Rambles in Dickens' Land Part 16

"At the foot of a flight of steps, leading to the house door, which was guarded on either side by an American aloe in a green tub, the sedan-chair stopped. Mr. Pickwick and his friends were conducted into the hall, whence, having been previously announced by Muzzle, and ordered in by Mr. Nupkins, they were ushered into the worshipful presence of that public-spirited officer."

And we all recollect the resulting _expose_ of the designs of Mr. Alfred Jingle (_alias_ Captain Fitzmarshall), and the return by Mr. Weller of "Job Trotter's shuttlec.o.c.k as heavily as it came."

It should also be not forgotten that it was at this house Mr. Weller met with his lady-elect, Mary, the Pretty Housemaid (afterwards maid to Mrs.

Winkle), and that here the first pa.s.sage of first love occurred between them. For the pleasant narration of the episode, reference should be made to the conclusion of the foregoing chapter:-

"Now, there was n.o.body in the kitchen but the pretty housemaid; and as Sam's hat was mislaid, he had to look for it, and the pretty housemaid lighted him. They had to look all over the place for the hat. The pretty housemaid, in her anxiety to find it, went down on her knees, and turned over all the things that were heaped together in a little corner by the door. It was an awkward corner. You couldn't get at it without shutting the door first.

"'Here it is,' said the pretty housemaid. 'This is it, ain't it?'

"'Let me look,' said Sam.

"The pretty housemaid had stood the candle on the floor; as it gave a very dim light, Sam was obliged to go down on his knees before he could see whether it really was his own hat or not. It was a remarkably small corner, and so-it was n.o.body's fault but the man's who built the house-Sam and the pretty housemaid were necessarily very close together.

"'Yes, this is it,' said Sam. 'Good-bye!'

"'Good-bye!' said the pretty housemaid.

"'Good-bye!' said Sam; and as he said it, he dropped the hat that had cost so much trouble in looking for.

"'How awkward you are,' said the pretty housemaid. 'You'll lose it again, if you don't take care.'

"So, just to prevent his losing it again, she put it on for him.

"Whether it was that the pretty housemaid's face looked prettier still, when it was raised towards Sam's, or whether it was the accidental consequence of their being so near to each other, is matter of uncertainty to this day; but Sam kissed her.

"'You don't mean to say that you did that on purpose,' said the pretty housemaid, blushing.

"'No, I didn't then,' said Sam; 'but I will now.'

"So he kissed her again.

"'Sam!' said Mr. Pickwick, calling over the banisters.

"'Coming, sir,' replied Sam, running upstairs.

"'How long you have been!' said Mr. Pickwick.

"'There was something behind the door, sir, which perwented our getting it open, for ever so long, sir,' replied Sam."

Resuming the journey onwards by rail from Ipswich, the route is continued _via Saxmundham Junction_, _Halesworth_, and _Beccles_, to the South Town Station at Great Yarmouth, a well-known and favourite seaside resort, of much interest to the d.i.c.kensian Rambler, as being intimately a.s.sociated with the personal history and experience of David Copperfield. Visitors are recommended, for reasons hereafter to be seen, to select as their place of sojourn either the "_Star Hotel_" on the Hall Quay, or the "_Angel_," near the market-place. Any thoroughfare leading eastward from either of these will conduct to the _Marine Parade_, in full view of the German Ocean.

Towards the southern end of this sea frontage of the town, there may be localised the spot where once stood the Home of Little Emily, "a black barge or some other kind of superannuated boat, high and dry on the ground, with an iron funnel sticking out of it for a chimney. There was a delightful door cut in the side; it was roofed in, and there were little windows in it."

The position of this old boat-house, as belonging to Dan'l Peggotty, was at the upper extremity of the _South Denes_, a flat and gra.s.sy expanse-beyond the _Wellington Pier_ and _South Battery_-in the neighbourhood of the _Nelson Column_, facing the sea.

In chapter 22 we find a reference to the South Town ferry, crossing the Yare, "to a flat between the river and the sea, Mr. Peggotty's house being on that waste place, and not a hundred yards out of the track."

[There is a small wooden erection, more than a mile and a half distant, on the sea-front near _Gorleston Pier_-between two well-built houses-a.s.suming the name of _Peggotty's Hut_; but this is an evident absurdity and misnomer.]

