University of Virginia Library

2. CHAP. II.

All Fools.

Captain Fitzherbert, the father of Lucretia, was
the youngest son in a family of noble connexions and
moderate wealth. In his youth, he was sent to Manilla,
at the request of a bachelor uncle, who promised his
immense fortune as a reward for his affectionate attentions.
This uncle proved tormentingly nervous, and his
whims and caprices daily became more intolerable to a
young man of the most haughty independence and stubborn
inflexibility of character. He wrote a letter to his
father, earnestly entreating permission to return to
England. The answer he received was partly in the
language of reason, partly of authority, and ended by
expressly forbidding him to leave the East Indies during
the life-time of his uncle.

From that moment, he resolved to enter the career
of life for himself, and to spurn at the support which
must be purchased by years of servile dependence. He
collected all his money and jewels, procured the disguise
of a common sailor, and came over to America, alone
and unfriended. The new world then opened a fine
field for enterprise, and he soon accumulated property.
He had been for some time successfully engaged in

navigation, when he first met Matilda Howe, at Halifax.
She was a beautiful and destitute orphan, with great
sweetness of manners and of temper; and these qualifications
had so much weight with the young English
Captain, that he very soon gave her legal claims to his
protection. Pride had hitherto induced him to conceal
his existence from his friends; but he was now rich, and
he felt anxious to secure their friendship for the sake of
his lovely wife. For this purpose he left her a few
months after their marriage, intending to arrange some
business in the West Indies, and from thence proceed
to Liverpool, and discover himself to his family.

A short letter from Cuba was all that she ever after
received from him; nor was it long before she heard
the dreadful tidings of his shipwreck.

After the birth of the infant Lucretia, Mrs. Fitzherbert
proposed to the executors to examine the papers of her
deceased husband. To her utter astonishment and dismay,
she found that his strong box had been opened,
and every paper of any value removed. It was afterwards
reported, that during Mrs. Fitzherbert's sickness,
many of the notes were presented by a middle-aged
man, and paid by the unsuspecting debtors, who supposed
that a legal transfer had taken place. Whoever
this villain was, no trace of him could afterward be
discovered.

The distressed mother wrote two letters to England,
imploring assistance from her husband's relations. The
first received an insolent answer, disclaiming all knowledge
of such a being as young Edmund Fitzherbert,

and reproaching her with the grossness of her impudence.
The second was returned in a blank envelope.

Bowed down with affliction, the heart-broken widow
soon after expired, leaving her child to the care of
benevolent acquaintances.

The rent of a small house, all that remained of her
father's large property, saved the orphan from the
misery of entire dependence; but her young heart was
as blithe as if thousands had been her portion.

When Lucretia was in her thirteenth year, it chanced
that Miss Sandford, the maiden sister of Mrs. Hutchinson,
visited Halifax, and was taken ill at the house where
she resided. The overflowing kindness and unremitting
attention of the child won upon the stranger's heart,
and she formed the resolution of taking her under
her own immediate protection. This lady, who possessed
many foibles, united with much shrewdness and
great goodness of heart, brought the insulated little being
with her, when she returned to the dwelling of Governor
Hutchinson.

To his good opinion, the orphan possessed two very
sure passports. One was an honourable English name,
the other, a portion, scanty indeed, but sufficient to
prevent any large expenditure on the part of Miss
Sandford, whose property he thought would eventually
devolve upon him.

Anxious to ascertain whether her father's story had
really been an imposture, he caused minute inquiries to
be made in England, but could only ascertain that the

name had become extinct, and that a large estate in
Manilla had been settled on a remote collateral branch
of the family. This last account seemed to tally with the
Captain's story, and in the Governor's mind, it established
the important point of honourable birth; and though there
was seemingly no hope that Lucretia would ever become
an heiress, we must do him the justice to say, that
he treated her with extreme kindness, up to the period
we have mentioned.

The morning after Somerville's arrival, Governor
Hutchinson found a large package on his library table,
which his nephew had placed there at an early hour.
He opened it, and found a polite letter from Goldsmith,
accompanied by the “Traveller,” then recently published
in England; two long and laboured epistles from
Lord North and Mr. Grenville; and an anonymous production,
with the signature of the mitre, urging gentleness,
discretion, and open dealing, with the discontented
Colonies. These papers were read with avidity; and
could some of them now be found, they would throw
additional light on the political hypocrisy of the Chief
Justice.

The last opened letter completely arrested his attention.
It was as follows:

A long conference between the Governor, Miss Sandford,
and Lucretia, terminated in sending a note to Doctor
Byles, requesting his attendance as soon as convenient,
to converse on some particular business. A servant
was speedily despatched to Nassau-street, and soon
returned with an answer that promised an early call.
Before two hours had elapsed, Lucretia heard the well-known
sound of his gold-headed cane, as it struck on
the stone steps of the dwelling; and hastened to show
him into the library.

