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after borrowing nine shillings and sixpence on "my Bezoar stone," and going to the Temple to receive "my pension," Richard starts on the 1st of September, 1696, by hoy for Sandwich. The voyage is long and tedious, the weather being bad, but after a day and a night at sea they drop anchor, and Richard solaces himself with punch and good fellowship at the Three Kings at Sandwich
the taverns in Fleet Street, probably under | paid (or not paid) 35s. to Rolfe, the barthe ward of a keeper. Brother Francis ber. But Benson pawns his linen for is appealed to daily by letter, and pending Ios., and brother Francis sends funds, so his reply all the old boon companions come in and out of the prison, dine there, drink there, and get drunk in the vaults, Benson and Catherine Wilson coming every day with clothes, books, and comfort. At the end of the month of May the parson brother, Francis, arrives, and after a month of negotiation at the Custom House and the law courts, and much drinking and dining as usual, a bond is signed and sealed at the Three Tuns tavern, "Sales standing my friend," and Richard Bere is free again.
But imprudent Richard, after a sharp fit of the gout, soon falls into his old habits again, and on the 6th of September confesses that he got into a row at the Dog tavern in Drury Lane" about drinking the Prince of Wales's health," an indiscreet thing enough considering that his Custom House accounts were still unsettled, and his own petition to the Treasury unanswered. On the 1st of July, whilst he and his friend Sales are dining at the Crown, the constables walk Sales off to prison, "and then go to the Globe tavern and arrest his landlady, and Andrew Lloyd the author." And so the diary goes on; his accounts still unpaid, but Richard full of the tobacco business, with petitions to the king and interviews with Treasury officials. Then there is some great Irish wool scheme, which necessitates much dancing attendance on the Duke of Ormond, but does not seem to result in much. His boon companions evidently do not think much of his chance of recovering anything from the Treasury, for "they made me promise B. Skynner a new wig if ever I received my £74 4s. on the king's order."
On his arrival at Danes Court "John gives me a bad account of my nephew Richard, who went back to school to-day." But John certainly does not set his son a good example, for he soon breaks out himself, and on the 21st of October, "after dining with my aunt," threatens to cut his wife's throat. For months after this the diary constantly records that "John came home raving drunk;""John from Sandwich to-day, very violent;" "John mad drunk all day;" "To Tilmanston church twice, John there raving drunk," and so on. On Christmas day, 1696, Richard, who as befits a parson's son, is all through an indefatigable church-goer, takes the sacrament at Tilmanston church, as he generally does on special days, John through all the Christmastide remaining drunk as usual. On the 18th of January, 1697, he gives his wife a black eye, and the next day it is Richard's turn, and he goes on a great drinking bout with Captain Whiston, and "got drunk and lost my white mare," whereupon the immaculate "John is very angry with me." On the 10th of February nephew Richard runs away from school again, and gets soundly whipped by his father, who remains drunk all the month. On the 15th of March uidings come to Danes Court that the master However much Richard may drink, he has been lodged in Dover jail, and his wife is frugal enough in his eating, for from and her brother start off next morning to this period to the end of the diary he con- find him. He has escaped somehow, and stantly records that for days together he gets back to Danes Court mad drunk just has eaten nothing but a little bread and as his household are returning from aftercheese, and the "one poor halfpennyworth noon service at Tilmanston church. This of bread to all this intolerable amount of goes on all March, and on the 26th John sack," is as applicable to Richard Bere as borrows money from an attorney, named it was to the fat knight. And he needs to Lynch, and seals a bond at Danes Court be sparing in his expenditure, for he is conveying all his goods to the lender as poor enough just now, notwithstanding his security, "being rabid drunk at the time." drinkings with the Duke of Richmond's A few days afterwards "the bailiffs nearly steward, with Stourton at the Rose in Pall took John, but he escaped by the quickMall, and his visits to Lord James Howardness of his mare." Echoes of more im. in Oxenden Street, for he is reduced to pawning his new lace ruffles for six shillings, and Benson could borrow nothing on his new wig, for which he had just VOL. LXXVII. 3956
portant events occasionally reach Danes Court. On the 6th of April, 1692, news comes that the French have taken Jamaica, and that they have captured a merchant
fleet and convoys off Bilbao. Soon after consecration of St. Paul's, and on the
we hear of "French pirates infesting the Downs, and they had taken two of our ships," but the domestic troubles of the old Kentish manor house occupy most of the diary at this period; incorrigible young Richard runs away from school again and cannot be found for days; with some difficulty drunken John's accounts with Hill and Dilnot, of Sandwich, are arranged, but on the 24th of April he is lodged in jail at Canterbury on another suit, and is only released by more borrow ing from Lynch, and at once goes back to his drunken career again. An entry on the 29th of April, 1697, gives another inkling of Richard's Jacobite leanings. "Walking to Eythorne I met Petitt the parson and Captain March. We drank together and went to Walker's, where a Mr. Kelly defended the bad opinion that it was lawful for people to rise against the king if he violated his coronation oath."
