Chapter 11
"Very short, indeed," observes Uncle, coughing. "Only from _Worcester_ Fight, Fifty-one, to _Noll's_ Dissolution of the Long Parliament, Fifty-three; yet quite long enough to see what it was."
"I deny that, as well as your Dates," says Father. "We enjoyed a Commonwealth under the Protector, who, had he not assumed that high Office which gave him his Name, would have lacked Opportunity of showing that he was capable of filling the most exalted Station with Vigour and Ability. He secured a wise Peace, obtained the respectfull Concurrence of foreign Powers, filled our domestick Courts with upright Judges, and respected the Rights of Conscience."
"Why, suppose I admitted all this, which I am far from doing," says Uncle, "what was he but a King, except by just Title? What had become, meantime, of your Commonwealth?"
"Softly, _Kit_," returns Father. "The Commonwealth was progressing, meantime, like a little Rivulet that rises among the Hills, amid Weeds and Moss, and gradually works itself a widening Channel, filtering over Beds of Gravel, and obstructed here and there by Fragments of Rock, that sorely chafe and trouble it, at the very Time that, to the distant Observer, it looks most picturesque and beautiful."
"Well, I suppose I was never distant enough to see it in this picturesque Point of View," says Uncle. "Legitimate Monarchy was, to my Mind, the Rock over which the brawling River leaped awhile, and which, in the End, successfully opposed it; and as to your _Oliver_, he was a cunning Fellow, that diverted its Course to turn his own Mill."
"They that can see any Virtue or Comeliness in a _Charles Stuart_," says Father, "can hardly be expected to acknowledge the rugged Merits of a plain Republican."
"Plain was the very last Thing he was," says Uncle, "either in speaking or dealing. He was as cunning as a Fox, and as rough as a Bear."
"We can overlook the Roughness of a good Man," says Father; "and if a Temper subject to hasty Ebullitions is better than one which, by Blows and hard Usage, has been silenced into Sullenness, a Republic is better than an absolute Sovereignty."
"Aye; and if a Temper under the Control of Reason and Principle," rejoins Uncle, "is better than one unaccustomed to restrain its hasty Ebullitions, a limited Monarchy is better than a Republic."
"But ours is not limited enough," persists Father.
"Wait awhile," returns Uncle, "till, as you say, we have filtered over the Gravel a little longer, and then see how clear we shall run."
"I don't see much present Chance of it," says Father. "Such a King, and such a Court!"
"The King and Court will soon shift Quarters, I understand," says Uncle; "for Fear of this coming Sickness. 'Twould be a rare Thing, indeed, for the King to take the Plague!"
"Why not the King, as well as any of his Commons?" says Father. "Tush! I am tired of the Account People make of him. 'Is _Philip_ dead?' 'No; but he is sick.' Pray, what is it to us, whether _Philip_ is sick or not?"
"Which of the _Phillipses_, my Dear?" asks Mother. "Did you say _Jack Phillips_ was sick?"
"No, dear _Betty_; only a King of _Macedon_, who lived a long Time ago."
"Doctor _Brice_ commends you much for your grounding the _Phillipses_ so excellently in the Classicks," says Uncle.
"He should think whether his Praise is much worth having," says Father, rather haughtily. "The young Men were indebted to me for a competent Knowledge of the learned Tongues--no more."
"Nay, somewhat more," rejoined Uncle; "and the Praise of a worthy Man is surely always worth having."
"If he be our Superior in the Thing wherein he praises us," returned Father. "His Praise is then a Medal of Reward; but it should never be a current Coin, bandied from one to another. And the Inferior may never praise the Superior."
Uncle was silent a Moment, and then softly uttered, "My Soul, praise the Lord."
"There you have me," says Father, instantly softening. "Laud we the Name of the Lord, but let's not laud one another."
"Ah! I can't wait to argue the Point," says Uncle. "I must back to the _Temple_."
"Stay a Moment, _Kit_. Have you seen 'the Mysterie of Jesuitism?'"
"No; have _you_ seen the Proof that _London_, not _Rome_, is the City on seven Hills? _Ludgate Hill, Fishstreet Hill, Dowgate Hill, Garlick Hill, Saffron Hill, Holborn Hill_, and _Tower Hill_. Clear as Day!"
