Page 39 of The Lady of Lynn


  CHAPTER XXXVII

  THE BUBBLE AND THE SKY ROCKET

  This was Molly's last appearance at the assembly.

  Next day we heard that our distinguished visitors, the Prince ofPurity--or the Prince of Darkness, which you please--the Lady of theGreen Cloth, Sir Harry Decoy-Duck, and Colonel Bully Barabbas, withthe Reverend Ananias and the ingenious Sam, first favourite of theMuses, had all gone away--whether they went away together orseparately I never heard.

  The opinion of the company as to the exposure and the marriage wasdivided. For some thought that Molly was nothing better than a womanwho did not know her own mind; that she was first dazzled and carriedoff her head by the brilliant offer that was dangled before her; that,on Lord Fylingdale's request she consented to the private marriage;that she became afterwards afraid of the greatness for which she wasnot fitted either by birth or education, and thought to escape by hardlying and a strenuous denial of the fact. I fear that this opinion wasthat of the majority. For, they added, there was without any doubt amarriage; it was performed by the clergyman who by his learning,eloquence, and piety had made so many friends during his short stay,and it was witnessed by the parish clerk. If Molly was not the bridewho could be found so closely to resemble her as to deceive the parishclerk?

  When it was objected that the private character both of his lordshipand his late tutor was of the kind publicly alleged, thesephilosophers asked for proof--as if proof could be adduced in a publicassembly. And they asked further if it was reasonable to suppose thatan eloquent divine, whose discourses had edified so many couldpossibly be the reprobate and profligate as stated by the vicar? Asfor his lordship there is, as everybody knows, an offence called_scandalum magnatum_, which renders a person who defames a peeror attacks his honour liable to prosecution, fine, and imprisonment.

  "We shall presently," they said, "find this presumptuous vicar haledbefore the courts and fined, or imprisoned, for _scandalum magnatum_."

  But the vicar, when this was reported to him, only laughed and said heshould be rejoiced to put his lordship under examination.

  Others there were, principally townsfolk, who had known Molly all herlife. They agreed that she was a woman of sober mind; not given tovapours or any such feminine weaknesses; not likely to be carried awayby terrors; and incapable of falsehood. If she declared that she wasnot married, she certainly was not married. The business might beexplained in some way; but of one thing they were very sure--thatMolly, since she said so, was not married. This view was strongly heldby the "Society" of King's Lynn at their evening meetings.

  It must be owned that the departure of the vivacious and affable LadyAnastasia with that of the agreeable rattle of seventy-five, SirHarry, and that of the pious Purdon, who had also become a favouritewith the ladies, proved a heavy blow to the gaieties of the assemblyand the long room. The card room was deserted; conversation in thegarden and the pump room became flat; the gentlemen who had gambled atthe hazard table now carried on their sport--perhaps lessdangerously--at the tavern; many of them, having lost a great dealmore than they could afford, were now gloomy; there were no morepublic breakfasts; no more water parties up or down the river; no morebowls of punch after the dance. In a word the spirit went out of thecompany; the spa became dull.

  Let me finish with the story of this mushroom. I call it a mushroombecause it appeared, grew, and vanished in a single season. You mayalso call it a sky rocket if you please, or, indeed, anything whichsprings into existence in a moment, and in a moment dies. Perhaps wemay liken it most to a bubble such as boys blow from soap suds. Itfloated in the sunshine for a brief space, glowing with the colours ofthe rainbow; then it burst and vanished, leaving nothing behind butthe memory of it.

  The company, I say, after the departure of the party from London,became almost immediately dull and out of spirits. The music alone wasgay; many of the ladies lamented loudly that they had ever come to aplace where the nightly gambling had played havoc with their husbands,fathers, or sons. They found out that the lodgings were cramped,dirty, ill-furnished, inconvenient, and exorbitant in their cost; thatthe provisions were dear; that they had already taken the waters for amonth or more; and that, in effect, it was high time to go home.Besides, their own houses in the summer, the season of fruit andflowers, with their orchards and their gardens, were certainly moreattractive than the narrow streets and the confined air of Lynn.

  Therefore, some making this excuse and some that, they all with oneconsent began to pack up their baggage and to go home.

  The departure of our friends from London took place in the middle ofJune; by the end of June the season was over--the visitors gone. Atfirst the people expected new arrivals, but there were none--theseason was over. The market-place for a while was crowded with thewomen who brought their poultry and fruit and provisions from thecountry. When they found that no one came to buy, they graduallyceased to appear. Great was the lamentation over the abundance whichwas wasted, and the produce of their gardens doomed to ripen and torot.

  Then the strolling players put their dresses and properties into awaggon and went away complaining that they were half starved, whichwas, I dare say, the simple truth. Next, all the show folk and thequacks, and the Cheap Jacks and tumblers and Tom Fools went away too,and the gipsies brought in no more horses, and the streets became oncemore silent and deserted, save on the quays and on the river, just asthey had been before the spa was opened.

