The Adventures of Harry Rochester: A Tale of the Days of Marlborough and Eugene

by Herbert Strang

  *CHAPTER VI*

  *My Lord Marlborough makes a Note*

  London Streets--A Chair!--A Great Man's Portals--An Effort ofMemory--Patronage--Marlborough--A Step in the Peerage--A Memorandum--AFriend in London--A Dinner at Locket's--Mr. Colley Cibber--GreatExpectations--A Thick Stick--Prevarication

  Harry was awake long before Sherebiah tapped at his door next morning.His projected visit to Lord Godolphin gave him some concern. He had notremors of shyness at the thought of meeting the Lord Treasurer; but,ignorant as he was of London ways, he knew not how to time his visit,and could hope for no counsel on that point from Sherebiah. He was toomuch excited to do justice to the crisp rashers which were placed beforehim at the breakfast-table, and felt little disposed to converse withJan Grootz the Dutchman opposite. Sherebiah had taken upon himself towait at table, but, as a privileged servitor, did not think itunbecoming to throw in a word here and there. He gave Grootz his viewson the price of oats and the policy of King Louis of France with equalassurance.

  "Know ye where de lord live?" asked the Dutchman suddenly.

  Harry had forgotten that he had mentioned his errand to hisfellow-passenger, and for the moment repented his confidence. Before hecould reply, Grootz went on:

  "He live over against the Queen's Wood Yard, by Thames-side, leading toScotland Yard. My vrient John Evelyn built de house. I have beendere."

  "Oh!" exclaimed Harry. "Then can you tell me the best time to visithim?"

  "Ja! De best time, it is ten o'clock, before he go to de palace. Herise late; he has many visitors; I zee him myself in his dressing-gownbefore his zervant have curled his wig, and I wait my turn two hours.And when you zee him, you zall lose no time; he like man to speak out,mark you."

  The Dutchman spoke very slowly, not interrupting his meal, and wagginghis fat finger as he concluded.

  "And how shall I go? Shall I walk?"

  "I' feck, no," said Sherebiah from behind. "The night have been rainy,and the streets be mushed wi' mud; you'd be spattered from head to heel,Master Harry. Nay; you med walk as far as the Exchange and buy 'ee apair o' gloves there for seemliness, and then get your shoes brushed byone o' the blackguards at the corner. Then you can take a chair; 'tis ashilling a mile, and easier goen nor the hackneys, for the chairmen walkon the pavement, and you won't get jolted nor splashed so bad."

  "Ja, and I tell you dis," added the Dutchman. "Short poles, and shortmen; zo, dey take not zo much room, and if dey upzet you, why, you donot fall zo much."

  "Ay, and don't let 'em chouse 'ee out o' more than their due," saidSherebiah. "I know they men. If they think a man be up from country,they look at un and then at the shilling, up and down, and miscall unwi' such brazen tongues that he'll pay anything to save his ears. Ashilling a mile, Master Harry, no more."

  "Zo! De counsel is good. But I give you a better: go not at all.Lords! I tell you dis before: an honest merchant is worth two, dree, noman zay how many lords; and de Book zay, 'Put not your drust inprinces'. Still, I wish you good luck, my young vrient, Jan Grootz; zo!"

  He squeezed Harry's hand in his own great fist, and then, havingdemolished his mountain of food, filled his pipe and set forth for theCustom House on Thames bank. Two hours later, Harry left the inn underSherebiah's guidance, and for the first time in his life trod thestreets of London. Filled though his mind was with the approachinginterview, which might mean so much to him, he was yet able to take aninterest in the strange scenes that opened before his inexperiencedeyes: the brilliant shops, each with its sign of painted copper, pewter,or wood hanging from iron branches; the taverns and coffee-houses,already crowded with people eager to hear and discuss the news, andperhaps to get a peep at the morning's _Courant_; the court andporticoes of the Royal Exchange, to which merchants were flocking; thecrowds of money-dealers in Change Alley, looking for clients. He wentup to the gallery on the first floor of the Exchange, and bought a pairof gloves from a neat and pretty girl at one of the booths; thenstrolled along, admiring the rich and dazzling display of silks andjewellery which a few hours later would attract all the fine ladies intown.

