Alice Bridge of Norwich — page 25: what you’re looking at

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AAdULUT DING UE INU LUT, with the westerly course of the voyage, and drove them down the Channel and toward the French coast. After a stormy night, morning dawned clearer and quieter. ‘A sail” was now observed on the horizon in the direction of the French coast, and it became an anxious matter to ascertain what.colorsshe bore. Just then, the supremacy which the English navy had shown in defeating the Spanish Armada had made the Dutch jealous, as well as the French. The Dutch lawyer Grotius put forth his work Liberwm mare as a plea for freedom of the Channel, which Selden replied to, for England, in his Mare Olausum. Arguments Jed to blows, and English vessels incurred peril of capture, specially from French cruisers. It was there- fore with real concern that the approaching vessel, in the growing light of mornipg, was made out to be a French war vessel bearing ‘down rapidly. It was resolved that their ves- ‘sel should hoist Dutch colors, and put on the appearance of an ally of France. The name of their vessel—Neptune—need not betray them. The log was cut out, and a portion of it copied afresh in Dutch. The English captain gave place to a Dutch sailor who knew no French, All was cleverly arranged as the French vessel came nearer and nearer. Soon a flash and puff was seen—a ball whizzed over their heads, damaging their sails, and hinting to them that it was necessary to obey this formidable. chal- lenge. The vessels were soon as near as they dared be in so roughasea. A boat was man- ned with difficulty, and after laboring with the waves ‘awhile, an officer, dripping with surf, climbed the side of the Neptune and called in French for the captain. George smiled on hearing the officer expressing his angry disap- pointment. ‘Dutch, after all our trouble!l—a trading fishing ally! Why, ’tis English build! —yet they look like stupid Hollanders.” Then he sulkily made his way to the cabin, looked for the ship’s books, made out her name and particulars,—all made ready for him in excel- lent Dutch. - ‘‘ Women on board!—I must see them. They may speak French, or tell me the truth,— though certainly the Dutch orouds are not very attractive!” said the gallant Frenchman. Alice and Ann soon entered, talking Dutch. The little Frenchman rose and bowed with the air of a dancing-master whose duty it was to teach all the world politeness; then, staring at their unexpected comeliness, said aloud, ‘I declare these are no Dutch women ;—why, they are charming—too charming!” Drawing nearer. to Alice, who shrank from his freedom, he asked if she did not speak French, to which she did not reply. Then turning towards Ann, who looked boldly at him, he said, ‘‘If you do not understand French, there is a language you will understand.” He proceeded to pat her under the chin, and to offer her a French salute, ‘when she as decidedly gave hima sound English pbox-on-the-ears, Forgetting herself in her dis- pleasure, Ann exclaimed, ‘‘ You French mon- key! is that the way you treat women?” while Will, coming between them, and extending his fists, cried, ‘‘Come on. then!—and let her alone.” Here was a critical position of things! The officer laughed, saying, ‘‘ English after all, as I thought!—prudes and viragos!” William and Ann drew back, and looked ashamed of their simplicity. “T pronounce this ship captured for my Government, and shall take you all into Havre port for trial. There you wil] repent your English insolence,” said the Frenchman. At this moment, Alice, regaining courage, addressed the officer in French, and owned that she and one or two others on board were En- glish refugees who had taken ship for home, and that she was bound to the sick-bed of a dear friend, on which account she prayed the gallant captain not to detain them, nor to allow the sailors to suffer for their sakes, This seemed so likely to the Frenchman, that, listen- ing to the entreaties of his men, who feared the fresh outburst of the storm, and conciliated by a cask of Hollands which was lowered into his boat, he condescended to follow, and to retire. After some hours of labor, they neared Yar- mouth, and saw the tower of old St. Nicholas church before them. They lost no time, after a night’s rest, in getting aboard a wherry in the Wensum, by which they quanted or sailed to the old-city. On the way, George and Alice sat on the upper deck chatting freely together, and watching the landscape change, and the cathedral and the castle come nearer and nearer, “Alie, when we get home, on which side | shall you stand?” said George. “Oh, George, I dread rebellion in State, and schism in Church; and once I should have been stanch to the Court. But I have learnt some- thing from exile. Ihave seen the happy libert and social honor of: Dutch republicanism. new world has opened on me which I would sooner see transferred to England than go back to the old world.” ‘“ Alie, you speak my thoughts, —how