The Lady of Lynn

  CHAPTER I

  MY LORD'S LEVEE

  It is three years later. We are now in the year 1750.

  At twelve o'clock in the morning the anteroom of the town house of theRight Honourable the Earl of Fylingdale was tolerably filled with amixed company attending his levee. Some were standing at the windows;some were sitting: a few were talking: most, however, were unknown toeach other, and if they spoke at all, it was only to ask each otherwhen his lordship might be expected to appear.

  As is customary at a great lord's levee there were present men of allconditions; they agreed, however, in one point, that they were allbeggars. It is the lot of the nobleman that he is chiefly courted forthe things that he can give away, and that the number of his friendsand the warmth of their friendship depend upon the influence he issupposed to possess in the bestowal of places and appointments.

  Among the suitors this morning, for instance, was a half-pay captainwho sought for a company in a newly raised regiment: he bore himselfbravely, but his face betrayed his anxiety and his necessities. Thepoor man would solicit his lordship in vain, but this he did not know,and so he would be buoyed up for a time with new hopes. Beside himstood a lieutenant in the navy, who wanted promotion and a ship. Ifgood service and wounds in battle were of any avail he should havecommanded both, but it is very well known that in the Royal Navy thereare no rewards for gallantry; men grow old without promotion: nothinghelps but interest: a man may remain a midshipman for life withoutinterest: never has it been known that without interest a ship hasbeen bestowed even upon the most deserving officer and after the mostsignal service. The lieutenant, too, would be cheered by a promise,and lulled by false hopes--but that he did not know.

  One man wanted a post in the admiralty: the pay is small but theperquisites and the pickings are large: for the same reason anotherasked for a place in the customs. A young poet attended with asubscription list and a dedication. He thought that his volume ofverse, once published, would bring him fortune, fame, and friends: he,too, would be disappointed. The clergyman wanted another living: oneof the fat and comfortable churches in the city: a deanery would notbe amiss: he was even ready to take upon himself the office of bishop,for which, indeed, he considered that his qualifications admirablyfitted him. Would his lordship exercise his all powerful influence inthe matter of that benefice or that promotion?

  A young man, whose face betrayed the battered rake, would be contentedeven with carrying the colours on the Cape Coast regiment if nothingbetter could be had. Surely his lordship would procure so small athing as that! If nothing could be found for him then--the common sideof the King's Bench Prison and rags and starvation until deathreleased him. Poor wretch! He was on his way to that refuge, but heknew it not; for my lord would promise to procure for him what hewanted.

  So they all waited, hungry and expectant, thinking how best to frametheir requests: how best to appear grateful before there was any callfor gratitude. Surely a nobleman must grow wearied with the assurancesof gratitude and promises of prayers. His experience must teach himthat gratitude is but a short-lived plant: a weed which commonlyflourishes for a brief period and produces neither flowers nor fruit;while as for the prayers, though we may make no doubt that the ferventprayer of the righteous availeth much, we are nowhere assured that theprayers of the worldly and the unrighteous are heard on behalf ofanother; while there is no certainty that the promised petition willever be offered up before the throne. Yet the suitors, day after day,repeat the same promise, and rely on the same belief. "Oh! my lord,"they say, or sing with one accord, "your name: your voice: yourinfluence: it is all that I ask. My gratitude: my life-long gratitude:my service: my prayers will all be yours."

