The Lady of Lynn

  CHAPTER VI

  THE MAID OF LYNN

  My earliest recollection as a child shows me Captain Crowle,full-wigged, with a white silk cravat round his neck, the lace endshanging down before, a crimson silk sash to his sword, long laceruffles, his brown coat with silver buttons, his worsted hose, andhis shoes with silver clocks. In my memory he is always carryinghis hat under his arm; a stout stick always dangled from hiswrist, in readiness; and he always presents the same honest face,weather-beaten, ruddy, lined, with his keen eyes under thick eyebrowsand his nose long and broad and somewhat arched--such a nose as lendsauthority to a man. In other words, I never saw any change in thecaptain, though, when I first remember him he must have beenfifty-five, and when he ceased to be seen in his old haunts he wasclose upon eighty.

  I have seen, however, and I remember, many changes in the captain'sward. She is a little thing of two or three at first; then she is amerry child of six; next she is a schoolgirl of ten or eleven; shegrows into a maiden of sixteen, neither girl nor woman; she becomes awoman of eighteen. I remember her in every stage. Strange to say I donot remember her between those stages.

  Molly had the misfortune to lose her father in infancy. He was carriedoff, I believe, by smallpox. He was a ship owner, and general merchantof the town, and was generally reputed to be a man of considerablemeans. At his death he bequeathed the care of his widow and his childto his old servant, Captain John Crowle, who had been in the serviceof the house since he was apprenticed as a boy. He directed, further,that Captain Crowle should conduct the business for the child, who byhis will was to inherit the whole of his fortune whatever that mightprove to be, on coming of age, after subtracting certain settlementsfor his widow.

  It was most fortunate for the child that her guardian was the mosthonest person in the world. He was a bachelor; he was bound by ties ofgratitude to the house which he had served; he had nothing to do andnothing to think about except the welfare of the child.

  I would have no secrets with my reader. Let it be known, therefore,that on looking into the position of affairs, the executor found thatthere was a much greater fortune for his ward than any one, even thewidow, ever guessed. There were houses in the town; there were farmsin Marshland; there were monies placed out on mortgage; there werethree or four tall ships, chiefly in the Lisbon trade; and there wereboxes full of jewels, gold chains, and trinkets, the accumulation ofthree or four generations of substantial trade. He kept this knowledgeto himself: then, as the expenses of the household were small andthere was always a large balance after the year in favour of thehouse, he went on adding ship to ship, house to house, and farm tofarm, besides putting out monies on the security of mortgage, so thatthe child, no one suspecting, grew richer and richer, until by thetime she was eighteen, if the captain only knew it, she became therichest heiress not only in the town of Lynn, but also in the wholecounty of Norfolk and even, I verily believe, in the whole country.

  I think that the captain must have been what is called a good man ofbusiness by nature. A simple sailor, one taught to navigate; to takeobservations; to keep a log and to understand a chart, is not supposedto be thereby trained for trade. But it must have been a far-seeingman who boldly launched out into new branches, and sent whalers to theArctic seas; ships to trade in the Baltic; and ships into theMediterranean, as well as ships in the old trade for which Lynn wasalways famous, that with Lisbon for wine. He it was who enlarged thequay and rebuilt the Common Stath Yard: his countinghouse--it wascalled his and he was supposed to be at least a partner--was filledwith clerks, and it was counted good fortune by the young men of theplace to enter his service whether as prentices on board his ships, oras bookkeepers in his countinghouse, or as supercargoes or pursers inhis fleet. For my own part it was always understood between us that Itoo was to enter his service, but as a sailor, not as a clerk. This Itold him as a little boy, with the impudence of childhood: he laughed;but he remembered and reminded me from time to time. "Jack is to be asailor--Jack will have none of your quill driving--Jack means to walkhis own quarter-deck. I shall live to give Jack his sword and histelescope" ... and so on, lest perchance I should forget and fall offand even accept the vicar's offer to get me a scholarship at somecollege of Cambridge, so that I might take a degree, and become myfather's usher and presently succeed him as master of the Grammarschool. "Learning," said the captain, "is a fine thing, but thecommand of a ship is a finer. Likewise it is doubtless a great honourto be a master of arts, such as your father, but, my lad, a rope's endis, to my mind, a better weapon than a birch." And so on. For while heknew how to respect the learning of a scholar, as he respected thepiety of the vicar, he considered the calling of the sailor moredelightful than that of the schoolmaster, even though not so highlyesteemed by the world.