  Descending to the street again, he passed up Cheapside and through St.Paul's Churchyard, down Ludgate Hill and through Ludgate, where hebeheld impaled on stakes a row of hideous heads of traitors, one ofwhich, Sherebiah told him with indignation, was that of Noll Crum'ell.Then skirting the Fleet Ditch, once navigable, but now a noisome slimysewer, he came into Fleet Street, through Temple Bar to the Strand, andat length arrived at Charing Cross, where he was nearly overturned by ahasty chair-man, whose "By your leave!" was not yet familiar to hisears. At Charing Cross stood a number of boys with boxes before them onthe pavement, and cries of "Clean your shoes!" "London fucus!" "BestSpanish blacking!" came in eager competing tones. Sherebiah selectedone whose stand was in front of a barber's shop.

  "Here's the blackguard for 'ee, Master Harry," he said. "He'll shineyour shoes while barber shaves my stubble. A penny; no more."

  When the shoes were polished and the stubble mown, Sherebiah called up acouple of chairmen who were sitting on their poles near by.

  "Do 'ee know my Lord Godolphin's noble house?" he asked.

  "Ay; servant, sir."

  "Well then, carry my young master to that very house, and see 'ee don'tjolt 'n, or drop 'n, or let 'n get splashed. 'Tis under a mile, MasterHarry," he whispered at parting.

  Harry would rather have walked. The men took what care they could, butthe press of people was so great that they had to dodge at every fewsteps, and their fare gripped the seat to prevent himself from beingknocked against first one side, then the other, of the conveyance. Atthe corner of Whitehall, as they turned into Scotland Yard, a passingdray splashed up a shower of liquid mud, and Harry felt a moist dab uponhis nose. Fortunately the spot was soon removed with his handkerchief;and when, after crossing by the Charcoal House and through the WoodYard, the chairmen at length set him down at the door of Godolphin'shouse, he would have felt no anxiety about his personal appearance, ifhe had been sufficiently self-conscious to think about it. He had puton his best coat, silk stockings, and buckle shoes; at his side he worethe sword about which he had spoken to Sherebiah. He sprang alertly upthe steps, and looked about him with a keen quick gaze that bespoke adefinite purpose.

  The great entrance-hall was thronged. Servants, officers, governmentofficials, men about town, stood in groups or moved here and there inpursuit of their several objects of business or pleasure. No oneappeared to remark the presence of the new-comer, who walked quietlythrough the throng towards the broad staircase. At the foot agorgeously-dressed flunkey was standing, to whom one or two gentlemenhad already applied for information. As Harry was about to address him,his attention was attracted by a woolly-pated wide-grinning black boy,who at that moment ran down the stairs. He carried a silver tray, onwhich a cup and jug of fine porcelain jingled as he ran.

  "Done, Sambo?" asked the tall flunkey at the stair-foot.

  "Yussir!" replied the boy with a white grin. "My lord jolly dis mornin;oh yes; drink him chocolate without one cuss. Gwine to begin work now;oh yes."

  "Can I see the Lord Godolphin?" asked Harry, stepping up to the servantas Sambo disappeared.

  The man gave Harry a stare, but answered respectfully: "My lord's leveeis over, sir. The nigger brings down the tray when the last visitor hasgone."

  "I have come specially to see my lord, and----"

  "Have you an appointment, sir?"

  "I think if you will take my name to my lord he will see me."

  Harry spoke quietly; he was determined not to be turned from his purposeby mere formality or red tape. The man eyeing him saw nothing butself-possession and confidence in his air.

  "My lord is now engaged with his correspondence," he said. "He does notbrook interruption."

  "My name is Harry Rochester; I will answer for it that you will do nowrong in acquainting his lordship."

  After a
moment's hesitation the man beckoned to a fellow-servant, andgave him Harry's message. He went upstairs, and returning in a fewminutes said:

  "What is your business with my lord, sir? His lordship does notremember your name."

  There was the suggestion of a sneer in the man's voice. With hardly aperceptible pause Harry replied:

  "Tell his lordship I am from Winton St. Mary, at his invitation."

