_Of our coming to London (with incidents by the way), and of the great
address whereby Moll confounds Simon, the steward._
On the third day of July, all things falling in pat with the Don's
design, we bade farewell to Elche, Dawson and I with no sort of regret,
but Moll in tears at parting from those friends she had grown to love
very heartily. And these friends would each have her take away something
for a keepsake, such as rings to wear on her arms and on her ankles (as
is the Moorish fashion), silk shawls, etc., so that she had quite a
large present of finery to carry away; but we had nothing whatever but
the clothes we stood in, and they of the scantiest, being simply long
shirts and "bernouses" such as common Moors wear. For the wise Don would
let us take nought that might betray our sojourn in Spain, making us
even change our boots for wooden sandals, he himself being arrayed no
better than we. Nor was this the only change insisted on by our
governor; for on Dawson bidding Moll in a surly tone to give over a
shedding of tears, Don Sanchez turns upon him, and says he:
"It is time to rehearse the parts we are to play. From this day forth
your daughter is Mistress Judith Godwin, you are Captain Robert Evans,
and you" (to me), "Mr. Hopkins, the merchant. Let us each play our part
with care, that we do not betray ourselves by a slip in a moment of
unforeseen danger."
"You are in the right, Señor," answers Jack, "for I doubt it must be a
hard task to forget that Mistress Judith is my daughter, as it is for a
loving father to hold from chiding of his own flesh and blood; so I pray
you, Madam" (to Moll), "bear that in mind and vex me no more."
We lay this lesson seriously to heart, Dawson and I, for the Don's hint
that we might end our career in gaol did still rankle woundily in our
minds. And so very soberly we went out of the forest of Elche in the
night on mules lent us by Sidi ben Ahmed, with a long cavalcade of mules
charged with merchandise for embarking on board the pirates' vessel, and
an escort of some half-dozen fierce-looking corsairs armed with long
firelocks and a great store of awesome crooked knives stuck in their
waist-cloths.
After journeying across the plain, we came about midday to the seaboard,
and there we spied, lying in a sheltered bay, a long galley with three
masts, each dressed with a single cross-spar for carrying a
leg-of-mutton sail, and on the shore a couple of ship's boats with a
company of men waiting to transport our goods and us aboard. And here
our hearts quaked a bit at the thought of trusting ourselves in the
hands of these same murderous-looking pirates. Nevertheless, when our
time came we got us into their boat, recommending ourselves very
heartily to God's mercy, and so were rowed out to the galley, where we
were very civilly received by an old Moor with a white beard, who seemed
well acquainted with Don Sanchez. Then the merchandise being all aboard,
and the anchor up, the men went to their oars, a dozen of each side, and
rowed us out of the bay until, catching a little wind of air, the sails
were run up, and we put out to sea very bravely.
"Señor," says Dawson, "I know not how I am to play this part of a
sea-captain when we are sent on board an English ship, for if they ask
me any questions on this business of navigating, I am done for a
certainty."
"Rest easy on that score, Evans," replies the Don. "I will answer for
you, for I see very clearly by your complexion that you will soon be
past answering them yourself."
And this forecast was quickly verified; for ere the galley had dipped a
dozen times to the waves, poor Dawson was laid low with a most horrid
sickness like any dying man.
By sundown we sighted the island of Maggiore, and in the roads there we
cast anchor for the night, setting sail again at daybreak; and in this
latitude we beat up and down a day and a night without seeing any sail,
but on the morning of the third day a fleet of five big ships appeared
to the eastward, and shifting our course we bore down upon them with
amazing swiftness. Then when we were near enough to the foremast to see
her English flag and the men aboard standing to their deck guns for a
defence, our old Moor fires a gun in the air, takes in his sails, and
runs up a great white flag for a sign of peace. And now with shrewd
haste a boat was lowered, and we were set in it with a pair of oars, and
the old pirate bidding us farewell in his tongue, clapt on all sail and
stood out before the wind, leaving us there to shift for ourselves. Don
Sanchez took one oar, and I t'other,--Dawson lying in the bottom and not
able to move a hand to save his life,--and Moll held the tiller, and so
we pulled with all our force, crying out now and then for fear we should
not be seen, till by God's providence we came alongside the Talbot of
London, and were presently hoisted aboard without mishap. Then the
captain of the Talbot and his officers gathering about us were mighty
curious to know our story, and Don Sanchez very briefly told how we had
gone in the Red Rose of Bristol to redeem two ladies from slavery; how
we had found but one of these ladies living (at this Moll buries her
face in her hands as if stricken with grief); how, on the eve of our
departure, some of our crew in a drunken frolic had drowned a Turk of
Alger, for which we were condemned by their court to pay an indemnity
far and away beyond our means; how they then made this a pretext to
seize our things, though we were properly furnished with the Duke's
pass, and hold our men in bond; and how having plundered us of all we
had, and seeing there was no more to be got, they did offer us our
freedom for a written quittance of all they had taken for their
justification if ever they should be brought to court; and finally, how,
accepting of these conditions, we were shipped aboard their galley with
nothing in the world but a few trifles, begged by Mistress Judith in
remembrance of her mother.