  There were plenty of children in the town of Lynn to play with: but itcame about in some way or other, perhaps because I was always afavourite with the captain, and was encouraged to go often to thehouse, that Molly became my special playfellow. She was two yearsyounger than myself, but being forward in growth and strength thedifference was not a hindrance, while there was no game or amusementpleasing to me which did not please her. For instance, every boy ofLynn, as soon as he can handle a scull, can manage a dingy; and assoon as he can haul a rope, can sail a boat. For my own part I cannever remember the time when I was not in my spare time out on theriver. I would sail up the river, along the low banks of the sluggishstream up and down which go the barges which carry the cargoes of ourships to the inland towns and return for more. There are also tiltboats coming down the river which are like the waggons on the road,full of passengers, sailors, servants, soldiers, craftsmen,apprentices and the like. Or I would row down the river with thecurrent and the tide as far as the mouth where the river flows intothe Wash. Then I would sail up again watching the ships tacking acrossthe stream in their slow upward progress to the port. Or I would gofishing and bring home a basket full of fresh fish for the house: or Iwould paddle about in a dingy among the ships, watching them take inand discharge cargo: or receive from the barges alongside the casks ofpork and beef; of rum and beer and water, for the next voyage: happyindeed, if I could get permission to tie up the painter to the ropeladder hanging over the side and so climb up and ramble over everypart of the ship. And I knew every ship that belonged to the port:every Dutchman which put in with cheese and tallow, hardware and softgoods; every Norwegian that brought deal: I knew them all and whenthey were due and their tonnage and the name of the captain.

  More than this, Molly knew as much as I did. She was as handy with hersculls; she knew every puff of wind and where to expect it at the bendof the river; she was as handy with the sails. While her mother madeher a notable housewife and taught her to make bread, cakes, puddingsand pies; to keep the still-room; to sew and make and mend; to brewthe ale, both the strong and the small; and the punch for thecaptain's friends at Christmas and other festivals--while, I say, thispart of Molly's education was not neglected, it was I who made her asailor, so that there was nowhere in the place any one, man or boy orgirl, who was handier with a boat or more certain with a sail thanMolly. And I know not which of these two accomplishments pleased herguardian the more. That she should become a good housewife wasnecessary: that she should be a handy sailor was an accomplishmentwhich, because it was rare in a girl, and belonged to the work of theother sex, seemed to him a proper and laudable object of pride.

  The captain, as you have already learned, nourished a secret ambition.When I was still little more than a boy, he entrusted his secret tome. Molly's mother, the good homely body who was so notable ahousekeeper, and knew nothing, as she desired to know nothingconcerning the manners and customs of gentlefolk, was not consulted.Nor did the good woman even know how great an heiress her daughter hadbecome. Now, the captain's ambition was to make his ward, by means ofher fortune, a great lady. He knew little--poor man!--of what wasmeant by a great lady, but he wanted the heiress of such great wealthto marry some man who would lift her out
of the rank and condition towhich she was born. It was a fatal ambition, as you shall learn. Now,being wise after the event and quite able to lock the door after thehorse has been stolen I can understand that with such an ambition thecaptain's only plan was to have taken the girl away; perhaps toNorwich, perhaps to London itself; to have placed her under the careof some respectable gentlewoman; to have had her taught all thefashionable fal-lals, with the graces and the sprawls and the anticsof the fashionable world; to let it be buzzed abroad that she was anheiress, and then, after taking care to protect her againstadventurers, to find a man after his own mind, of station high enoughto make the girl's fortune equal to his own; not to overshadow it: andnot to dazzle him with possibilities of spending. However, it is easyto understand what might have been done.

