CHAPTER XI

IMPRESSED

"Many as are the villainies which I have known of in my life," said the Marquis, when the tale was told, "never have I known aught such as this. It appears incredible. Incredible that such things can be, and in these days. Heavens and earth!---in the days of King George the Second, when law and order are firmly established." Then he fell a-musing and lay back in the deep chair before the fire in which he had sat during the whole of my recitation, and nodded his head once or twice, and muttered to himself. After which he spake aloud and said, "And the hundred guineas that I sent to bury Gerald; they were those, I imagine, which the villain O'Rourke paid to your protector, Quin. Humph! 'Tis well they have fallen into the hands of an honest man again."

It was at the collation which he offered to my mother and me, for it was now nearly two o'clock, that he once more took up the subject and spake out his heart to us, but before he did so he bade the footmen who had waited at table begone and leave us alone. And, in truth, I was glad enough to see these immense creatures leave the room and cease their ministrations to our wants, for they had wearied me, and, I think, my mother too. All our hopes were centred in what the Marquis would do to espouse my cause, so you may well imagine that the roasts appealed not to us nor did the sweetmeats and iced froth and fruit, nor the wines which they pressed upon us. But when these menials were gone, he, as I say, again went on with the subject that engrossed all our thoughts.

"The first thing to do is," he said, "to obtain the certificate of the child's birth--of that of course there can be no difficulty; then proof must be forthcoming that this lad is that child--that, I imagine, can also be obtained?"

"There are hundreds who can testify to it," my mother answered. "The boy's nurse still lives; he had many tutors both in Ireland and in London; Mr. Quin, his benefactor, remembers when his father and I used to drive into New Ross with him; and Mr. Kinchella, a gentleman at Dublin University, does the same. Charles, there can be no doubt of many witnesses being able to testify."

"That is well. Then the next most important thing is that I should acknowledge him as my heir, which I will publicly do----"

"Again I say--God bless you, Charles. God ever bless you!"

"----and," he went on, "in this my house. Next week I have a gathering here of many of the peers who affect our interests,"--he was speaking of the Whig party. "Sir Robert sits firm now, and may do so for years to come. Yet 'tis ever wise to guard against aught the Tories may attempt. And I expect him to come as well as the Duke of Devonshire, and Lord Trevor--to them all you shall be presented. And 'tis well that Mr. Robert St. Amande affects not our side, he will be easier to deal with."

"What will you do to frustrate him?" my mother asked.

"Do?" the Marquis replied. "Why, first I will proclaim him to all as an utter villain who has falsely assumed a title to which he has no claim. Next, the new Irish Lord Chancellor, Wyndham,--who is indebted somewhat to me for his appointment--must be told to reverse his favours to the scoundrel, and this boy's name must be entered in his place. But next week when he has met my friends we can do more."

"And for that other unhappy one--that wretched Roderick?" said my mother, whose woman's heart could not but feel pity for the miseries to which he was now subjected, to which he must be subjected, "can naught be done for him? Could he not be rescued from the dreadful fate into which he has been plunged?"

"Doubtless," the Marquis replied. "Doubtless. Those who are sold to the planters, as distinguished from those who are convicts, can easily be bought back. Only it must be those of his own kind who do it. His worthy father seems to have some choice spirits in his pay; he may easily send out Mr. Considine or Mr. O'Rourke with a bagful of guineas to purchase him back again. For our side,"--and my mother and I told each other that night how good it was to hear our powerful relative identify himself with us as he did--"for our side we cannot do anything. Moreover, we are supposed to know nothing."

"Yet, my lord," I replied, "we _do_ know, and they know we do. Ere my uncle fainted in Considine's arms he had heard and knew all."

"Yes," the Marquis replied, "yes. But he also knew that your friend, Quin, held his indemnity for what was done. So, rely upon it, he will, nay, he must, hold his peace. Kidnapping, or authorising kidnapping, is punished, and righteously punished, for 'tis a fearful crime, so heavily by our laws that your uncle stands in imminent deadly peril for what he has done. And, remember, he is not a peer, therefore he has no benefit to claim. Rest assured that though he has lost his son he will never proclaim what has happened nor divulge a word on the subject. Though, that he may send agents to Virginia to endeavour to obtain his recall is most probable, since, wretch as he is, there must be some heart in his bosom for his own child."

