myself. The price of farming stock is + very high: a sow sells for L10; a ewe for L7; a milch-goat, L3 + 10_s._; a cow from L60 to L70; a good horse from L100 to L150. But + things will not continue in this state many years, for this is a + most prolific land. You will be more glad to hear of our great + variety of botanical plants. My good lady, Mrs. Palmer, has + promised that her friend, Mr. Mason, who is a good botanist, shall + affix the proper names to each of the specimens which I send. + + "Honoured madam, give my duty to Mrs. Sleorgin, and say how happy I + am to hear from her, and am glad that she approves of my conduct + and pursuits. I love her good advice, and endeavour to keep it. I + am so sorry that I was robbed of all my first treasures for you. My + tears, however, would not bring them back again. I will try again. + Give my duty to dear Doctor Stebbing. Oh that I could see him with + his dog and gun, upon some of our plains, or beating in the bush of + this country! I would get him to kill me many a beautiful bird to + enrich your collection. Give my duty to his daughter. Is poor old + Robinson Crusoe alive? and is Jack Whatcheer? Alas! their memory + brings back painful recollections. So, my dear lady, hoping to hear + from you again, accept the love and duty of your humble and + constant servant, + + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "To J. COBBOLD, ESQ., Cliff, Ipswich." + +From this letter it appears that Margaret was then upon the eve of +leaving Sydney for her cottage at Richmond Hill, some forty or fifty +miles up the country. There were a small village and store-rooms on the +banks of the river, and Margaret rented a small house and about twenty +acres of land of her friend Mrs. Palmer, at a very moderate price. Part +of her house was formed into a shop, in which all her little stock in +trade was placed and her little capital invested. The goods which were +sent her from England formed a valuable assortment; and she began by +offering for sale small portions of her general stock, so that her +customers might have the same articles upon another application. Her +house was situated in a very beautiful spot, commanding an extensive +view over a well-watered plain, with the ever-blue mountains in the +distance. + +Margaret remained at Richmond Hill, as her own independent mistress, for +five years. About two years after her residence at this place she wrote +again to her mistress, and sent a small drawing of her cottage, which +was taken by one of Mrs. Palmer's friends for this very purpose. + +The mountain pheasants, which she speaks of in the following letter, +duly arrived by the _Buffalo_. They were splendid specimens, and were in +a very perfect state. They were preserved in the author's family for +many years, and may now be seen at the public museum at Ipswich, in +company with many thousands of valuable specimens. The bird itself is +now become very scarce. A live specimen has never been brought to +England.[11] + + "RICHMOND HILL, Oct. 8th, 1809. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "I take up my pen again with new and increased delight, to say that + I duly received another box from you, which arrived at Sydney with + everything in it, according to the inventory, quite safe. A + thousand thanks for it, my dear lady, and all its valuable + contents. It was three years last June since I sent you, according + to your request, a number of our native productions. I had a cedar + case made on purpose, strong and stoutly ironed. I was told that it + would preserve the goods in a more perfect state than an oaken one; + but as you say nothing about its arrival in your letter, I fear that + it is lost. + + "I sent it on board the _Buffalo_, the ship in which Governor King + left the colony. It may, perhaps, yet reach you. I hope it will. + There were many of our Sydney newspapers in it, and a host of + birds' skins, weapons and knives, and curiosities, which I obtained + from the natives near the Blue Mountains. I can see a great part of + the chain from my chamber-window. Mrs. Palmer undertook to see the + case forwarded to you. + + "This is the second great collection I have made for you; and I + shall not, dear lady, forward any more until I hear of the safe + arrival of the last, it is so very disheartening to find all my + labour and love thrown away. Oh! how I wish that I could be + permitted to bring a cargo home for you! I would part with + everything I have most gladly for such a purpose, but I fear it + will never be; and sometimes my poor heart feels broken, as I sit + alone, pondering over all my hope and fears. + + "My dear landlady, Mrs. Palmer, has given me such a nice drawing of + my cottage and the surrounding country for you! I shall send it; + and I hope you will not think me presumptuous if I ask for one of + the dear, dear Cliff, as I know, my dear lady, that you can so + easily do one for me. If one of the young ladies would be so kind + as to copy it, then I could give Mrs. Palmer one by way of return. + Yours shall hang over my chimney-place; and when I look at it I + shall think of those happy days which I spent there with you for my + friend and mistress. + + "Ah! dear lady, when I was learning so many good lessons under your + eye, little did I think that I should reap the profit thereof in a + foreign land. Your word of approbation was a sort of foretaste of + that which, I hope and trust, we shall both rejoice to hear, 'Well + done, good and faithful servant!' + + "Dear lady, I am very contented, and am getting on well, but we + have all had severe misfortune in this district: first, by the + floods; secondly, by fire; and thirdly, by such a hurricane as + levelled whole acres of timber-trees of enormous size. We were + afraid to remain indoors lest our houses should fall on our heads; + and out of doors we could hardly stand at all. Great trees swept by + us as if they had been straws. + + "The flood in the month of May distressed us very much; but that on + the 31st of July and the 1st of August, the days after the high + wind, was dreadful. It was the greatest ever experienced by any of + the settlers, though the natives speak of one which covered all the + plain from the mountains, and was deeper than our church is high. + The one I have so lately witnessed went over the tops of the houses + on the plain; and many poor creatures were on their chimneys crying + out for mercy, and for boats to go to them. It was shocking to hear + their cries, and it made me feel so wretched at not being able to + relieve them. It was very dangerous to approach them, for sometimes + the eddies were so strong round their houses that boats were swept + away, or swamped in the attempt. I saw one boat completely sunk by + a tree falling upon it, just as it was passing; and had not another + boat been near to take the sufferers off the boughs upon which they + had climbed, they must all have perished. + + "One man, of the name of Thomas Lacey, and his wife and family, + were carried away in a barn. They got upon the mow, and broke a + hole through the thatch. I saw them, dear creatures, holding up + their hands to heaven as they passed us on the sweeping flood, and + imploring our help. It made my spirit rise within me; and I thought + how God had made me instrumental in saving life in former days, and + I could not resist the impulse of that which at first the people + called my madness. I called to some men who were standing near a + boat moored to the bank, and urged them to go with me to the + rescue, but they would none of them stir. I took two long + linen-lines, and tied them together, and requested the people on + the bank to assist me, for I was determined to go alone if they + would not go with me. + + "I jumped into the boat, and then the men were ashamed, and took + their oars, and said they would go without me; but no, that I was + determined they should not do; so the man slackened the rope, as we + were carried by the stream towards the barn, which had fortunately + grounded upon the stump of some large tree which had collected a + quantity of earth so as to form a bank near it. We had hard work to + get up towards the smooth-water side of the barn; but the men kept + the boat close to the side by pushing against the trunk of the + tree; and I stood up at the head of the boat, and received the dear + children into my arms. They were all taken from the thatch, and we + launched again into the eddies. + + "Had it not been for the line, we should have been sent down the + stream like an arrow from a bow. All our fear was lest the line + should break, and if it had we could never have rowed up the + stream. Thanks be to the providential mercy of God, we were all + hauled safe to land. + + "Oh! how the dear children did cling to me! They told me that they + saw great alligators come up and look at them; but, poor things! + their terrible situation would make them magnify a floating tree + into an alligator. Horses, cows, sheep, and all kinds of animals, + were hurried along the waters to the sea. I wonder whence all this + body of fresh water can come from! We had no previous rains, and + yet thousands and thousands of acres were covered ten, fifteen, and + twenty feet deep with these floods. + + "I brought Mr. Lacey's family to my own house. You know, my dear + lady, how fond I am of children. I take care of them, and they + assist me, until their father shall have got another habitation to + take them to. Some poor creatures expired just as help reached + them. They got on to houses, barns, stacks, and trees, and were + often swept off all these resting-places. Many persons were + drowned; many lost all their property. We were all fearful at one + time that we should be swallowed up. Part of the hill on which my + cottage stands began to cave away, and has left a cliff several + feet high for a long distance. I was very near losing my own life; + for I was standing on the verge of the hill when a part of my own + field close by my feet caved in, and was swept away by the flood. + It seemed to melt away like sugar in a cup; but, God be praised! I + just escaped falling with it. You may believe that it terrified me. + + "I have about twenty acres of land from my dear friend, Mrs. + Palmer, who sends me one man to help me in the cultivation of it. + Some have lost all: my loss is estimated at about fifty pounds. + Everything is now so dear in the colony that my little stock in my + shop is as much as doubled in its value; so that my loss in one way + will be made up in another. + + "We are almost afraid of starvation on account of the many thousand + bushels of Indian corn carried away by the flood. This corn, mixed + with a little wheat, makes most excellent bread. You may imagine, + dear lady, how we suffer, when I state that most of the wheat then + in the ground was completely rooted up and carried away like + sea-weed. All manner of grain has become very dear. Government has + issued a certain quantity for each sufferer for seed-corn. + + "Clothing of all kinds is very scarce; but