  A faint smile curled the lips of the two flunkeys. The second againmounted the stairs. When he descended, his face wore its usualexpression of deference and respect.

  "Be so good as to wait upon his lordship," he said, and led the way.

  In a few minutes Harry found himself, hat in hand, making his bow toLord Godolphin in a large wainscoted apartment. Four large candlesburnt upon the mantel-piece, daylight being kept out by the heavycurtains on either side of the narrow window. A huge log fire filledthe chimney-place; beyond it stood a broad table littered with papers,which at that moment a young man was sorting by the light of a shadedcandle. Lord Godolphin was in dressing-gown and slippers.

  "Well, sir?" he said.

  "My name is Rochester, my lord."

  "I am aware of that. I do not recall it. Well?"

  My lord's tone was cold and uninviting.

  "Your lordship will permit me to mention a little incident on the Romanroad by Sir Godfrey Fanshawe's park, when----"

  "Stay, I remember now. You are the lad they called the young parson,eh? I have a poor head for names. When my man spoke of Winton St. MaryI supposed you might be a messenger from the gentleman who entertainedus there."

  Now that Harry was actually face to face with the Lord Treasurer, hefelt some diffidence in opening the subject of his visit. My lord, inspite of his deshabille, seemed far less approachable than he had beenon the old Roman road. Then he was the country sportsman; now he wasthe chief minister of the Queen.

  "Your shouting friend with the scriptural name--how is he?" he asked ina somewhat more cordial tone.

  "He is well, my lord; he is with me in London."

  "And your father: has he won his case against the squire? I heardsomething of him at Sir Godfrey Fanshawe's, I think."

  "My father is dead, my lord."

  "Indeed! Pray accept my condolences. And now, tell me what brings youhere."

  "Your lordship may remember, after the scene with the highwaymen----"

  "Yes, yes; you did me a service, you and your man; what then?"

  "It was but a slight service, my lord; I do not presume on it; but youwere so good as to say that if, at some future time, I should findmyself in need of assistance, I was to come to your lordship."

  "Why, I did speak of a country parsonage, I believe. But you,"--hesmiled--"why, I really may not venture to set you up in a cure of souls.You have to take your degrees yet."

  "That is impossible, my lord. My father impoverished himself in hisfeuds with Mr. Berkeley; when his affairs were settled I found myselfpossessed of but a poor twenty guineas. I have given up all thought ofgoing to Oxford; I must seek a livelihood."

  "H'm!"

  Lord Godolphin looked him up and down, as though estimating his chancesof making his way in the world.

  "You wear a sword," he said. "Rochester--you are no connection of theearl's?--no, of course not, he is a Wilmot. Where do you spring from?"

  "My grandfather was a soldier, my lord; I have heard that he died young,but my father seldom spoke of these matters; we have no relatives."

  "H'm! I bethink me now, you yourself have an itch for martial life.All boys have, I suppose. Young Lord Churchill was cut to the heart afew months ago because my lady Marlborough would not permit him tofollow his father to Flanders. Well, to be frank with you, I see no wayof helping you. With twenty guineas you can no more buy a commissionthan you can enter yourself at a college. To enlist as a common soldierwould be a last resource to one of your breeding. There are too manyyoung scions of good stocks for the lesser places at court to go roundamong them. Yet I would fain do something for you."

  He began to saunter up and down the room, his hands clasped behind him,stopping for a moment to listen as the sound of cheers came from thestreet. Suddenly the door was opened, and the voice of the servant washeard announcing a visitor.

  "My lord Marlborough."

  Harry looked with eager curiosity as the great soldier entered the room.He saw a tall, singularly handsome man, with short curved upper lip,firm chin, long almond-shaped eyes, and a calm benignity of expression.John Churchill, Earl of Marlborough, was at this time fifty-two years ofage. As captain-general of the English forces, in the summer of thisyear, 1702, he had opened in concert with the Dutch a campaign inFlanders against Louis the Fourteenth of France,--a new campaign in thegreat war of the Spanish Succession which the policy of William theThird had bequeathed to his sister-in-law. Venloo and other towns hadbeen captured by the confederate armies, Liege had been reduced, and theforces having gone into winter quarters, Marlborough had returned toEngland to support the Occasional Conformity Bill. He was a closepersonal friend of Godolphin, and allied to him by the marriage ofFrancis Godolphin to his daughter Henrietta.

