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It is a good gothic thriller. Sir Giles Mompesson is a gloomy and all-powerful villain who sows destruction and suffering with the help of the Star Chamber court, it seems, just like that.
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Liczba stron: 679
Contents
BOOK I
CHAPTER I. The Three Cranes in the Vintry
CHAPTER II. Sir Giles Mompesson and His Partner
CHAPTER III. The French Ordinary
CHAPTER IV. A Star-Chamber Victim
CHAPTER V. Jocelyn Mounchensey
CHAPTER VI. Provocation
CHAPTER VII. How Lord Roos obtained Sir Francis Mitchell’s signature
CHAPTER VIII. Of Lupo Vulp, Captain Bludder, Clement Lanyere, and Sir Giles’s other Myrmidons
CHAPTER IX. The Letters-Patent
CHAPTER X. The ‘Prentices and Their Leader
CHAPTER XI. John Wolfe
CHAPTER XII. The Arrest and the Rescue
CHAPTER XIII. How Jocelyn Mounchensey encountered a masked horseman on Stamford Hill
CHAPTER XIV. The May-Queen and the Puritan’s Daughter
CHAPTER XV. Hugh Calveley
CHAPTER XVI. Of the Sign Given by the Puritan to the Assemblage
CHAPTER XVII. A Rash Promise
CHAPTER XVIII. How the promise was cancelled
CHAPTER XIX. Theobalds’ Palace
CHAPTER XX. King James the First
CHAPTER XXI. Consequences of the Puritan’s Warning
CHAPTER XXII. Wife and Mother-in-Law
CHAPTER XXIII. The Tress of Hair
CHAPTER XXIV. The Fountain Court
CHAPTER XXV. Sir Thomas Lake
CHAPTER XXVI. The Forged Confession
CHAPTER XXVII. The Puritan’s Prison
CHAPTER XXVIII. The Secret
CHAPTER XXIX. Luke Hatton
BOOK II
CHAPTER I. Poison
CHAPTER II. Counter-Poison
CHAPTER III. Showing that “our pleasant vices are made the whips to scourge us.”
CHAPTER IV. How the forged Confession was produced
CHAPTER V. A Visit to Sir Giles Mompesson’s Habitation Near the Fleet
CHAPTER VI. Of the Wager between the Conde de Gondomar and the Marquis of Buckingham
CHAPTER VII. A Cloud in the Horizon
CHAPTER VIII. Whitehall
CHAPTER IX. Prince Charles
CHAPTER X. The Old Palace-Yard of Westminster
CHAPTER XI. The Tilt-Yard
CHAPTER XII. The Tilting Match
CHAPTER XIII. The Felon Knight
CHAPTER XIV. The Private Cabinet of Sir Giles Mompesson
CHAPTER XV. Clement Lanyere’s Story
CHAPTER XVI. Sir Jocelyn’s Rupture with de Gondomar
CHAPTER XVII. Disgrace
CHAPTER XVIII. How Sir Jocelyn’s cause was espoused by the ‘prentices
CHAPTER XIX. A Noble Revenge
CHAPTER XX. A Place of Refuge
CHAPTER XXI. The Arrest
CHAPTER XXII. The Old Fleet Prison
CHAPTER XXIII. How Sir Jocelyn was brought to the Fleet
CHAPTER XXV. The “Stone Coffin.”
CHAPTER XXVI. A Secret Friend
CHAPTER XXVII. Showing how judgment was given by King James in the Star Chamber, in the great cause of the Countess of Exeter against Sir Thomas and Lady Lake
CHAPTER XXVIII. The Two Warrants
CHAPTER XXIX The Silver Coffer
CHAPTER XXX. How the Marriage was interrupted
CHAPTER XXXI. Accusations
CHAPTER XXXII. Judgment
CHAPTER XXXIII. Retribution
BOOK I
CHAPTER I. The Three Cranes in the Vintry.
