SUSAN QUITE ACQUITS HERSELF.
It really does seem as wise a plan as any I am acquainted with, to let
this good woman act according to the constitution of her sex,--that is
to say, to say her say, and never be contradicted. We contradicted her
once or twice to reconcile her to herself; but all that came of it was
to make her contradict perhaps herself, but certainly us, ten times as
much. She did her best to explain her meaning; and we really ought to
enter more into their disabilities. Therefore let her tell her story, as
nearly in her own words, poor thing, as my sense of the English language
can in any style agree with.
"I was nurse at Narnton Court, ever so many years ago--when my name was
Susan Moggeridge,--Charley, you cannot deny it, you know; and all of us
must be content to grow old, it is foolish to look at things otherwise.
Twelve and six, that makes eighteen; now, Captain Wells, you know it do;
and, Charley, can you say otherwise? Then it must have been eighteen
years agone, when I was took on for under-nurse, because the Princess
was expecting, the same as the butler told me. And it came to pass on a
Sunday night, with two miles away from the doctor. Orders had been
given; but they foreigners always do belie them. Too soon always, or too
late; and these two little dears was too soon, by reason of the
wonderful child the eldest one was prepared for. A maid she was, and the
other a boy; two real beauties both of them; as fair as could be, with
little clear dots under their skin, in corner places, because of their
mother the Princess. But nothing as any one would observe, except for a
beauty to both of them. The boy was the biggest, though the girl came
first; and first was her nature in everything, except, of course, in
fatness, and by reason of always dancing. Not six months old was that
child before she could dance on the kitchen table with only one hand to
hold her up, and a pleasure it was to look at her. And laugh with her
little funny face, and nod her head, she would, as if she saw to the
bottom of everything. And when she were scarce turned the twelvemonth,
she could run, like--oh, just like anything, and roll over and over on
the grass with her 'Pomyolianian dog,' as she called him, and there
wasn't a word in the language as ever come amiss to her, but for the r's
or the y's in it. Words such as I could lay no tongue to, she would take
and pronounce right off, and then laugh at herself and everybody. And
the way she used to put her hands out, laying down the law to all of
us--we didn't want a showman in the house so long as we had Miss Bertha,
or 'Bardie,' as she called herself, though christened after her mother.
Everybody, the poor little mite, she expected everybody to know her name
and all about her; and nothing put her in such a passion as to pretend
not to know who she was. 'I'se Bardie,' she used to cry out, with her
little hands spread, and her bright eyes flashing; 'I'se Bardie, I tell
'a; and evelybody knows it.' Oh yes, and she never could say 'th'--but
'niss' and 'nat,' for this and that. And how angry she used to be, to be
sure, if anybody mocked her, as we used to do for the fun of it. But
even there, she was up to us, for she began to talk French, for revenge
upon us, having taken the trick from her mother.
"Likewise the boy was a different child altogether in many ways. He
scarcely could learn to speak at all, because he was a very fine child
indeed, and quiet, and fat, and easy. He would lie by for hours on a
velvet cushion, and watch his little sister having her perpetual round
of play. Dolls, and horses, and Noah's arks, and all the things that
were alive to her, and she talking to them whiles the hour,--he took no
more notice than just to stroke them, and say, 'Boo, boo!' or 'Poor,
poor!' which was nearly all that he could say. Not that he was to blame,
of course, nor would any one having sense think of it, especially after
he took the pink fever, and it struck to his head, and they cut his hair
off. Beautiful curls as was ever seen, and some of them in my drawer
up-stairs now, with the colour of gold streaking over them. Philip his
name was, of course, from Sir Philip, and being the heir to the title;
but his clever sister she always called him 'little brother,' as if he
was just born almost, when he weighed pretty nearly two of her.
"Sir Philip, the good old gentleman, was away in foreign parts, they
said, or commanding some of the colonies, up to the time when these two
twins were close upon two years old, or so. I remember quite well when
he came home with his luggage marked 'General Bampfylde;' and we said it
was disrespectful of the Government to call him so, when his true name
was 'Sir Philip.' He had never seen his grandchildren till now, and what
a fuss he made with them! But they had scarcely time to know him before
they were sadly murdered; or worse, perhaps, for all that any one knows
to the contrary. Because Sir Philip's younger son, Captain Drake
Bampfylde, came from the seas and America, just at this time. No one
expected him, of course, from among such distant places; and he had not
been home for three years at least, and how noble he did look, until we
saw how his shirts were cobbled! And every one all about the place said
that his little finger was worth the whole of the Squire's body. Because
the Squire, his elder brother, and the heir of Sir Philip, was of a
nature, not to say--but I cannot make it clear to you. No one could say
a word against him; only he were not, what you may call it,--not as we
Devonshire people are,--not with a smile and kind look of the eye, the
same as Captain Drake was.
