The Chaplain of the Fleet

by Walter Besant

  CHAPTER IX.

  HOW LORD CHUDLEIGH WENT TO LONDON.

  Without telling any one of his intention, Lord Chudleigh posted onemorning to town. I was acquainted with this news by Miss Peggy Baker,who informed me of it in her kindest manner.

  "Dear Miss Pleydell," she said, after morning service, as we werecoming out of church, "have you heard the dreadful news?"

  "I have heard no news," I replied.

  "We have lost the chief ornament of the company. Yes; you may well turnpale"--I am sure I did nothing of the kind--"Lord Chudleigh has leftEpsom--some say for the season: some say on account of some distastehe has conceived for the place: some say on account of previousengagements."

  "What kind of engagements?"

  "I thought you would ask that. It is rumoured that he is shortly to bemarried to a young lady of good birth and with a fortune equal to hisown. It is certain that he will not return."

  "Really!" said Nancy, who had now come to my aid, "how shall you beable to exist, dear Miss Peggy, without him?"

  "I? Oh, indeed, I am not concerned with Lord Chudleigh."

  "I mean, how can you exist when the principal subject for scandaloustalk, and the chief cause of anonymous letters, is removed?"

  She blushed and bit her lips.

  "I think, Miss Levett," she gasped, "that you allow your tongue greaterliberties than are consistent with good-breeding."

  "Better the tongue than the pen, dear Miss Baker," replied Nancy."Come, Kitty, we will go weep the absence of this truant lord."

  "The Temple still remains--he! he!" said Miss Baker.

  This was a conversation at which I could laugh, spiteful though it was.I knew not that my lord was gone away, nor why. But one thing I knewvery well. He was not gone to marry any one. If that can be called easewhich was mostly shame, I felt easy, because ordinary jealousy was notpossible with me. He _could not marry, if he wished_. Poor lad! hisfate was sealed with mine.

  Yet, thinking over what might happen, I resolved that night upon athing which would perhaps incense my uncle, the Doctor, beyond allmeasure. I resolved that should that thing happen which most I dreaded,that my lord should fall in love with another woman, I would myself,without his ever knowing who had done it, release him from his ties.I knew where the Doctor kept his registers: I would subtract the leafwhich certified our union, and would send it to my lord; or should theDoctor, as was possible, propose any legal action, I would refuse toappear or to act. Now without me the Doctor was powerless.

  Lord Chudleigh went to town, in fact, to see the Doctor. He drove tohis town house in St. James's Square, and in the morning he salliedforth and walked to the Fleet Market.

  The Reverend Doctor Shovel was doing a great and splendid business.Already there were rumours of the intention of Government to bring in abill for the suppression of these lawless Fleet marriages. Therefore,in order to stimulate the lagging, he had sent his messengers, touters,and runners abroad in every part of the city, calling on all those whowished to be married secretly, or to avoid wedding expenses, feasts,and junketings, and to be securely married, to make haste, while therewas yet time. Therefore there was a throng every day from seven inthe morning, of prentices with their masters' daughters, old men withtheir cooks, tradesmen who would avoid the feasting, sailors home fora few weeks, as eager to marry a wife as if they were to be home forthe whole of their natural lives, officers who wanted to secure anheiress, and many honest folk who saw in a Fleet wedding the easiestway of avoiding the expenses of their friends' congratulations, withthe foolish charges of music, bells, dancing, and rejoicing which oftencripple a young married couple for years. Why, the parents connivedwith the girls, and when these ran away early in the morning, and camehome falling upon their knees to confess the truth, the play had beenarranged and rehearsed beforehand, and the forgiveness took the form ofmoney for furniture instead of for feasting. But still the parents wentabout holding up their hands and calling Heaven to witness that theycould not have believed their daughter so sly and deceitful a puss.

  Hither came Lord Chudleigh, heavy of heart.

  The Doctor at eleven in the morning was in the full swing of hiswork. Two couples of the lower class were being married in the house.Outside, the place was beset with wedding parties, couples comingshyly and timidly, and couples coming openly and without shame. Thetouters and runners of the rival Fleet parsons were fighting, swearing,cajoling and inviting people to stop with them, holding out offers ofcheapness, safe marriage, expedition, secrecy, and rum punch. Strangersto London, who had never heard of Doctor Shovel's greatness, were ledaway to those pretenders whose canonical orders were so doubtful. Ibelieve the world at large entertains contempt for all Fleet parsons asa body (happily no longer existent), but, for my own part, while I holdthe memory of the Doctor in mingled shame and respect, I despise therest because he himself held them in such low esteem.

  Roger, the touter, recognised his lordship, as he made his way slowlythrough the mob along the side of the market.

  "Good morning, my lord," he said--his face was bloody and bruised, histie-wig was awry, his coat was torn, so fierce had been the struggleof the morning--"good-morning, my lord. We have not seen your lordshipthis long while. Would your lordship like speech with the Doctor? He isbusy now, and six couples wait him. Warm work it is now! But I thinkhe will see your lordship. We should be glad to drink your lordship'shealth."

  The fellow made his way through the crowd, and presently returned,saying that the Doctor was very near the benediction, after which hewould give his lordship ten minutes, but no longer, and should lose aguinea for every minute.

  The Doctor, in fact, was dismissing a pair of couples with a few wordsof advice. They were respectable young city people, getting the secretmarriage for the reasons which I have already described.

  "You are now," he said, "married according to the rites of holy MotherChurch. You are tied to each other for life. I hope you will thank andcontinually bless my name for tying the knot this morning. Rememberwhat the Church charges her children in the words of the service. Go:be honest in your dealings, thrifty in your habits, cautious in yourtrusts, careful of small gains; so shall you prosper. Let the husbandavoid the tavern in the morning, and the conventicle on the Sunday; letthe wife study plain, roast, and boiled, make her own dresses, pretendnot to be a fine madam, and have no words with gallants from the westof Temple Bar.