  Soon after twelve o'clock the doors of the private apartments werethrown open and his lordship appeared, wearing the look of dignity andproud condescension combined, which well became the star he wore andthe ancient title which he had inherited. His age was about thirty, atime of life when there linger some remains of youth and the seriousresponsibilities are yet, with some men, hardly felt. His face wascold and proud and hard; the lips firmly set: the eyes keen and evenpiercing; the features regular: his stature tall, but not ungainly,his figure manly. It was remarkable, among those who knew himintimately, that there was as yet no sign of luxurious living on faceand figure. He was not as yet swelled out with wine and punch: hisneck was still slender; his face pale, without any telltale marks ofwine and debauchery; so far as appearance goes he might pass if hechose, for a person of the most rigid and even austere virtue. This,as I have said, was considered remarkable by his friends, most of whomwere already stamped on face and feature and figure with the outwardand visible tokens of a profligate life. For, to confess the truth atthe very beginning and not to attempt concealment, or to suffer afalse belief as regards this nobleman, he was nothing better than acold-blooded, pitiless, selfish libertine; a rake, and a voluptuary;one who knew and obeyed no laws save the laws of (so-called) honour.These laws allow a man to waste his fortune at the gaming table: toruin confiding girls: to spend his time with rake hell companions indrink and riot and debauchery of all kinds. He must, however, pay hisgambling debts: he must not cheat at cards; he must be polite inspeech: he must be ready to fight whenever the occasion calls for hissword, and the quarrel seems of sufficient importance. LordFylingdale, however, was not among those who found his chief pleasurescouring the streets and in mad riot. You shall learn, in due course,what forms of pleasure chiefly attracted him.

  I have said that his face was proud. There was not, I believe, any manliving in the whole world, who could compare with Lord Fylingdale forpride. An overwhelming pride sat upon his brow; was proclaimed by hiseyes and was betrayed by his carriage. With such pride did Luciferlook round upon his companions, fallen as they were, and in the depthsof hopeless ruin.

  In many voyages to foreign parts I have seen something of foreignpeoples; every nation possesses its own nobility; I suppose that king,lords and commons is the order designed for human society byProvidence. But I think that there is nowhere any pride equal to thepride of the English aristocracy. The Spaniard, if I have observed himaright, wraps himself in the pride of birth as with a cloak: it isoften a tattered cloak: poverty has no terrors for him so long as hehas his pride of birth. Yet he tolerates his fellow-countrymen whom hedoes not despise because they lack what most he prizes. The Englishnobleman, whether a peer or only a younger son, or a nephew or acousin, provided he is a sprig of quality, disdains and despises allthose who belong to the world of work, and have neither title, norpedigree, nor coat of arms. He does not see any necessity forconcealing this contempt. He lacks the courtesy which would hide it inthe presence of the man of trade or the man of a learned profession.To be sure, the custom of the country encourages him, because to himis given every place and every preferment. He fills the House ofCommons as well as the House of Lords: he commands our armies, ourregiments, even the companies in the regiments: he commands our fleetsand our ships: he holds all the appointments and draws all thesalaries: he makes our laws, and, as justice of the peace, headministers them: he receives pensions, having done nothing to deservethem; he holds sinecures which require no duties. And the people whodo the work--the merchants who bring wealth to the country: themanufacturers; the craftsmen; the farmers; the soldiers who fight thewars which the aristocracy consider necessary; the sailor who carriesthe flag over the world: all these are supposed to be sufficientlyrewarded with a livelihood while they maintain the nobility and theirchildren in luxury and in idleness and are received and treated withcontempt.

  I speak of what I have myself witnessed. This man's pride I havecompared with the pride of Lucifer. You shall learn while I narratethe things which follow, that he might well be compared, as regardshis actions as well, with that proud and presumptuous spirit.

  He was dressed in a manner becoming to his rank: need we dwell uponhis coat of purple velvet; his embroidered waistcoat; his white silkstockings; his lace of ruffles and cravat; his gol
d buckles and hisgold clocks; his laced hat carried under his arm; his jewelled swordhilt and the rings upon his fingers? You would think, by his dress,that his wealth was equal to his pride, and, by his reception of thesuitors, that his power was equal to both pride and wealth together.

  The levee began; one after the other stepped up to him, spoke a fewwords, received a few words in reply and retired, each, apparently,well pleased. For promises cost nothing. To the poet who asked for asubscription and preferred a dedication, my lord promised the former,accepted the latter, and added a few words of praise and good wishes.But the subscription was never paid; and the dedication was afterwardsaltered so far as the superscription, to another noble patron. To theclergyman who asked for a country living then vacant, my lord promisedthe most kindly consideration and bade him write his request and sendit him by letter, for better assurance of remembrance. To the officerhe promised his company as only due to gallantry and military skill:to the place hunter he promised a post far beyond the dreams and thehopes of the suppliant. Nothing more came of it to either.