whilst I am writing, + news has just arrived that a ship has providentially come into port + laden with a vast supply, so that it will soon be the cheapest + thing we can get. I should have done great things this year but for + the flood; but I have every reason to be thankful for that which is + left for me. + + "My prayers, dear lady, are always for your happiness, and for the + good of all your dear family. Pray God that I may have the comfort + to hear from you again! It is the comfort of heaven to me to hear + that you and yours are well. Give my dutiful thanks to that dear + lady, Mrs. Sleorgin, for the handsome present of books which she + has sent me, and for the letter of good advice which accompanied + it. Assure her, dear madam, that I endeavour to follow her advice + every day. How thankful ought I to be to God that I have such dear + friends who care for me! + + "My health at times is not good, and I am still very thin. Tell Dr. + Stebbing that I walk every day farther than the space between his + house and Nacton Street. God bless him! I have got several packages + of curiosities for him. The greatest pleasure I have in this + country is the hope of hearing from you, dear lady. I shall feed + upon this hope for the next twelve months; and I assure you, when + your letters do arrive, I am just as delighted as a child would be + to hear from an affectionate parent. + + "Give my love and duty to my master, and all the young people who + may chance to know my name, and ever believe me to be + + "Your affectionate servant, + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "JOHN COBBOLD, ESQ., Cliff, Ipswich." + +The last letter received from Margaret _Catchpole_ is also dated from +Richmond Hill. It breathes the same affectionate attachment and anxiety, +and is given here as worthy of the same attention as the former ones:-- + + "RICHMOND HILL, Sept. 1st, 1811. + + "HONOURED MADAM, + + "On the 8th of August of this year, 1811, I received my cedar case + that Captain Prichard should have brought. It is almost two years + ago since he landed the troops at Sydney. Mrs. Palmer, my + ever-constant friend, took charge of it for me, until I was enabled + to go down myself. When I received tidings of its arrival, I set + off from my cottage, and walked the whole way, leaving the eldest + child I took from the flood to take care of my house. It is full + fifty miles from Richmond Hill to Sydney. Mrs. Palmer could not + think where the case could have been all that time. But your + letter, my dear madam, has set all our minds easy upon the subject. + + "At first I thought it was the case, and all the things I sent you, + come back again. But bless you, dear lady, for thinking of me! I + was greatly rejoiced when I found that you had received the birds + quite safe, and that they gave you such pleasure. Everything that + you have sent me is quite safe, and so delightfully packed, that I + could see your own dear handiwork in the whole process. All are, I + assure you, very acceptable to me; and many thousand thanks do I + give for them. I never can feel sufficiently thankful to heaven and + you. + + "How deeply do I feel the loss of dear Mrs. Sleorgin! With God's + help, I will endeavour to follow her good advice to the day of my + own departure, and then I shall meet her again. My loss is, I am + persuaded, her own gain. Her blessings have come here, and will be + fruitful to her own good soul in a happier world. I am very fond of + reading those good books which she has sent me, and I shall always + be reminded of the benevolent donor. + + "Dear lady, I am grieved to hear of the death of poor Miss Anne + that was. She was always the most meek-spirited of all the young + ladies. Master Rowland was always my favourite. He was born in + those happy days when I lived with you; and he, too, is gone. Your + letter conveys very anxious tidings; and though joyful to me to see + your dear handwriting, yet I grieve to find that you have been so + ill. Oh! if there was anything in this country that would do you + good, however difficult it might be to be obtained, I would not + cease using all my efforts until I had got it for you. If I can + find anything at any time which may be new to you, and please your + dear, good mind, anything you have not heard of before, what + pleasure it will be to me! + + "Oh! never can I be dutiful or grateful enough to you for your + goodness to me. God preserve you long to be a blessing to your dear + family and friends! + + "I am ashamed, my dear madam, to send this hasty scribble into your + hands, but the ship is about to sail directly, and I am hard + pressed for time. I am pleased to think that you got my long list + of dried plants and birds. I am sorry the insects were not better + fastened in the case; I will attend particularly to your + instructions about them for the future. I am living alone, as I was + when I last wrote you, and am getting on well, in a very honest and + independent way of life. People wonder why I do not marry. I cannot + forget my late trials, troubles, and horrors, and I dread forming + any acquaintance with any man. I was happy before such notions + entered my mind, and I have been comparatively happy since I have + had no more notions of the same sort. So I am single and free. + + "The cap you have sent me, which you say is a great favourite of + yours, I put on last evening, and drank my tea in it, with some + tears of reflection. My heart was so full, to think that the work + of your own hands, and that which had graced your own head, should + cover such an unworthy one as mine, it made me feel humble and + sorrowful, as well as joyful and thankful. I must hastily conclude + this letter, as the messenger calls for any ship letters for + Sydney. May the blessings and thanks of your grateful servant reach + your dear heart, from the soul of + + "Your ever devoted servant, + "MARGARET CATCHPOLE. + + "J. COBBOLD, ESQ., Cliff, Ipswich." + +It is now time that our attention should be recalled to one whose +conduct has, we trust, already gained him a place in the reader's +esteem, and who after all must be looked upon as the true hero of our +simple story. John Barry (now most worthy to have that old English title +of Esquire attached to his name, as being the highest which was +acknowledged in the settlement, under the governor) had, as the reader +will remember, arrived at New South Wales, and settled at Liberty +Plains. He was among the earliest free settlers in the land, and was a +man of such firmness and steadiness of character, of such integrity and +perseverance, that he succeeded far beyond his own most sanguine +expectations, and established for himself such a character for probity, +sagacity, and general worth, that he was consulted upon all the most +interesting concerns of the colony. He it was who suggested to Governor +King the first idea of establishing the "Female Orphan Asylum," and +proposed attaching one hundred acres of land as a marriage portion for +the children. He it was who laid the second stone of St. John's Church, +Paramatta. He built the first free-trader that was ever launched from +Port Jackson. That he prospered it is needless to declare, because +industry and integrity, with activity of mind, intelligence, and +sincerity, must prosper in any place. He was a merchant as well as a +great corn grower: he was also, as we have before stated, the government +contractor for land. He never caballed with any one party against +another, for the sake of increasing the price of land, but honestly, in +a straight-forward way, stated the price per acre, the quantities that +parties might have, and the money expected in a given time. He had sold +for the government many thousand acres of the finest tract of land, +which bordered upon the river Hawkesbury, and retained a portion for +himself at Windsor, by the Green Hills, for which he strictly paid the +highest price that was then given for land in that district. + +His residence, called Windsor Lodge, was situated on a very commanding +spot upon the south bank of the river. At a short distance from the +water he had built very large granaries, capable of holding an immense +quantity of grain, and this spot became the great corn-mart of the +country; the grain was thence transported to the coast, and supplied +every port connected with the colony. The Hawkesbury is a noble river, +particularly opposite to Windsor Lodge, the house, or rather mansion, of +the owner of the Green Hills around. If real worth and talent, if +public and private benevolence, with the most expansive views of men and +things, together with acts of such virtue and dignity as speak the +spirit of true nobility, could be found in any one, they existed in the +mind and heart of that youth, who left the shores of old England a +simple, single-minded Suffolk farmer's son, to become a man of wealth +and goodness in a distant land. + +It is true that no chivalric deed of arms signalized his career: he was +an enterprising, but a peaceful man; he could boast no long line of +ancestry higher or more exalted than himself. His parents were good, +honest, and virtuous people, and their son bore the same character, but +with the possession of superior information; and may we not, in some +measure, trace the origin of all this man's virtues and good qualities +to that passion which still, as it was in the olden times, is the parent +and prompter of all that is great and noble, all that is gentle; all, in +short, that distinguishes man from the brutes that perish? Love dwelt, a +pure and holy flame, in the breast of this young man; and change of +scene, change of condition, increase of knowledge, of wealth, and of +circumstances--in short, circumstances which would have changed almost +any other being--changed not him. + +It may seem strange to many that Mr. Barry should have been so long a +leading man in the colony, and in constant communication with England, +and never have heard of the fate of Margaret Catchpole. But when they +understand that all notice of her career had been studiously excluded +from the correspondence of his friends in England; and, moreover, that +convicts of all classes, when they came to Botany Bay, were sent to the +northward to be employed on the government stores, and that the +Hawkesbury was devoted principally to free labourers and settlers, and +that the line of demarcation between convict and free settler was +extremely strict, their surprise will in a great degree cease. + +Beloved and respected by all, as John Barry was, the wonder with all +was that he never married. With every comfort around him, with health +and cheerfulness, a goodly person, great repute, and wealth scarcely +equalled by any one in the colony, he still remained a lone man; and but +that he evinced a kind, benevolent, and friendly disposition towards all +their sex, the females would have set him down as a cold ascetic. He was +far from being this kind of person. Love was the ruling principle of his +life; and though he had himself suffered so much from disappointment +that he never had the slightest inclination to address his affection to +another, yet he encouraged social and domestic virtues in others, and +advised many not to follow his bachelor example. His own sisters he had +portioned off handsomely; and one of his greatest relaxations was to +visit their abodes and to delight in their happiness and prosperity. + +In the year 1811, Mr. John Barry was visited with a deep affliction, in +the loss of one of his sisters, who died of fever, leaving a husband and +a young family of seven children. But how surely does good spring out of +seeming evil! Fraught as this event was with the most poignant grief to +John Barry, it was, nevertheless, the ultimate cause of the consummation +of all his hopes, and the completion of that happiness which he had so +richly earned. Deeply desiring the welfare of his sister's children, and +seeing the forlorn condition to which they were reduced by the death of +their excellent mother, he at once acted with an energy and discretion +which the afflicted husband could not command. He sought to obtain as +speedily as possible some respectable person to take charge of the +family, and he remembered that Mrs. Palmer had mentioned to him a +valuable person, whom she had sent to Richmond Hill, to take charge of +some motherless children related to herself. He therefore went down to +Sydney immediately, and obtained an interview with that lady at the +Orphan Asylum. + +"I think, my dear madam, you mentioned to me, two or three years ago, +that you lost a relative who left a young family, and that you sent a +confidential female to superintend and take care of the children?" + +"I did, sir, and a most valuable treasure she has always been to me. She +lived with the husband of my relative for two years as housekeeper and +general superintendent of his establishment. He is, however, since +dead." + +"And she----" + +"Is still living at Richmond Hill, but perfectly independent. It was a +curious and unprecedented fact in this country, for a young woman in her +situation to refuse the hand of the very man whose family she managed; +but she did so, and to her honour and credit; for the love she bore me +she left his service and returned to live with me. I was, as you may +conceive, greatly pleased with her, and took her still more closely into +my confidence. Two years after this the husband of my late relative +died, leaving his whole property at Richmond Hill to me, for the benefit +of his children, and in case of their death, to me and my heirs for +ever. The poor children, always sickly, died in this house, and the +property is now let to a most respectable tenant. I reserved twenty +acres and a cottage for this young woman, who had acted so generously; +and I do not scruple to tell you, that though she pays a nominal rent to +me for the cottage and land, yet I have always put that rent into the +bank in her name, with the full intention of leaving her the property I +mention." + +"I am very much obliged to you for the information which you give me. +You have heard that I have lost my youngest sister Maria. She leaves a +disconsolate husband with seven young children, the eldest only eight +years of age. My object in asking about this person was to secure her as +guardian of these dear children; and the manner in which you have spoken +of her convinces me that she would be eligible and valuable, if she were +but at liberty to come. Do you think you could persuade her to undertake +the duty? I would send a man to farm her land for her, and devote the +whole rent to her remuneration." + +"I am afraid she would not leave her present home and occupation. She +keeps a small store and lives entirely by herself, except that a little +girl, whose life she saved from the great flood, assists her. You would +have been very much pleased with her had you witnessed her brave conduct +in risking her own life in the attempt to save a Mr. Lacey and his +family, who on that day were carried away in their barn. She put to +shame the spirits of several men who stood looking on the waters, and +refused to go to the assistance of those poor creatures. She would +positively have gone alone, and entered the boat with the full +determination to do so, if they refused to accompany her. They were at +length fairly shamed into going along with her to the spot where the +barn had grounded, and thus actually rescued the whole family from their +perilous situation. I wonder you did not see the account of it in the +_Sydney Gazette_." + +"You interest me very much in this person," said Mr. Barry; "she must be +a very extraordinary woman." + +"She is, indeed. But this is not the most extraordinary feat of her +life. She is a convict, and was transported to this country for stealing +a horse, and riding it a distance of seventy miles in one night." + +"But how came you to know her?" + +"She was recommended to me by Captain Sumpter, who conveyed her in his +ship to this country, and gave her an excellent character. She was so +highly mentioned in his letters, that I took her into the establishment +at the Female Orphan Asylum, and found her all that I could desire, and +much more than I could have had any reason to expect." + +"Do you know what her character was in England?" + +"Her whole history has been laid before me. And this I can +conscientiously declare, that she was guilty of but one great error, +which betrayed her into the commission of an offence for which she was +sent to this country. Her besetting sin was misplaced affection, an +unaccountable attachment to an unworthy man. She stole a horse from her +master to meet this lover in London, and was sentenced to death for so +doing. She was reprieved, owing to her previous good character, and +would never have been sent to this country, had she not been persuaded +by the same man to break out of prison. She effected her escape from +gaol, and would have got clear out of the country, but for the activity +of a young man (by-the-by, a namesake of yours) in the coastguard, who +shot her lover in a skirmish on the sea-shore; and then she was retaken, +tried a second time, and a second time condemned to death; but her +sentence was commuted to transportation for life." + +On looking on the countenance of Mr. Barry at this moment, Mrs. Palmer +was surprised to see it deadly pale. + +"You are ill, sir," she exclaimed; "pray let me send for assistance." + +"No, no, I thank you; I shall be better presently. A little faintness +came over me, doubtless from the interest I feel in the history you have +related to me." + +With great effort Mr. Barry commanded himself, as he said in a trembling +voice, "And the name of this singular person is----" + +"Margaret Catchpole," replied Mrs. Palmer, as he seemed to pause. + +Overpowered by emotion of the most conflicting kind, Mr. Barry was +completely unmanned. Accustomed for so long a time to smother his +affections, he now found his heart bursting with the fullness of agony +at finding the being so highly recommended to him, and one whom he had +never ceased to love--_a convict_. + +"Oh, my respected friend!" he exclaimed, "I loved that woman long before +I came to this country. I love her still--I confess I love her now; I +cannot, I do not, from all I know of her, and from all you tell me, +believe her to be an abandoned character;--but she is a convict." + +"Alas! she is," replied Mrs. Palmer. "You astonish, you amaze me, Mr. +Barry. Does she know your situation in this country?" + +"I should think not, for I have had no information of hers up to this +time. You must know that I would have brought her out to this country as +my wife, but she was then attached to another. That other, I fear, was +shot by my brother. He was a smuggler, and my brother was in the +preventive service. She may not retain any feeling towards me but +respect." + +"I have never heard her mention your name, nor had I the slightest hint +of these circumstances. I do not think she dreams of your existence. +This is a large country, Mr. Barry, and if your name and fame in it have +ever reached her ear, depend upon it she does not think that you are the +person who once addressed her. But if she should hear it, I can tell you +that she is so truly humble a creature, that she would think it +presumption even to fancy that you could still love her. She is the +meekest and most affectionate creature I ever knew." + +"I can believe it, if she is anything like what I remember of her; she +is warm-hearted, honest, open, and sincere, but uneducated." + +"She is all the first-mentioned, but far, very far from being the last. +In some things she is as well informed as ourselves, and in the best of +all books she is really well read. She daily reads and understands her +Bible. Her mistress, copies of whose letters I can show you, instructed +her with her own children; and I can assure you, that in nothing but the +want of station is she inferior to the best of her sex." + +After the first struggles of his emotion were over, Mr. Barry made a +complete confidante of Mrs. Palmer, and at once revealed to her the +state of his own feelings respecting Margaret; and she fully explained +to him what had been the excellent conduct of the object of his +affection since her residence in that country. After hearing her +statement, and appearing to consider within himself for a brief space, +he said-- + +"I think I have sufficient interest with the governor to obtain her free +pardon. If you can furnish me with the numbers of the _Sydney Gazette_ +in which she is mentioned, I will urge upon that humane man the policy +of rewarding such an example as that which she set in rescuing the lives +of Mr. Lacey and his family from the flood. I will take your +recommendation, also, to the governor, and see what may be done. In the +meantime, I beg you to take the earliest opportunity of mentioning my +name to her in any manner you may think best. My mind is made up. If I +procure her pardon, and she will listen to me favourably, I will marry +her. You may tell her so, if you find her favourably disposed towards +me." + +That very day the good Mrs. Palmer wrote the following note to Margaret +Catchpole:-- + + "SYDNEY, Sept. 21, 1811. + + "MY GOOD MARGARET, + + "I desire to see you at Sydney, and have sent a conveyance for you + that you may not be oppressed with the journey. I have something + particular to communicate, but shall not tell you by letter what it + is, that you may not be over-anxious. I shall simply call it a + matter of most momentous business, which concerns both you and me, + and also a third person. Your attendance here will greatly + facilitate the settlement of the affair. And in the meantime, + believe me, + + "Your sincere friend, + "ELIZA PALMER. + + "To MARGARET CATCHPOLE, Richmond Hill." + +It was indeed a great piece of news which this kind-hearted woman had to +communicate to her husband. Still he was not so surprised as she +expected him to have been. + +"I have always thought, from his manner, that Mr. Barry had some strong +and secret attachment in England. I