glad I am you feel so! Shall we not help to renew dear old England?” “But, George, when I think that the change involves the murderous assault of Englishmen on those of their own blood, I shudder, andam ready to leave things as they are.” “ But,” said Geo#ge, ‘‘ that we cannot do, for the other party is bent on pushing matters to extremes, They will abolish Parliaments, and all civic rule, and make the King absolute. Are we to be driven back to the state in which the Dutch were under Spain? or were it not better and holier for us to suffer, strive, and die, to prevent such a yoke for ourselves and our children?” “Yes, George. I seem to remember the stories my good father Koop used to tell me of his youth. I fear we must follow his example. oe Ag prosper the champions of liberty and truth!” ‘Hurrah, dear Alie!” said George; ‘now indeed we are agreed on that great vital ques- tion of our lifetime, without which, in such an age, mere personal preferences might prove slight ties. Now my heart is yours without re- serve.” In the large withdrawiug-room of the house in Tombland belonging to the Sherwoods sat three ladies—the lady of the house, Alice, ard May Hope. ‘‘You really think him better to-day?” said Alice. ; ‘Certainly; unless youmean to dispute my father’s skill, and set up for a better doctor as well as nurse,” rejoined May with some sharpuess,”” ‘My dear,” remarked Dame Sherwood, “your father is a very fine doctor, but what would he do without the kitchen? That warm ragout which I, made for Edward might have given an appetite even to a skeleton. No wonder he is better. And now I must go and see to his jellies and broths.” ‘He did not eat a cupful, however,” said May. “It was provoking,” rejoined the good lady as she departed, ‘‘that the Bishop should have come last night, as he will have the credit of a miracle,” “And then,” continued May, laughing, ‘to see the little Bishop, with his affected dignity and embroidered vestures! It took all the sanctity away, in my eyes.” “Yet Edward received it with comfort,” threw in Alice, who added, after a short pause, ‘‘ You must have had a terrible time here, May.” * Ah yes, Alicel—you come in when it is passing by.” “‘T came, May, because I feared not to see him again, and that I might be some comfort to you all.” “Yes; but, Alice, he did want you, and you have always been his chief adviser; when we were children he would say, ‘Go and laugh with George, but leave Alice and me.’” ‘But since then we have been apart,” said Alice. “You have written pretty frequently,” answered her friend, keenly observing her. “Very true, but we have agreed less and less,” “ Still he leans on you, Alice, and often in his weakness he has said, ‘If Alice were here!’ Then George resolved to fetch you; and you see he is better.” “‘Tam glad I came at a favorabletime. But tell me, what have been his moods and wander- ings?” ‘©O Alice, it has been a wonderful watching; he has Jain for hours motionless, and we thought he was gone. But in all hisravings his words have ever been noble, calling on God to save the King and the Church,-or repeating the offices of the Church. The devotion of his parishioners, rich and poor, is great;—daily prayer has been offered for him; the holy com- munion is brought each morning by a curate. The Bishop’s visit shows how strong a hold his work has taken on the City, He has ee not labored in vain. All his income is given in charity. No soldier could yield his life to privation and peril more boldly than Edward has done. Iam of another school, but 1 cannot help approving, where, perhaps, you may only condemn.” “Far from it, May. You will admit that I was the first to sympathize with Edward: hence, no doubt, he gave me his confidence; but you used to check his zeal.” 3 “No doubt I did while he was well, Alice; and probably should do so again if he recovered. But during this illness I have been amazed to witness the force of his religious work over all sorts of characters, I have seen him in another aspect, and been softened.” Here she paused as if overcome, when Alice came near, and wound her arm round her, while she whispered, ‘‘ He loves you, May! and you find now that you too——” “‘ Alice, stay!—it is not so;—you are the favored one. He sends for you after we have all been bending at his feet. Yet could I not advise you to indulge——his heart is for no human passion. My friend, we need fo rule ourselves,” Alice, almost unable to speak, warmly kissed her friend, and. with difficulty replied, ‘* Dearest, we need not be jealous, I thought George had told you about our betrothal. Iam nothing to Edward but his faithful sister.” - “Thanks to God, and to you,” May exclaimed with a deep sigh, ‘‘for this relief. I can say no more. I hear my father leaving—I will go with him. Excuse me for a time.” They parted with ahasty but cordial embrace, and Alice passed into the sick chamber, where she heard Dame Sherwood saying, ‘‘ Now, my bonny Ned, see!