  The company grew thin: one after the other, the suitors withdrew tofeed on promises. It is like opening your mouth to drink the wind. But'twas all they got.

  Among those who remained to the last was a man in the dress of asubstantial shopkeeper, with a brown cloth coat and silver buttons.He, when his opportunity arrived, advanced and bowed low to my lord.

  "Sir," said his lordship, with gracious, but cold looks, "in what waymay I be of service to you?"

  "With your lordship's permission, I would seek a place in yourhousehold--any place--scullion in the kitchen, or groom to thestable--any place."

  "Why should I give you a place? Have I room in my household for everybroken cit?"

  "My lord, it is to save me from bankruptcy and the King's Bench. It isto save my wife and children from destitution. There are already manyshopkeepers in Westminster and the city who have been admittedservants in the households of noblemen. It is no new thing--yourlordship must have heard of the custom."

  "I do not know why I should save thy family or thyself. However, thisis the affair of my steward. Go and see him. Tell him that a place inmy household will save thee from bankruptcy and prison--it may be thata place is vacant."

  The man bowed again and retired. He knew very well what was meant. Hewould have to pay a round sum for the privilege. This noble lord, likemany others of his rank, took money, through his steward, for nominalplaces in his household, making one citizen yeoman of his dairy; inLeicester Fields, perhaps, where no dairy could be placed; anothersteward of the granaries, having in the town neither barns norstorehouses nor ricks: a third, clerk to the stud book, having no racehorses; and so on. Thus justice is defeated, a man's creditors may bedefied and a man may escape payment of his just debts.

  When he was gone, Lord Fylingdale looked round the room. In the windowstood, dangling a cane from his wrist, a gentleman dressed in thehighest and the latest fashion. In his left hand he held a snuffboxadorned with the figure of a heathen goddess. To those who know themeaning of fashion it was evident that he was in the front rank,belonging to the few who follow or command, the variations of thepassing hour. These descend to the smallest details. I am told thatthe secrets of the inner circle, the select few, who lead the fashion,are displayed for their own gratification in the length of the cravat,the colour of the sash, the angle of the sword, the breadth of theruffles, the width of the skirts, the tye of the wig. They are alsoshown in the mincing voice, and the affected tone, and the use of thelatest adjectives and oaths. Yet, when one looked more closely, it wasseen that this gallant exterior arrayed an ancient gentleman whoseyears were proclaimed by the sharpening of his features, the wrinklesof his feet, the crows'-feet round his eyes, and his bending shoulderswhich he continually endeavoured to set square and upright. Hat in onehand, and snuffbox in the other, he ambled towards his lordship ontiptoe, which happened just then to be the fashionable gait.

  "Thy servant, Sir Harry"--my lord offered him his hand withcondescension. "It warms my heart to see thee. Therefore I sent aletter. Briefly, Sir Harry, wouldst do me a service?"

  "I am always at your lordship's commands. This, I hope, I haveproved."

  "Then, Sir Harry, this is the case. It is probable that for certainprivate reasons, I may have to pay a visit to a country town--a townof tarpaulins and traders, not a town of fashion"--Sir Harryshuddered--"patience, my friend. I know not how long I shall endurethe barbaric company. But I must go--there are reasons--let mewhisper--reasons of state--important secrets which call me there"--SirHarry smiled and looked incredulous--"I want, on the spot, afriend"--Sir Harry smiled again, as one who began to understand--"afriend who would appear to be a stranger. Would you, therefore, playthe part of such a friend?"

  "I will do whatever your lordship commands. Yet to leave town at thisseason"--it was then the month of April--"the assembly, the park, thecard table--the society of the ladies----"

  "The loss will be theirs, Sir Harry. To lose their old favourite--oh!there will be lamentations, at the rout---- Perhaps, however, we mayfind consolations."

  "Impossible. There are none out of town, except at Bath orTunbridge----"

  "The ladies of Norfolk are famous for their beauty."

  "Hoydens--I know them,

  "'I who erst beneath a tree Sung, Bumpkinet, and Bowzybee, And Blouzelind and Marian bright In aprons blue or aprons white,'

  "as Gay hath it. Hoydens, my lord, I know them. They play whist anddance jigs."