fancied that he was in love with +some damsel of high birth in his native country; and truly do I think +him worthy of any lady's hand. I little dreamed, however, of his real +position. He is a good man, and will make a most excellent member of our +highest society, and will exalt any woman he may take to be wife. But +how do you think Margaret is affected towards him?" + +"It is that very thing I wish to know. I cannot really tell. She has +been as great an exclusive in her way as he has been in his; and I +confess that my present opinion is, that she will never marry." + +"She would really be to blame if she did not. I think this match would +tend to soothe that growing distance and disrespect which exists between +the emancipated and the free settlers. At all events, it is highly +honourable and noble in our excellent friend." + +"I think she would be wrong to refuse such an offer. But she has shown +herself so independent, that unless a real affection should exist, I +feel persuaded that she will live at Richmond Hill in preference to +Windsor Lodge. I expect her here to-morrow, as I have sent the chaise +for her." + +Mr. Barry repaired to the governor's house and had a long interview with +him. He had some general business to speak of and several public matters +to arrange; but he made haste to come to the case of a female convict, +Margaret Catchpole, which he laid before the governor with such zeal, +that the latter could not help observing the deep interest he took in +her behalf. + +"Has your honour seen the nature of the offence for which she was +transported, or ever heard of the motive which prompted it? I have +brought testimony sufficient to corroborate my account of her. I have +the letters of recommendation for good conduct during her voyage to this +country. I have the highest character to give of her all the time she +has been with Mrs. Palmer, and a particular instance of personal courage +and self-devotion, in saving the lives of a whole family in the late +dreadful flood. Her present situation is so highly respectable, and +exhibits such an instance of moral and religious influence triumphant +over the dangers of a degraded position, that, when I heard of it, I +could not fail to lay it before your honour." + +"And a most admirable advocate would you have made at the bar, Mr. +Barry. You have pleaded this young woman's case with such fervour, that +positively, but for your well-known character in the colony, I should +suspect you had some private interest in obtaining her pardon. I do +think, however, that the case is a very proper one for merciful +consideration, and highly deserving of the exercise of that prerogative +which the government at home has attached to my power; and I shall +certainly grant a free pardon. But, without any intention of being too +inquisitive, may I candidly tell you, that from the animated manner in +which you have spoken of the virtues of this said female, I am induced +to ask, why you have taken such a peculiarly personal interest in her +favour?" + +"I will honestly confess at once that I ask it upon the most +self-interested grounds possible: I intend to offer her my hand." + +The governor looked all astonishment. "What? Do I really hear it, or is +it a dream? You, Mr. Barry, the highest, and wealthiest, and most +prudent bachelor in the settlement, one who might return to England and +be one of her wealthiest esquires; and here, enjoying more reputation, +with less responsibility, than the governor--you about to form a +matrimonial alliance with----" + +The governor paused; he found his own eloquence carrying him too far; he +considered the character of the man before him, knew the excellence of +his principles and his heart, and dreaded to wound his generous soul; he +changed his tone, but not the earnestness of his appeal. + +"Have you well weighed this matter, Mr. Barry? Have you consulted with +your friends around you? You are not the man to be caught by outward +appearances, nor to be smitten by passing beauty without some qualities +of domestic happiness, arising from temper, mind, character, and +disposition. How long has this attachment been in existence?" + +"From my youth, your honour: I have not yet seen her since that happy +time when she was a free woman in my native land, enjoying that honest +liberty which is the pride and glory of England's virtuous daughters of +every station in the land. I was then in her own condition of life. We +had both to earn our bread by the labour of our hands; we both respected +each other: would I could say that we had both loved each other! I +should not like to see her again until I can look upon her as a free +woman, and it is in your power to make her that happy being, upon whom I +may look, as I once did, with the warmest affection." + +"I ask no more, Mr. Barry, I ask no more. You have been an enigma to +many of us; it is now solved. It gives me real pleasure to oblige you, +and in such a case as this the best feelings of my heart are abounding +for your happiness. Her freedom is granted. To whom shall I commit the +pardon?" + +"Will you permit me to take it?" + +"Most gladly." + +The governor's secretary was immediately summoned, and the form of +pardon duly signed, sealed, and delivered to the joyful hand of Mr. John +Barry. + +"And now," said the governor, "permit me to say that we shall at all +times be happy to receive you at Sydney; and in any way in which you can +find my countenance and support serviceable, I shall always be ready to +give them." + +A cordial shake of the hand was mutually exchanged, and Mr. Barry +returned that day to Windsor Lodge one of the happiest, as far as hope +and good deeds can make a man so, on this changing earth. + +He had communicated his success to Mrs. Palmer before he left Sydney. +The green hills of Hawkesbury never looked so bright in his eye before, +his house never so pleasant. + +His servants saw an evident change in his manner, from the anguish of +mourning for the loss of a sister, to what they could not quite +comprehend; a state of liveliness they had never before witnessed in +him. Their master never appeared so interested about the house, the +rooms, the garden, and the green lawn. He was most unusually moved; he +gave orders for the preparation of his house to receive his +brother-in-law's children, to the great amazement of his female +domestics, who could not conceive how a bachelor would manage such a +family. + +He did not breathe a word of his intention to any of his domestics; but +every one observed a great change in his behaviour, which all his +habitual quietude could not entirely conceal. + +He wandered down to his favourite spot upon the river, and indulged in a +reverie of imaginary bliss, which, to say the truth, was more real with +him than with many thousands who fancy themselves in love. + +Margaret arrived at Sydney on the day following the receipt of Mrs. +Palmer's letter. She was a little excited at the tone of that epistle, +but much surprised at being received in a manner to which she had never +been accustomed. Margaret saw in a moment, from Mrs. Palmer's manner, +that she had something to communicate of a very different kind to what +she had before mentioned, and at once said-- + +"I perceive, my dear lady, that you have something to say to me which +concerns me more than you wish to let me see it does, and yet you cannot +conceal it. You need not be afraid to tell me; good or bad, I am +prepared for it, but suspense is the most painful." + +"The news I have to tell you then is good; to be at once declared--it is +your free pardon!" + +"This is news indeed, my dearest lady; almost too good news--it comes so +unlooked for; forgive my tears." Margaret wept for joy. + +"Shall I again see dear old England? shall I again see my dear friends, +my mistress, my uncle, aunt, and family? Oh! how shall I ever repay your +kindness? Oh! what can I say to you for your goodness? On my knees, I +thank God, my good friend, and say, God be praised for His mercies, and +bless you, the instrument thereof!" + +"You may thank God; but you must not bless me, Margaret, for I am only +the bearer of the news. I have not even got the pardon in my possession; +but I have seen it. It is signed by the governor, and I know that you +are free." + +"Oh! thanks, dear lady, thanks!--but is it not to Mr. Palmer that I am +indebted? You must have had something to do with it." + +"Nothing farther than the giving you a just character to the governor by +the hand of a gentleman, who has interceded with him, and has pleaded +your cause successfully." + +"Who is the gentleman? Do I know him?" + +"Yes, you may know him when you see him. He read the account of your +saving the family of the Laceys in the flood; he listened with attention +to your former history: he does not live in Sydney, but at Windsor, on +the Hawkesbury; yet, from his interest with the governor, he obtained +your pardon." + +"Bless the dear gentleman! How shall I ever be grateful enough to him? +But you say I know him?" + +"I say I think you will. I know you did once know him, but you have not +seen him for many years." + +"Who can it be, dear lady? You do not mean my brother Charles?" + +"No." + +"Who then can it be? Not my former master, or any of his family?" + +"No, Margaret; I must be plainer with you. Do you remember a young man +of the name of Barry?" + +"John Barry! Yes, I do. What of him? He went to Canada." + +"No, he did not. He came to this country, has lived in it many years, +and has prospered greatly. He is in the confidence of the governor. He +accidentally discovered you were in the country. He it was--yes, he it +was--who went that very hour to the governor, and I have no doubt asked +it as a personal favour to himself that you should be pardoned. What say +you to such a man?" + +"All that I can say is to bless him with a most grateful heart. Oh! dear +lady, he saved my life once, and now he gives me liberty! He was a good +young man; too good for such as me to think upon, though he once would +have had me think more of him. I had forgotten all but his kindness, +which I never can forget; and now it overwhelms me with astonishment. Is +he married, and settled in this country?" + +"He is settled, but not married. He has been a prosperous man, and is as +benevolent as he is rich; but he never married, at which we have all +wondered." + +This declaration made Margaret blush; a deep crimson flush passed over +her cheeks, and was succeeded by extreme paleness. Her heart heaved +convulsively, a faintness and dizziness came upon her, and she would +really have fallen had she not been supported by the kind attentions of +her benefactress. + +"He has kept his word! Oh, Mrs. Palmer! I never thought to see him +again. I mistook the country he left me for. I have often thought of his +goodness to me in former days. I am now indebted to him for double +life!" + +"Margaret, what if I tell you that for you only has he kept himself +single?" + +"There was a time when he might and did think of me; but that time must +be gone by." + +"I tell you, he loves you still." + +"Impossible! Oh, if he does!