"Where's _Snow Hill_? Come, don't go yet. We will fight over some of our old Feuds. There will be a roast Pig on Table at one o'clock, and, I fancy, a Tansy-pudding."
"_I_ can't fancy Tansy-pudding," says Uncle, shuddering; "I cannot abide Tansies, even in Lent. Besides, I'm expecting a Reference."
"Oh! very well; then drop in again in the Evening, if you will; and very likely you will meet _Cyriack Skinner_. And you shall have cold Pig for Supper, not forgetting the Current-sauce, _Wiltshire_ Cheese, Carraways, and some of your own Wine."
"Well, that sounds good. I don't mind if I do," says Uncle; "but don't expect me after nine."
"I'm in Bed by nine," says Father.
"Oh, oh!" says Uncle; and with a comical Look at us, he went off.
Uncle _Kit_ did not come last Night; I did not much expect he woulde; nor Mr. _Skinner_. Insteade, we had Dr. _Paget_, and one or two others, who talked dolefully alle the Evening of Signs of the Times, till they gave me the Horrors. One had seen a Ghost, or at least, seen a Crowd looking at a Ghost, or for a Ghost, in _Bishopgate_ Churchyard, that comes out and points hither and thither at future Graves. Another had seene an Apparition, or Meteor, somewhat of human or angelic Shape in the Air. Father laught at the first, but did not so discredit _in toto_ the other; observing that _Theodore Beza_ believed at one Time in astrologick Signs; and thought that the Appearance of the notable Star in _Cassiopeiea_ betokened the universal End. And as for Angels, he sayd they were, questionless, ministering Spiritts, not onlie sent forth to minister unto the Heirs of Salvation, but sometimes Instruments of God's Wrath, to execute Judgments upon ungodly Men, and convince them of the ill Deeds which they have ungodly committed; as during the Pestilence in _David's_ Time, when the King saw the Destroying Angel standing between Heaven and Earth, having a drawn Sword in his Hand, stretched over Jerusalem. Such Delegates we might, without Fanaticism, suppose to be the generall, though unseen. Instruments of public Chastisements; and, for our particular Comfort, we had equall Reason to repose on the Assurance, that even amid the Pestilence that walked in Darkness, and the Destruction that wasted by Noon-day, the Angels had charge over each particular Believer, to keep them in all their Ways. Adding, that, though he forbore, with _Calvin_, to pronounce that each Man had his own Guardian Spiritt,--a Subject whereon Scripture was silent,--we had the Lord's own Word for it, that little Children were the particular Care of holy Angels.
And this, and othermuch to same Purport, had soe soothing and sedative an Effect, that we might have gone to Bed in peacefull Trust, onlie that Dr. _Paget_ must needs bring up, after Supper, the correlative Theme of the great _Florentine_ Plague, and the poisoned Wells, which sett Father off upon the Acts of Mercy of Cardinal _Borromeo,--_not him called St. _Charlest_ but the Cardinal-Archbishop,--and soe, to the Pestilence at _Geneva_, when even the Bars and Locks of Doors were poisoned by a Gang of Wretches, who thought to pillage the Dwellings of the Dead; till we all went to Bed, moped to Death.
Howbeit, I had been warmly asleep some Hours, (more by Token I had read the ninety-first Psalm before getting into Bed), when _Anne_, clinging to me, woke me up with a shrill Cry. I whispered fearfullie, "What is't?--a Thief under the Bed?"
"No, no," she replies. "Listen!"
Soe I did for a While; and was just going to say, "You were dreaming," when a hollow Voice in the Street, beneath our Window, distinctlie proclaimed,
"Yet forty Days, and _London_ shall be destroyed! I will overturn, overturn, overturn it! Oh! Woe, Woe, Woe!"
I sprang out of Bed, fell over my Shoes, got up again, and ran to the Window. There was Nothing to be seen but long, black Shadows in the Streets. The Moon was behind the House. After looking forthe awhile, with Teeth chattering, I was about to drop the Curtain, when, afar off, whether in or over some distant Quarter of the Town, I heard the same Voice, clearlie enow to recognise the Rhythm, though not the Words. I crept to Bed, chilled and awe-stricken; yet, after cowering awhile, and saying our Prayers, we both fell asleep.