  What was done, you understand. At nineteen, Molly was a fine tallgirl, as strong as any man, her arms stout and muscular like mine; herface rosy and ruddy with the bloom of health; her eyes blue andneither too large nor too small but fearless; her head and face large;her hair fair and blowing about her head with loose curls; her figurefull; her neck as white as snow; her hands large rather than small, byreason of the rowing and the handling of the ropes, and by no meanswhite; her features were regular and straight; her mouth not too smallbut to my eyes the most beautiful mouth in the world, the lips full,and always ready for a smile, the teeth white and regular. In a word,to look at as fine a woman, not of the delicate and dainty kind, butstrong, tall, and full of figure, as one may wish for. As to herdisposition she was the most tender, affectionate, sweet soul thatcould be imagined; she was always thinking of something to pleasethose who loved her; she spared her mother and worked for herguardian; she was always working at something; she was always happy;she was always singing. And never, until the captain told her, did shehave the least suspicion that she was richer than all her friends andneighbours--nay--than the whole town of Lynn with its merchants andshippers and traders, all together.

  You think that I speak as a lover. It is true that I have always lovedMolly: there has never been any other woman in the world for whom Ihave ever felt the least inclination or affection. She possessed mywhole soul as a child; she has it still--my soul--my heart--my wholedesire--my all. I will say no more in her praise, lest I be thought toexaggerate.

  Let me return for a moment to our childhood. We ran about together: wefirst played in the garden: we then played in the fields below thewall: we climbed over what is left of the wall: from the top of theGrey Friars' Tower; from the chapel on the Lady's Mount; we would lookout upon the broad expanse of meadows which were once covered over atevery high tide: there were stories which were told by old people ofbroken dams and of floods and inundations: children's imagination isso strong that they can picture anything. I would pretend that theflood was out again; that my companion was carried away in a hencoopand that I was swimming to her assistance. Oh! we had plays andpretences enough. If we went up the river there was beyond--what wecould never reach--a castle with a giant who carried off girls anddevoured them; he carried off my companion. Heavens! How I rushed tothe rescue and with nothing but the boathook encountered andslaughtered him. Or if we went down the river as far as the mouthwhere it falls into the Ouse, we would remember the pirates and howthey seized on girls and took them off to their caves to work forthem. How many pirates did I slay in defence and rescue of one girlwhom they dared to carry off!

  Or we rambled about the town, lingering on the quays, watching theships and the sailors and the workmen, and sometimes in summerevenings when from some tavern with its red curtain across the windowcame the scraping of a fiddle, and the voices of those who sang, andthe stamping of those who danced, we would look in at the open doorand watch the sailors within who looked so happy. Nobody can ever beso happy as sailors ashore appear to be: it is only the joy of amoment, but when one remembers it, one imagines that it was the joy ofa life-time. You think that it was a bad thing for children to look onat sailors and to listen to their conversation if one may use the wordof such talk as goes on among the class. You are wrong. These thingsdo not hurt children, because they do not understand. Half the dangersin the world, I take it, come from knowledge: only the other half fromignorance. Everybody knows the ways and the life of Jack ashore.Children, however, see only the outside of things. The fiddler in thecorner puts his elbow into the tune; the men get up and dance thehornpipe; the girls dance to the men, setting and jetting and turninground and round and all with so much mirth and good nature and so muchkindness and so much singing and laughing, that there can be no moredelightful entertainment for children than to look on at a sailors'merrymaking behind the red curtain of the tavern window.

  I recall one day. It was in the month of December, in the afternoonand close upon sunset. The little maid was about eight and I was ten.We were together as usual; we had been on the river, but it was coldand so we came ashore and were walking hand in hand along the streetthey call Pudding Lane which leads from the Common Stath Yard to themarket-place. In this lane there stands a sailors' tippling house,which is, I dare say, in all respects, such a house as sailors desire,provided and furnished according to their wants and wishes. As wepassed, the place being already lit up with two or three candles insconces, the door being wide open, and the mingled noise of fiddle,voices, and feet announcing the assemblage of company, Molly pulled meby the hand and stopped to look in. The scene was what I have alreadyindicated. The revelry of the evening had set in: everybody wasdrinking: one was dancing: the fiddler was playing lustily.