This story was accepted without any demur; nay, Captain Ballcock, being
one of those men who must ever appear to know all things, supported it
in many doubtful particulars, saying that he remembered the Rose of
Bristol quite well; that he himself had seen a whole ship's crew sold
into slavery for no greater offence than breaking a mosque window; that
the Duke's pass counted for nothing with these Turks; that he knew the
galley we were brought in as well as he knew Paul's Church, having
chased it a dozen times, yet never got within gunshot for her swift
sailing, etc., which did much content us to hear.
But the officers were mighty curious to know what ailed Captain Robert
Evans (meaning Dawson), fearing he might be ill of the plague; however,
on the Don's vowing that he was only sick of a surfeit, Captain Ballcock
declared he had guessed it the moment he clapt eyes on him, as he
himself had been taken of the same complaint with only eating a dish of
pease pudding. Nevertheless, he ordered the sick man to be laid in a
part of the ship furthest from his quarters, and so great was the dread
of pestilence aboard that (as his sickness continued) not a soul would
venture near him during the whole voyage except ourselves, which also
fell in very well with our wishes. And so after a fairly prosperous
voyage we came up the Thames to Chatham, the third day of August.
We had been provided with some rough seamen's clothes for our better
covering on the voyage; but now, being landed, and lodged in the Crown
inn at Chatham, Don Sanchez would have the captain take them all back.
"But," says he, "if you will do us yet another favour, Captain, will you
suffer one of your men to carry a letter to Mistress Godwin's steward at
Chislehurst, that he may come hither to relieve us from our present
straits?"
"Aye," answers he, "I will take the letter gladly, myself; for nothing
pleases me better than a ramble in the country where I was born and
bred."
So Moll writes a letter at once to Simon, bidding him come at once to
her relief; and Captain Ballcock, after carefully enquiring his way to
this place he knew so well (as he would have us believe), starts off
with it, accompanied by his boatswain, a good-natured kind of
lick-spittle, who never failed to back up his captain's assertions,
which again was to our great advantage; for Simon would thus learn our
story from his lips, and find no room to doubt its veracity.
As soon as these two were out of the house, Dawson, who had been carried
from the ship and laid in bed, though as hale since we passed the
Godwins as ever he was in his life before, sprang up, and declared he
would go to bed no more, for all the fortunes in the world, till he had
supped on roast pork and onions,--this being a dish he greatly loved,
but not to be had at Elche, because the Moors by their religion forbid
the use of swine's flesh,--and seeing him very determined on this head,
Don Sanchez ordered a leg of pork to be served in our chamber, whereof
Dawson did eat such a prodigious quantity, and drank therewith such a
vast quantity of strong ale (which he protested was the only liquor an
Englishman could drink with any satisfaction), that in the night he was
seized with most severe cramp in his stomach. This gave us the occasion
to send for a doctor in the morning, who, learning that Jack had been
ill ever since we left Barbary, and not understanding his present
complaint, pulled a very long face, and, declaring his case was very
critical, bled him copiously, forbade him to leave his bed for another
fortnight, and sent him in half a dozen bottles of physic. About midday
he returns, and, finding his patient no better, administers a bolus; and
while we are all standing about the bed, and Dawson the colour of death,
and groaning, betwixt the nausea of the drug he had swallowed and the
cramp in his inwards, in comes our Captain Ballcock and the little
steward.