15th of February, 1698, he attends his first service in the Cathedral, "from thence to the Temple Church, and so to the Trumpet, where I supped on black puddings and cheese. Home at eight, when my landlady besought me to pay the rent." On the 18th of April he sees Prince George, and on the 16th of May visits the ship Providence from New England, and thence to the Dolphin tavern until three in the morning. On the 9th of June, apparently fired by the example of some of the wits he meets in the coffee houses of Covent Garden, or in his favorite promenade at Gray's Inn Gardens, he records the fact that he wrote some satirical verses. The next day a fine new suit of clothes comes home, and he dons them with great pride. But alas! a sad thing happens. Drinking at the Sun with his friends, some of the latter" threw some beer over my fine garments," much to Richard's disgust. The quaint little gallowses on the margin are pretty frequent
All through May John continued drunk, and one day falling foul of his brother-in-now, and the names of the wretches who law, calls him a scurvy knave, and threatens to kick him out of his house. So Richard, having worn out his welcome at Danes Court, starts for town again, taking with him nephew Dick, who has just run away from school once more for the last time.
are hanged are often given. On the 29th of June, 1698, Richard visits the Duke of Norfolk at St. James's House with his friends Stourton and Orfeur. "Thence to St. James's Park, to see a race between two youths, where I met Churchill."
Richard becomes certainly more respectable as he gets older, and beyond a slight flirtation with his landlady, Mrs. Stokes, of Short's Gardens, we hear little of his gallantries henceforward. He is certainly more prosperous, too, in some mysterious way, owing to a voyage he makes, apparently in an official capacity, from Gosport to Flanders, for which a sum of ninety-five guineas is handed to him. He says nothing of his adventures
He lodges henceforward at Stokes's in Short's Gardens, and pays ten shillings a month for his room. Every morning two or three taverns are visited with Stourton, Churchill, and others, where unfortunately they are sometimes imprudent enough to drink deep to the health of King James. Metheglin and mum are occasional drinks, but brandy the most usual, and black puddings seem a favorite dish for dinner. On the 19th of October,|in Flanders, where, however, he only lands 1697, peace is proclaimed with France, at Ostend for a few days from his ship the and on the 16th of the following month the Good Hope. The voyage, however, is king enters the city in state, and on the evidently an important one for him, as he 2nd of December the peace rejoicings has spoken of it on and off for many were crowned by a great display of fire- months, and takes a special journey to works, and a banquet given by the Earl of Cambridge to see brother Francis before Romney to the king. Richard's petition setting out. On the 19th of October, after five years' waiting is favorably re- 1698, he anchors in Dover Roads on his ported upon by the commissioners of return, and goes thence to Danes Court, customs, and during all the winter he where he stays over Christmas, and rehaunts Whitehall and the ante-room of turns to London in January, 1699. His Lord Coningsby to get the recommenda- friend Churchill has now taken the Treastion carried out by the Treasury. But ury matter in hand, and after many one obstacle after the other is raised, the months of hope deferred Richard Bere papers are sent backwards and forwards, gets his £74 4s. at last in October. But and it is fully two years longer before Churchill wanted paying, and on the morRichard at last receives his money. On row of the payment "Churchill came to the 2nd of December, 1697, he records theme drunk, and quarrelled with me because
I would not give him the money he want- | Fogge is still usually drunk; and in Oced." I suspect the money was all spent tober of that year a most important thing long ago, for Richard has often enough happens to Richard Bere. On the 23rd gone into the city to borrow five or ten of that month he visits the aged Lady Mopounds "on the king's order." He is very nins at Waldershare, the next mansion to methodical about money matters, too, for Danes Court. His sister, Mrs. Fogge, is all his apparent improvidence. He has a with him; and staying with Lady Monins boon companion named Henry Johnson, is a certain Lucy Boys, presumably a who during the autumn and winter of daughter of Captain Boys, the constable of 1699 drank mainly at his expense. Every Walmer Castle. After dinner, Richard, penny thus spent is noted against the who was then forty-nine years of age, date in the diary, and a neat account of whispered soft words of love to this young the whole, headed "Expenditure on ac- lady, and the next day he records the fact count of Henry Johnson," is bound up that he sent her a tender love-letter. The with the diary. From this it appears that maiden, nothing loath, sends him an