Evening was drawing on when Brinsmead and Jack saw the towers of the
numerous churches which Norwich possessed, each situated on its own
peculiar mound or hill. On entering the town, they proceeded through
its narrow and winding streets to the Bear Inn, which Brinsmead usually
frequented.
"There is time to present your letters this evening," he observed to
Jack. "When there's business to be done there's nothing like doing it
immediately. It's provoking to find when you have delayed that the
person whom you wished to meet has left the town the morning after your
arrival, when you might have found him had you gone to his abode
immediately."
Jack, nothing loath, prepared himself to call upon Mr Gournay. He
liked old Brinsmead very well in his way; but could not help sighing for
more refined society than his late companions afforded. He therefore
put on his Sunday suit, and made himself as presentable as possible. He
had no difficulty in finding his way to Mr Gournay's handsome and
substantial residence, it being one of the principal mansions in the
place. The great merchant himself was out; but he was admitted into the
presence of the mistress of the family, who received him with a sweet
and matronly grace. She wore her soft brown hair without the addition
of any false curls, a rich grey silk gown woven by the Huguenot weavers
in Spitalfields, a Norwich-crape shawl, and fine Flemish cambric in her
cap, neckerchief, and ruffles. Although it was the custom for ladies of
rank to wear rouge as thick as paste, she wore none. She made many
inquiries after her esteemed friends Mr and Mrs Strelley, as well as
Jack's father and mother, and invited him to remain for their evening
meal, which was to be served as soon as Mr Gournay and the other
gentlemen inmates of their family returned. While they were speaking
four young boys came into the room, whom Mrs Gournay introduced as her
sons. They were followed by a tall and graceful lady in deep mourning,
no longer young, but bearing traces of considerable beauty.
"I must make you known to my friend and inmate Madame de Mertens," said
Mrs Gournay. "She speaks English perfectly, having resided with us for
some years, since she was compelled by the Popish Government of France
to quit her native country."
"Ah, yes; and I have found a happy and quiet home here," said the lady.
"If those I have lost could be restored to me, I would willingly abandon
all hopes of regaining the fortune and estate I once enjoyed. Ah,
Monsieur Deane," she exclaimed, after some further conversation had
passed between them, "how can any English people regret their Popish
king? I am told that even now among your noblest families there are
some ready to risk life and fortune to bring him back! See what ours
has done for us! Think of the atrocities of his barbarous dragoons in
our Protestant districts--peaceful homes given up to pillage, to fire,
and the sword. The best of our pastors flogged, and tortured in other
ways, imprisoned in loathsome dungeons--what do I say? worse, oh, worse
than all! the horrors of the galleys reserved for the noblest and best,
for such as my own dear husband Eugene, who, if he still lives, may yet
be labouring at the oar, among slaves and outcasts of all nations! Oh,
may heaven in mercy rescue him from such an existence!"
She ceased, for her feeling, roused by the recollection of the terrible
scenes she had gone through, overcame her power of speech. She hid her
face for some moments in her hands!