"There!" cries he, turning on Simon, "did not I tell you that my old
friend Evans lay at death's door with the treatment he hath received of
these Barbary pirates? Now will you be putting us off with your doubts
and your questionings? Shall I have up my ship's company to testify to
the truth of my history? Look you, Madam," (to Moll), "we had all the
trouble in the world to make this steward of yours do your bidding; but
he should have come though we had to bring him by the neck and heels,
and a pox to him--saving your presence."
"But this is not Simon," says Moll, with a pretty air of innocence. "I
seem to remember Simon a bigger man than he."
"You must consider, Madam," says Don Sanchez, "that then you were very
small, scarce higher than his waist, maybe, and so you would have to
look up into his face."
"I did not think of that. And are you really Simon, who used to scold me
for plucking fruit?"
"Yea, verily," answers he. "Doubt it not, for thou also hast changed
beyond conception. And so it hath come to pass!" he adds, staring round
at us in our Moorish garb like one bewildered. "And thou art my mistress
now" (turning again to Moll).
"Alas!" says she, bowing her head and covering her eyes with her hand.
"Han't I told you so, unbelieving Jew Quaker!" growls Captain Ballcock,
in exasperation. "Why will you plague the unhappy lady with her loss?"
"We will leave Evans to repose," says Moll, brushing her eyes and
turning to the door. "You will save his life, Doctor, for he has given
me mine."
The doctor vowed he would, if bleeding and boluses could make him whole,
and so, leaving him with poor groaning Dawson, we went into the next
chamber. And there Captain Ballcock was for taking his leave; but Moll,
detaining him, says:
"We owe you something more than gratitude--we have put you to much
expense."
"Nay," cries he. "I will take nought for doing a common act of mercy."
"You shall not be denied the joy of generosity," says she, with a sweet
grace. "But you must suffer me to give your ship's company some token of
my gratitude." Then turning to Simon with an air of authority, she says,
"Simon, I have no money."
The poor man fumbled in his pocket, and bringing out a purse, laid it
open, showing some four or five pieces of silver and one of gold, which
he hastily covered with his hand.
"I see you have not enough," says Moll, and taking up a pen she quickly
wrote some words on a piece of paper, signing it "Judith Godwin." Then
showing it to Simon, she says, "You will pay this when it is presented
to you," and therewith she folds it and places it in the captain's hand,
bidding him farewell in a pretty speech.
"A hundred pounds! a hundred pounds!" gasps Simon, under his breath, in
an agony and clutching up his purse to his breast.
"I am astonished," says Moll, returning from the door, and addressing
Simon, with a frown upon her brow, "that you are not better furnished to
supply my wants, knowing by my letter how I stand."
"Mistress," replies he, humbly, "here is all I could raise upon such
sudden notice"--laying his purse before her.
"What is this?" cries she, emptying the contents upon the table. "'Tis
nothing. Here is barely sufficient to pay for our accommodation in this
inn. Where is the money to discharge my debt to these friends who have
lost all in saving me? You were given timely notice of their purpose."
"Prithee, be patient with me, gentle mistress. 'Tis true, I knew of
their intent, but they were to have returned in six months, and when
they came not at the end of the year I did truly give up all for lost;
and so I made a fresh investment of thy fortune, laying it out all in
life bonds and houses, to great worldly advantage, as thou shalt see in
good time. Ere long I may get in some rents--"
"And in the meanwhile are we to stay in this plight--to beg for
charity?" asks Moll, indignantly. "Nay, mistress. Doubtless for your
present wants this kind merchant friend--"
"We have lost all," says I, "Evans his ship, and I the lading in which
all my capital was embarked."
"And I every maravedi I possessed," adds the Don.
"And had they not," cries Moll, "were they possessed now of all they
had, think you that I with an estate, as I am told, of sixty thousand
pounds would add to the debt I owe them by one single penny!"
"If I may speak in your steward's defence, Madam," says I, humbly, "I
would point out that the richest estate is not always readily converted
into money. 'Tis like a rich jewel which the owner, though he be
starving, must hold till he find a market."
"Thee hearest him, mistress," cries Simon, in delight. "A man of
business--a merchant who knows these things. Explain it further, friend,
for thine are words of precious wisdom."
"With landed property the case is even more difficult. Tenants cannot be
forced to pay rent before it is due, nor can their messuages be sold
over their heads. And possibly all your capital is invested in land--"
"Every farthing that could be scraped together," says Simon, "and not a
rood of it but is leased to substantial men. Oh! what excellent
discourse! Proceed further, friend."
