The Fortunes of Nigel Read online

  CHAPTER I

  Now Scot and English are agreed, And Saunders hastes to cross the Tweed, Where, such the splendours that attend him, His very mother scarce had kend him. His metamorphosis behold, From Glasgow frieze to cloth of gold; His back-sword, with the iron hilt, To rapier, fairly hatch'd and gilt; Was ever seen a gallant braver! His very bonnet's grown a beaver. _The Reformation._

  The long-continued hostilities which had for centuries separated thesouth and the north divisions of the Island of Britain, had been happilyterminated by the succession of the pacific James I. to the EnglishCrown. But although the united crown of England and Scotland was wornby the same individual, it required a long lapse of time, and thesuccession of more than one generation, ere the inveterate nationalprejudices which had so long existed betwixt the sister kingdoms wereremoved, and the subjects of either side of the Tweed brought to regardthose upon the opposite bank as friends and as brethren.

  These prejudices were, of course, most inveterate during the reign ofKing James. The English subjects accused him of partiality to those ofhis ancient kingdom; while the Scots, with equal injustice, chargedhim with having forgotten the land of his nativity, and with neglectingthose early friends to whose allegiance he had been so much indebted.

  The temper of the king, peaceable even to timidity, inclined himperpetually to interfere as mediator between the contending factions,whose brawls disturbed the Court. But, notwithstanding all hisprecautions, historians have recorded many instances, where the mutualhatred of two nations, who, after being enemies for a thousand years,had been so very recently united, broke forth with a fury which menaceda general convulsion; and, spreading from the highest to the lowestclasses, as it occasioned debates in council and parliament, factions inthe court, and duels among the gentry, was no less productive of riotsand brawls amongst the lower orders.

  While these heart-burnings were at the highest, there flourished in thecity of London an ingenious but whimsical and self opinioned mechanic,much devoted to abstract studies, David Ramsay by name, who, whetherrecommended by his great skill in his profession, as the courtiersalleged, or, as was murmured among the neighbours, by his birthplace, inthe good town of Dalkeith, near Edinburgh, held in James's household thepost of maker of watches and horologes to his Majesty. He scornednot, however, to keep open shop within Temple Bar, a few yards to theeastward of Saint Dunstan's Church.

  The shop of a London tradesman at that time, as it may be supposed, wassomething very different from those we now see in the same locality. Thegoods were exposed to sale in cases, only defended from the weather bya covering of canvass, and the whole resembled the stalls and booths nowerected for the temporary accommodation of dealers at a country fair,rather than the established emporium of a respectable citizen. But mostof the shopkeepers of note, and David Ramsay amongst others, had theirbooth connected with a small apartment which opened backward from it,and bore the same resemblance to the front shop that Robinson Crusoe'scavern did to the tent which he erected before it.

  To this Master Ramsay was often accustomed to retreat to the labour ofhis abstruse calculations; for he aimed at improvements and discoveriesin his own art, and sometimes pushed his researches, like Napier, andother mathematicians of the period, into abstract science. When thusengaged, he left the outer posts of his commercial establishment to bemaintained by two stout-bodied and strong-voiced apprentices, who keptup the cry of, "What d'ye lack? what d'ye lack?" accompanied with theappropriate recommendations of the articles in which they dealt.

  This direct and personal application for custom to those who chanced topass by, is now, we believe, limited to Monmouth Street, (if itstill exists even in that repository of ancient garments,) under theguardianship of the scattered remnant of Israel. But at the time weare speaking of, it was practised alike by Jew and Gentile, and served,instead of all our present newspaper puffs and advertisements, tosolicit the attention of the public in general, and of friends inparticular, to the unrivalled excellence of the goods, which theyoffered to sale upon such easy terms, that it might fairly appear thatthe venders had rather a view to the general service of the public, thanto their own particular advantage.