  "Welcome, my dear lord!" said Godolphin, starting forward to meet theearl. "I did not know you had arrived."

  "I am but just come from waiting on the Queen," said Marlborough. "Iarrived late last night."

  "You are welcome indeed. All men's mouths are full of your praises."

  "Ay," returned Marlborough with a smile; "your Londoners have lustythroats. And I have a piece of news for you." He dropped his voice:the secretary had vanished through a further door: Harry stood in aquandary, the noblemen both seeming to ignore his presence. "The Queenhas been pleased to express her wish to make me a duke."

  Godolphin laid his hand on his friend's arm, and said cordially: "Icongratulate you, Jack, with all my heart. Why, this very morning I havea letter from Churchill at Cambridge; there are shrewd wits there; hesays 'tis whispered you are to be raised in the peerage, and the boy,young dog, begs me to tell him what his own title will be then."

  "Ah! 'tis over soon to talk of it. I must acquaint my lady first, andmethinks she will object."

  "Stap me, Jack! 'tis few women would hesitate to exchange countess forduchess.--God bless me, I'd forgotten the boy! My lord, this is thehero of the little adventure at Winton St. Mary I writ you of. 'Twas hethat inspired the stout fellow to shout, and scared the highwaymen outof their five wits."

  My Lord Marlborough]

  Marlborough looked towards Harry, who flushed and bowed. An idea seemedto strike Godolphin. Linking his arm with the earl's, he led him slowlyto the other end of the room, and stood there talking earnestly to himin tones too low for Harry to catch a word. Once or twice both glancedat the tall youthful figure standing in some natural embarrassment nearthe door. Once Marlborough shook his head and frowned, upon whichGodolphin took him by a button of his laced coat and spoke moreearnestly than before. At length Marlborough smiled, laid a hand onGodolphin's shoulder, and spoke a few words in his ear. Then he turnedabout, and coming slowly towards Harry, said, in his clear bell-liketones:

  "My lord Godolphin tells me you have lost your father and are all butpenniless. 'Tis an unfortunate situation for a lad of your years. Youwould serve the Queen?"

  "Ay, my lord."

  "You have a quick wit, my lord says. I may make some use of you. Writeyour name on a piece of paper, and the name of your lodging."

  Godolphin motioned him to the table, where he found paper and a pencil.He wrote his name and the name of his inn, and handed the paper toMarlborough, who said, as he folded it and placed it in his pocket:

  "I will send for you, Master Rochester, if I can serve you."

  "My lord, I am much beholden to you--" began Harry.

  Marlborough interrupted him.

  "'Tis my lord Godolphin you should thank for his good word."

  "'Faith, my lord," said Godolphin, "'tis due to Ma
ster Rochester thatthe Queen is served by her present Lord Treasurer. I am glad, my lad,that my friend Lord Marlborough chanced to come upon us here, and I hopeyou will have reason to be glad also. Now, you will excuse us; we havematters of state to speak of; I wish you well."

  Harry murmured his thanks and bowed himself out. His nerves werea-tingle with his unexpected good fortune. To have seen and spoken withthe greatest man in the kingdom was itself an unforeseen privilege; andthe prospect of assistance from such a powerful and august personagefilled him with elation. The earl had shown no great cordiality, it wastrue; but Harry was inclined to draw good augury from the few words hehad uttered. They were probably more sincere than a warm volubilitywould have been. He left the house with a sparkling eye and a springygait, and looked eagerly around to see if Sherebiah were near at hand tohear his news. But Sherebiah was nowhere to be seen. Having noparticular business, now that his great errand was accomplished, Harrywalked through Whitehall into St. James's Park, in the hope that hemight catch a glimpse of Queen Anne herself. The guard had just beenchanged at St. James's Palace, and a stream of people met him as hestrolled along the Mall. He was interested in watching them--the fineladies with their hoops and patches, the beaux with their many-colouredcoats, canes dangling at their buttons, toothpicks between their teeth,and snuff-boxes in frequent use. So absorbed was he that he wasstartled when all at once a hand struck him a hearty blow on theshoulder, and a voice exclaimed:

  "Hey, Harry, what make you, ogling the ladies?"