"This poor Captain Drake--poor or bad, I scarce know which to put it,
after all I have heard of him--anyhow his mind was set upon a little
chit of a thing, not more than fifteen at this time. Her name was Isabel
Carey, and her father had been a nobleman, and when he departed this
life he ordered her off to Narnton Court. So she did at an early age;
and being so beautiful as some thought, she was desperate with the
Captain. They used to go walking all up in the woods, or down on the
river in a boat, until it was too bad of them. The Captain, I daresay,
meant no harm, and perhaps he did none; but still there are sure to be
talkative people who want to give their opinions. If Charley had carried
on so with me, whatever should I have thought of myself?
"Well, there was everybody saying very fine things to everybody, gay
doings likewise, and great feasts, and singing, and dancing, and all the
rest. And the Captain hired a pleasure-boat, by name the 'Wild Duck of
Appledore;' and I never shall forget the day when he took a whole pack
of us for a sail out over Barnstaple bar and back. I was forced to go,
because he needs must take the children; and several even old people
were sick, but no one a quarter so bad as me. And it came into my mind
in that state, that he was longing, as well as welcome, to cast us all
into the raging sea. However, the Lord preserved us. This little ship
had one mast, as they call it, and he kept her generally in a little
bend just above the salmon-weir, so as to see the men draw the pool, and
himself to shoot the wild-fowl, from a covered place there is; and by
reason of being so long at sea, he could not sleep comfortable at the
Court, but must needs make his bed in this pleasuring-ship, and to it he
used to go to and fro in a little white boat as belonged to it.
"All this time the weather was so hot we could scarcely bear our clothes
on, and were ready to envy them scandalous savages belonging to the
famous Parson Chowne, who went about with no clothes on. There was one
of these known to be down on the burrows a-bathing of his wife and
family, if a decent woman may name them so. Well, the whole of these gay
goings on, to celebrate the return of Sir Philip, and of Captain Drake,
and all that they owed to the Lord for His goodness, was to finish up
with a great dinner to all the tenants on the property; and then on the
children's birthday, a feasting of all the gentry around; and a dance
with all sorts of outlandish dresses and masks on, in the evening. For
the fashion of this was come down from London, and there had been a
party of this sort over to Lord Bassett's; and the neighbourhood was
wild with it. And after this everything was to be quiet, because my Lady
the Princess Bertha was again beginning to expect almost.
"And now, Captain Wells, you would hardly believe what a blow there was
sent, by the will of the Lord, upon all of this riot and revelry. There
was many of us having pious disposals, as well as religious
bringings-up, whose stomachs really was turned by the worldliness as was
around us. Young ladies of the very best families, instead of turning
their minds to the Lord, turning of themselves about, with young men
laying hold of them, as if there was nothing more to be said than 'Kiss
me quick!' and, 'I'll do it again!' But there was a judgment coming.
They might lay the blame on me, if they like. There is folk as knows
better.
"That very night it was so hot, with the sun coming up from the river,
that even the great hall the dance was to be in, was only fit to lie
down in. So that Captain Drake, in his man-of-war voice, shouted (and I
think I can hear him now), 'Ladies and gentlemen, I propose that we have
our dance out on the terrace.' This was the open made-up flat between
the house and the river, and the Captain's offer was caught up at,
directly the gentlefolk seen the moon.
"Here they were going on ever so long; and the more of twirling round
they had, and of making heel and toe, and crossing arms and even
frontesses, the more they seemed to like it; also the music up and down
almost as bad as they was; so that what with the harlequin dresses, and
masquerading, and mummeries, scarcely any one could have the head to be
sure of any one else almost. I could not help looking at them, although
my place was to heed the children only, and keep them out of mischief,
and take them to bed at the proper time. But Captain Drake, who was
here, there, and elsewhere, making himself agreeable, up he comes to me
with a bottle, and he says, 'Mary, have some.' 'My name is not Mary, but
Susan, sir, and much at your service,' I answered; so that he poured me
a great glassful, and said that it was Sam--something. I was not so rude
as to give him denial, but made him a curtsy, and drank it, for it was
not so strong as my father's cider; no, nor so good to my liking. And
for any to say that it got in my head, shows a very spiteful woman. The
Captain went on to the other maids, as were looking on for the life of
them, all being out-of-doors, you must mind, and longing to have their
turn at it. But I held myself above them always, and went back to my
children.