  "The Norfolk gentlemen drink hard and the wine is good."

  "Nay, my lord, this is cruel. For I can drink no longer."

  "I shall find other diversions for you. It is possible--Isay--possible--that the Lady Anastasia may go there as well. She will,as usual, keep the bank if she does go."

  The old beau's face cleared, whether in anticipation of LadyAnastasia's society or her card table I know not.

  "My character, Sir Harry, will be in your hands. I leave it thereconfidently. For reasons--reasons of state--it should be a characterof...."

  "I understand. Your lordship is a model of all the virtues----"

  "So--we understand. My secretary will converse with thee further onthe point of expenditure."

  Sir Harry retired, bowing and twisting his body something like an ape.

  Then a gentleman in scarlet presented himself.

  "Your lordship's most obedient," he said, with scant courtesy. "I comein obedience to your letter--for command."

  "Colonel, you will hold yourself in readiness to go into the country.There will be play--you may lose as much as you please--to Sir HarryMalyus or to any one else whom my secretary will point out to you.Perhaps you may have to receive a remonstrance from me. We arestrangers, remember, and I am no gambler, though I sometimes take acard."

  "I await your lordship's further commands." So he, too, retired. Aproper well-set-up figure he was, with the insolence of the trooper inhis face, and the signs of strong drink on his nose. Any one who knewthe town would set him down for a half-pay captain, a sharper, abully, a roysterer, one who lived by his wits, one who was skilled inbilliards and commonly lucky at any game of cards. Perhaps such ajudgment of the gallant colonel would not be far wrong.

  There remained one suitor. He was a clergyman dressed in a fine silkcassock with bands of the whitest and a noble wig of the orderEcclesiastic. I doubt if the archbishop himself had a finer. He was inall respects a divine of the superior kind: a dean, perhaps; anarchdeacon, perhaps; a canon, rector, vicar, chaplain, with a dozenbenefices, no doubt. His thin, slight figure carried a head too bigfor his body. His face was sallow and thin, the features regular; hebore the stamp of a scholar and had the manner of a scoffer. He spokeas if he was in the pulpit, with a voice loud, clear and resonant, asthough the mere power of hearing that voice diffused around him theblessings of virtue and piety and a clear conscience.

  "Good, my lord," he said, "I am, as usual, a suppliant. The rectory ofSt. Le
onard le Size, Jewry, in the city, is now vacant. With my smallbenefices in the country, it would suit me hugely. A word from yourlordship to the lord mayor--the rectory is in the gift of thecorporation--would, I am sure, suffice."

  "If, my old tutor, the thing can be done by me, you may consider it assettled. There are, however, I would have you to consider, one or twoscandals still outstanding, the memory of which may have reached theears of the city. These city people, for all their ignorance offashion, do sometimes hear of things. The little affair at Bath, forinstance----"

  "The lady hath since returned to her own home. It is now quiteforgotten and blown over. My innocency is always well known to yourlordship."

  "Assuredly. Has that other little business at Oxford blown over? Arecertain verses still attributed to the Reverend Benjamin Purdon?"

  His reverence lightly blew upon his fingers. "That report is nowforgotten. But 'tis a censorious world. One man is hanged for lookingover a gate while another steals a pig and is applauded. As for theauthor of those verses, he still remains undiscovered, while theverses themselves--a deplorable fact--are handed about for the joy ofthe undergraduates."

  "Next time, then, steal the pig. Frankly, friend Purdon, thy name isnone of the sweetest, and I doubt if the bishop would consent.Meantime, you are living, as usual, I suppose, at great expense----"

  "At small expense, considering my abilities; but still at greaterexpense than my slender income will allow. Am I not your lordship'sdomestic chaplain? Must I not keep up the dignity due to theposition?"

  "Your dignity is costly. I must get a bishopric or a deanery for you.Meantime I have a small service to ask of you."

  "Small? My lord, let it be great: it cannot be too great."

  "It is that you go into the country for me."

  "Not to Bath--or to Oxford?" His reverence betrayed an anxiety on thispoint which was not quite in harmony with his previous declarations.