"I should not have ventured to speak on this subject," she said, when
she again looked up. "My husband was Dutch, of an old family; but when
he married me he became naturalised as a Frenchman. For a few years
after our marriage we lived a life of tranquillity and happiness in a
chateau which I had inherited, removed from the turmoil of the world and
political strife. We had one only child, a fair-haired, blue-eyed
little damsel, with bright rosy cheeks and a happy, joyous smile on her
countenance. At length, however, fearful troubles broke upon us on the
revocation of the Edict of Nantes, just ten years ago. It was a time
fatal to Protestants who ventured to remain in the country. Many of the
best and noblest in the land fled from persecution. Some effected their
escape, but many were overtaken, and were executed, or are still
groaning in prisons, or, like my dear husband, in the galleys. My dear
sister and her husband had come to reside with us, hoping that in our
secluded abode they would escape observation. Her health was delicate,
and on that fatal night when the dragoons burst into our house and
carried off my brother-in-law, so greatly was she affected that her
spirits gave way, and in a few days afterwards she sank to rest from
this troubled world. My brother-in-law was heart-broken at the loss of
his wife. He little knew how soon he was to follow her! My husband was
absent from the house, when one evening I received notice that some
officers of justice, as they were called, were approaching, in search of
Protestants. I had just time to snatch up my little Elise, and to hurry
off to the woods, where, in a hut which had been prepared by a faithful
attendant, and known only to him, we were able to conceal ourselves. My
dear husband, not aware of the personages who had possession of our
house, returned late in the evening, having missed those who were on the
watch to give him notice of what had occurred. He was instantly seized,
and carried off for trial before the Government officials, who had been
sent to the neighbourhood for that purpose. He, like a faithful servant
of our blessed Master, refused to deny Him, or to acknowledge the truth
of any of the dogmas of Rome. He was accordingly condemned to the
galleys, a fearful fate! He was immediately marched off with many
others, condemned for the same crime, to one of the naval ports; but
from that day to this I have had no tidings of him, and if he has
survived the hardships he has had to undergo, he is still labouring at
the oar in one of those dreadful ships, enduring the worst kind of
slavery, for life alone will terminate it. My poor brother-in-law was
also captured, and refusing to recant, he was treated, being a
Frenchman, even more severely than my husband, for he was first
tortured; still holding out, the barbarians placed him on the cruel
wheel, where, while still alive, his bones were broken, and he, as did
many other faithful Protestants, expired, though in fearful torments,
still crying to their Lord and Master, and acknowledging His love and
the efficacy of the perfect sacrifice He offered for them. Our faithful
Pierre, the steward of our estate, having collected all the jewels and
other property which he could find, brought them to me and urged me on
no account to return to the chateau, being sure that both Elise and I
should be sacrificed to the fury of our enemies. Having friends in
England, I resolved forthwith to escape to this country. I will not
trouble you with my various adventures as I endeavoured to make my way
with little Elise in my arms to the sea-coast. The poor people in the
villages through which I passed, compassionating me and my little girl,
gave us all the assistance in their power. Often some honest farmer,
though at considerable risk to himself, would drive me some distance,
concealed in his waggon, in the direction I wished to go. Thus I at
length reached the neighbourhood of the north coast, where I hoped to
find a vessel which would convey me to the shores of England. I had
already gained the beach, when in consequence of the waves breaking on
the shore, there was great difficulty in embarking. Fearing that Elise
might receive some harm should I attempt to hold her while getting into
the boat, I committed her to the charge of a seaman, an officer he
seemed of some sort, who told me he was going off with us. A
considerable number of other people were about to embark in the same
vessel, and were crowding down to the edge of the water, when there was
a cry that the dragoons were advancing towards us. I in vain attempted
to reach the boat. Other people were crowding in, and the seamen,
afraid that some accident would happen from her being overloaded, shoved
her off into deep water. In vain I entreated that Elise might be
restored to me, or that I might be taken on board.
"`The dragoons! the dragoons!' shouted the people all around me.
"`Come, madame, this is no place for you!' I heard a person say close
to me. He seized my arm, and almost dragged me along the beach. `I
know of a place near here where you can be concealed,' he said. `I will
conduct you to it; there is no time to lose.'
"Again I entreated him to look for Elise.
"`That will be useless,' he answered: `she is in God's hands, and He
will preserve her! You can do nothing now.'
"He forced me on; and I could not indeed help feeling the justice of his
remarks.
"Assisted on by him we reached some rocks, amid which he worked his way,
even though it was dark, showing that he was well acquainted with the
spot. After going on for some time longer, I found that we were in
front of a small cave.
"`Go in there,' he said, in a low voice. `It is large enough to contain
many people; and I have stored it with food for such an emergency as
this.'
"The stranger then told me that he was the Protestant pastor of the
neighbouring district, and that, though compelled to quit his church, he
still ministered in secret among his former flock, who supplied him with
food, and warned him of the approach of danger. He had devoted himself
to assisting those Protestants who, less fortunate than himself, came to
that part of the coast.
"`I am aware,' he said, `that at any moment I may be discovered; and yet
I feel that I am called to this work. God in His mercy has thought fit
to preserve me from the hands of my persecutors!'
"Supplied with food and other necessaries by this brave and good man, I
remained for several days in the cave. He had a sad account to give me
of the fate of most of the fugitives who had been unable to get on board
the vessel. Some were cruelly sabred by the dragoons, even though
crying for quarter. Others--men, women (young and old), and children--
were lifted up on their horses, and carried off at full speed to the
neighbouring town, where they were thrown into the dungeons already
crowded with prisoners.
