Bab Bab 49 · 第49章

Just as the insolent rogue was talking thus to the constable, comes

back Mr. William and Mr. Anthony, as he called them, and a great rabble

with them, bringing along with them the true widow that I was pretended

to be; and they came sweating and blowing into the shop, and with a

great deal of triumph, dragging the poor creature in the most butcherly

manner up towards their master, who was in the back shop, and cried out

aloud, “Here’s the widow, sir; we have catched her at last.” “What do

ye mean by that?” says the master. “Why, we have her already; there she

sits,” says he, “and Mr. ——,” says he, “can swear this is she.” The

other man, whom they called Mr. Anthony, replied, “Mr. —— may say what

he will, and swear what he will, but this is the woman, and there’s the

remnant of satin she stole; I took it out of her clothes with my own

hand.”

I sat still now, and began to take a better heart, but smiled and said

nothing; the master looked pale; the constable turned about and looked

at me. “Let ’em alone, Mr. Constable,” said I; “let “em go on.” The

case was plain and could not be denied, so the constable was charged

with the right thief, and the mercer told me very civilly he was sorry

for the mistake, and hoped I would not take it ill; that they had so

many things of this nature put upon them every day, that they could not

be blamed for being very sharp in doing themselves justice. “Not take

it ill, sir!” said I; “how can I take it well! If you had dismissed me

when your insolent fellow seized on me it the street, and brought me to

you, and when you yourself acknowledged I was not the person, I would

have put it by, and not taken it ill, because of the many ill things I

believe you have put upon you daily; but your treatment of me since has

been insufferable, and especially that of your servant; I must and will

have reparation for that.”

Then he began to parley with me, said he would make me any reasonable

satisfaction, and would fain have had me tell him what it was I

expected. I told him that I should not be my own judge, the law should

decide it for me; and as I was to be carried before a magistrate, I

should let him hear there what I had to say. He told me there was no

occasion to go before the justice now, I was at liberty to go where I

pleased; and so, calling to the constable, told him he might let me go,

for I was discharged. The constable said calmly to him, “sir, you asked

me just now if I knew whether I was a constable or justice, and bade me

do my duty, and charged me with this gentlewoman as a prisoner. Now,

sir, I find you do not understand what is my duty, for you would make

me a justice indeed; but I must tell you it is not in my power. I may

keep a prisoner when I am charged with him, but ’tis the law and the

magistrate alone that can discharge that prisoner; therefore ’tis a

mistake, sir; I must carry her before a justice now, whether you think

well of it or not.” The mercer was very high with the constable at

first; but the constable happening to be not a hired officer, but a

good, substantial kind of man (I think he was a corn-handler), and a

man of good sense, stood to his business, would not discharge me

without going to a justice of the peace; and I insisted upon it too.

When the mercer saw that, “Well,” says he to the constable, “you may

carry her where you please; I have nothing to say to her.” “But, sir,”

says the constable, “you will go with us, I hope, for ’tis you that

charged me with her.” “No, not I,” says the mercer; “I tell you I have

nothing to say to her.” “But pray, sir, do,” says the constable; “I

desire it of you for your own sake, for the justice can do nothing

without you.” “Prithee, fellow,” says the mercer, “go about your

business; I tell you I have nothing to say to the gentlewoman. I charge

you in the king’s name to dismiss her.” “Sir,” says the constable, “I

find you don’t know what it is to be constable; I beg of you don’t

oblige me to be rude to you.” “I think I need not; you are rude enough

already,” says the mercer. “No, sir,” says the constable, “I am not

rude; you have broken the peace in bringing an honest woman out of the

street, when she was about her lawful occasion, confining her in your

shop, and ill-using her here by your servants; and now can you say I am

rude to you? I think I am civil to you in not commanding or charging

you in the king’s name to go with me, and charging every man I see that

passes your door to aid and assist me in carrying you by force; this

you cannot but know I have power to do, and yet I forbear it, and once

more entreat you to go with me.” Well, he would not for all this, and

gave the constable ill language. However, the constable kept his

temper, and would not be provoked; and then I put in and said, “Come,

Mr. Constable, let him alone; I shall find ways enough to fetch him

before a magistrate, I don’t fear that; but there’s the fellow,” says

I, “he was the man that seized on me as I was innocently going along

the street, and you are a witness of the violence with me since; give

me leave to charge you with him, and carry him before the justice.”