  "Not to either. To another place, where they know not thy name or thyfame. Very good. I thought I could depend upon your loyalty. As forarrangements and time, you will hear from my secretary." So my lordturned on his heel and his chaplain was dismissed. He remained for amoment, looking after his master doubtfully. The order liked him not.He was growing old and would have chosen, had he the power of choice,some fat city benefice with two or three country livings thrown in. Hewas tired of his dependence: perhaps he was tired of a life that illbecame his profession: perhaps he could no longer enjoy it as of old.There was, at least, no sign of repentance as there was no touch ofthe spiritual life in his face, which was stamped with the plain andvisible marks of the world, the flesh and the devil. What is thatstamp? Nobody can paint it, or describe it: yet it is understood andrecognised whenever one sees it. And it stood out legible so that allthose who ran might read upon the face of this reverend and learneddivine.

  When the levee was finished and everybody gone, Lord Fylingdale sankinto a chair. I know not the nature of his thoughts save that theywere not pleasant, for his face grew darker every moment. Finally, hesprang to his feet and rang the bell. "Tell Mr. Semple that I wouldspeak with him," he ordered.

  Mr. Semple, the same Samuel whom you have seen under a basting fromthe captain, was now changed and for the better. His dress was simple.No one could guess from his apparel the nature of his occupation. Forall professions and all crafts there is a kind of uniform. The divinewears gown and cassock, bands and wig, which proclaim his calling: thelawyer is also known by his gown and marks his rank at the bar by coifand wig: the attorney puts on broadcloth black of hue: the physicianassumes black velvet, a magisterial wig, and a gold-headed cane. Theofficer wears the King's scarlet; the nobleman his star: the sprig ofquality puts on fine apparel and assumes an air and manner unknown toCheapside and Ludgate Hill: you may also know him by his speech. Themerchant wears black velvet with gold buttons, gold buckles, whitesilk stockings and a gold-laced hat; the shopkeeper substitutes silverfor gold and cloth for velvet: the clerk has brown cloth metal buttonsand worsted stockings. As for the crafts, has not each its own jacket,sleeves, apron, cap, and badge?

  But for this man, where would we place him? What calling did herepresent? For he wore the flowered waist-coat--somewhat frayed andstained, of a beau, and the black coat of the merchant: the worstedstockings of the clerk and his metal buttons. Yet he was neithergentleman, merchant, shopkeeper, clerk, nor craftsman. He was a memberof that fraternity which is no fraternity because there is nobrotherhood among them all; in which every man delights to slander,gird at, and to depreciate his brother. In other words he wore thedress--which is no uniform--of a poet. At this time he also calledhimself secretary to his lordship having by ways known only tohimself, and by wrigglings up back stairs, and services of a kindnever proclaimed to the world, made himself useful. The position alsogranted him, as it granted certain tradesmen, immunity from arrest. Hehad the privilege of walking abroad through a street full of hungeringcreditors, and that, not on Sundays only, like most of his tribe, buton every day in the week.

  He obeyed the summons and entered the room with a humble cringe.

  "Semple," said his lordship, crossing his legs and playing with thetassel of his sword knot, "I have read thy letter----"

  "Your lordship will impute----"

  "First, what is the meaning of the preamble?"

  "I have been your lordship's secretary for six months. I havetherefore perused all your lordship's letters. I have also in my zealfor your lordship's interests--looked about me. And I discovered--whatI ventured to state in that preamble."

  "Well, sir?"

  "Namely, that the Fylingdale estates are gone so far as yourlordship's life is concerned--but--in a word, all is gone. Andthat--your lordship will pardon the plain truth--your lordship'scredit cannot last long and that--I now touch a most delicate point toa man of your lordship's nice sense of honour--the only resource leftis precarious."

  "You mean?"

  "I mean--a certain lady and a certain bank."

  "How, sir? Do you dare? What has put this suspicion into your head?"

  "Nay, my lord--I have no thought but for your lordship's interests,believe me."

  "And so you tell me about the rustic heiress, and you propose aplan----"

  "I have had the temerity to do so."

  "Yes. Tell me once more about this girl--and about her fortune."