The first Sounde this Morning was of Weeping and Wayling. Mother had beene scared by the Night-warning, and wearied Father to have us alle into the Countrie. He thought the Danger not yet imminent, the Expense considerable, and the Outcry that of some crazy Fanatick; ne'erthelesse, consented to employ _Ellwood_ to look us out some country Lodgings; having noe Mind to live upon my Uncle at _Ipswich_.
_Mary_, strange to say, had heard noe Noise; nor had the Maids; but Servants always sleep heavily.
Some of the Pig having beene sett aside for my Uncle, and Mother fancying it for her Breakfast, was much putt out, on going into the Larder, to find it gone. _Betty_, of course, sayd it was the Cat. Mother made Answer, she never knew a Cat partiall to cold Pig; and the Door having been latched, was suspicious of a Puss in Boots.
_Betty_ cries--"Plague take the Cat!"
Mother rejoyns--"If the Plague does take him, I shall certainly have him hanged."
"Then we shall be overrun with Rats," says _Betty_.
"I shall buy Ratsbane for them," says Mother; and soe into the Parlour, where Father, having hearde the whole Dialogue, had been greatlie amused.
At Twilight, she went to look at the Pantry Fastenings herselfe, but, suddenlie hearing a dolorous Voyce either within or immediately without, cry, "Oh! Woe, Woe!" she naturallie drew back. However, being a Woman of much Spiritt, she instantlie recovered herselfe, and went forward; but no one was in the Pantry. The Occurrence, therefore, made the more Impression; and she came up somewhat scared, and asked if we had heard it.
"My Dear," says Father, "you awoke me in the midst of a very interesting Colloquy between _Sir Thomas More_ and _Erasmus_. However, I think a Dog barked, or rather howled, just now. Are you sure the words were not 'Bow, wow, wow?'"
Another Night-larum; but onlie from Father, who wanted me to write for him,--a Task he has much intromitted of late. Mother was hugelie annoyed at it, and sayd,--"My Dear, I am persuaded that if you would not persist in going to Bed soe earlie, you woulde not awake at these untimelie Hours."
"That is very well for you to say," returned he, "who can sew and spin the whole Evening through; but I, whose long entire Day is Night, grow soe tired of it by nine o'clock, that I am fit for Nothing but Bed."
"Well," says she, "I often find that brushing my Hair wakes me up when I am drowsy. I will brush yours To-morrow Evening, and see if we cannot keep you up a little later, and provide sounder Rest for you when you do turn in."
Soe, this Evening, she casts her Apron over his Shoulders, and commences combing his Hair, chatting of this and that, to keep him in good Humour.
"What beautiful Hair this is of yours, my Dear!" says she; "soe fine, long, and soft! scarcelie a Silver Thread in it. I warrant there's manie a young Gallant at Court would be proud of such."
"Girls, put your Scissars out of your Mother's Way," says Father; "she's a perfect _Dalilah_, and will whip off Half my Curls before I can count Three, unless you look after her. And I," he adds, with a Sigh, "am, in one Sort, a _Samson_."
"I'm sure _Dalilah_ never treated _Samson's_ old Coat with such Respect," says Mother, finishing her Task, resuming her Apron, and kissing him. "Soe now, keep your Eyes open--I mean, keep awake, till I bring you a Gossip's Bowl."
When she was gone, Father continued sitting bolt upright, _his Eyes_, as she sayd (his beautifull Eyes!), open and wakefull, and his Countenance composed, yet grave, as if his Thoughts were at least as far off as _Tangrolipix_ the _Turk_. All at once, he says,
"_Deb_, are my Sleeves white at the Elbow?"
"No, Father."
"Or am I shiny about the Shoulders?"
"No, Father."
"Why, then," cries he, gaily, this Coat can't be very old, however long I may have worn it. I'll rub on in it still; and your Mother and you will have the more Money for copper-coloured Clokes. But don't, at any Time, let your Father get shabby, Children. I would never be threadbare nor unclean. Let my Habitt be neat and spotless, my Bands well washed and uncrumpled, as becometh a Gentleman. As for my Sword in the Corner, your Mother may send that after my Medal as soon as she will. The _Cid_ parted with his _Tizona_ in his Life-time; soe a peaceable Man, whose Eyes, like the Prophet _Abijah's_, are set, may well doe the same."
_May 12, 1665_.