anJohnson consumed over seven pounds swer next day, and a few days afterwards worth of brandy at various taverns with comes herself to visit Mrs. Fogge at Danes Richard in about five months. On the Court. Of course, Richard improves the 27th of January, 1700, Richard visits the occasion, and, as he says, "makes love Duke of Norfolk; but it is rather a falling again." For the next week a lively interoff to be told that he goes straight from change of notes takes place between Danes the duke's to eat black puddings at Smith's. Court and Waldershare; and on the 8th In July of the same year he goes to see a of November Lucy Boys thinks it time to witch called Anna Wilkes, a prisoner in go home to Walmer Castle. It is not the Marshalsea, and the same day he quite in the direct road, but she called to learns in the Tilt Yard that his boon say good-bye to Mrs. Fogge at Danes companion Stourton is made deputy gov- Court, and, of course, Mr. Richard Bere ernor of Windsor. On the 30th of July thought well to go in the coach with her the young Duke of Gloucester dies, and to Walmer. "We pledged," he says, "to one day next week Richard, after drinking marry each other, and solemnly promised punch with Mr. Van Dyk, tries to see the to marry no one else." On the 16th of body of the young prince at the lying in December he again goes to Waldershare, state, but fails. His brother Francis is in and they again renew their pledge, and town about the first fruits and fees of his Lady Monins promised all her influence new fat living, and Richard is his surety with her grandson-in-law, the great Earl for £48 Is. 8d. to the king, and when Poulet, to forward Richard's fortunes. Francis has got comfortably settled in his Early in January, 1703, Richard speeds to new rectory in July, 1701, Richard takes London with a letter from Lucy Boys to the ship Providence for Liverpool to visit Lord Poulet in his pocket. The peer welhim. They take a fortnight to get there; comes him warmly, promises him great and when he arrives a gentleman comes things at the Treasury and elsewhere, and on board and announces that brother Fran- loving letters still speed backward and cis has married his (the gentleman's) sis- forward between London and Walmer. ter, whereupon Richard is much surprised, Richard is constant at Lord Poulet's levées, and promptly borrows some money from and at last, on the 25th of March, 1703, his new connection. There are great high Richard is introduced to the all-powerful jinks at Prescot, and Richard is in his Lord Godolphin, who promises him a good element. He dines and carouses with office, upon the strength of which he "boreverybody, from his brother's glebe-ten- rows another £5 of Gawler." But Richants to the Earl of Derby at Knowsley, ard complains of lameness on the very gets drunk constantly, breaks his nose, day that he saw Godolphin, and the next loses his horse and money, quarrels in his entry in the diary is carefully traced with cups with a good many of his friends, a trembling hand at the bottom of the toasts King James III., and enjoys himself page nearly three months afterwards. greatly. It is to be noted that his broth- Richard had fallen ill of gout, fever, and er's curate generally shaved him during rheumatism, and had not left the room for his stay. On the 13th of June, 1702, King ten weeks, “attended by Mr. Sheppery of William's death is recorded, and soon Drury Lane, my surgeon Mr. Williams, after the diarist returns to London by and my housekeeper Mrs. Cockman." In road, taking up his quarters at Stokes's, July he was well enough to go to Danes Short's Gardens, again. In the autumn Court, and on the 11th of August visited he goes to Danes Court, where John Waldershare with his sister. There, walk
ing in the grotto, he again pledged his troth to Lucy Boys. On the 2nd of September Lucy Boys came to dine at Danes Court, and the vows were repeated. On this occasion Miss Boys showed her sincerity by handing to Richard "95 guineas, one pistole, and six shillings in silver," presumably for investment or expenditure on fitting up a home. Soon afterwards Lord Poulet came and took his wife's grandmother away on a visit to Hinton, where she died in six weeks. Richard Bere returns to London a happy man, but in a few weeks his lady love herself comes on a visit to Lord Poulet, and then, on the 20th of November, a great change comes over the tone of the entries. "The strumpet Boys came to London. I saw her at Lord Poulet's, and gave her five guineas, besides five guineas I gave her on the 26th to go to the Exchange, five guineas more I paid on her account at Mr. Stow's, and another ten pounds on account of the slut." Another entry on the 30th is still more disheartening. "I went to see the slut Boys at Lord Poulet's, and the baggage denied ever having promised to marry me at all, and now she has gone and married a stuttering parson called Woodward." Then Lord Poulet said he had never promised to do anything for him, and treated me vilely," and the whole romance was ended.