  "If, on the other hand," he went on, knitting his brows, "the husbandspends his money in clubs, among the freemasons, and in taverns; if hedo not stick to business, if he cheat in his transactions; or if thewife go finely dressed, and talk with pretty fellows when she ought tobe cleaning the furniture; if they both go not to church regularly andobey the instruction of their rector, vicar, or curate--then, I say,the fate of that couple shall be a signal example. For the husbandshall be hanged at Tyburn Tree, and the wife be flogged at Bridewell.Go."

  They bowed, being overwhelmed with the terrors of this partingadvice, and departed. Outside, they were greeted with a roar of roughcongratulation, and were followed by the shouts of the market till theyreached Fleet Bridge, where they were quickly lost in the crowd.

  Then the Doctor turned to Lord Chudleigh.

  "Your lordship has come, I suppose," he asked, "to inquire after thehealth of her ladyship?"

  "I come, Doctor Shovel," replied my lord gravely, "to know fromyour own lips, before I commit the affair to counsel, how far I amcompromised by the disgraceful trick you played upon me about a yearago."

  "Your lordship is married," said the Doctor simply. "So far are youcompromised, and no further. Nay, we seek no further complication inthis business."

  He sat down in his wooden arm-chair, and, with his elbow on the table,knitted his bushy eyebrows, frowned and shook his great forefinger inhis visitor's face.

  "Your lordship is married," he repeated. "Of that have no doubt; nodoubt whatever is possible. Tell your lawyer all; refer him to me."

  "The story," said Lord C
hudleigh, "is this. I come here, out ofcuriosity, to see you--a man of whom I had heard much, though littleto your credit. I am received by you with courtesy and hospitality.There is much drinking, and I (for which I have no defence to offer)drink too much. I awake in the morning still half unconscious. I amtaken downstairs by you, and married, while in that condition, to somewoman I had never before seen. After this I am again put to bed. When Iawake, I am informed by you what has taken place."

  "That is a story neatly told," said the Doctor. "If I had to tell it,however, the details would assume another complexion. What broughtyour lordship to spend the night in such a place as the Liberties ofthe Fleet? A common parson of the Fleet? Nay, that is improbable; mymodesty forbids me to believe so incredible a circumstance. But we maysuppose an appointment for the morning; an appointment made and kept; asecret marriage----"

  "Would you dare to tell such a story as that?" Lord Chudleighinterrupted the Doctor with vehemence. "Would you dare, sir, to hintthat I, Lord Chudleigh, had designed a Fleet marriage?"

  "My lord, where a member of your family, where your father's son isconcerned, I dare a great deal, I assure you."

  "And the woman--who is she? Produce me this wretch, this creature whobecame an accomplice in the plot."

  "All in good time. Be assured, my lord, that we shall produce her ingood time--at the right time. Also, be resigned to the inevitable.Nothing can unmarry you now."

  "I think," said his lordship, "that thou art the greatest villain inEngland."

  "Ta, ta, ta!" The Doctor lay back in his chair with his arms extendedand a genial laugh. "Your lordship is not complimentary. Still, Imake allowances. I cannot fight you, because I am a clergyman; youcan therefore say what you please. And I own that it certainly is avexatious thing for a gentleman of your rank and position to have awife and yet to have no wife: not to know her name and parentage.Why, she may be in the soap-suds over the family linen in the FleetLiberties, or selling hot furmety on Fleet Bridge, or keeping afarthing sausage-stall in the Fleet Market, or making the rooms forthe gentlemen in the Fleet Prison, or frying beefsteaks in ButcherRow; or she may be picking pockets in St. Paul's Churchyard, or shemay be beating hemp in Bridewell, or she may be under the Alderman'srod in Newgate. Nay, my lord, do not swear in this place, which is,as one may say, a chapel-of-ease. Then her parents: your lordship'sfather and mother-in-law. Roger, my touter--say--may be her parent;or she may come of a dishonest stock in Turnmill Lane; or she may beignorant of father and mother, and may belong to the numerous familyof those who sleep in the baskets of Covent Garden and the ashes ofthe glass-houses. I repeat, my lord, that to swear in such a place,and before such a man, a reverend divine, is impious. Avoid the habitof swearing altogether; but, if you must swear, let it be outside thishouse."

  "You will not, then, even tell me where she is, this wife of mine?"

  "I will not, my lord."

  "You will not even let me know the depth of my degradation?"

  "My lord, I will tell you nothing. As for her ladyship, I will say nota word. But as I have shown you the possibilities on one side, so Iwould show them to you on the other. She may be the wretched creatureyou fear. She may also be a gentlewoman by birth, young, beautiful,accomplished; fit, my lord, to bear your name and to be your wife."

  "No," he cried; "that is impossible. What gentlewoman would consent tosuch a marriage?"

  The Doctor laughed.

  "There are many things in this world," he said, "that even LordChudleigh cannot understand. Now, my lord, if you have nothing more tosay, you may leave me. There are already half a dozen expectant bridesupon the threshold. One would not, sure, keep the poor things waiting.I am generally at home, my lord, in the evening, and should you feelinclined for another social night with punch, and a song over the bowl,your lordship will be welcome, in spite of hard words."

  Lord Chudleigh answered not a word, but walked away.

  Small comfort had he got from the Doctor.

  Now was he in a sad plight indeed; for his heart was altogether filledwith the image of Kitty Pleydell. Yet how hope to win her? And howstand by and let her be won by another man?

  To be married in such a way, not to know who or what your wife mightbe, is, surely, a thing quite beyond any history ever told.