So thus, as you may now observe, that great man, my relative, was won over to my cause, and already it seemed as though the champion whom dear Oliver had prayed that the Lord might raise up for me had been discovered. And vastly happy were all of us, my mother, myself, and that faithful friend, at thinking such was the case. So happy indeed were we that we made a little feast to celebrate the Marquis's goodness, and, as he had given my mother a purse with a hundred guineas in it to be spent on anything I should need, we had ample means for doing so. We decorated her humble parlour with gay flowers from the market hard by, we provided a choice meal or so to which we three sat down merrily, all of us drinking the Marquis's health in champaign; we even persuaded my mother to be carried to the theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields, close to Denzil Street, where from a box we witnessed Mr. Congreve's affecting play, "The Mourning Bride," at which my mother wept much.

Unfortunately, as I have now to tell, these joys were to be of but short duration; the time had not yet arrived for our happiness to be complete and on a sure foundation; both of us were still to be trouble-haunted and I to be tossed about by Fate, and, as it seemed, never to know peace.

Oliver had a friend and countryman who lived on Tower Hill in a considerable way of business in the cattle trading line, and he, being desirous of seeing this friend so that he might thereby, perhaps, be put into some way of earning a livelihood in the trade he understood, made up his mind to go and visit him. That I should go too was a natural conclusion, and, indeed, had we not gone about together I should have got no necessary exercise at all, since my mother was so confined to the house, while, on his part, he knew little of the town--nay, nothing--so that I was really a guide to him. Thus together we trudged about, looking for all the world like some young gentleman and his governor, since I was generally dressed in my fine clothes bought in Dublin, while Quin wore a sober suit of black which he, too, had purchased. Many a sight did we see in company in this manner, for both of us were curious as children and revelled much in all the doings of the wondrous great city--we went together to the Abbey, we walked to Execution Dock and Kennington Common to witness men hanged, or hanging, or, as the mob then called such things, "the step and string dance"; to see where the noblemen play bowls at Mary-le-bone Gardens in the summer and frequent the gaming tables in the winter; to the Spring Garden at Knightsbridge; and countless other places too numerous to write down.

But amongst all these our walks and excursions it befell, as I have said, that one fine frosty day Oliver and I decided to go into the city to Tower Hill, there to see his friend, the dealer. We set out therefore along Fleet Street, that wondrous place where the writers for the news-sheets and letters dwell, and where we could not but laugh at the other strange characters we encountered. First there flew out a fellow, whom I have since learnt they call a "plyer," who bawled at us to know if either of us wanted a wife, since they had blooming virgins to dispose of or rich widows with jointures. Then a woman screamed to us from the brandy-shop, "We keeps a parson here who'll do your business for you," while, dreadful to narrate, as all this was going on, there reeled by a drunken divine swearing that he would have more drink at the "Bishop Blaize's Head," since he had married three couples that day at five shillings a brace and had more to tie up on the morrow.

Resisting, however, all these importunities, though we could not resist glancing at the advertisements of such things in the windows, such as, "Without Imposition. Weddings performed cheap here"; or, "The Old and True Register. Without Imposition. Weddings performed by a clergyman educated at the University of Oxford, chaplain to a nobleman," we went along and so, at last, we came to Tower Hill.

"And now," said Oliver, "let's see for the abode. The number is twenty-seven, this is fourteen--it cannot be afar. Wil't come in Gerald and show thyself to my friend, who will surely gape for wonder at seeing a real lord; or go into the tavern? Or, stay, yonder seems a decent coffeehouse where, doubtless, you may read a journal or so; or what?"

I was about to say I would go with him and, because I was in a merry mood, exclaimed that I would treat his friend to so gay a sight as a real Irish lord when, alas! my boyish attention was attracted by a raree-show fellow who came along, followed by a mob of children of all ages, many grown-up men and women, and his servant or assistant. This latter bore upon his back the long box in which his master kept his stock-in-trade and apparatus, and, as they drew near, was cursing vehemently the crowd who wished them to exhibit their tricks and wonders. "What," he muttered, "show you the fleas that run at tilt when there is not so much as a groat amongst you all, or the hedgehog that can divine the stars, or the wonderful snake, for which we paid twenty Dutch ducatoons at Antwerp--and without payment, the devil take you all!"