At this time there are two entries in English as follows: "November 27, 1703. From 12 a clock in ye morning till 7 was ye most violent storm of wind yt ever was known in England, and ye damage done at land and sea not to be estimated."
"On ye 15th, 16th, and 17th of January, 1703-4, was a very violent storm, which forced back ye fleet bound to Lisbon wth ye Archduke Charles, under Rooke, separating them, and did a great deale of damage."
In March, 1704, Richard is evidently making great preparations for another sea voyage. He often visits Bear Quay, and is much in the city. Trunks and new clothes seem to be bought now without much difficulty, and Benson's services are not apparently so needful for raising the wind. Richard's friend, old Mrs. Feltham, who keeps a shop in the Exchange, invites him to come and see her and drink mum, in order to ask him about making her son purser. Richard seems also to have quite a friendly correspondence with the "stuttering parson Woodward," and one is tempted to believe that Lord Poulet may after all have done something for the jilted lover. Richard's circumstances
must be a good deal changed, for he can afford to leave twenty guineas with T. Bell to keep for him when he departs for Danes Court, after a merry dinner at the Blue Posts in the Haymarket (which he quaintly translates as "los Postes ceruleos en la Feria de feno ") with Churchill and others. On the 23rd of March, 1704, he starts for Danes Court, and there the usual life of visiting and feasting is recommenced. On the 11th of April, 1704, there is an entry to the effect that he went to visit Lady Barret, and wrote to Mr. Woodward, and then the curtain drops and all is darkness, which swallows up Richard Bere and all his friends forever. Where he went and what became of him I have been unable to discover, and the transient gleam thrown across his trivial history by his own folly, in writing down his most secret actions in a language known to many, will in all probability be the only light ever thrown upon his life. John Fogge died soon after, but his widow, Richard Bere's sister, lived at Danes Court in straitened circumstances for many years after. Warren, the antiquary, writing in 1711 (Fausett MS. Kent Archæological Society), deplores that the once fine estate was reduced even then to about fifty pounds a year only, and says that it was uncertain whether any male heir was living-thus soon had scapegrace nephew Dick drifted away from his friends. Warren says that he had been last heard of at Lisbon some years before, but on his mother's death he turned up a common sailor, sold Danes Court to the Harveys in 1724, married a certain Elizabeth Rickasie, a sister of St. Bartholomew's Hospital at Sandwich, and died on board the fleet at Gibraltar in 1740, leaving, says Hasted, an only daughter, married to a poor shepherd named Cock, and living in a lowly hovel near the manor-house of which her ancestors had for centuries been masters.
MARTIN A. S. HUME.
From The National Review.
A SOMERSETSHIRE VALLEY.