"These were in a little bower made up for the occasion, with boughs of
trees, and twisted wood, and moss from the forest to lie upon. Master
Philip was tired and heavy, and working his eyes with the backs of his
hands, and yawning, and falling away almost. But that little Bertha was
as wide-awake as a lark on her nest in the morning. Everywhere she was
looking about for somebody to encourage her to have 'more play,' as she
always called for; and 'more play' continually. That child was so full
of life, it was 'more play' all day long with her! And even now, in the
fiery heat and thorough down thirst of the weather, nothing was further
from her mind than to go to bed without a gambol for it. She had nothing
on but her little shift, or under-frock I should call it, made by
myself, when the hot weather came, from a new jemmyset of the Princess,
and cut out by my lady to fit her for the sake of the coolness. Her
grand white upper frock, trimmed with lace, had been taken off by her
papa, I believe, when the visitors would have her dance on the table,
and make speeches to them; the poor little soul was so quick and so hot.
"Well, I do declare to you, Captain Wells, and Charley, Polly likewise,
which will believe me, though the men may not, it was not more than a
minute or so much, perhaps I should say not half a minute, as I happened
to turn round to pass a compliment with a young man as seemed struck
with me the Sunday before in church-time; a sailor he were, and had come
with the Captain, and was his mate of the pleasure-boat. A right down
handsome young man he was--no call for you to be jealous, Charley.
Beneath the salt waves he do lie. Well, I turned back my head in about
five seconds, and both of the babes was gone out of my sight! At first I
were not frightened much. I took it for one of Miss Bertha's tricks, to
make off with her little brother. So strong she was on her legs, though
light, that many a time she would lift him up by his middle and carry
him half round the room, and then both of them break out laughing. 'I'll
whip you, you see if I don't,' I cried, as I ran round the corner to
seek for them; though whip them I never did, poor dears, any more than
their own mother did. I ran all about, for five minutes at least, around
and among the branches stuck in to make the bower, and every moment I
made up my mind for Miss Bardie to pop out on me. But pop out she never
did, nor will, until the day of judgment.
"When I began to see something more than an innocent baby trick in it,
and to think (I daresay) of these two babies' value, with all the land
they were born to, the first thing I did was to call out 'Jack!' such
being all sailors' names, of course. But Jack was gone out of all
hearing; and most folk said it was Jack that took them! To the contrary
I could swear; but who would listen to me when the lie went out that I
was quite tipsy?
"Of the rest I cannot speak clearly, because my heart flew right up into
my brain, directly moment the people came round shouting at me for the
children. And of these the very worst was Parson Chowne. If it had been
his own only children--such as he says he is too good to have--he
scarcely could have been more rampagious, not to use worse words of him.
The first thing that every one ran to, of course, was the parapetch and
the river, and a great cry was made for Captain Drake Bampfylde, from
his knowledge of the waterways. But, though all the evening foremost in
conducting everything, now there was no sign to be had of him, or of who
had seen him last. And it must have been an hour ere ever he come, and
then of course it was too late.
"I was so beside myself all that night that I cannot tell how the time
went by. I remember looking over the parapetch at a place where the
water is always deep, and seeing the fishermen from the salmon-weir
dragging their nets for the poor mites of bodies. And my blood seemed to
curdle inside me almost, every time they came out with a stone or a log.
Nothing was found from that night to this day, and nothing will ever be
found of it. I was discharged, and a great many others; not the first
time in this world, I believe, when the bottom of the whole was
witchcraft. Here, Charley, put something hot in my glass; the evenings
are getting so dark; and I never can see the moon and the water, like
that, and the trees, without remembering. Now ask me no more, if you
please, good people."
When Mrs Shapland had finished this tale, and was taking some
well-earned refreshment, Polly and I looked at one another, as much as
to say, "That settles it." Nor did we press her with any more questions
until her mind had recovered its tone by frying some slices of ham cut
thin, and half-a-dozen new-laid eggs for us. Then, I approached her with
no small praise, which she deserved, and appeared (so far as I could
judge) to desire, perhaps; and with a little skill on my part, she was
soon warmed up again, having tasted egg-flip, to be sure of it.