Yesterday being the _Lord's Day_, Mother was hugely scared during Morning Service, by seeing an old Lady put her Kerchief to her Nose, look hither and thither, and, finally, walk out of Church. One whispered another, "A Plague-Smell, perchance." "No Doubt on't;" and soe, one after another left, as, at length, did Mother, who declared she beganne to feel herself ill. On the Cloth being drawn after Dinner, she made a serious Attack on my Father, upon the Subject of Country Lodgings, which he stoutly resisted at first, saying,
"If, Wife and Daughters, either the Danger were so immediate, or the Escape from it so facile as to justify these womanish Clamours, Reason would that I should listen to you. But, since that the Lord is about our Bed, and about our Path, in the Capital no less than in the Country, and knoweth them that are his, and hideth them under the Shadowe of his Wings--and since that, if the Fiat be indeed issued agaynst us, no Stronghold, though guarded with triple Walls of Circumvallation, like _Ecbatana_, nor pastoral Valley, that might inspire _Theocritus_ with a new Idyl, can hide us, either by its Strength or its Obscurity, from the Arrow of the Destroying Angel; ye, therefore, seeing these Things cannot be spoken agaynst, ought to be quiet, and do Nothing rashly. Wherefore, I pray you, Wife and Daughters, get you to your Knees, before Him who alone can deliver you from these Terrors; and having cast your Burthen upon Him, eat your Bread in Peacefulness and Cheerfulness of Heart."
However, we really are preparing for Country Quarters, for young _Ellwood_ hath this Morning brought us Note of a rustick Abode near his Friends, the _Penningtons_, at _Chalfont_, in _Bucks_, the Charges of which suit my Father's limited Means; and we hope to enter on it by the End of the Week. _Ellwood's_ Head seems full of _Guli Springett_, the Daughter of Master _Pennington's_ Wife by her first Husband. If Half he says of her be true, I shall like to see the young Lady. We part with one Maid, and take the other. _Betty_ was very forward to be left in Charge; and protest herself willing to abide any Risk for the Sake of the Family; more by Token she thoughte there was no Risk at alle, having boughte a sovereign Charm of Mother _Shipton_. Howbeit, on inducing her, much agaynst her Will, to open it, Nought was founde within but a wretched little Print of a Ship, with the Words, scrawled beneath it, "By Virtue of the above Sign." Father called her a silly Baggage, and sayd, he was glad, at any Rate, there was no Profanity in it; but, in Spite of _Betty_, and _Polly_, and Mother too, he is resolved to leave the House under the sole Charge of Nurse _Jellycott_. Indeed, there Will probably be more rather than less Work to do at _Chalfont_; but Mother means to get a little Boy, such as will be glad to come for Threepence a-Week, to fetch the Milk, post the Letters, get Flour from the Mill and Barm from the Brewhouse, carry Pies to the Oven, clean Boots and Shoes, bring in Wood, sweep up the Garden, roll the Grass, turn the Spit, draw the Water, lift Boxes and heavy Weights, chase away Beggars and infectious Persons, and any little odd Matter of the Kind.
Mother has drowned the Cats, and poisoned the Rats. The latter have revenged 'emselves by dying behind the Wainscot, which makes the lower Part of the House soe unbearable, 'speciallie to Father, that we are impatient to be off. Mother, intending to turn _Chalfont_ into a besieged Garrison, is laying in Stock of Sope, Candles, Cheese, Butter, Salt, Sugar, Raisins, Pease, and Bacon; besides Resin, Sulphur, and Benjamin, agaynst the Infection; and Pill Ruff, and _Venice_ Treacle, in Case it comes.
As to Father, his Thoughts naturallie run more on Food for the Mind; soe he hath layd in goodlie Store of Pens, Paper, and Ink, and sett me to pack his Books. At first, he sayd he should onlie require a few, and good ones. These were all of the biggest; and three or four Folios broke out the Bottom of the Box. So then Mother sayd the onlie Way was to cord 'em up in Sacking; which greatlie relaxed the Bounds of his Self-denial, and ended in his having a Load packed that would break a Horse's Back. Alsoe, hath had his Organ taken to Pieces; but as it must goe in two severall Loads, and we cannot get a bigger Wagon,--everie Cart and Carriage, large or little, being on such hard Duty in these Times,--I'm to be left behind till the Wagon returns, and till I've finished cataloguing the Books; after which _Ned Phillips_ hath promised to take me down on a Pillion.