"At length the good pastor considered it safe to conduct me to a lonely
farm-house, where he told me I must remain till he could arrange for my
passage to England. I longed to go, in the hopes of recovering my dear
little Elise. Nearly a month passed before he was able to make the
desired arrangements. I wished to pay the good people with whom I had
lived, but they would receive no remuneration, and insisted on carrying
me in a cart to the beach, where the boat was ready to receive me. A
gale came on soon after we were at sea, and we were driven up the
Channel till we were off the town of Yarmouth, where at length I landed.
Some co-religionists of the good Mr Gournay, living in that town,
hearing of my arrival, received me in their house; and from thence I
came on to Norwich, where I have ever since resided. In vain I have
made inquiries for my dear little Elise, greatly helped by my kind
friends in this house, but no news have I received of her. You, I am
told, Monsieur Deane, are likely to be constantly moving about the
country, and it is possible that you may thus hear of the little girl,
should she have escaped."
"But she must have greatly grown since the time you speak of," observed
Deane: "it was fully ten years ago, was it not?"
"Ah, yes--yes!" answered Madame de Mertens; "but she cannot be so
changed that I should not know her; and you may hear, among the Huguenot
families, of a little orphan girl, though, I fear, alas! that there are
many, many such. I will show her picture to you as I conceive her to
be, and that perhaps may help you. I have drawn it often and often; for
my great delight is to think of the little girl, and of my dear husband
also. You would not know him though, I fear, if he survives, so greatly
changed must he be by the hardships and barbarities he has gone through.
Compared to his, my own fate has been fortunate, thanks to the
generosity of my kind friends in this house, and to others. I have also
been able to support myself by teaching, and have even had it in my
power to help others of my countrymen who required assistance; but still
the picture of my dear husband, in that dreadful slave-ship, is
constantly coming before me; and often and often I think of my beloved
child, thrown among strangers, who may too probably be of an inferior
class, unable to give her instruction, or perhaps Papists, who will
bring her up in a faith so contrary to that for which her father died,
and those who love her suffered!"
Jack, much interested in what he heard, promised faithfully to lose no
opportunity of making inquiries for the little Elise, who, however, by
that time must have been fifteen years of age--a fact which her mother,
when first describing her, seemed to have overlooked.
When Jack afterwards told Brinsmead of the commission he had undertaken,
the old man smiled somewhat grimly, as was his wont when he smiled at
all, saying, "I am afraid it will be something like looking for a needle
in a stack of hay, but at the same time the needle may be found, so I do
not tell you not to do your best to execute the poor lady's wishes."
Madame de Mertens had just brought her history to a conclusion when Mr
Gournay, accompanied by Giles Dainsforth, entered the room.
"Friend Deane, I am truly glad to see thee," he said, taking Deane by
the hand. "I have heard of thee from friend Dainsforth here, and of thy
family, and I trust that anon we shall become better acquainted. Thou
hast an honest face, and if thou art diligent in business, thou art sure
to gain the competency which is all that a man need desire in this life,
and albeit its wealth flows in on some, by God's providence; remember,
shouldst thou ever possess it, that wealth may prove a snare and
temptation to thee, even as great as want and poverty is to some men.
Thou wilt have need of prayer for guidance, even as much as thou hast at
present, for the devil is ever going about like a roaring lion, seeking
whom he may devour; and the rich man may prove as dainty a morsel to him
as the poor one--but above all does he delight in feeding upon those who
have a name to lose, those who are ensigns and leaders in their church,
elders and deacons, and such like. However, thou hast been journeying
all day, and I will not speak to thee more of this subject at present,
so come with us that thou mayst recruit thine inner man."
Saying this, the hospitable and generous Quaker led the way to his
handsome parlour. Though his own dress was simple--for he had abjured
ruffles and periwig, and wore neither sword, nor lace on his cloak, nor
clocks to his stockings--yet it was of the best material, and in no way
different in form from that of other wealthy merchants and commoners,
while the apartment into which he ushered his guest was richly
furnished, and the table was covered with a handsome service of plate
and china.