  The verbal proclaimers of the excellence of their commodities, had thisadvantage over those who, in the present day, use the public papers forthe same purpose, that they could in many cases adapt their address tothe peculiar appearance and apparent taste of the passengers. [This, aswe have said, was also the case in Monmouth Street in our remembrance.We have ourselves been reminded of the deficiencies of our femoralhabiliments, and exhorted upon that score to fit ourselves morebeseemingly; but this is a digression.] This direct and personal mode ofinvitation to customers became, however, a dangerous temptation to theyoung wags who were employed in the task of solicitation duringthe absence of the principal person interested in the traffic; and,confiding in their numbers and civic union, the 'prentices of Londonwere often seduced into taking liberties with the passengers, andexercising their wit at the expense of those whom they had no hopes ofconverting into customers by their eloquence. If this were resented byany act of violence, the inmates of each shop were ready to pour forthin succour; and in the words of an old song which Dr. Johnson was usedto hum,--

  "Up then rose the 'prentices all, Living in London, both proper and tall."

  Desperate riots often arose on such occasions, especially when theTemplars, or other youths connected with the aristocracy, were insulted,or conceived themselves to be so. Upon such occasions, bare steel wasfrequently opposed to the clubs of the citizens, and death sometimesensued on both sides. The tardy and inefficient police of the timehad no other resource than by the Alderman of the ward calling out thehouseholders, and putting a stop to the strife by overpowering numbers,as the Capulets and Montagues are separated upon the stage.

  At the period when such was the universal custom of the mostrespectable, as well as the most inconsiderable, shopkeepers in London,David Ramsay, on the evening to which we solicit the attention ofthe reader, retiring to more abstruse and private labours, leftthe administration of his outer shop, or booth, to the aforesaidsharp-witted, active, able-bodied, and well-voiced apprentices, namely,Jenkin Vincent and Frank Tunstall.

  Vincent had been educated at the excellent foundation of Christ's ChurchHospital, and was bred, therefore, as well as born, a Londoner, withall the acuteness, address, and audacity which belong peculiarly tothe youth of a metropolis. He was now about twenty years old, short instature, but remarkably strong made, eminent for his feats upon holidaysat foot-ball, and other gymnastic exercises; scarce rivalled inthe broad-sword play, though hitherto only exercised in the form ofsingle-stick. He knew every lane, blind alley, and sequestered court ofthe ward, better than his catechism; was alike active in his master'saffairs, and in his own adventures of fun and mischief; and so managedmatters, that the credit he acquired by the former bore him out, or atleast served for his apology, when the latter propensity led him intoscrapes, of which, however, it is but fair to state, that they hadhitherto inferred nothing mean or discreditable. Some aberrations therewere, which David Ramsay, his master, endeavoured to reduce to regularorder when he discovered them, and others which he winked at--supposingthem to answer the purpose of the escapement of a watch, which disposesof a certain quantity of the extra power of that mechanical impulsewhich puts the whole in motion.

  The physiognomy of Jin Vin--by which abbreviation he was familiarlyknown through the ward--corresponded with the sketch we have givenof his character. His head, upon which his 'prentice's flat cap wasgenerally flung in a careless and oblique fashion, was closely coveredwith thick hair of raven black, which curled naturally and closely, andwould have grown to great length, but for the modest custom enjoined byhis state in life and strictly enforced by his master, which compelledhim to keep it short-cropped,--not unreluctantly, as he looked withenvy on the flowing ringlets, in which the courtiers, and aristocraticstudents of the neighbouring Temple, began to indulge themselves, asmarks of superiority and of gentility.

  Vincent's eyes were deep set in his head, of a strong vivid black, fullof fire, roguery, and intelligence, and conveying a humorous expression,even while he was uttering the usual small-talk of his trade, as ifhe ridiculed those who were disposed to give any weight to hiscommonplaces. He had address enough, however, to add little touches ofhis own, which gave a turn of drollery even to this ordinary routine ofthe booth; and the alacrity of his manner--his ready and obvious wishto oblige--his intelligence and civility, when he thought civilitynecessary, made him a universal favourite with his master's customers.