But here, while still the children screamed at him and his master and the elders jeered, his eyes fell on me standing at the hither end of the street after Oliver had gone in to the house he wanted, and, advancing down it, he said: "Now here is a young gentleman of quality or I ne'er saw one, whose purse is lined with many a fat piece I warrant. Noble, sir," addressing me, and speaking most volubly, "will you not pay to see our show? We can exhibit you the wonderful snake and divining hedgehog, the five-legged sheep and six-clawed lobster, the dolls who dance to the bagpipes' merry squeak and the ape who scratched the Cardinal's nose in Rome. Or my master will knock you a knife in at one cheek and out at t'other without pain or bleeding, swallow dull cotton and blow out fire or make a meal of burning coals, or by dexterity of hand fill your hat full of guineas from an empty bottle. And then again, noble sir, we have pills that are good against an earthquake, so that the worst cannot disturb you; or, again, an elixir which shall prevent the lightning from harming you even tho' it strike you fair, or still again----"

But here I interrupted him, crying, "Nay! nay! I want not your pills or elixir, but I have ten minutes to await a friend, so show me your curious beasts and I will give you a shilling."

"And let us see, too," the mob cried. "We must see, too."

"Ay," said the master of the raree-show taking the word up while he opened his box to earn my shilling, "Ay, you must see, too, though devil a fadge have you got to pay. Yet, ere long, will I hire a booth where none can see who pay not. I'll lead this dog's out-o'-door life no longer."

Yet neither was it foredoomed for me or any of the vagrant crew around to see the mountebank's treasures. For as he produced his snake, a poor huddled up little thing that looked as though it had neither life nor venom in it, we heard a shouting and bawling at the top end of the street and the screams of women; and presently saw advancing down it about fifteen sailors fighting their way along, while still the women howled at them and they endeavoured to secure all the men around them.

"The Press! The Press!" called out the raree men and our crowd together, while all fled helter-skelter, leaving me the only one standing there all by myself, so that, in a moment, I was surrounded by the press-gang, for such I soon knew it to be. "Your age, name and calling," said a man to me who seemed to be the leader and was, as I later learned, the lieutenant in command. He was a poor-looking fellow very much unlike all ideas I had conceived of His Majesty's naval officers, and, unlike the officers of the army, had no uniform to wear. Therefore, since he was one of those poor creatures who are officers in the navy without money or interest and with mighty little pay, it was not strange that his clothes were shabby, his boots burst out, and his hat a thing that would not have done credit to a scarecrow, though it had a gold cockade, much tarnished, in it.

"That is my affair," I retorted, "and none of yours. Pass on and leave me."

For a moment he seemed astonished at my reply as did his men, but then he said: "Young man, insolence will avail you nothing. I am lieutenant of His Majesty's ship _Namur_, on shore for the purpose of impressment, and you must go with me unless either you have a protection ticket, are under eighteen, or are a Thames waterman belonging to an insurance company."

"I am neither of these things and have no ticket," I replied; "yet I warn you touch me not. I am the Viscount St. Amande and future Marquis of Amesbury, and if you assault me it shall go hard with you."

"Shall it?" he replied, though he seemed staggered for a moment. "We will see. And for your viscounts and marquises, well! this is not the part of the town for such goods. However, lord or no lord, you must come with me, and, if you are one, doubtless you can explain all to the Admiral. I must do my duty." Then, turning to his followers, he cried, "Seize upon him."

This they at once proceeded to do, or attempt to do, though I resisted manfully. I whipped out my hanger and stood on the defence while I shouted lustily for Oliver, hoping he might hear me; and I found some able auxiliaries in the screaming rabble of women who had been watching the scene. For no sooner did they see me attacked than they swooped down upon the press-gang; they belaboured the members of it with their fists and did much execution on them with their nails, while all the while they shouted and bawled at them and berated them for taking honest men and fathers of families away from their homes. But 'twas all of no avail. The lieutenant knocked my sword out of my hand with his cutlass, a sailor felled me with a blow of his fist, and two or three of them drove off the women, so that, in five minutes, I was secured. And never a sign of Oliver appeared while this was going on, so that I pictured the dismay of that loyal friend when he should come forth from the house he was visiting at, and learn the news of what had befallen me from the viragoes who had taken my part.

They carried, or rather dragged, me to a boat lying off the stairs near the Tower and flung me into it, fastening me to a thwart by one hand and by the other to a miserable-looking wretch who, with some more, had been impressed as I had. And so the sailors bent to their oars while the lieutenant took the rudder lines, and rowed swiftly down the river on a quick ebbing tide. In this way it was not long ere we reached the neighbourhood of Woolwich, and I saw before me a stately man-o'-war with an Admiral's flag flying from her foretopmast head.

That ship was the _Namur_ under orders for the West Indies and North America, and was to be my home for many a day. Yet I knew it not then, nor, indeed, could I think aught of my future. My heart was sad and sorry within me, and, when I thought at all, it was of a far different home; the home in which my poor sick mother was sitting even now awaiting my return.