Giles Dainsforth, who, though not a Quaker, was dressed with Puritan
simplicity, was a tall, strongly-built young man, with intelligent,
though not refined features. He welcomed Jack warmly, as the brother of
one to whom he was engaged. Mr Gournay treated him with a respect and
consideration which showed that he had confidence in his integrity.
Jack thus at once made himself at home, and he could not help
contrasting his present position to the life he had been leading for so
many days.
His host, John Gournay, who was born in 1655, was the founder of the
family, who have since become known for their wealth and liberality. At
an early day he had joined the Society of Friends, or Quakers, as they
were called, and established himself as a merchant at Norwich, where he
became the owner of several manufactories. It was greatly in
consequence of the encouragement and support which he gave to the French
Protestant refugees that he was enabled to lay the foundation of the
vast wealth of the family in trade, which their industry supplied. His
generosity, liberality, and industry being thus speedily rewarded by the
hand of Providence. His silk and wool mills were the best then in
England for the usual Norwich manufactures, as also for other delicate
productions, such as crape shawls and dress-fabrics. Although somewhat
grave and formal in his discourse to strangers, at his genial board his
formality soon disappeared, and Jack Deane, as has been said, passed a
pleasanter evening than he had enjoyed for some time. Although profane
music was not indulged in, Mistress Gournay and Madame de Mertens sang
some very sweet and touching hymns, which went more to Jack's heart than
any music he had ever heard.
Giles Dainsforth insisted on accompanying Jack back to his inn, to which
he wished to return, though hospitably pressed to remain by Mr Gournay.
Dainsforth of course had many inquiries to make about Jack's family,
and especially about Kate. He confided to Jack his intention of seeking
his fortune in the new colony in America, established by Master William
Penn, the son of the celebrated Admiral.
"As to worldly wealth, dear Jack," he said, "I might gain that in
England, but of freedom of conscience and freedom of worship, we may at
any time be deprived, I fear. Our present king--may Heaven preserve
him!--is liberal, but there are many malignants yet in the country who
are striving for place and power, and we know not what another reign may
bring forth. Other Acts of Conformity may be passed; and I cannot
forget the cruel way in which our divines were treated in the last
reign, when they were cast out on the cold world to gain their
livelihood, as best they could, by those who sought to obtain only the
loaves and fishes which their livings afforded."
"But will my father agree to let sister Kate cross the ocean, and leave
him for ever?" asked Jack.
"Thy father is a man of sense," answered Dainsforth. "In most things he
agrees with me; albeit he is more inclined to associate with malignants
than I approve of, yet he, too, sees how the wind blows, and if he
thinks it is for the happiness of thy sister Kate, he will not prevent
her following the bent of her inclinations. Often has she said to me,
`Where thou goest I will go,' and therefore, without undue presumption,
I may hope that she will consent to accompany me across the wide ocean
to the land of promise. It is a beautiful and rich country, Jack; I
would that thou wouldst make up thy mind to come with us! We might
there, in a new England, enjoy that peace and prosperity and liberty of
conscience, and freedom to worship God as we list, which may be denied
us in this old country."
The idea was quite a new one to Jack. It had never occurred to him to
seek his fortune abroad, simply, probably, because he had not been
thrown in the way of persons who spoke on the subject. He promised
Dainsforth, however, to consider the matter.
"I will talk to thee anon more about it, Jack," said Dainsforth, as they
parted. "For a young man enjoying the health and strength that thou
doest, I cannot picture a finer calling than that of subduing the
wilderness, of turning a desert into a garden, and producing fruitful
corn-fields out of wild land. The vine and the olive, and the orange
flourish, they say, out there; and that corn which they call maize, with
its golden head, so rich and prolific; and there are deer in the woods,
and quail innumerable, and fish in the rivers and in the sea which
washes its coasts. Indeed all the wants of man can there be amply
supplied."
Dainsforth having given a description of the New World to Jack
sufficient to keep him awake all the night with thinking of it, took his
departure at length from the inn, promising to call for him on the
morrow, and to assist him in transacting the business he had undertaken
for Mr Strelley and other friends in Nottingham. Dainsforth expressed
his hope of meeting him ere long at Nottingham, to which place he
expected to be sent in the course of the autumn on some business for Mr
Gournay. Jack was sorry when his visit to Norwich came to an end.