  His features were far from regular, for his nose was flattish, his mouthtending to the larger size, and his complexion inclining to be more darkthan was then thought consistent with masculine beauty. But, in despiteof his having always breathed the air of a crowded city, his complexionhad the ruddy and manly expression of redundant health; his turned-upnose gave an air of spirit and raillery to what he said, and secondedthe laugh of his eyes; and his wide mouth was garnished with a pair ofwell-formed and well-coloured lips, which, when he laughed, disclosed arange of teeth strong and well set, and as white as the very pearl. Suchwas the elder apprentice of David Ramsay, Memory's Monitor, watchmaker,and constructor of horologes, to his Most Sacred Majesty James I.

  Jenkin's companion was the younger apprentice, though, perhaps, he mightbe the elder of the two in years. At any rate, he was of a much morestaid and composed temper. Francis Tunstall was of that ancient andproud descent who claimed the style of the "unstained;" because, amidthe various chances of the long and bloody wars of the Roses, they had,with undeviating faith, followed the House of Lancaster, to which theyhad originally attached themselves. The meanest sprig of suc
h a treeattached importance to the root from which it derived itself; andTunstall was supposed to nourish in secret a proportion of that familypride, which had exhorted tears from his widowed and almost indigentmother, when she saw herself obliged to consign him to a line oflife inferior, as her prejudices suggested, to the course held by hisprogenitors. Yet, with all this aristocratic prejudice, his master foundthe well-born youth more docile, regular, and strictly attentive tohis duty, than his far more active and alert comrade. Tunstall alsogratified his master by the particular attention which he seemeddisposed to bestow on the abstract principles of science connected withthe trade which he was bound to study, the limits of which were dailyenlarged with the increase of mathematical science.

  Vincent beat his companion beyond the distance-post, in every thing likethe practical adaptation of thorough practice, in the dexterity ofhand necessary to execute the mechanical branches of the art, anddoubled-distanced him in all respecting the commercial affairs of theshop. Still David Ramsay was wont to say, that if Vincent knew how to doa thing the better of the two, Tunstall was much better acquainted withthe principles on which it ought to be done; and he sometimes objectedto the latter, that he knew critical excellence too well ever to besatisfied with practical mediocrity.

  The disposition of Tunstall was shy, as well as studious; and, thoughperfectly civil and obliging, he never seemed to feel himself in hisplace while he went through the duties of the shop. He was talland handsome, with fair hair, and well-formed limbs, good features,well-opened light-blue eyes, a straight Grecian nose, and a countenancewhich expressed both good-humour and intelligence, but qualified by agravity unsuitable to his years, and which almost amounted to dejection.He lived on the best of terms with his companion, and readily stood byhim whenever he was engaged in any of the frequent skirmishes, which, aswe have already observed, often disturbed the city of London about thisperiod. But though Tunstall was allowed to understand quarter-staff (theweapon of the North country) in a superior degree, and though he wasnaturally both strong and active, his interference in such affraysseemed always matter of necessity; and, as he never voluntarily joinedeither their brawls or their sports, he held a far lower place in theopinion of the youth of the ward than his hearty and active friend JinVin. Nay, had it not been for the interest made for his comrade, by theintercession of Vincent, Tunstall would have stood some chance of beingaltogether excluded from the society of his contemporaries of the samecondition, who called him, in scorn, the Cavaliero Cuddy, and the GentleTunstall.