--but it is impossible! Madam, this is all a +dream!" + +"It is a dream, Margaret, from which you will shortly awake, as he is in +the house at this moment to present himself with the governor's pardon!" + +"Dear lady, pray be present with me; I know not how to meet him!" + +The door just then opened, and in came Mr. Barry, with the governor's +pardon in his hand. He approached Margaret, as she clung to Mrs. Palmer, +agitated beyond measure. She regarded him with more solemn feelings than +she did the judge who condemned her twice to death. She dropped upon her +knees, and hid her face before her deliverer. He lifted her up and +seated her, and, in the language of gentleness and tenderness, addressed +her thus:-- + +"Margaret, I have brought you a free pardon from the governor. Need I +remind you that God has mercifully sent me before you in this instance +to be your friend? To Him I know you will give all the thanks and +praises of a grateful heart." + +"To Him I do first, sir; and to you, as his instrument, in the next +place. I am afraid to look upon you, and I am unworthy to be looked upon +by you. I am a----" + +"You need not tell me, Margaret, what you have been. I know all. Think +not of what you were, but what you are. You are no longer a convict; you +are no longer under the ban of disgrace; you are no longer under the +sentence of the offended laws of man; you are now a free subject; and if +your fellow-creatures do not all forgive you, they cannot themselves +hope for forgiveness. You are at liberty to settle wherever you please." + +"Oh! dear sir; and to you I owe all this! What will they say to you in +England, when I again embrace my dear friends there, and bless you for +the liberty thus granted me?" + +"Margaret, hear me again. Remember, when I last saw you, I told you then +what I dreaded, if you refused to come out to this country with me. How +true those fears were, you can now judge. You made a choice then which +gave me anguish to be surpassed only by the present moment. You speak +now of returning to England. You have got your pardon, and are at +liberty so to do. It may seem ungenerous to me, at such a moment, to +urge your stay; but hear now my opinion and advice, and give them the +weight only of your calm judgement. If you return to England, take my +word for it you will not be happy. You will never be as happy as you may +be here. I speak this with feelings as much alive to your interest now +as they were when I last parted with you. I will suppose you returned. +Your own good heart makes you imagine that every one would be as glad to +see you there as you would truly be to see them. Your own heart deceives +you. I have known those who so bitterly lamented their return to +England, that they have come again to settle in this country, and have +offended those friends who would have respected them had they remained +here. When at a distance they felt much for them; but when they came +near to them, the pride of society made them ashamed of those who had +been convicts. It may be that some would be glad to see you; your good +mistress, your uncle and aunt: but circumstances might prevent their +being able to do you any great service. Your former mistress has a large +family, your uncle the same; you have no independence to live upon +there. The eye of envy would be upon you if you had wealth, and +detraction would be busy with your name. People would talk of your sins, +but would never value you for your integrity. You would probably soon +wish yourself in this country again, where your rising character would +be looked upon with respect, and all the past be forgiven, and in time +forgotten. Here you would have an established character: there you would +always be thought to have a dubious one. Besides all this, you are here +prospering. You can have the great gratification of relieving the +necessities of your aged relatives, and of obliging your best friends. +You would, believe me, be looked upon by them with far greater respect +and esteem than if you were nearer to them. Think, Margaret, of what I +now state, and divest yourself of that too great idea of happiness in +England. You are at liberty to go; but you will enjoy far greater +liberty if you stay in this country." + +"What you say, sir, may be true in some respects; but I think I should +die happy if I once more saw my dear friends and relatives." + +"God forbid that I should not approve your feeling! I, too, have a +father, and mother, and brothers in England, but I hear from them +continually, and they rejoice in my welfare. I love them dearly as they +do me. Two sisters have come out to me, and both have married and +settled in the country. One I have lost, who has left a husband and +seven children to lament her loss. I have strong ties, you see, in these +young people, to bind me to this country, for they look up to me as they +do to their father. But they are without female protection." + +"If, my dear sir, I can be of any service to you or them for a term of +years, I shall feel it part of the happiness of that freedom you have +obtained for me to abide as long in this land. But I own that I still +feel that I should like to return one day to England. I am very grateful +for all your goodness, and shall ever bless you for the interest you +have taken in one so unworthy your favour." + +"Margaret, I am deeply interested in these children. They have lost +their mother, my sister. Their aunt, now resident in the colony, has ten +children of her own, and it would not be fair that she should take seven +more into her house. The young man, now left a widower, is in such a +delicate state of health, and so disconsolate for the loss of his wife, +that I do not think he will be long amongst us. These circumstances made +me come to my good friend Mrs. Palmer for assistance and advice. Guess, +then, my astonishment to hear you recommended to me: you, above all +people in the world, whose presence I could have wished for, whose +gentleness I know, and who, if you will, can make both myself and all +these children happy." + +"My dear sir, I stand in a very different position with regard to +yourself to what I formerly did. I do not forget that to your protecting +arm I owe the rescue of my life from the violence of one in whom my +misplaced confidence became my ruin and his own death. I never can +forget that to you I am a second time indebted for liberty, and that +which will sweeten the remainder of my days: the consciousness of being +restored, a pardoned penitent, to virtuous society. But I cannot forget +that I am still but little better than a slave: I am scarcely yet free. +I am not, as I was when you first offered me your hand and heart, upon +an equality with yourself. How then can you ask me to become your wife, +when there is such a disparity as must ever make me feel your slave? No, +generous and good man! I told you formerly that if Laud were dead I +might then find it in my heart to listen to your claims; but I never +thought that I should be in a situation so much beneath you as I am, so +very different to that which I once occupied." + +"And do you think, Margaret, that I can ever forget that I was a +fellow-servant with you at the Priory Farm, upon the banks of the +Orwell? It was then I first made known to you the state of that heart +which, as I told you long ago, would never change towards you. You say +that our conditions are so very dissimilar: I see no great difference in +them; certainly no greater than when you lived at the cottage on the +heath and I was the miller's son. You are independent now. Your good +friend, Mrs. Palmer, has made you so, and will permit me to say, that +you have already an independence in this country far greater than ever +you could enjoy in England." + +Margaret looked at Mrs. Palmer. That good woman at once confessed that +all the rent that Margaret had paid for the years she had been in the +farm was now placed in the Sydney bank, to her account, and quite at her +disposal. She added, that she had made over the estate she occupied at +Richmond Hill to her for ever. + +What could Margaret now say? She found herself on the one hand made +free, through the intercession of a man who loved her, and on the other +she was made independent for life by a lady who had only known her in +her captivity, but who had respected and esteemed her. That lady now +thought it time to speak out. + +"Margaret, do not think that I have given you anything more than what +you are strictly entitled to. Remember that, from a sense of justice +towards me, you refused the hand of a man who probably would have +settled all the estate upon you. But you chose to think yourself +unworthy of my kindness had you accepted his offer. You acted with great +discretion; and in settling this small portion upon you, I was guided by +a sense of justice and gratitude, which made me anxious to discharge a +just debt, and I do not consider that I have even given you as much as I +ought to have done." + +"Indeed, you have, dear lady, and you have bound me to you for ever. +Have I, indeed, such dear friends in this country? Then do I feel it my +duty to remain in it, and I will learn to sigh no longer after that +place where I had so long hoped to live and die. You give me, however, +more credit for refusing the hand of Mr. Poinder than I deserve: I never +could have married a man who, in such an imperious manner, gave me to +understand his will. No; I was his servant, but not his slave. And any +woman who would obey the nod of a tyrant, to become his wife, could +never expect to enjoy any self-estimation afterwards. He told me his +intention of making me his wife in such an absolute way that I quite as +absolutely rejected him. I deserve no credit for this." + +"Margaret," said Mr. Barry, "understand the offer I now make you. If you +are not totally indifferent to all mankind, and can accept the offer of +one whose earliest affections you commanded, then know that those +affections are as honest, and true, and faithful to you this day, as +they were when I first addressed you. Think me not so ungenerous as ever +to appeal to any sense of gratitude on your part. You cannot conceive +what unspeakable pleasure I have always thought it to serve you in any +way I might. You cannot tell how dead I have been to every hope but +that of being enabled to do good to others. This has been my purest +solace under your loss, Margaret; and if in daily remembrance of you I +have done thus much, what will not your presence always urge me to +perform? + +"I sought a servant, a confidential kind of friend, to govern my +brother's household: I little thought that I should find the only person +I ever could or would make my wife. I offer you, then, myself and all my +possessions. I am willing to make over all I have, upon the contract +that you become the aunt of those dear children, and I know you too well +ever to doubt your kindness to them. + +"As to your respectability, I have already declared to the governor my +full intention of offering you this hand. He has promised to recognize +you as my wife. Your friend here will not like you the less because you +are so nearly allied to me; and I will answer for all my relatives and +friends. None will ever scorn you, all will respect you, I will love +you. Say, then, will you live my respected wife at Windsor Lodge, or +will you still live alone at Richmond Hill?" + +"It is you must choose," replied Margaret; "I cannot refuse. I never can +doubt you. I will endeavour to fulfil the station of a mother in that of +an aunt; and if my heart does not deceive me, I shall do my duty as an +honest wife." + +After this explanation, it is needless, perhaps, to add that Margaret +Catchpole changed her name, and became the much-respected and beloved +wife of John Barry, Esq., of Windsor, by the Green Hills of Hawkesbury. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 11: The specimens in question may be seen distinguished by a +label attached to them with the following words:-- + + "MANURA SUPERBA. + "LYRA, OR BOTANY BAY PHEASANT. + +"These beautiful birds were sent to the late Mrs. Cobbold, of the Cliff, +by Margaret Catchpole, a female servant, who stole a coach-horse from +the late John Cobbold, Esq., and rode it up to London in one night. She +was in the act of selling the horse when she was taken. She was in man's +apparel. She was tried at Bury in 1797, and received sentence of death, +which sentence, owing to the entreaties of the prosecutor, was changed +to seven years' transportation; but breaking out of gaol, she was +afterwards transported for life. + +"Presented to this Museum by R. K. Cobbold, Esq."] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +CONCLUSION + + +If true love and constancy are noble qualities in the heart of man, and +prompt him to deeds of generous philanthropy, they deserve to be +recorded and imitated from the example of John Barry. And if sincerity +and repentance be qualities worthy the charitable consideration of good +Christians, Margaret Catchpole's career in this life, and especially her +latter days, will not afford a bad example of the promise of "the life +that now is, and of that which is to come." The remaining history of +this singular individual was one of quiet calm, and yet benevolent +exertion in all good works of faith and love. She lived highly respected +in the situation to which her husband's good qualities and good fortune +had raised her. She lived a retired, though not a secluded life, on the +banks of the Hawkesbury, fulfilling the duties of her station as a good +wife, aunt, sister, and mother, in an exemplary manner. Charitable as +she was rich, she never thought she could do enough to relieve the +distresses of others. + +Not many months after her marriage she received another chest of goods +from her benevolent mistress in England, and wrote her last epistle of +thanks, dated + + "WINDSOR, HAWKESBURY, June 25th, 1812. + + "MY DEAR MADAM, + + "The contents of this letter will surprise you. I hope that I am + not the less grateful for your goodness because God has blessed me + with such abundance, that I no longer require that aid from England + which has hitherto been such a blessing to me. Indeed, my dearest + madam, my good and early friend, I am most grateful for all your + past favours, though I do not wish to tax a generosity which I do + not now, in the same manner, need. May Heaven bless your warm + heart, which will glow with fervent praise to God when you read + this letter from your former poor servant! + + "Everything that I could wish for, and, oh! how much more than I + deserve, have I had granted to me in this place of probation! God + grant I may not set my heart too much upon their value! Dearest + lady, I have men-servants and maid-servants, horses and cattle, + flocks and herds in abundance. I have clothing and furniture above + what you can imagine, and a house wide enough to entertain in it + all your numerous family. But, more than all this, I have an + excellent husband, one whose constancy from his youth has been + beyond the praise which I could find language to express. + + "You may remember what I once told you of a young man whom I had + rejected for a less worthy one. He has proved his love for me in + such a manner as I am sure could never have been seen in any but + the most noble of his nature. He told me in England that he would + never marry any other, and through years of industry and prosperity + (and as I have every reason to believe he would have done to the + last day of this life) has kept himself single on my account. Did + you ever chance to hear of such a case as this? When I reflect upon + it, as I often do, I find it more and more wonderful. + + "You must remember my telling you of Mr. John Barry's attachment to + me. He left me when I lived at Nacton, and came out here among the + earliest free settlers in the country, and has prospered beyond his + utmost anticipations. He found me out here by accidental inquiries + of my dear Mrs. Palmer, and obtained for me my free pardon. My + wishes to return again to my native land became absorbed in the + sense of duty and obligation to my benefactor, who, when he had + obtained that pardon, gave me the option of sharing my life and + freedom with him, or of being independent here or elsewhere. Noble + generosity! Does it not win your heart? It won mine. I am his + faithful wife: happy, happy, as the days are long. He is good, + virtuous, amiable, and truly religious; constant in his love to God + and man. I could fill many letters in speaking of his virtues; but + I forget that you never saw him, though he lived upon the shores of + the same river that you do. + + "He is very good to me, so that I want nothing more from England. + How proud shall I be to send you now anything which this country + produces! + + "Herewith I send you a sketch of my present beautiful abode, done + by Mrs. Palmer. It will give you a slight idea of my situation. I + send you also a present of various seeds, skins of animals (one of + the ursine opossum), and dried plants, which I think will be + valuable to you; and also some curious weapons and instruments of + the natives, for my dear friend, Dr. Stebbing. + + "What a wonderful life has mine been! You only, my dear lady, know + its reality. There may be others equally eventful; but how few are + there who find such a place of unmerited repose as I have? My dear + sister's words often recur to my mind when she told me whom I + should not marry: I wonder if she ever thought of the one I have + married. There are many very excellent people in this flourishing + country. The governor and his family have received us, and have + been very kind to me. My dear friend, Mrs. Palmer, is now staying + in my house. She is my benefactress here, as you were in England. + Oh! if I could but bring you both together, and could sit quietly + listening to your conversation, it would be such an intellectual + treat as few could more enjoy! She is, like yourself, very clever. + I believe I should die happier if I could see your dear, loved face + in this land; but if that never may be, nor I see old England + again, then may Heaven bless you; and God bestow His brightest + gifts of grace upon you and your children! + + "I am this moment engaged, and lay down my pen to give directions + concerning the work in that most interesting of all female + employments, preparing for the coming of a family of my own. Mrs. + Palmer, who sees me writing these words, says, 'How astonished you + will be!' You will rejoice in my happiness. I know you will. + Forgive, dear lady, all my errors, both of the weakness of my head + and heart. Give my love to all my dear friends. Any person coming + to this country, with a recommendation from you to me, will find + the warmest reception. In justice to my husband, I would forget + what I have been, and I speak seldom of my past errors, though, + before God, I never cease to lament and repent of them; and did I + not know who 'died for the ungodly,' my grief for the past would be + without consolation. Blessed faith, that teaches the contrite how + to be comforted! Who can value Thee as he ought in this struggling + state! + + "I can add but a few more words, and I do so with tears and + trembling. It is not from pride of heart. Dear lady, you must judge + of its propriety. I am likely to increase my family; and I would + conceal from them, in future years, their mother's early history, + at least those parts which are so unworthy to be mentioned. But I + feel that my maiden name cannot be forgotten in your neighbourhood. + Hundreds will speak of it when you and I shall be no more. Oh that + it could be represented to the world in its proper light, as a + warning to that portion of my countrywomen to which I belonged, + that they never give way to their headstrong passions, lest they + fall as I did! But 'the tender mercies of God are over all His + works,' and I can never magnify that mercy too much, as it has been + shown to me. + + "If, dear lady, as years increase, our correspondence should not be + so frequent, because of my altered situation in this country, do + not think me proud. Your feelings as a mother will point to the + nature of my own. You would not have your children know your + faults. Pardon this, perhaps, my greatest weakness. + + "Should you ever think fit, as you once hinted in your letter to + me, to write my history, or should leave it to others to publish, + you have my free permission at my decease, whenever that shall + take place, so to do. But let my husband's name be concealed. + Change it, change it to any other; not for his sake, for it is + worthy to be written in golden characters, but for mine and my + children's sake! And now, dear lady, farewell. God's peace be with + you! and ever think of me as + + "Your grateful and affectionate servant, + "MARGARET BARRY." + +So ends the correspondence of Margaret with her mistress. That lady +wrote one more letter to her, assuring her of her joy and thankfulness +at her providential settlement in the land of her adoption. She told her +that she had kept the early facts of her history in such order, that on +some future day they might perhaps be published, but that her wishes +should be strictly attended to, and her parental anxieties respected. +She took an affectionate leave of her in that last letter, promising not +to intrude anything of past obligation upon her notice, but leaving it +entirely to her own heart to recognize any friends of hers, from the +county of Suffolk, who might, either in military, naval, or civil +capacity, go out to Sydney. How delicately those wishes were observed, +some can well remember. + +Margaret Barry lived many years at Windsor, greatly respected and +beloved. She had one son and two daughters, who received the best +education which England could afford, and returned to settle in their +native land. Among the foremost for intelligence, benevolence, activity, +and philanthropy, is the distinguished son of Margaret; and in the +future history of Australia he will