The O'Ruddy: A Romance

by Stephen Crane

  CHAPTER XVII

  We rode on at daybreak. At the first large village I bid a little mancut Paddy's hair, and although Paddy was all for killing the littleman, and the little man twice ran away, the work was eventually done,for I stood over Paddy and threatened him. Afterward the little boyswere not so anxious to hoot us through the streets, calling usAfricans. For it must be recalled that at this time there was greatcuriosity in the provinces over the Africans, because it was knownthat in London people of fashion often had African servants; andalthough London cared nothing for the provinces, and the provincescared nothing for London, still the rumour of the strange maninterested the country clodhopper so greatly that he called Paddy anAfrican on principle, in order that he might blow to his neighboursthat he had seen the fascinating biped. There was no generalunderstanding that the African was a man of black skin; it was onlyunderstood that he was a great marvel. Hence the urchins in thesefar-away villages often ran at the heels of Paddy's horse, yelling.

  In time the traffic on the highway became greatly thickened, andseveral times we thought we were entering London because of the largesize and splendour of the towns to which we came. Paddy began to fearthe people had been deceiving us as to the road, and that we hadmissed London entirely. But finally we came to a river with hundredsof boats upon it, and there was a magnificent bridge, and on the otherbank was a roaring city, and through the fog the rain came down thickas the tears of the angels. "That's London," said I.

  We rode out upon the bridge, all much interested, but somewhatfearful, for the noise of the city was terrible. But if it wasterrible as we approached it, I hesitate to say what it was to us whenwe were once fairly in it. "Keep close to me," I yelled to Paddy andJem, and they were not unwilling. And so we rode into thispandemonium, not having the least idea where we were going.

  As we progressed I soon saw what occasioned the major part of thenoise. Many heavy carts thundered slowly through the narrow, echoingstreets, bumping their way uproariously over a miserable pavement.Added to this, of course, were the shrill or hoarse shouts of thestreet vendors and the apprentices at the shop-doors. To the sky arosean odour almost insupportable, for it was new to us all.

  The eaves of the houses streamed with so much water that the sidewalkswere practically untenable, although here and there a hardy wayfarerstrode on regardless of a drenched cloak, probably being too proud totake to the street. Once our travel was entirely blocked by a fight. Abutcher in a bloody apron had dashed out of his shop and attacked thedriver of a brewer's sledge. A crowd gathered miraculously and cheeredon this spectacle; women appeared at all the windows; urchins hooted;mongrel dogs barked. When the butcher had been worsted and chasedback into his shop by the maddened brewer we were allowed to pursueour journey.

  I must remark that neither of these men used aught but his hands.Mostly their fists were doubled, and they dealt each other sounding,swinging blows; but there was some hair-pulling, and when the brewerhad the butcher down I believe the butcher tried to bite hisopponent's ear. However they were rather high-class for theircondition. I found out later that at this time in the darker parts ofLondon the knife was a favourite weapon of the English and was asrampant as ever it is in the black alleys of an Italian city. It wasno good news for me, for the Irish had long been devoted to thecudgel.

  When I wish for information I always prefer making the request to agentleman. To have speech of a boor is well enough if he would notfirst study you over to find, if he can, why you want the information,and, after a prolonged pause, tell you wrong entirely. I perceived ayoung gentleman standing in under a porch and ogling a window on theopposite side of the way. "Sir," said I, halting my horse close tohim, "would you be so kind as to point to a stranger the way to a goodinn?" He looked me full in the face, spat meaningly in the gutter,and, turning on his heel, walked away. And I will give oath he was notmore than sixteen years old.

  I sat stiff in the saddle; I felt my face going hot and cold. Thisnew-feathered bird with a toy sword! But to save me, as it happened,from a preposterous quarrel with this infant, another man came alongthe sidewalk. He was an older man, with a grave mouth and a clean-cutjowl. I resolved to hail him. "And now my man," said I under mybreath, "if you are as bad as the other, by the mass, I'll have aturnover here with you, London or no London."