VISITORS to West Somerset rarely find themselves by the banks of the river Parrett (the Pedred, it was anciently called). It has little or no reputation with the sportsman; it is out of the way of tour. ists; and its glories, such as they are, seem indeed to belong to a remote and almost indefinable past rather than to the
present. In its lower reaches the river, although etymology has claimed for it the derivation of y-Perydon, or "the divine waters," cannot by any stretch of imagination be said to be picturesque. The epithet "divine" would appear to have been bestowed upon it in the Homeric sense, or, perhaps, in commemoration of the story that Joseph of Arimathea crossed its waters on the way to Glastonbury, close by, thus making them sacrosanct forever. The ruins of this famous abbey are not far off; but on the banks itself of the river there are no dismantled castles, chantries, or ancient English homes well known to history, only the somewhat barren incidents of flat riparian scenery, scattered homesteads, cottages, barns, and long, green pastures, between which the yellow stream turns and twists in lazy folds like a huge serpent through the herbage. When the great body of sea-water fills the banks and neighboring dikes silence broods over its flood, which knows not in its solemn strength how to laugh or ripple on pebbly beach or rock, as if replete with a full life that throbs through the land with giant strength, leaving childish pranks far behind it. Like the river Duddon, celebrated by Wordsworth, no longer the nurseling of the skies, it rushes "in radiant progress towards the deep,"
Where mightiest rivers into powerless sleep Sink, and forget their nature.
Now and then, like brown, ghost-like shadows in the twilight, the sails of a coal lugger glide mysteriously against the sky line on its broad bosom, driven up stream, sometimes to the wonder of the spectator, who may forget or perhaps not see the advent of the bore.
For the Parrett is a tidal river, and, if we think of it, tidal rivers must generally be ugly, their very usefulness consisting in showing plain open reaches unimpeded by brushwood, and a good waterway accessible on either side. Not cataract, not rock, no sound of rushing waters, is needed for commerce; only sleepy, useful, and it may be sullen, gleams of water, along which men can travel easily backwards and forwards to their markets from the sea without peril, or wreckage, or discomfort. All this, indeed, the Parrett has given, and much more, in old times. Before the days of piers, dry docks, artificial basins, and harbors with all the triumphs of marine engineering, here was a place where, owing to the extraordinary rise and fall of the waters, ships could be careened with ease, and their bottoms overhauled
from stem to stern. Liverpool, indeed, was a solitude when the banks of the Parrett were thronged with sailors going backwards and forwards over the face of the earth, not indeed in floating palaces, as now, but in those ships of small burthen which, handled well and deftly, served the purposes of our Icelandic fishermen, and carried them on their farthest voyages of discovery. Sailors in those days knew well how to hand reef and steer, better perhaps than they do now.
In the sixteenth century, we are told, the woollen trade was in full swing along the valley of the Parrett. "Bridgwaters," "Tauntons," and "Dunsters," were as well-known fabrics then as Manchester cottons and Nottingham laces now. In 1389 Parliament enacted that "the broadcloth much made in Somerset shall not be sold tied up and rolled, but shall be displayed to the purchasers," in order to prevent fraud. Bridgwater was bracketed with Taunton and Dunster in the table of "Rates outwards," twelfth year of King Charles II., in respect to "woollen cloths accompted for short cloths." In the vil lages branch manufactures were carried on; and on panels and oak bench ends in the churches the industries of the age were often depicted, and are still to be seen. Pity indeed that now all local arts and handicraft are crushed out of life by the great manufacturing centres! At the beginning of this century silk-throwsting was carried on largely in the valley of the Parrett, and who will deny that the woodcarvers' art has been injured by the inevitable centralization of the age?
The Wye and the Severn farther up the Channel have somewhat by their greater celebrity relegated the Parrett to obscurity, for the Parrett is scarcely celebrated in prose, still less in poetry. "Vate caret sacro" is the motto of the tawny Parrett. Even its salmon, which undoubtedly are amongst the best in the world, are seldom spoken of outside the immediate neighborhood, and perhaps it is best known as the river with a "bore" which attains phenomenal strength and force along its banks, especially at the time of the equinox when the gales blow strong from the north-west, and pile the water up in Bridg. water Bay. Still, in spite of its ugliness, lack of æsthetic charms, and neglect by artists and historians, this river valley has seen the makings of much of England's history. It is more richly endowed with memories, as it rolls heavily seaward, than many a more picturesque and sounding river. The purity of its original foun