  And then the music and the horns were sent away; the master of theceremonies received his salary and went back to Norwich; the gardenswere closed; the dippers vanished; the pump room was left for any whochose to dip and draw for themselves; the hairdressers, milliners,vendors of cosmetics, powders, paint, and patches all vanished as bymagic; the coffee houses were closed; the bookseller carried his booksback to Cambridge or wherever he came from; the confectioner left offmaking his famous cakes; and the morning prayers were once more readto a congregation of one or two.

  The townsfolk, then, having nothing else to do, began to count theirgains. The doctor, you remember, prophesied at the outset that allwould become rich. What happened was that everybody had made largegains. The takings of the shops had been far greater than they had atany previous time hoped for or experienced. On the other hand theshopkeepers had laid in large and valuable stocks which now seemedlikely to remain on their hands. Moreover, as always happens, thetemporary prosperity had been taken for a continuing, or even anincreasing prosperity, with the consequence that the people hadlaunched out into an extravagant way of living, the smallestshopkeeper demanding mutton and beef instead of the fat pork and hotmilk which had formerly been counted a good dinner, drinking the wineof Lisbon and Madeira where he formerly drank small ale, and eventaking his dish of tea in the afternoon for the good of his megrimsand the clearance of his ill humours.

  Oh! but the next year would bring another flood of fortune; they couldwait. Therefore they passed the winter in such habits of profusenessas I have indicated. Spring arrived, and they began to furbish theirlodgings anew and to look to their stores and stocks. The month of Maybrought warmth and sunshine, but it did not bring the expectedcompany. May passed; June passed. To the unspeakable consternation ofthe town, no visitors came at all--none. With one consent all stayedat home or went elsewhere. I have never heard any explanation of thisremarkable falling off. That is to say, there were many reasonsoffered, but none that seemed sufficient. Thus, the ladies of Norfolkhad taken a holiday which was costly and could not be repeated everyyear. It was like a visit to London, which is made once in a life andis talked about for the rest of that life. Or the losses of thegentlemen at the gaming table frightened them; they would not again beled into temptation; or the grand invention of Sam Semple had to beblown upon; or the rheumatic and the gouty who had taken the watersnow found that they were in no way the better; or the scandal of thoseconspirators in high rank drove people away--indeed, such an exposurecould do no good to any place of resort.

  There were, therefore,
after the event, many explanations offered, andevery one may choose for himself. It is, however, certain that novisitors came; that the pump room was deserted, save for the fewpeople of the town; that there was no need to engage music or toprovide provisions or do anything, for no one came. The spa hadenjoyed its brief hour of popularity, and was now dead.

  This was a blow to the town, from which it was slow, indeed, torecover. Many of the shopkeepers were unable to pay their rents or tosell their stocks. Simplicity of manners returned with the fat porkand the hot milk; and as for the promised accession of wealth, Ibelieve that the spa left our people poorer than it found them.

  I have been told that this has been the fate of many spas. First thereis a blind belief in the sovereign virtue of the well; at the outsetthe place is crowded with visitors; there is every kind of amusementand pleasure; then this confidence becomes less and presently vanishesaltogether, and is transferred to some other well. As faith decays sothe company grows thinner and less distinguished. There was formerly,I believe, a fashionable spa near London, at a place called Hampstead.This spa had such a rise, such a period of prosperity, and such afall. Another spa which also rose, flourished and then decayed and isnow deserted, was the spa of Epsom, a village some miles south ofLondon. These places, however, lasted more than a single season. Ourspa lived but for two or three short months and then passed away. Tobe sure it was a pretence and a sham from the outset, but people didnot know its origin; Sam Semple, its sole creator, remained unknownand unsuspected.

  I know not, I say, how the belief in the doctor's well came sosuddenly to an end. I do know, however, that the disappointment of thedoctor, and, with him, all who let lodgings, kept taverns, providedvictuals, and sold things of any kind, was very bitter when the nextspring brought no company. They waited, I say, expectant, all throughthe summer. When it became quite certain that the spa was really dead,they began sorrowfully to pull down the rooms and to take away thefence, and they left the gardens to weeds and decay. And then the townrelapsed once more into its former, and present, condition. That is tosay, it became again unknown to the fashionable world; the gentry ofNorfolk resorted to Norwich again; they forgot that they once came toLynn; the place lies in a corner with the reclaimed marshes on eitherhand; it is inaccessible except to those whose business takes themthere; travellers do not visit the town; it is not like Harwich, orDover, or Hull, a place which carries on communication by packet withforeign countries; it is a town shrunken within its former limits, itscourts encumbered with deserted and ruinous houses, its streets quietand silent. Yet it is prosperous in a quiet way; it has its foreigntrade, its port, and its shipping; its merchants are substantial; thelife which they lead is monotonous, but they do not feel the monotony.Except for an occasional riot among drunken sailors there is no workfor the justices of the peace, and no occupants of the prison. Atleast we have no great lady using her charms, her gracious smiles, herrank in order to lure our young men to their destruction; we have noprofligate parsons; we have no noble lords parading in the borrowedplumes of saint and confessor.