Nurse _Jellycott_, being sent for from _Wapping_, looked in this Forenoon, for Father's Commands. Such Years have passed since we lost Sight of her, that I remembered not her Face in the least, but had an instant Recollection of her chearfulle, gentle Voyce. Spite of her Steeple Hat, and short scarlet Cloke, which gave her an antiquated Ayr, her cleare hazel Eyes and smooth-parted Silver Locks gave her an engaging Appearance. The World having gone ill with her, she thankfullie takes Charge of the Premises; and though her Eyes filled with Tears, 'twas with looking at Father. He, for his Part, spake most kindlie, and gave her his Hand, which she kissed.
They are all off. Never was House in such a Pickle! The Carpets rolled up, but the Boards beneath 'em unswept, and black with Dirt; as Nurse gladlie undertook everie Office of that Kind, and sayd 'twould help to amuse her when we were away. But she has tidied up the little Chamber over the House-door she means to occupy, and sett on the Mantell a Beau-pot of fresh Flowers she brought with her. The whole House smells of aromatick Herbs, we have burnt soe many of late for Fumigation; and, though we fear to open the Window, yet, being on the shady Side, we doe not feel the Heat much.
Yesterday, while in the Thick of packing, and Nobody being with Father but me, a Messenger arrived, with a few Lines, writ privily by a Friend of poor _Ellwood_, saying he was in _Aylesbury_ Gaol, not for Debt, but for his Opinions, and praying Father to send him twenty or thirty Shillings for immediate Necessaries. Mother having gone to my Lord Mayor for Passports, and Father having long given up to her his Purse, . . . (for us Girls, we rarelie have a Crown,) he was in a Strait, and at length said,
"This poor young Fellow must not be denied. . . . A Friend in Need is a Friend indeed. . . . Tie on thy Hood, Child, and step out with the Volume thou hadst in thy Hand but now, to the Stall at the Corner. See _Isaac_ himself; shew him _Tasso's_ Autograph on the Fly-leaf, and ask him for thirty or forty Shillings on it till I come back; but bid him on no Pretence to part with it."
I did so, not much liking the Job--there are often such queer People there; for old _Isaac_ deals not onlie in old Books, but old Silver Spoons. Howbeit, I took the Volume to his Shop, and as I went in, _Betty_ came out! What had been _her_ Businesse, I know not; but she lookt at me and my Book as though she should like to know _mine_; but, with her usual demure Curtsey, made Way for me, and walked off. I got the Money with much Waiting, but not much other Dimcultie, and took it to Father, who sent twenty Shillings to _Ellwood_, and gave me five for my Payns. Poor _Ellwood_! he hath good Leisure to muse now on _Guli Springett_.
Mother was soe worried by the Odour of the Rats, that they alle started off a Day sooner than was first intended, leaving me merelie a little extra Packing. Consequence was, that this Morning, before Dawn, being earlie at my Task, there taps me at the Window an old Harridan that Mother can't abide, who is always a crying, "Anie Kitchen-stuff have you, Maids?"
Quoth I, "We've Nothing for you."
"Sure, my deary," answers she, in a cajoling voyce, "there's the Dripping and Candles you promised me this Morning, along with the Pot-liquor."
"Dear Heart, Mrs. _Deb_!" says Nurse, laughing, "there is, indeed, a Lot of Kitchen-stuff hid up near the Sink, which I dare say your Maid told her she was to have; and as it will only make the House smell worse, I don't see why she should not have it, and pay for it too."
Soe I laught, and gave it her forthe, and she put into my Hand two Shillings; but then says, "Why, where's the Cheese?"
"We've no Cheese for you," sayd I.
"Well," says she, "it's a dear Bargayn; but . . ." peering towards me, "is t'other Mayd gone, then?"
"Oh, yes! both of 'em," says I; "and I'm the Mistress," soe burst out a laughing, and shut the Window, while she stumped off, with Something between a Grunt and a Grone. Of course, I gave the Money to Nurse.
We had much Talk overnight of my poor dear Mother. Nurse came to her when _Anne_ was born, and remained in the Family till after the Death of Father's second Wife. _She_ was a fayr and delicate Gentlewoman, by Nurse's Account, soft in Speech, fond of Father, and kind to us and the Servants; but all Nurse's Suffrages were in Favour of mine own loved Mother.