bear no unimportant share in her +celebrity and greatness. The daughters are amiable and accomplished, and +have married gentlemen of the first respectability in the country. + +After fifteen years of the tenderest and most uninterrupted domestic +comfort, Margaret had the severe affliction to undergo of losing her +devoted and excellent husband, who died September 9th, 1827, leaving the +bulk of his property at her disposal. She removed to Sydney in 1828, +where she was conspicuous only for the mildness of her manners, and the +unostentatious character of her habits of life. + +She had a great desire that her son should settle in her native county +of Suffolk, and he came over to this country with that view; and when +the sale of Kentwell Hall took place, he was nearly the last bidder for +it. His resolution, however, seemed to fail him at the last moment, and +he did not become the purchaser of the estate. He stayed a year in +England, and then returned, with a determination not to settle in any +other country than his native one. He returned to close the eyes of his +affectionate parent, who died September 10th, 1841, in the sixty-eighth +year of her age. + + + + +SUPPLEMENT + +BY THE AUTHOR + +A. D. 1858 + + +Since the first publication of the _Life of Margaret Catchpole_, many +have been the correspondents who have addressed the author upon the +subject of her life and character. Many have been the inquiries made +concerning her, and many things, which the author never heard of her, +have since come to light. They would fill a volume. The author has no +intention of inflicting any further pain upon the sensitive minds of +some, who, in writing to him, have quite overlooked the idea that he, +the author, had any sensitiveness whatsoever. He has no intention of +reviving any feeling of the past, respecting what may or may not be mere +local descriptive scenic representation; but there are certain moral +representations which the author gave, both of her early respectability +and character, which he deems it but a mere act of common justice to her +memory to substantiate, and thus furnish the only defence which can ever +be in his power to make against those who accused him of wilful +misrepresentation. Though all the documents relating to this +extraordinary female are duly filed and preserved,--and her own letters +in her own handwriting have been transmitted for inspection to several +inquirers,--there are some facts which may be interesting as proof +positive of the assertions contained in the narrative. To a few of such +the author now refers the reader. + +The first is a letter from the Reverend William Tilney Spurdens, +formerly head-master of the Grammar School at North Walsham, Norfolk; a +celebrated scholar, the translator of Longinus, the early and beloved +tutor and friend of the author. This gentleman had an uncle at +Brandiston in Suffolk, with whom he used to stay, and to that uncle and +to Peggy's aunt he refers in this letter. + + "NORTH WALSHAM, 30th Oct. 1846. + + "MY DEAR FRIEND, + + "I cannot delay to put you in possession of my '_love-passages_' + with your heroine, albeit, at this present writing, suffering much + pain from asthma and chronic bronchitis, which are both aggravated + by our foggy air for some days past. + + "In my early childhood I had an uncle, an aged widower with no + family, who did me the favour of being very fond of me. He had one + domestic in his house, and another out of it, the former a female, + the latter a male. The former rejoiced in the name of Nanny, I + suppose there was another postfixed to it, but of this I am not + cognizant: but Nanny had a niece, or cousin, or something of the + kind, named _Peggy Catchpole_; and whenever the old uncle's + favourite paid him a visit, the maid's paid a visit to her, + '_for_,' as Nanny used to say, '_it was so comfortable for the + children, like; and the little dears helped to amuse one another_;' + and so it was that Peg and I walked together, played together, and + slept together. + + "I wish I could give you dates, which are the sinews of history, + you know. There is one event which my mind connects very exactly + with this period, and which will afford you one date. Peggy and her + young swain were going on philandering at supper, at the time of + the loss of the _Royal George_, at Spithead. The newspaper came in + while my good relative was playing a hit at backgammon with his + neighbour, the doctor, as was their frequent practice; and by dint + of spelling, and a lift or two over hard words, I read to them the + mournful narrative. For this I received sixpence, and laid it out + in figs, of which Peg and her swain each ate so many as to make + themselves ill. + + "Now all this would unquestionably have been forgotten, had it not + been made fresh in the memory from Peggy's subsequent career. + Whilst she was in Ipswich Gaol I made interest with the personage, + then usually called '_Old Rip_,' to see her, intending to give her + money. I must then have been a young man. She, however, would not + know anything of me--in fact, '_cut me_:' and so I kept my money. + But I afterwards learned that Ripshaw would not have permitted it + to be given! '_And that's all._' + + "I am afraid that, with all the exuberance of your imagination, you + would be puzzled to concoct a chapter out of this. + + "I am beginning to long for our young friend's visit in order to + [] my introduction to your other heroine. + + "Meanwhile I am, + "My dear Sir, + "Yours very truly, + "W. T. SPURDENS." + +There is no need to concoct a chapter out of this letter. It is the +genuine offering of a kind heart and clear head, and sufficiently +explains the purpose in view; viz. that Margaret was regarded in her +early career with respect and pure affection, by one who sought to +relieve her in her distress, and in a day of degradation and adversity +owned her as his early playmate, and would have ministered to her +necessity. Both, I trust, are now awaiting that final day when the cup +of cold water, given with a good heart for Christ's sake, shall meet +with a blessed reward. + +The second letter is from a gentleman in Lincolnshire, a solicitor and +banker, and speaks to the career of that brother Edward who is mentioned +in the narrative. + + "ALFORD, LINCOLNSHIRE, 10th Dec. 1846. + + "SIR, + + "I have lately read the _Life of Margaret Catchpole_, and was + deeply interested in it. Her brother _Edward_ was several years in + the preventive service in this neighbourhood, at + Sutton-in-the-Marsh, about six miles hence, where he died and was + buried a few years ago. + + "I often saw him in his rounds on the sea-coast, and have had + conversations with him. He was rather a tall person, and of stern + manners. I could readily obtain a copy of the inscription on his + grave-stone, which refers to his former residence at Ipswich, and + forward it to you, should you wish it. His widow, who was a Norwich + person, still lives in this neighbourhood. + + "I remain, Sir, + "Your very obedient servant, + "HENRY T. BOURNE. + + "REV. RICH. COBBOLD, + "Wortham Rectory, + "Diss, Norfolk. + + "P.S. Since writing the above I have heard that Mr. Edward + Catchpole became a decidedly religious character for the last few + years of his life, and died a very happy death." + +From the same gentleman is the memoir here inserted of Margaret's +brother Edward, obtained from an authenticated source, the substance of +which is given in a note, page 294. + +"Mr. Edward Catchpole was born near Ipswich in Suffolk, in the year +1778. Of his early days we know but little; he was led to choose a +sea-faring life in preference to any other line of business; he served +an apprenticeship on board a merchant ship. Some time afterwards he +became mate on board the _Argus_ Revenue Cutter, of Harwich. Whilst in +this service, a most interesting circumstance occurred, which deserves +to be noticed. Sept. 18th, 1807, the _Argus_ succeeded in rescuing an +English coal-brig from the _Star_, French privateer. Having put some men +on board the brig, elated with success, they go in pursuit of the +privateer. They soon fall in with her, and a sharp engagement ensues, +and at 10 o'clock at night the captor was captured; they came to close +quarters, and, owing to the great disparity in numbers, the privateer +having eighty-six men, and the cutter only twenty-seven, they were +boarded, overpowered, taken into a French port, and sent to prison. Mr. +C. was about seven years in a French prison. Frequently his expectations +were raised by hopes of liberation, an exchange of prisoners was often +talked of, but still they were kept in bondage and suspense. A +favourable opportunity occurring, he made his escape, and came over to +England. His arrival at home was so sudden and unexpected to his wife, +that he seemed to her almost like one come from the dead. Subsequently +he was appointed chief officer in the Coastguards; his last station was +at Sutton-in-the-Marsh, in the county of Lincoln; there his health +failed, and there he finished his earthly course, and made a good end. +His conversion to God was most satisfactory. In his affliction the Lord +graciously supported him, he had a hope full of immortality, and his end +was peace. He died on the 17th of December, 1836. He changed mortality +for life. He was interred in the churchyard at Sutton, and a stone has +been placed at the head of his grave, with the following inscription: + + IN MEMORY OF + EDWARD CATCHPOLE, + A NATIVE OF IPSWICH, + IN THE COUNTY OF SUFFOLK, + AND LATE CHIEF OFFICER OF THE + COAST GUARD + STATIONED AT THIS PLACE, + WHO DIED DECEMBER THE 17TH, 1836, + AGED 58 YEARS. + +As some correspondents have actually accused the author of producing +before the public a fictitious character, and in terms of unmeasured +reprobation told him plainly that they understood there never was such a +person as Margaret Catchpole in existence, the author here gives a copy +of the document signed by her judge, the Lord Chief Baron Macdonald. +This document was not obtained until after the publication of the work. +The original is preserved in the Corporation Chest at Ipswich. + + Copy of a Certificate from the Right Honourable Lord Chief Baron + Macdonald, to exempt from all parish offices, for having prosecuted + Margaret Catchpole at Bury Assizes, Aug. 11th, 1797. + + "These are to certify, That at the delivery of the Gaol of our Lord + the King, of the County of Suffolk, holden at Bury St. Edmunds, in + the County aforesaid, on Wednesday, the ninth day of August + instant, before me, whose name is hereunto subscribed, and other + his Majesty's Justices, assigned to deliver the aforesaid Gaol of + the Prisoners, therein being Margaret Catchpole, late of the Parish + of St. Margaret, in the Town of Ipswich, in the County aforesaid, + single woman, convicted of feloniously stealing a Gelding, of the + price of twenty pounds, of the goods and chattels of John Cobbold, + on the twenty-third day of May last, at the Parish aforesaid, in + the Town and County aforesaid; and that the said John