“Yes, madam,” says the constable; and turning to the fellow “Come,

young gentleman,” says he to the journeyman, “you must go along with

us; I hope you are not above the constable’s power, though your master

is.”

The fellow looked like a condemned thief, and hung back, then looked at

his master, as if he could help him; and he, like a fool, encourage the

fellow to be rude, and he truly resisted the constable, and pushed him

back with a good force when he went to lay hold on him, at which the

constable knocked him down, and called out for help; and immediately

the shop was filled with people, and the constable seized the master

and man, and all his servants.

This first ill consequence of this fray was, that the woman they had

taken, who was really the thief, made off, and got clear away in the

crowd; and two other that they had stopped also; whether they were

really guilty or not, that I can say nothing to.

By this time some of his neighbours having come in, and, upon inquiry,

seeing how things went, had endeavoured to bring the hot-brained mercer

to his senses, and he began to be convinced that he was in the wrong;

and so at length we went all very quietly before the justice, with a

mob of about five hundred people at our heels; and all the way I went I

could hear the people ask what was the matter, and other reply and say,

a mercer had stopped a gentlewoman instead of a thief, and had

afterwards taken the thief, and now the gentlewoman had taken the

mercer, and was carrying him before the justice. This pleased the

people strangely, and made the crowd increase, and they cried out as

they went, “Which is the rogue? which is the mercer?” and especially

the women. Then when they saw him they cried out, “That’s he, that’s

he”; and every now and then came a good dab of dirt at him; and thus we

marched a good while, till the mercer thought fit to desire the

constable to call a coach to protect himself from the rabble; so we

rode the rest of the way, the constable and I, and the mercer and his

man.

When we came to the justice, which was an ancient gentleman in

Bloomsbury, the constable giving first a summary account of the matter,

the justice bade me speak, and tell what I had to say. And first he

asked my name, which I was very loth to give, but there was no remedy,

so I told him my name was Mary Flanders, that I was a widow, my husband

being a sea captain, died on a voyage to Virginia; and some other

circumstances I told which he could never contradict, and that I lodged

at present in town with such a person, naming my governess; but that I

was preparing to go over to America, where my husband’s effects lay,

and that I was going that day to buy some clothes to put myself into

second mourning, but had not yet been in any shop, when that fellow,

pointing to the mercer’s journeyman, came rushing upon me with such

fury as very much frighted me, and carried me back to his master’s

shop, where, though his master acknowledged I was not the person, yet

he would not dismiss me, but charged a constable with me.

Then I proceeded to tell how the journeyman treated me; how they would

not suffer me to send for any of my friends; how afterwards they found

the real thief, and took the very goods they had lost upon her, and all

the particulars as before.

Then the constable related his case: his dialogue with the mercer about

discharging me, and at last his servant’s refusing to go with him, when

he had charged him with him, and his master encouraging him to do so,

and at last his striking the constable, and the like, all as I have

told it already.

The justice then heard the mercer and his man. The mercer indeed made a

long harangue of the great loss they have daily by lifters and thieves;

that it was easy for them to mistake, and that when he found it he

would have dismissed me, etc., as above. As to the journeyman, he had

very little to say, but that he pretended other of the servants told

him that I was really the person.

Upon the whole, the justice first of all told me very courteously I was

discharged; that he was very sorry that the mercer’s man should in his

eager pursuit have so little discretion as to take up an innocent

person for a guilty person; that if he had not been so unjust as to

detain me afterward, he believed I would have forgiven the first

affront; that, however, it was not in his power to award me any

reparation for anything, other than by openly reproving them, which he

should do; but he supposed I would apply to such methods as the law

directed; in the meantime he would bind him over.

But as to the breach of the peace committed by the journeyman, he told

me he should give me some satisfaction for that, for he should commit

him to Newgate for assaulting the constable, and for assaulting me

also.

Accordingly he sent the fellow to Newgate for that assault, and his

master gave bail, and so we came away; but I had the satisfaction of

seeing the mob wait upon them both, as they came out, hallooing and

throwing stones and dirt at the coaches they rode in; and so I came

home to my governess.