  "Her name is Molly Miller: she is an orphan: her guardian is an honestsailor who has taken the greatest care of her property. She was anheiress already when her father died. That was eighteen years ago; sheis now nineteen."

  "Is she passable--to look at? A hoyden with a high colour, I warrant."

  "A cream-coloured complexion, touched with red and pink: light hair incurls and blue eyes; the face and figure of a Venus; the sweetestmouth in the world and the fondest manner."

  "Hang me if the fellow isn't in love with her, himself! If she is allthis, man, why not apply yourself, for the post of spouse?"

  "Because her guardian keeps off all would-be lovers and destines hisward for a gentleman at least--for a nobleman, he hopes."

  "He is ambitious. Now as to her fortune."

  "She has a fleet of half a dozen tall vessels--nay, there are more,but I know not how many. I was formerly clerk in a countinghouse ofthe town and I learned a great deal--what each is worth and what thefreight of each voyage may produce--but not all. The captain, herguardian, keeps things close. My lord, I can assure you, from what Ilearned in that capacity and by looking into old books, that she mustbe worth over a hundred thousand pounds--over a hundred thousandpounds! My lord, there is no such heiress in the city. In yourlordship's interests I have enquired in the taverns where themerchants' clerks congregate. They know of all the city heiresses. Thegreatest, at this moment, is the only daughter of a tallow chandlerwho has twenty thousand to her name. She squints."

  "Why have you given me this information? The girl belongs to yourfriends--are you anxious for her happiness? You know my way of life.Would t
hat way make her happier?"

  The man made no reply.

  "Come, Semple, out with it. Your reasons--gratitude--to me--or revengeupon an enemy?"

  The man coloured. He looked up: he stood upright but for a momentonly. Then his eyes dropped and his shoulders contracted.

  "Gratitude, my lord, to you," he replied. "Revenge? Why what reasonshould I have for revenge?"

  "How should I know of any? Let it be gratitude, then."

  "I have ventured to submit--not a condition--but a prayer."

  "I have read the clause. I grant it. On the day after the marriage ifthe plan comes to anything, I will present thee to a place where thereare no duties and many perquisites. That is understood. I would putthis promise in writing but no writing would bind me more than myword."

  "Yet I would have the promise in writing."

  "You are insolent, sirrah."

  "I am protecting myself. My lord, I must speak openly in this matter.How many promises have you made this morning? How many will you keep?I must not be pushed aside with such a promise."

  Lord Fylingdale made no reply.

  "I offer you a fortune of a hundred thousands pounds and more."

  "I can now take this fortune without your assistance."

  "With submission, my lord, you cannot. I know too much."

  "What shall I write, then?"

  "I am only reasonable. The girl's fortune when you have it will go thesame way as your rents and woods have gone. Provide for me, therefore,before you begin to spend that money."

  "Semple, I did not think you had so much courage. Learn that a dozentimes I have been on the point of kicking you out of the house. Now,"he rose, "give me paper and a pen--and I will write this promise."

  Semple placed a chair at the table and laid paper and pen before it."Let me presume so far as to dictate the promise," he said. "Iundertake and promise that on the day after my marriage with the girlnamed Molly Miller, I will give Samuel Semple such a place as willprovide him for life with a salary of not less than L200 a year.So--will your lordship sign it?"

  He took up this precious paper from the table, read it, folded it andput it in his pocket.

  "What next?" asked his patron.

  "I am preparing a scheme which will give a plausible excuse for yourlordship's visit to the town. I have already suggested that certainfriends should prepare the way. The lady's guardian has prejudices infavour of morality and religion. They are, I know, beneath yourlordship's notice--yet still--it will be in fact, necessary that yourlordship's character shall be such as will commend itself to thisunfashionable old sailor."

  "We will speak again upon this point. The girl you say has no lover."

  "She has no lover. Your lordship's rank: your manner: your appearancewill certainly carry the day. By contrast alone with the countrybumpkins the heart of the girl will be won."

  "Mr. Semple," his lordship yawned. "Do you suppose that the heart ofthe girl concerns me? Go and complete your scheme--of gratitude, notrevenge."