  He turned and saw his friend Godfrey Fanshawe, the captain of thecricket team to whose victory he had so much contributed. The two youngfellows shook hands heartily.

  "What brings you to London?" continued Fanshawe.

  "I've come in search of fortune, like Dick Whittington. You heard of myfather's death?"

  "Ay, but nothing since. They seldom write letters at home."

  Harry then explained the course of events which had brought him toLondon, concluding with his recent interview with Marlborough andGodolphin.

  "Egad, man!" exclaimed Fanshawe, "you're in luck's way indeed. Wouldthat I stood so well with the two greatest men in England. My lordMarlborough will gazette you an ensign of foot or a cornet of horse; andmy cornetcy, I may tell you, cost my father a pretty penny. What luck,Harry, if we make the next campaign together! The earl will surely goback to Flanders when the winter is over."

  "I should like nothing better."

  "Where are you staying?"

  "At the Angel and Crown, in Threadneedle Street."

  "You must leave that and come westward. Are you alone?"

  "Sherry Minshull is with me at present; but he'll get work for himselfas soon as I am settled."

  "Sherry's a handy fellow; egad, I know no better! He'll tie a fly withany man, and is as good with sword or quarterstaff as he is with hisfists. Well now, 'tis drawing towards dinner-time; come and dine withme; the people of fashion here dine at four, but I stick to countryhabits. We'll go to Locket's at Charing Cross; you're my guest to-day.And we'll go to the play this evening; the first time, I warrant you,you've seen a play. Come! I stand well with the people at Locket's, andthe sharp air this morning has given me an appetite."

  It was but five minutes' walk to Locket's tavern. Entering, Fanshawebowed with elaborate courtesy to the fair dame in charge, and called forthe card.

  "There's boiled beef and carrots, I see, and a goose, and look, a calf'shead. I adore calf's head. What say you? Yes? Boy, bring calf's headfor two, and quickly."

  With calf's head and cabbage and a wedge of Cheshire cheese, the twoyoung fellows appeased their unjaded appetites. Fanshawe sat for sometime finishing his bottle of wine, Harry contenting himself with smallbeer. Then, as there still remained a few hours to while away beforetheatre time, Fanshawe proposed a row on the river. Harry eagerlyassented; they sallied forth, took boat at Westminster stairs and rowedup to Chelsea, returning to Westminster in time for the performance ofMr. Colley Cibber's new play, "She would and she would not", by HerMajesty's Servants at Drury Lane. Harry was delighted with his firstvisit to the theatre. He was tickled at the unabashed impertinence ofTrappanti the discarded servant, played by Mr. Penkethman, one of thebest comedians in London, as Fanshawe informed him; and fell in lovewith Hypolita the heroine, a part which suited Mrs. Mountford toperfection. But he was perhaps most interested in Mr. Colley Cibberhimself, who played the part of Don Manuel the irascible father. Hispleasure was complete when, after the performance, Fanshawe took him tothe Bull's Head tavern, and showed him Mr. Cibber with his paint washedoff, surrounded by a circle of actors, soldiers, lords, and evenclergymen. He had never seen an author before. Mr. Cibber had nopresence to boast of, with his thick legs, lean face, and sandy hair;but the liveliness of his conversation gave him a sort of pre-eminenceamong his coterie, and made a considerable impression on a youth readyto admire and wonder at anything.