Adjoining the Vintry Wharf, and at the corner of a narrow lane communicating with Thames Street, there stood, in the early part of the Seventeenth Century, a tavern called the Three Cranes. This old and renowned place of entertainment had then been in existence more than two hundred years, though under other designations. In the reign of Richard II., when it was first established, it was styled the Painted Tavern, from the circumstance of its outer walls being fancifully coloured and adorned with Bacchanalian devices. But these decorations went out of fashion in time, and the tavern, somewhat changing its external features, though preserving all its internal comforts and accommodation, assumed the name of the Three Crowns, under which title it continued until the accession of Elizabeth, when it became (by a slight modification) the Three Cranes; and so remained in the days of her successor, and, indeed, long afterwards.
Not that the last-adopted denomination had any reference, as might be supposed, to the three huge wooden instruments on the wharf, employed with ropes and pulleys to unload the lighters and other vessels that brought up butts and hogsheads of wine from the larger craft below Bridge, and constantly thronged the banks; though, no doubt, they indirectly suggested it. The Three Cranes depicted on the large signboard, suspended in front of the tavern, were long-necked, long-beaked birds, each with a golden fish in its bill.
But under whatever designation it might be known–Crown or Crane–the tavern had always maintained a high reputation for excellence of wine: and this is the less surprising when we take into account its close proximity to the vast vaults and cellars of the Vintry, where the choicest produce of Gascony, Bordeaux, and other wine-growing districts, was deposited; some of which we may reasonably conclude would find its way to its tables. Good wine, it may be incidentally remarked, was cheap enough when the Three Cranes was first opened, the delicate juice of the Gascoign grape being then vended, at fourpence the gallon, and Rhenish at sixpence! Prices, however, had risen considerably at the period of which we propose to treat; but the tavern was as well-reputed and well-frequented as ever: even more so, for it had considerably advanced in estimation since it came into the hands of a certain enterprising French skipper, Prosper Bonaventure by name, who intrusted its management to his active and pretty little wife Dameris, while he himself prosecuted his trading voyages between the Garonne and the Thames. And very well Madame Bonaventure fulfilled the duties of hostess, as will be seen.
Now, as the skipper was a very sharp fellow, and perfectly understood his business-practically anticipating the Transatlantic axiom of buying at the cheapest market and gelling at the dearest-he soon contrived to grow rich. He did more: he pleased his customers at the Three Cranes. Taking care to select his wines judiciously, and having good opportunities, he managed to obtain possession of some delicious vintages, which, could not be matched elsewhere; and, with this nectar at his command, the fortune of his house was made. All the town gallants flocked to the Three Cranes to dine at the admirable French ordinary newly established there, and crush a flask or so of the exquisite Bordeaux, about which, and its delicate flavour and bouquet, all the connoisseurs in claret were raving. From, mid-day, therefore, till late in the afternoon, there were nearly as many gay barges and wherries as lighters lying off the Vintry Wharf; and sometimes, when accommodation was wanting, the little craft were moored along the shore all the way from Queenhithe to the Steelyard; at which latter place the Catherine Wheel was almost as much noted for racy Rhenish and high-dried neat’s tongues, as our tavern was for fine Bordeaux and well-seasoned pâtés.
Not the least, however, of the attractions of the Three Cranes, was the hostess herself. A lively little brunette was Madame Bonaventure, still young, or, at all events, very far from being old; with extremely fine teeth, which she was fond of displaying, and a remarkably neat ancle, which she felt no inclination to hide beneath the sweep of her round circling farthingale. Her figure was quite that of a miniature Venus; and as, like most of her country-women, she understood the art of dress to admiration, she set off her person to the best advantage; always attiring herself in a style, and in colours, that suited her, and never indulging in an unwarrantable extravagance of ruff, or absurd and unbecoming length of peaked boddice. As to the stuffs she wore, they were certainly above her station, for no Court dame could boast of richer silks than those in which the pretty Dameris appeared on fête days; and this was accounted for by reason that the good skipper seldom returned from a trip to France without bringing his wife a piece of silk, brocade, or velvet from Lyons; or some little matter from Paris, such as a ruff, cuff, partlet, bandlet, or fillet. Thus the last French mode might be seen at the Three Crowns, displayed by the hostess, as well as the last French entremetat its table; since, among other important accessories to the well-doing of the house, Madame Bonaventure kept a chef de cuisine–one of her compatriots–of such superlative skill, that in later times he must infallibly have been distinguished as a cordon bleu.