"Nevertheless," says I, "there are means of raising money upon credit.
If he live there still, there is a worthy Jew in St. Mary Axe, who upon
certain considerations of interest--"
"Hold, friend," cries Simon. "What art thee thinking of? Wouldst deliver
my simple mistress into the hands of Jew usurers?"
"Not without proper covenants made out by lawyers and attorneys."
"Lawyers, attorneys, and usurers! Heaven have mercy upon us! Verily,
thee wouldst infest us with a pest, and bleed us to death for our cure."
"I will have such relief as I may," says Moll; "so pray, sir, do send
for these lawyers and Jews at once, and the quicker, since my servant
seems more disposed to hinder than to help me."
"Forbear, mistress; for the love of God, forbear!" cries Simon, in an
agony, clasping his hands. "Be not misguided by this foolish merchant,
who hath all to gain and nought to lose by this proceeding. Give me but
a little space, and their claims shall be met, thy desires shall be
satisfied, and yet half of thy estate be saved, which else must be all
devoured betwixt these ruthless money-lenders and lawyers. I can make a
covenant more binding than any attorney, as I have proved again and
again, and" (with a gulp) "if money must be raised at once, I know an
honest, a fairly honest, goldsmith in Lombard Street who will lend at
the market rate."
"These gentlemen," answers Moll, turning to us, "may not choose to wait,
and I will not incommode them for my own convenience."
"Something for our present need we must have, Madam," says the Don, with
a significant glance at his outlandish dress; "but those wants supplied,
_I_ am content to wait."
"And you, sir?" says Moll to me.
"With a hundred or two," says I, taking Don Sanchez's hint, "we may do
very well till Michaelmas."
"Be reasonable, gentlemen," implores Simon, mopping his eyes, which ran
afresh at this demand. "'Tis but some five or six weeks to Michaelmas;
surely fifty pounds--"
"Silence!" cries Moll, with an angry tap of her foot. "Will three
hundred content you, gentlemen? Consider, the wants of our good friend,
Captain Evans, may be more pressing than yours."
"He is a good, honest, simple man, and I think we may answer for his
accepting the conditions we make for ourselves. Then, with some
reasonable guarantee for our future payment--"
"That may be contrived to our common satisfaction, I hope," says Moll,
with a gracious smile. "I owe you half my estate; share my house at
Chislehurst with me till the rest is forthcoming. That will give me yet
a little longer the pleasure of your company. And there, sir," turning
to me, "you can examine my steward's accounts for your own satisfaction,
and counsel me, mayhap, upon the conduct of my affairs, knowing so much
upon matters of business that are incomprehensible to a simple,
inexperienced maid. Then, should you find aught amiss in my steward's
books, anything to shake your confidence in his management, you will, in
justice to your friends, in kindness to me, speak your mind openly, that
instant reformation may be made."
Don Sanchez and I expressed our agreement to this proposal, and Moll,
turning to the poor, unhappy steward, says in her high tone of
authority:
"You hear how this matter is ordered, Simon. Take up that purse for your
own uses. Go into the town and send such tradesmen hither as may supply
us with proper clothing. Then to your goldsmith in Lombard Street and
bring me back six hundred pounds."
"Six--hundred--pounds!" cries he, hardly above his breath, and with a
pause between each word as if to gain strength to speak 'em.
"Six hundred. Three for these gentlemen and three for my own needs; when
that is done, hasten to Chislehurst and prepare my house; and, as you
value my favour, see that nothing is wanting when I come there."
And here, lest it should be thought that Moll could not possibly play
her part so admirably in this business, despite the many secret
instructions given by the longheaded Don, I do protest that I have set
down no more than I recollect, and that without exaggeration. Further,
it must be observed that in our common experience many things happen
which would seem incredible but for the evidence of our senses, and
which no poet would have the hardihood to represent. 'Tis true that in
this, as in other more surprising particulars to follow, Moll did
surpass all common women; but 'tis only such extraordinary persons that
furnish material for any history. And I will add that anything is
possible to one who hath the element of greatness in her composition,
and that it depends merely on the accident of circumstances whether a
Moll Dawson becomes a great saint or a great sinner--a blessing or a
curse to humanity.