  On the other hand, the lad himself, deprived of the fresh air in whichhe had been brought up, and foregoing the exercise to which he hadformerly been accustomed, while the inhabitant of his native mansion,lost gradually the freshness of his complexion, and, without showing anyformal symptoms of disease, grew more thin and pale as he grew older,and at length exhibited the appearance of indifferent health, withoutany thing of the habits and complaints of an invalid, excepting adisposition to avoid society, and to spend his leisure time in privatestudy, rather than mingle in the sports of his companions, or evenresort to the theatres, then the general rendezvous of his class; where,according to high authority, they fought for half-bitten apples, crackednuts, and filled the upper gallery with their clamours.

  Such were the two youths who called David Ramsay master; and with bothof whom he used to fret from morning till night, as their peculiaritiesinterfered with his own, or with the quiet and beneficial course of histraffic.

  Upon the whole, however, the youths were attached to their master, andhe, a good-natured, though an absent and whimsical man, was scarceless so to them; and when a little warmed with wine at an occasionaljunketing, he used to boast, in his northern dialect, of his "twa bonnielads, and the looks that the court ladies threw at them, when visitinghis shop in their caroches, when on a frolic into the city." But DavidRamsay never failed, at the same time, to draw up his own tall,thin, lathy skeleton, extend his lean jaws into an alarming grin, andindicate, by a nod of his yard-long visage, and a twinkle of his littlegrey eye, that there might be more faces in Fleet Street worth lookingat than those of Frank and Jenkin. His old neighbour, Widow Simmons, thesempstress, who had served, in her day, the very tip-top revellers ofthe Temple, with ruffs, cuffs, and bands, distinguished more deeplythe sort of attention paid by the females of quality, who so regularlyvisited David Ramsay's shop, to its inmates. "The boy Frank," sheadmitted, "used to attract the attention of the young ladies, as havingsomething gentle and downcast in his looks; but then he could not betterhimself, for the poor youth had not a word to throw at a dog. Now JinVin was so full of his jibes and jeers, and so willing, and so ready,and so serviceable, and so mannerly all the while, with a step thatsprung like a buck's in Epping Forest, and his eye that twinkled asblack as a gipsy's, that no woman who knew the world would make acomparison betwixt the lads. As for poor neighbour Ramsay himself, theman," she said, "was a civil neighbour, and a learned man, doubtless,and might be a rich man if he had common sense to back his learning; anddoubtless, for a Scot, neighbour Ramsay was nothing of a bad man, buthe was so constantly grimed with smoke, gilded with brass filings,and smeared with lamp-black and oil, that Dame Simmons judged it wouldrequire his whole shopful of watches to induce any feasible woman totouch the said neighbour Ramsay with any thing save a pair of tongs."

  A still higher authority, Dame Ursula, wife to Benjamin Suddlechop, thebarber, was of exactly the same opinion.

  Such were, in natural qualities and public estimation, the two youths,who, in a fine April day, having first rendered their dutiful serviceand attendance on the table of their master and his daughter, at theirdinner at one o'clock,--Such, O ye lads of London, was the severediscipline undergone by your predecessors!--and having regaledthemselves upon the fragments, in company with two female domestics, onea cook, and maid of all work, the other called Mistress Margaret's maid,now relieved their master in the duty of the outward shop; and agreeablyto the established custom, were soliciting, by their entreaties andrecommendations of their master's manufacture, the attention andencouragement of the passengers.

  In this species of service it may be easily supposed that Jenkin Vincentleft his more reserved and bashful comrade far in the background. Thelatter could only articulate with difficulty, and as an act of dutywhich he was rather ashamed of discharging, the established wordsof form--"What d'ye lack?--What d'ye lack?--Clocks--watches--barnacles?--What d'ye lack?--Watches--clocks--barnacles?--What d'ye lack, sir? Whatd'ye lack, madam?--Barnacles--watches--clocks?"