Cobbold was + the person who did apprehend and take the said Margaret Catchpole, + and did prosecute her, so apprehended and taken, until she was + convicted of the Felony. Therefore, in pursuance of an Act of + Parliament made in the tenth and eleventh years of the reign of his + late Majesty king William the Third, _intituled_, An Act for the + better apprehending, prosecuting, and punishing of felons that + commit burglary, housebreaking, or robbery, in shops, warehouses, + coachhouses, or stables, or that steal horses; I do hereby further + certify, that by virtue hereof and of the said Act of Parliament, + he, the said John Cobbold, shall and may be, and is hereby, + discharged of and from all manner of Parish Offices within the + Parish of St. Margaret, in the Town of Ipswich aforesaid, in the + County aforesaid. + + "In testimony whereof I have hereunto set my hand this eleventh day + of August, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and + ninety-seven. + + "AR. MACDONALD." + +The author now approaches a most painful, and yet he trusts a +pleasurable, duty. Painful, because his own mind and that of others have +been excessively hurt by a misconception of the identity of that +Margaret Catchpole whose life he has written, and pleasurable, because +of the opportunity afforded him of contradicting the fact so often +asserted, that Mrs. Reibey of New Town, Sydney, was the identical +Margaret Catchpole. + +The relatives and friends of that highly-esteemed lady, lately deceased, +will be glad to read a letter from the late Bishop of Australia, written +to one of his clergy, the Rev. H. D. D. Sparling, of Appin, New South +Wales, the good Bishop himself, as well as hundreds of others, having +been deceived in that identity from a strange but very simple mistake, +viz. that of two places bearing the same name in England, though one be +in Suffolk,--Bury, and the other in Lancashire--_Bury_. + +Hence originated the grand mistake concerning _Mrs. Reibey_ who +emigrated from _Bury_ in Lancashire, and Margaret Catchpole, who was +tried at Bury in Suffolk. It appears from original letters in the +possession of the author, and from Mrs. Reibey's herself, that Suffolk +was totally unknown to her. She was very justly hurt at presents being +sent to her, under the idea that she was that poor girl, whose +correspondence and gratitude to her benefactress, the late Mrs. Cobbold +of Holywells, showed her to be honest and exemplary. She was justly +hurt, because therein was the supposition that she had been tried and +convicted as a felon, and was transported for horse-stealing. + +The friends and relatives of Mrs. Reibey, as well as all Christians, +will be glad to read the amiable Bishop's letter; and even the author, +whom it condemns, gives it to the public, because his own heart is in +full accordance with the charity therein breathed; and he is even more +anxious to turn the hearts of that lady's relatives in gratitude to that +spirit and testimony which this good man gives of all the branches of +their respectable family. + +Notwithstanding the remonstrance conveyed in the Bishop's letter, +concerning the publication of the Life of the real Margaret Catchpole, +over which the author had _then_ no more control than he now has, he +cannot help here expressing his gratitude to all those who, viewing the +narrative in the light of truth, and intention on the author's part to +convey a moral and spiritual warning and lesson in an easy and +instructive style, have written to him letters of approbation. + +The Bishop's letter, whilst it will animate the hearts of Mrs. Reibey's +real relatives, will also speak equally kindly to the descendants of the +real Margaret Catchpole, and will be the author's best proof of his +desire to convey the Bishop's love to them along with his own. The +wildest olive, when grafted into the true stem, must be productive of +good fruit. + +Mrs. Reibey, a high-spirited, romantic girl, from the neighbourhood of +Bury in Lancashire, of good family, with friends and relatives of +England's noblest merchants, conceived the idea that she should be +happier in our distant colony than in the Mother Country. She left +England very young, and, like many of her sex, succeeded in proving that +her enterprising spirit was not unrewarded. She lived respected by her +family and friends in England, and although mistaken by the good Bishop +himself, yet noble testimony is borne to the excellence of her +character. She was a clever woman of business, and of a noble +disposition. The author can only hope, that all her relatives and +friends who have written to him will thus accept at his hands the +apology for all the mistakes that have arisen; whilst, at the same time, +he rejoices to keep concealed the name of Margaret's real descendants +until they shall themselves divulge it. + + "SYDNEY, 18th April, 1845. + + "REVEREND SIR, + + "I was very much vexed to learn from your letter of the 15th inst. + the course which it is intended to be taken with reference to the + publication named in the Prospectus which you forwarded, and which + is now returned. My opinion entirely coincides with yours and Mr. + Hossall's as to the inexpediency of such an undertaking. It would + be cruel even to the individual, whoever it may be, to have early + offences thus placed permanently on record as a memorial of shame + and cause of annoyance to her younger and perfectly innocent + connexions. Indeed, if the party meant be the one whom allusions in + your letter lead me to conjecture, they who would suffer in their + feelings are not only innocent, but praiseworthy in a very high + degree for exertions in the cause of religion, and of the Church of + England, scarcely to be paralleled by any instance I have ever + known. The Bishop of Tasmania would regret equally with myself, + perhaps even more, that any pain should be occasioned to parties so + worthy of respect. If my conjecture be right, I happened once to be + in circumstances which placed other members of the same family + (young females just attaining to womanhood) under my close and + special attention, and I can truly testify the impression by me + was, that they were in character and deportment altogether + unexceptionable, and in habits of devotion very exemplary. Others I + know, are regarded by the clergyman of their parish as among the + best instructed and sober-minded of the communicants in his church. + + "My acquaintance with Mr. Cobbold is not such as I think would + justify my taking any step which would so carry the air of + remonstrance as that of my writing to him would. + + "It appears to me that as you have, through various circumstances, + been brought into correspondence with him, it would be more proper + that you should make a statement of the true facts, and of the view + which is taken of his proposal. At the same time, if you think it + would strengthen your case if he were acquainted with my + sentiments, I can have no objection to your communicating them; as + all my statements to you upon the subject have been in accordance + with them, and expressive of my satisfaction at witnessing the + exemplary conduct of the individuals whom I suppose to be alluded + to. + + "I remain, + "Reverend Sir, + "Your very faithful servant, + "W. G. AUSTRALIA. + + "REV. H. D. D. SPARLING, + "Parsonage, Appin." + +Mrs. Reibey is no more, and the author acknowledges the receipt of very +satisfactory letters from her and her relatives, all conveying their +free pardon for any unintentional pain, which might have been given to +an innocent and praiseworthy individual, but assuredly they did not +endure, and never could endure, the pangs which the author himself +received at the very thought of giving pain to others. + +He ever did admire the conduct of his mother towards her erring servant, +believing it to be as magnanimous and Christian-like as that of the +Bishop towards her supposed relatives, and though circumstances +compelled the prosecution in question, and the very prevalence of the +crime at the time made it too notorious to be disregarded,--the years of +intercourse, and passing presents to and fro, between the prosecutor and +the prisoner, made too deep an impression upon the young heart of the +author to be obliterated even in these his old days. + +He cannot help thinking that the removal of the _card_ which was placed +at the foot of the "Manura Superba," the first Lyra Pheasants sent from +that country to England, as a present from Margaret Catchpole to her +mistress, and presented by Mrs. Cobbold's eldest son to the Ipswich +Museum, simply because it stated the fact of her transportation, was, +however kind in intention, a mistake in point of judgement. The object +of all records of crime ought to be taken as warnings to others; though +the simple fact of such birds being sent as a grateful present from a +once poor transport, proves that the heart was not totally devoid of +grace, and that we should ourselves be more glad to see such a noble +token of love, in the days of poverty, than the most splendid monuments +of accumulated wealth. + +One duty only remains for the author, and that is the last and very +simple one of gratitude to the memory of those who loved his mother, as +well as to those living who were subscribers to the monument placed in +the Tower Church, Ipswich, to her memory. That duty is simply to record +the inscription engraved upon it; and the author does so, because, as +years increase, so much the brighter in his mind is the memory of the +talents and virtues of the departed. + + AS A PUBLIC TESTIMONY OF RESPECT + FOR EXALTED TALENTS AND UNWEARIED EXERTION + IN THE CAUSE OF BENEVOLENCE AND CHARITY + THIS MONUMENT IS ERECTED BY THE GENERAL + CONCURRENCE OF AN EXTENSIVE CIRCLE OF FRIENDS + TO THE MEMORY OF + + ELIZABETH COBBOLD + + THE BELOVED WIFE OF JOHN COBBOLD, ESQ. + OF HOLYWELLS + SHE DIED OCTOBER XVII, MDCCCXIV + AGED LIX + +Rectory, Wortham, Oct. 21st, 1858. + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: + +The intent of the corrections listed below is to restore the text to the +author's intent, as best as that can be surmised. Usually, a space is +left where a missing character should have appeared. Spelling varies and +has been retained, with the single exception noted below. + +p. 108 ["]Why he has got" + +p. 150 and be industrious[.] + +p. 171 they treat me scurvily[?/!] + +p. 264 Did you ever see a better shape[?] + +p. 310 the escape of any prisoner from the g[oa/ao]l + +p. 415 in order to [] my introduction: missing word + +p. 417 and came over to England[,/.] + +p. 420 Bishop[s'/'s] + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The History of Margaret Catchpole, by +Richard Cobbold + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORY OF MARGARET CATCHPOLE *** + +***** This file should be named 39326.txt or 39326.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/3/2/39326/ + +Produced by Tor Martin Kristiansen, KD Weeks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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