But not having yet completed our description of the charming Bordelaise we must add that she possessed a rich southern complexion, fine sparkling black eyes, shaded by long dark eye-lashes, and over-arched by jetty brows, and that her raven hair was combed back and gathered in a large roll over her smooth forehead, which had the five points of beauty complete. Over this she wore a prettily-conceived coif, with a frontlet. A well-starched, well-plaited ruff encompossed her throat. Her upper lip was darkened, but in the slightest degree, by down like the softest silk; and this peculiarity (a peculiarity it would be in an Englishwoman, though frequently observable in the beauties of the South of France) lent additional piquancy and zest to her charms in the eyes of her numerous adorers. Her ankles we have said were trim; and it may be added that they were oftener displayed in an embroidered French velvet shoe than in one of Spanish leather; while in walking out she increased her stature “by the altitude of a chopine.”
Captain Bonaventure was by no means jealous; and even if he had been, it would have mattered little, since he was so constantly away. Fancying, therefore, she had some of the privileges of a widow, our lively Dameris flirted a good deal with the gayest and handsomest of the galliards frequenting her house. But she knew where to stop; no licence or indecorum was ever permitted at the Three Cranes; and that is saying a great deal in favour of the hostess, when the dissolute character of the age is taken into consideration. Besides this, Cyprien, a stout well-favoured young Gascon, who filled the posts of drawer and chamberlain, together with two or three other trencher-scrapers, who served at table, and waited on the guests, were generally sufficient to clear the house of any troublesome roysterers. Thus the reputation of the Three Cranes was unblemished, in spite of the liveliness and coquetry of its mistress; and in spite, also, of the malicious tongues of rival tavern-keepers, which were loud against it. A pretty woman is sure to have enemies and calumniators, and Madame Bonaventure had more than enow; but she thought very little about them.
There was one point, however, on which it behoved her to be careful: and extremely careful she was,–not leaving a single loop-hole for censure or attack. This was the question of religion. On first taking the house, Madame Bonaventure gave it out that she and the skipper were Huguenots, descended from families who had suffered much persecution during the time of the League, for staunch adherence to their faith; and the statement was generally credited, though there were some who professed to doubt it. Certain it was, our hostess did not wear any cross, beads, or other outward symbol of Papacy. And though this might count for little, it was never discovered that she attended mass in secret. Her movements were watched, but without anything coming to light that had reference to religious observances of any kind. Those who tried to trace her, found that her visits were mostly paid to Paris Garden, the Rose, and the Globe (where our immortal bard’s plays were then being performed), or some other place of amusement; and if she did go on the river at times, it was merely upon a party of pleasure, accompanied by gay gallants in velvet cloaks and silken doublets, and by light-hearted dames like herself, and not by notorious plotters or sour priests. Still, as many Bordeaux merchants frequented the house, as well as traders from the Hanse towns, and other foreigners, it was looked upon by the suspicious as a hotbed of Romish heresy and treason. Moreover, these maligners affirmed that English recusants, as well as seminary priests from abroad, had been harboured there, and clandestinely spirited away from the pursuit of justice by the skipper; but the charges were never substantiated, and could, therefore, only proceed from envy and malice. Whatever Madame Bonaventure’s religious opinions might be, she kept her own council so well that no one ever found them out.
But evil days were at hand. Hitherto, all had been smiling and prosperous. The prospect now began to darken.
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