  But this dull and dry iteration, however varied by diversity of verbalarrangement, sounded flat when mingled with the rich and recommendatoryoratory of the bold-faced, deep-mouthed, and ready-witted JenkinVincent.--"What d'ye lack, noble sir?--What d'ye lack, beauteous madam?"he said, in a tone at once bold and soothing, which often was so appliedas both to gratify the persons addressed, and to excite a smile fromother hearers.--"God bless your reverence," to a beneficed clergyman;"the Greek and Hebrew have harmed your reverence's eyes--Buy a pair ofDavid Ramsay's barnacles. The King--God bless his Sacred Majesty!--neverreads Hebrew or Greek without them."

  "Are you well avised of that?" said a fat parson from the Vale ofEvesham. "Nay, if the Head of the Church wears them,--God bless hisSacred Majesty!--I will try what they can do for me; for I have notbeen able to distinguish one Hebrew letter from another, since--I cannotremember the time--when I had a bad fever. Choose me a pair of hismost Sacred Majesty's own wearing, my good youth."

  "This is a pair, and please your reverence," said Jenkin, producing apair of spectacles which he touched with an air of great deference andrespect, "which his most blessed Majesty placed this day three weeks onhis own blessed nose; and would have kept them for his own sacred use,but that the setting being, as your reverence sees, of the purest jet,was, as his Sacred Majesty was pleased to say, fitter for a bishop thanfor a secular prince."

  "His Sacred Majesty the King," said the worthy divine, "was ever a veryDaniel in his judgment. Give me the barnacles, my good youth, and whocan say what nose they may bestride in two years hence?--our reverendbrother of Gloucester waxes in years." He then pulled out his purse,paid for the spectacles, and left the shop with even a more importantstep than that which had paused to enter it.

  "For shame," said Tunstall to his companion; "these glasses will neversuit one of his years."

  "You are a fool, Frank," said Vincent, in reply; "had the good doctorwished glasses to read with, he would have tried them before buying.He does not want to look through them himself, and these will servethe purpose of being looked at by other folks, as well as the bestmagnifiers in the shop.--What d'ye lack?" he cried, resuming hissolicitations. "Mirrors for your toilette, my pretty madam; yourhead-gear is something awry--pity, since it is so well fancied." Thewoman stopped and bought a mirror.--"What d'ye lack?--a watch, MasterSergeant--a watch that will go as long as a lawsuit, as steady and trueas your own eloquence?"

  "Hold your peace, sir," answered the Knight of the Coif, who wasdisturbed by Vin's address whilst in deep consultation with an eminentattorney; "hold your peace! You are the loudest-tongued varlet betwixtthe Devil's Tavern and Guildhall."

  "A watch," reiterated the undaunted Jenkin, "that shall not losethirteen minutes in a thirteen years' lawsuit.--He's out of hearing--Awatch with four wheels and a bar-movement--a watch that shall tell you,Master Poet, how long the patience of the audience will endure your nextpiece at the Black Bull." The bard laughed, and fumbled in the pocket ofhis slops till he chased into a corner, and fairly caught, a small pieceof coin.

  "Here is a tester to cherish thy wit, good boy," he said.

  "Gramercy," said Vin; "at the next play of yours I will bring down aset of roaring boys, that shall make all the critics in the
pit, and thegallants on the stage, civil, or else the curtain shall smoke for it."

  "Now, that I call mean," said Tunstall, "to take the poor rhymer'smoney, who has so little left behind."

  "You are an owl, once again," said Vincent; "if he has nothing left tobuy cheese and radishes, he will only dine a day the sooner with somepatron or some player, for that is his fate five days out of the seven.It is unnatural that a poet should pay for his own pot of beer; I willdrink his tester for him, to save him from such shame; and when histhird night comes round, he shall have penniworths for his coin, Ipromise you.--But here comes another-guess customer. Look at thatstrange fellow--see how he gapes at every shop, as if he would swallowthe wares.--O! Saint Dunstan has caught his eye; pray God he swallow notthe images. See how he stands astonished, as old Adam and Eve plytheir ding-dong! Come, Frank, thou art a scholar; construe me that samefellow, with his blue cap with a cock's feather in it, to show he's ofgentle blood, God wot--his grey eyes, his yellow hair, his sword with aton of iron in the handle--his grey thread-bare cloak--his step like aFrenchman--his look like a Spaniard--a book at his girdle, and a broaddudgeon-dagger on the other side, to show him half-pedant, half-bully.How call you that pageant, Frank?"