"Yes, Captain Wells, you can see through the whole of it. Sailors can
understand a river, when nobody else knows anything. The Captain came
forward as soon as he could, and he says, 'You fools, what are you
about? An hour ago the tide was running five knots an hour where you be
dragging! If the poor children fell over, they must be down river-bar by
this time.' And off he set out on a galloping horse, to scurry the
sandhills somehow. And scurry was now the whole of it. Sir Philip came
forth, and that poor Squire Philip; and a thousand pounds was as freely
talked of as if it was halfpence. And every one was to be put in prison;
especially me, if you please, as blameless as the unborn babe was! And
that very night the Princess were taken, and died the next day,
upsetting everything, ever so much worse than ever. For poor Squire
Philip fell into a trance, so to say, out of sheer vexation. He cried
out that the hand of the Lord was upon him, and too heavy for him to
bear--particular from his own brother. And after that not an inch would
he budge to make inquiry or anything, but shut himself up in his dead
wife's rooms, and there he have moped from that day to this, in a living
grave, as you may call it."
In reply to my question what reasons the Squire, or any one else, might
have for charging the Captain with so vile a deed, this excellent woman
set them forth pretty much to the following purport. First, it was the
Captain himself who proposed the dancing on the terrace. Second, it was
his own man who drew her attention away from the children, after a
goblet of wine had been administered by the master. Third, it was his
own boat which was missing, and never heard of afterwards. Fourth, the
Captain himself disappeared from the party at the very time that the
children were stolen, and refused to say whither, or why, he was gone.
That active and shrewd man Parson Chowne no sooner heard of the loss
than he raised a cry for the Captain all over the terrace, to come and
command the fishermen; and though as a friend of the family Chowne would
never express an opinion, he could not undo that sad shake of the head
which he gave when no Captain could be found. Fifth, a man with a
Captain's hat was seen burying two small bodies that night, in the depth
of Braunton Wilderness; though nothing was heard of it till the next
week, through the savageness of the witness; and by that time the fierce
storm on the Sunday had changed the whole face of the burrows, so that
to find the spot was impossible. Sixth, it was now recalled to mind that
Drake Bampfylde had killed a poor schoolfellow in his young days, for
which the Lord had most righteously sent a shark in pursuit of him. It
was likely enough that he would go on killing children upon occasion.
Seventh reason, and perhaps worth all the rest--only think what a motive
he had for it. No one else could gain sixpence by it; Drake Bampfylde
would gain everything--the succession to the title and estates, and the
immediate right to aspire to the hand of the beautiful heiress, Miss
Carey, who was known to favour him.
An elderly woman, who had been in the workhouse, and throve upon that
experience, said that the Captain would never have done it; for he might
have to do the like thing again, every time the poor Princess should
happen to be confined almost. But who could listen to this poor
creature, while the result lay there before them?
Thus the common people reasoned; but our Susan attached no weight to any
except the last argument. As for one, she knew quite well that the young
seaman sauntered there quite by chance, and quite by chance she spoke to
him: and as for wine, she could take a quart of her father's cider, and
feel it less than she could describe to any one; and as for a rummer of
that stuff she had, it was quite below contempt to her. And concerning
the Captain just being away, and declining to say where he was, like a
gentleman; none but ignorant folk could pretend not to know what that
meant. Of course he was gone, between the dances, for a little cool walk
in the firwoods, together with his Isabel; and to expose her name to the
public, with their nasty way of regarding things, was utterly out of the
question to a real British officer! And to finish it, Mrs Shapland said
that she was almost what you might call a young woman even now; at any
rate with ten times the sense any of the young ones were up to. And ten
years of her life she would give, if Charley would allow of her, to know
what became of them two little dears, and to punish the villain that
wronged them.
Hereupon my warmth of heart got the better of my prudence. My wise and
pure intention was to get out of this good woman all I could; but impart
to her nothing more than was needful, just to keep her talking.
Experience shows us that this need be very little indeed, if anything,
in a female dialogue. But now I was brought to such a pitch of
tenderness by this time, with my heart in a rapid pulse of descriptions,
and the egg-flip going round sturdily, also Polly looking at me in a
most beseeching way, that I could not keep my own counsel even, but was
compelled to increase their comfort by declaring every thing.