  We should have looked on for a minute and left them. But one of thesailors recognised Molly. Springing to his feet, he made a respectfulleg and saluted the child. "Mates," he cried, "'tis our owner! Thelittle lady owns the barky. What shall we do for her?"

  Then they all sprang to their feet with a huzza for the owner, andanother for the ship--and, if you will believe it, their roughfo'c'sle hands in half a minute had the child on the table in a chairlike a queen. She sat with great dignity, understanding in some waythat these men were in her own service, and that they designed no harmor affright to her but only to do her honour. Therefore she was not inany fear and smiled graciously; for my own part I followed and stoodat the table thinking that perhaps these fellows were proposing somepiratical abduction and resolving miracles of valour, if necessary.

  Then they made offerings. One man pulled a red silk handkerchief fromhis neck and laid it in her lap; and another lugged a box ofsweetmeats from his pocket: it came from Lisbon but was made, Ibelieve, in Morocco by the Moors. A third had a gold ring on hisfinger--everybody knows the extravagancies of sailors--which he drewoff and placed in her hand. Another offered a glass of punch. Thelittle maid did what she had so often seen the captain do. She lookedround and said, "Your good health, all the company," and put her lipsto the glass which she then returned. And another offered to dance andthe fiddler drew his bow across the catgut--it is a sound whichinclines the heart to beat and the feet to move whenever a sailorhears it.

  "I have often seen you dance," said Molly; "let the fiddler play andyou shall see me dance."

  I never thought she would have had so much spirit. For, you see, I hadtaught her to dance the hornpipe: every boy in a seaport town candance the hornpipe: we used to make music out of a piece of thin paperlaid over a tortoise-shell comb--it must be a comb of wide teeth andnone of them must be broken--and with this instead of a fiddle wewould dance in the garden or in the parlour. But to stand up before awhole company of sailors--who would have thought it? However, shejumped up and on the table performed her dance with great seriousnessand so gracefully that they were all enchanted: they stood around,their mouths open, a broad grin on every face: the women, neglected,huddled together in a corner and were quite silent.

  When she had finished, she gathered up her gifts--the silkhandkerchief--it came from Calicut, the sweetmeats from Morocco, thegold ring from I know not where. "Put me down, if you please," shesaid. So one of them gently lifted her to the ground. "I th
ank youall," she curtseyed very prettily. "I wish you good-night, and whenyou set sail again, a good voyage."

  So she took my hand and we ran away.

  At the age of thirteen I went to sea. Then for ten years I sailed outand home again; sometimes to the Baltic; sometimes to Bordeaux;sometimes to Lisbon. After every voyage I found my former companiongrown, yet always more lovely and more charming: the time came when weno longer kissed at parting; when we were no longer brother andsister; when, alas! we could not be lovers, because between us laythat great fortune of hers, which it would be improper to bestow uponthe mate of a merchantman.

  Said my father to me once by way of warning, "Jack, build not hopesthat will be disappointed. This maiden is not for thee, but for thybetters. If she were poor--but she is rich--too rich, I fear me, forher happiness. Let us still say in the words of Agur, 'Give me neitherpoverty nor riches.' Thou art as yet young for thoughts of love. Whenthe time comes, my son, cast your eyes among humbler maidens and findvirtues and charms in one of them. But think no more--I say it for thypeace--think no more of Molly. Her great riches are like a high wallbuilt round her to keep thee off, Jack, and others like unto thee."

  They were wise words, but a young man's thoughts are wilful. There wasno other maiden in whom I saw either virtues or charms because Mollyamong them all was like the silver moon among the glittering stars.

  You have heard of the great and unexpected discovery, how the townfound itself the possessor of a spa--and such a spa!--compared withwhich the waters of Tunbridge were feeble and those of Epsom not worthconsidering. That was in the year 1750, when Molly was alreadynineteen years of age and no longer a little maid, but a woman grown,as yet without wooers, because no one so far had been found fit, inthe captain's eyes, for the hand and the purse of his lovely ward.