  "A raw Scotsman," said Tunstall; "just come up, I suppose, to help therest of his countrymen to gnaw old England's bones; a palmerworm, Ireckon, to devour what the locust has spared."

  "Even so, Frank," answered Vincent; "just as the poet sings sweetly,--

  'In Scotland he was born and bred, And, though a beggar, must be fed.'"

  "Hush!" said Tunstall, "remember our master."

  "Pshaw!" answered his mercurial companion; "he knows on which sidehis bread is buttered, and I warrant you has not lived so long amongEnglishmen, and by Englishmen, to quarrel with us for bearing an Englishmind. But see, our Scot has done gazing at St. Dunstan's, and comes ourway. By this light, a proper lad and a sturdy, in spite of freckles andsun-burning.--He comes nearer still, I will have at him."

  "And, if you do," said his comrade, "you may get a broken head--he looksnot as if he would carry coals."

  "A fig for your threat," said Vincent, and instantly addressed thestranger. "Buy a watch, most noble northern Thane--buy a watch, to countthe hours of plenty since the blessed moment you left Berwick behindyou.--Buy barnacles, to see the English gold lies ready for yourgripe.--Buy what you will, you shall have credit for three days; for,were your pockets as bare as Father Fergus's, you are a Scot in London,and you will be stocked in that time." The stranger looked sternlyat the waggish apprentice, and seemed to grasp his cudgel in rather amenacing fashion. "Buy physic," said the undaunted Vincent, "if you willbuy neither time nor light--physic for a proud stomach, sir;--there is a'pothecary's shop on the other side of the way."

  Here the probationary disciple of Galen, who stood at his master's doorin his flat cap and canvass sleeves, with a large wooden pestle in hishand, took up the ball which was flung to him by Jenkin, with, "Whatd'ye lack, sir?--Buy a choice Caledonian salve, _Flos sulphvr. cumbutyro quant. suff._"

  "To be taken after a gentle rubbing-down with an English oaken towel,"said Vincent.

  The bonny Scot had given full scope to the play of this small artilleryof city wit, by halting his stately pace, and viewing grimly, first theone assailant, and then the other, as if menacing either repartee ormore violent revenge. But phlegm or prudence got the better of hisindignation, and tossing his head as one who valued not the raillery towhich he had been exposed, he walked down Fleet Street, pursued by thehorse-laugh of his tormentors.

  "The Scot will not fight till he see his own blood," said Tunstall, whomhis north of England extraction had made familiar with all manner ofproverbs against those who lay yet farther north than himself.

  "Faith, I know not," said Jenkin; "he looks dangerous, thatfellow--he will hit some one over the noddle before he goesfar.--Hark!--hark!--they are rising."

  Accordingly, the well-known cry of,"'Prentices--'prentices--Clubs--clubs!" now rang along Fleet Street; andJenkin, snatching up his weapon, which lay beneath the counter readyat the slightest notice, and calling to Tunstall to take his bat andfollow, leaped over the hatch-door which protected the outer-shop, andran as fast as he could towards the affray, echoing the cry as he ran,and elbowing, or shoving aside, whoever stood in his way. His comrade,first calling to his master to give an eye to the shop, followedJenkin's example, and ran after him as fast as he could, but with moreattention to the safety and convenience of others; while old DavidRamsay, with hands and eyes uplifted, a green apron before him, and aglass which he had been polishing thrust into his bosom, came forthto look after the safety of his goods and chattels, knowing, by oldexperience, that, when the cry of "Clubs" once arose, he would havelittle aid on the part of his apprentices.