  Fanshawe appeared quite at home among the company. He was indeed afrequent visitor at the Bull's Head after the play, where all werewelcome on condition of providing their quota towards the generalhilarity. Fanshawe was the lucky possessor of a fine baritone voice,and his spirited singing of west-country songs had won him instantpopularity. On this night, in response to the usual call, he began--

  "Tom Pearce, Tom Pearce, lend me thy grey mare, All along, down along, out along lee; For I want for to go to Widdicombe Fair, Wi' Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan Whiddon, Harry Hawk, Old uncle Tom Cobleigh, and all";

  and by the time he reached the end of the third of the eight stanzas,the whole company were ready to join him in trolling the chorus,

  "Old uncle Tom Cobleigh and all".

  It was late when Harry reached the Angel and Crown. Sherebiah wasmarching up and down before the tavern, blowing great clouds from hispipe.

  "Hey now, Master Harry," he said, with an expression of mingled wrathand relief; "'tis a mighty scurvy trick you have played me, i' feck 'tisso. Here we are, your second day in London, and you must go off alongby your lone self on who knows what errand o' foolery. Ay, 'tis strongwords for me, and a man o' peace and all, but not too strong, seee'n asI knows the wicked ways o' the town and you be unfledged. Zooks, sir,I've been in a terrible way, thinken all manner of awsome an' gashlythings, as how you med ha' been trepanned, or slit by the Scourers, ortrampled by some high lard's horses, or rifled and beat by footpads, or'ticed into a dicing den by sweetners always on the look-out for acountry gudgeon, or----"

  "Hold, Sherry, you forget yourself," said Harry, who was, however, notdispleased to find the honest fellow so solicitous about him. "Intruth, I forgot all about you. I can take care of myself, I think. Idined with Mr. Godfrey Fanshawe, whom I chanced to meet, and we went tothe play afterwards, and I never laughed so much in my life. Mrs.Mountford's a beauty, Sherry, and Mr. Cibber--when he doesn'tsqueak--has the pleasantest voice ever I heard--nay, not that, afterall; 'tis not so pleasant as my lord Marlborough's. What d'ye think,Sherry? I met the earl himself at Lord Godolphin's, and he has my nameon a scrap of paper, and to-morrow or next day I shall hold the queen'scommission, and then off with the troops to Flanders, and I shall makemy fortune, man, and then----"

  "Huh!" put in a voice from the doorway. "Haastige spoed is zeldengoed."

  Harry's excitement was dashed by the slow drawl of Mynheer Grootz, whoselittle eyes were twinkling as he puffed at his big pipe.

  "Ay, a true word," said Sherebiah. "'More haste, less speed,' as theDutch words mean put into rightful language. 'Counten chickens aforethey be hatched,' as ye med say."

  Though he was a little nettled, Harry had too much good sense not to seethat his elation had carried him too far. He could laugh at himself--anexcellent virtue in man or boy.

  "I am an ass, Mr. Grootz," he said; "but really I did not expect suchgood luck. My lord Godolphin was very kind, and so was the earl, and ashe used but few words I do think he meant what he
said. I am sorry myabsence made you uneasy, Sherry; but I don't understand why you shouldimagine all manner of harm."

  "An ye knew----" began Sherebiah; but he paused, hemmed, and changed hissentence. "All's well as ends well, Master Harry; I axe your pardon formy free words; and here be a fine stout piece of ash I bought in FleetStreet for your hand. Feel un; 'twill crack a pate as quick as speaken,and I'll be more easy in mind knowen you have such a good staff incompany."

  "Thanks, Sherry!" said Harry with a laugh, weighing in his hand thestick with which the man presented him. "But I'm a man of peace, youknow, eh?--at present. Now let's to bed."

  As they went from the room Harry remarked, "By the way, Sherry, how isit that you know Dutch?"

  "Me know Dutch? Why, sir, what makes ye think I know that outlandishtongue?"

  "Why, didn't you tell me just now the meaning of what Mynheer Grootzsaid to me?"

  "Ay, so I did, now. It must ha' been as a dog knows his master'sspeech, or just as I knowed the meanen o' the holy things your goodfeyther was used to speak in the high pulpit, for egad, word by word Iknowed no more than the dead what a' said, not I."

  The explanation struck Harry as rather lame, but he merely said, with alaugh:

  "Well, you'll make a very faithful watch-dog, Sherry. Good-night! Ishall sleep well;--if I don't dream too much of battle and glory."