—here is some of mother’s best jelly. Look at the color!” “ Mother,” said the patient, ‘‘I feel asif the Bishop’s visit last evening had made a new man of me. There is nu cure like God's care.” ‘*Very true, my boy. I thank the blessed mep—only they ate up all I had in the house, tand they nearly ruined your father in fees. The visit will cost a hundred pounds at least,— Bishop, half; clergy, twenty pounds; and fees for clerks, choristers, wax candles, incense, holy water, and washing vessels and cloths,— all duly charged. And all that for ‘a brother clergyman,’ oo which account the chaplain said it was ‘as reasonable as possible.’ ” At this unwise recital of facts, Edward fell back on his pillow, seemingly overwhelmed, and muttered, ‘“‘O God! these are the spots on our feasts—things that make the enemy to blaspheme. They disenchant the glorious serv- ices; they are Satan’s trail on the Paradise of worship; they take away the spell which I was feeling of medicinal virtue from the hem of the Lord’s garment; they wound my very soul, so that ‘it refuseth dainty meat.’ ” “Nay, dear Ned, you will not refuse your mother’s own dishes. These shall be the spell, the medicine which shall cure you, my boy. Now take this jelly.” Be raised himself languidly, and obeyed, saying, ‘‘Mother, your love helps to cure me.” As Alice drew near, after the mother left, Edward said, ‘‘Come, Alice, tell me some of our observations in Holland. I too have earned something in the school of sickness.” So she quietly talked to him of the first Sab- bath at Rotterdam, the simple worship they found there, how doubtful they were of joining it, and of the great peace, love, and profit they had all enjoyed. Then she told her story of the Homes, and of her good friend Koop, and of Gabrielle’s coming, and their encouraging suc- cess. “You speak of singing hymns,” said Ed- ward; ‘‘ will you please me by giving some now?” Then Alice, with her sweet tone, sang some of the hymns she had been used to give to her orphans—about Jesus, and the better land. Edwafd, whose sensibilities'to music and piety were most keen, Jay back with his eyes closed and a delighted smile on his face; thanking her for lifting him above life and self. May appearing rather shy to offer her con- gratujations, unhappily said, ‘‘ The Bishop ap- peared at the right time, though his misereres and extreme unctions have proved out of place.” ‘« Ah, May, my friend, you always flout these things,” said Edward; ‘‘your cool wisdom damps my zeal;’ and a little trouble arose among them. Alice quickly rejoined, ‘“‘ All bishops are not Wrens, J am glad to say. Iam sure, Edward, he is not to your taste.” ALICE BRIDGE OF NORWICH. 49 A little further chat took place, but it was evident, with all her admiration for him, May could not conceal her repugnance to his strict ideas, nor could control her propensity to see the ridiculous side of them, which made him wince, and created a distance between them. The procession from the church with the communion was now announced; and before the clergy entered, Edward said to his friends, “You will remain and join with us?” Alice assented; but May said, ‘‘ Thank you, I must go; there isa little too much of saint- worship in it for me; though, Edward, I be- lieve you are as real a saint as any on the roll!” —and so she departed. Alice found May, when the service was over, in one of the lower rooms shedding bitter tears. ‘*Why, why could not I remain? Why must I always scoff at what he reveres? 1 went in resolved to be so good—to say nothing naughty, a it would come out. Oh, Alice, what can I 0?” Alice comforted her friend, and then went away with her to dine with her father. May had soon shaken off her: melancholy fit, and was brilliant ip her sallies. The Doctor said, as they sat down to table, “Weil, girls, have you worried my handsome clerical patient and undone all my cures? How is the youth?” “Tam astonished at his improvement, Doc tor,” replied Alice; ‘‘but you always did won- ders ” “Nonsense,” cried mirthful May. ‘‘ Father, en will get no credit from him;—his mother ays the cure to her cookery; the Bishop, to his holy prayers; his parish, to their daily visits; and Alice here slily accounts for it by her return! If I were you, 1 would send in my little bill before the glengy strip the house.” ‘* Aye,” rejoined the Doctor, ‘‘ that is a hint worth considering. Let alone the Bishop’s visit, these curates and choristers will have a pretty sum.” ‘What, from his own parish?” asked Alice. “‘T cannot imagine such a thing.” “Surely: I was at the door,” said Dr. Hope, “as they left yesterday,,and saw Skerwood’s steward pay tnem all. But see here, girls!” exclaimed the Doctor, looking at a dispatch which his man brovght in,—‘ here is a letter from Colonel George.” Mischievous May winked hard at Alice, who eagerly replied, ‘‘ Pray do, and please give us any news.” ‘News, indeed,” shouted the Doctor, flour- ishing his fork with perilous energy. ‘‘ News! —why, ‘the Scots have beaten the King, who is making peace, and returning to London to call a Parliament.’ The Colonel begs me to tell Edward and his fair nurses that he will be here soon. Aud what is this?—here, Alice, read it to yourself. §o, my girl, I give you joy;— you have possession of one of the noblest hearts in England.” Alice blushed becomingly, but was silent. CHAPTER XXXIV. CROMWELL AT HUNTINGDON. “ Your private life did a just pattern give How fathers, husbands, pious sons should live. Born to command, your princely virtues slept, Like humble David's while his flock he kept; But when your troubled country called you forth, Your flaming courage and your matchless worth, Dazzling the eyes of all that did pretend To fierce contention, gave a prosp’rous end.” WALLER. Tue Member for Huntingdon, a portly, well- proportioned man, with piercing eye and quick manner, was walking in his well-kept bowling. greep, surrounded by orchard trees in full blossom, stretching down to the gentle river Ouse, on which the summer sun shone bright. With him were two of his most favorite friends —his doctor, Simcott, who had often checked the strong mental agitations which shook even that powerful frame; and his chaplain, Dr. Wells, of St. Ives, a lecturer of eminent useful- ness. These companions were, Cromwell wrote, ‘‘Not short of any I know in England.” Cromwell had been attending to the affairs of his large- farm, his lands bringing in what would now about equal a thousand pounds a year. His paternal house wasa fine old man- sion on the outskirts of Huntingdon, His reign, and was connected with Hampden and many leading families. Living as a country squire in opulence, with a beloved wife and several children, he was at first a.man of the world, till by Dr. Wells and cthers he was led to consider religion seriously. His trouble of heart was great, but at length faith entered his anxious soul, and he became a thorough Chris- tian. This brought him into alliance with the Puritan party. His piety soon led to practical fruits; while, as Milton said, ‘‘he grew up in eace and privacy at home, silently cherishing in his heart a confidence in God, and a magnan- imity well adapted to the solemn times that were approaching.” “Doctor,” said he to Simcott, a man of ripe years and of frank, merry look, as they stood together with the polished bowls in their hands waiting for parson Wells to take his careful aim and deliver his biassed bowl in the right curve,—‘‘ you will scold me again. My night has been sore troubled, for I read about Zac. cheus before I went to rest. The Lord was pleased to remind me of the times when I used to gamble for recreation with young friends, and of two sums specially which I won—eighty pounds from Huett of St. Ives, and a hundred and twenty from the son of the Master of my college at Chartinidees Now, ought I to return these sums, the evil plunder of gambling? What say you, my good friends?” Said the Doctor with a laugh, as he rolled off his ball tgward the keer jack some yards away, ‘ ily, friend, your conscience grows very expensive and exacting. Already I know what large sums you have surrendered. Could our note collect somewhat you owe to me? ray, what supper did you eat last night? Did oe win these moneys by cheating or in fair Cromwell having won the game, as he threw the jack for a new encounter from the other side of the lawn, replied, ‘‘The play was fair enqugh for a sport that is wholly foul. I had naught for supper last even but pork chops and a good Norfolk dumpling. I can ill afford the money, yet I am ill at ease in keeping it.” “Friend and brother,” said the chaplain, whose nervous arm had just cast astroke which hit the jack and carried it away from all com- petitors, ‘‘sometimes, you see, a ball delivered right heartily and straight forward settles the question and wins the game. The voice of con- science is such a ball, and must be listened to, because it is borne out by Scripture; and we must cut off the right hand or lose the right eye rather than cloak sin. You are right, and will be easier and stronger for this straightfor- ward sacrifice. Yet be not troubled, for Christ hath answered for your sins. Perhaps your restitution may touch the conscience of others, as my bowl has hit the jack and scattered the uncle, Sir Oliver, lived a few miles off, on the Ouse, at Hinchinbrook, a princely place. Oliver Cromwell was descended from Crom- well the Chancellor in Henry the Eighth’s field.” “‘T fear not,” said Cromwell, sending his ball by a long sweep right after Wells, and cutting in between the jack and him; ‘the youths will stare, and pocket the money readily, and call me an idiot for my pains. Yet I cannot be any- thing half and half. But, see, my wife and daughters are coming this way. Let us meet them,” In the distance were seen a pretty group— a young and pleasing-looking mother, with three girls frolicking around and pulling her along. She was a perfect lady, daughter of Sir James Bouchier. The wife was not so grave a Puritan as her husband, though truly good. Her girls, Bridget, Elizabeth,