  Then I addressed him. "Sir--" I began. But here a cart roared on myother side, and I sat with my mouth open, looking at him. He smiled alittle, but waited courteously for the hideous din to cease. "Sir," Iwas enabled to say at last, "would you be so kind as to point to astranger the way to a good inn?" He scanned me quietly, in order, nodoubt, to gain an idea what kind of inn would suit my condition."Sir," he answered, coming into the gutter and pointing, "'tis thisway to Bishopsgate Street, and there you will see the sign of the 'Pigand Turnip,' where there is most pleasurable accommodation for man andbeast, and an agreeable host." He was a shop-keeper of the city ofLondon, of the calm, steady breed that has made successive kingseither love them or fearingly hate them,--the bone and the sinew ofthe great town.

  I thanked him heartily, and we went on to the "Pig and Turnip." As weclattered into the inn yard it was full of people mounting anddismounting, but there seemed a thousand stable-boys. A dozen flungthemselves at my horse's head. They quite lifted me out of the saddlein their great care that I should be put to no trouble. At the door ofthe inn a smirking landlord met me, bowing his head on the floor atevery backward pace, and humbly beseeching me to tell how he couldbest serve me. I told him, and at once there was a most pretentioushubbub. Six or eight servants began to run hither and yon. I wasdelighted with my reception, but several days later I discovered theyhad mistaken me for a nobleman of Italy or France, and I was expectedto pay extravagantly for graceful empty attentions rather than forsound food and warm beds.

  This inn was so grand that I saw it would no longer do for Paddy andJem to be sleeping in front of my fire like big dogs, so I noddedassent when the landlord asked if he should provide lodgings for mytwo servants. He packed them off somewhere, and I was left lonely in agreat chamber. I had some fears having Paddy long out of my sight, butI assured myself that London had such terrors for him he would notdare any Irish mischief. I could trust Jem Bottles to be discreet, forhe had learned discretion in a notable school.

  Toward the close of the afternoon, the rain ceased, and, attiringmyself for the street and going to the landlord, I desired him to tellme what interesting or amusing walk could now conveniently be taken bya gentleman who was a stranger to the sights of London. The man waggedhis head in disapproval.

  "'Twill be dark presently, sir," he answered, "and I would be an illhost if I did not dissuade a perfect stranger from venturing abroad inthe streets of London of a night-time."

  "And is it as bad as that?" I cried, surprised.

  "For strangers, yes," said he. "For they be for ever wandering, andwill not keep to the three or four streets which be as safe as theKing's palace. But if you wish, sir, I will provide one man with alantern and staff to go before you, and another man with lantern andstaff to follow. Then, with two more stout lads and your own servants,I would venture--"

  "No, no!" I cried, "I will not head an army on a night march when Iintended merely an evening stroll. But how, pray you, am I to beentertained otherwise than by going forth?"

  The innkeeper smiled with something like pity.

  "Sir, every night there meets here such a company of gay gentlemen,wits and poets, as would dazzle the world did it but hear one half ofwhat they say over their pipes and their punch. I serve thedistinguished company myself, for I dare trust nobody's care in amatter so important to my house; and I assure you, sir, I have attimes been so doubled with mirth there was no life in me. Why, sir,Mr. Fullbil himself comes here at times!"

  "Does he, indeed?" I cried, although I never had heard of theillustrious man.

  "Indeed and he does, sir," answered the innkeeper, pleased at my quickappreciation of this matter. "And then there is goings on, I wa
rrantme. Mr. Bobbs and the other gentlemen will be in spirits."

  "I never doubt you," said I. "But is it possible for a privategentleman of no wit to gain admittance to this distinguished company?"

  "Doth require a little managing, sir," said he, full of meaning.

  "Pray you manage it then," said I, "for I have nought to do in Londonfor at least two days, and I would be seeing these famous men withwhose names my country rings."

  Early in the evening the innkeeper came to me, much pleased. "Sir, thegentlemen bid me bring you their compliments, and I am to say theywould be happy to have a pleasure in the honour of your presence. Mr.Fullbil himself is in the chair to-night. You are very fortunate,sir."

  "I am," said I. "Lead away, and let us hope to find the great Fullbilin high feather."