Here, then, we may recall the many interests and incidents connected with the experiences of the Peggotty family, and the sorrowful history of Little Emily, notably the fateful occasion of STEERFORTH'S FIRST VISIT, concerning which David records in chapter 21 of his autobiography, to the following effect:-

"Em'ly, indeed, said little all the evening; but she looked, and listened, and her face got animated, and she was charming.

Steerforth told a story of a dismal shipwreck (which arose out of his talk with Mr. Peggotty), as if he saw it all before him-and little Em'ly's eyes were fastened on him all the time, as if she saw it too.

He told us a merry adventure of his own, as a relief to that, with as much gaiety as if the narrative were as fresh to him as it was to us-and little Em'ly laughed until the boat rang with the musical sounds, and we all laughed (Steerforth too), in irresistible sympathy with what was so pleasant and lighthearted. He got Mr. Peggotty to sing, or rather to roar, 'When the stormy winds do blow, do blow, do blow;' and he sang a sailor's song himself, so pathetically and beautifully, that I could have almost fancied that the real wind creeping sorrowfully round the house, and murmuring low through our unbroken silence, was there to listen."

Thus commenced the sad story of the poor girl's fascination and subsequent flight with Steerforth, never more to return to the old home.

In this connection we may recall the graphic and powerful description of the great Storm at Yarmouth, as contained in chapter 55, when Ham met his fate in the gallant attempt to rescue the last survivor of a wrecked and perishing crew, Steerforth himself:-

"They drew him to my very feet-insensible-dead. He was carried to the nearest house; and, no one preventing me now, I remained near him, busy, while every means of restoration was tried; but he had been beaten to death by the great wave, and his generous heart was stilled for ever.

"As I sat beside the bed, when hope was abandoned and all was done, a fisherman, who had known me when Emily and I were children, and ever since, whispered my name at the door.

"Sir,' said he, with tears starting to his weather-beaten face, which, with his trembling lips, was ashy pale, 'will you come over yonder?'

"The old remembrance that had been recalled to me was in his look. I asked him, terror-stricken, leaning on the arm he held out to support me-

"'Has a body come ash.o.r.e?'

"He said, 'Yes.'

"'Do I know it?' I asked then.

"He answered nothing.

"But he led me to the sh.o.r.e. And on that part of it where she and I had looked for sh.e.l.ls, two children-on that part of it where some lighter fragments of the old boat, blown down last night, had been scattered by the wind-among the ruins of the home he had wronged-I saw him lying with his head upon his arm, as I had often seen him lie at school."

In the days of Copperfield, Two Coaches ran between Great Yarmouth and London-"The Blue" and "The Royal Mail." On the occasion of David's first journey to his school at Blackheath, he travelled by the former of these, from The Angel Hotel, in the Market Place. We may here recall his dinner of chops in the coffee-room, at which the "friendly waiter" a.s.sisted, helping himself to the lion's share.

In chapter 5 of his History, David relates the attendant circ.u.mstances of this, his second visit to Yarmouth; and how, starting as above from the hotel, his dinner-ordered and paid for in advance-was mainly consumed by proxy, ale included. We read that the waiter, "a twinkling-eyed, pimple-faced man, with his hair standing upright all over his head,"

invited himself to the meal:-

"He took a chop by the bone in one hand, and a potato in the other, and ate away with a very good appet.i.te, to my extreme satisfaction.

He afterwards took another chop, and another potato; and after that another chop and another potato. When we had done, he brought me a pudding, and having set it before me, seemed to ruminate, and to become absent in his mind for some moments.

"'How's the pie?' he said, rousing himself.

"'It's a pudding,' I made answer.

"'Pudding!' he exclaimed. 'Why, bless me, so it is! What!' looking at it nearer. 'You don't mean to say it's a batter-pudding?'

"'Yes, it is indeed.'

"'Why, a batter-pudding,' he said, taking up a table-spoon, 'is my favourite pudding. Ain't that lucky? Come on, little 'un, and let's see who'll get most.'

"The waiter certainly got most. He entreated me more than once to come in and win, but what with his table-spoon to my tea-spoon, his despatch to my despatch, and his appet.i.te to my appet.i.te, I was left far behind at the first mouthful, and had no chance with him. I never saw any one enjoy a pudding so much, I think; and he laughed, when it was all gone, as if his enjoyment of it lasted still."