He was a middle-sized man, with a large, closely
curled wig, and an expression of face as strangely contradictory
as his very singular character. There was a
sanctity about his mouth, evidently induced by long habit;
but nature peeped out at his eye with unrestrained
drollery.

“Wherefore am I summoned?” said he, planting his
cane firmly on the threshold of the door. “Has Jethro
cut his little finger? Has Aunt Sandford been backbiting
her neighbours till her double teeth ache? Or have the
rebels more symptoms of the cholic?”

“None of these things have befallen us,” answered
the Governor, smiling, “I want to consult you about
Lucretia's affairs.”

“What affairs can she have, pray? No design of
wearing Hymen's saffron robe, I trust?”

“They say it is a garment often bought,” observed
Lucretia; “and it is money which uncle Hutchinson
wishes to talk with you about.”

The Governor placed the letter in his hand, and remarked,
“With all your contempt of wealth, you will
not wonder that its contents are highly interesting to us.”

“It is indeed of consequence that it should be attended
to,” said he, “but what is to be done?”

“All the evidence that can possibly be collected, must
be immediately committed to paper. I have heard you
say, that you saw Captain Fitzherbert, in your youth.
I believe you and Madam Sandford will be my most
valuable evidence.”

Now, to this lady the reverend Doctor had a most
unconquerable aversion. Some said it was because he
suspected her of forming designs on his liberty, while
he was a widower. To this charge she never condescended
to give any other answer than, “It would be
strange if I should seek such a punishment, when nothing
worse than Biles could be found wherewith to afflict
Job.”

Perhaps it might be this same habit of paying him in
his own coin, which had first created a dislike. Be that
as it may, he lost no opportunity of railing at her, and
when Lucretia was desired to call her, he exclaimed,

“Oh dear, that Miss Sandford! I have such a phobia
of her. From morning till night she is clattering about
the faults and follies of her neighbours; and as for her
own character, it is a dark lanthorn,—nobody sees the
bright side but herself.”

Governor Hutchinson looked upon his friend as a
privileged person, and took no notice of these and similar
remarks; but they were always distressing to Lucretia,
and she had just whispered, “I beg of you not
to talk in this way,”—when Miss Sandford entered and
wished him good morning.

“Good morning, Madam Sandford,” said the Doctor,
rising.—“Hem! Pray Governor Hutchinson have you
the Gossip, or the Tatler, or the Busy-body in your
library?”

“I thought the last was usually in Doctor Byles's
presence,” observed Miss Sandford, sweeping past him
in great indiguation.

“A truce with such contests,” said her brother-in-law.
“I wish to ascertain how much both of you know
concerning Captain Fitzherbert.”

Doctor Byles then proceeded to details exactly corresponding
to the story we have already told. “I remember,”
said he, “hearing Captain Fitzherbert speak of his
escape from Manilla. He was a proud-spirited man,
and nothing on the earth or beneath it could compel him
to an action. He used to say he had rather be a ploughboy
in America, than a prince in the East Indies.”

“I have heard that remark of my father's repeated
several times,” said Lucretia.

“And you know the lady with whom you boarded
after you mother's death used to tell many anecdotes
about his Manilla uncle,” said Miss Sandford. “Do
you remember her accounts of his chocolate-coloured
gown, the monkey that saw fit to hide his wig in the
chimney, and the favourite old servant that used to lie
on his back and fiddle all day?”

“All this is nothing to the purpose,” said Doctor Byles,
sternly. “Women should only speak when it is necessary.”

“All these trifling details will serve to authenticate
the story,” observed the Governor. “Do you know
whether Captain Fitzherbert ever heard from his relations
after he left them?”

“I have heard that he was once taken ill with a fever,
and carried to Chelsea Hospital,” replied Lucretia;
“and that his father was one of the visiting committee,
and used frequently to give him cordials with his own
hand; but time and sickness had so changed my father
that he did not know him; and his pride would not submit
to an avowal under such circumstances.”

“That was strength of nerve indeed,” said Hutchinson,
“to meet a father in a foreign land, and yet remain
incog. But bless my heart, why have none of us
thought of Mr. Townsend? he was one of the executors.”

“What, Townsend of Roxbury, who lives in a house
leaking at every pore, goes to bed before dark to save
his candles, and wears a garment woven before Deucalion's
deluge?”

“Just so, Doctor Byles; and is worth thousands of
pounds for all that,” replied the Governor. “Lucretia,
sit down and write a note to Mr. Townsend, requesting
him to come here; and send Jethro with the carriage.”

“I love that scatter-brained girl in spite of myself,”
said Doctor Byles, as she left the apartment. “Did
you notice the tears in her eyes when we talked of her
mother? I believe there was some great villany about
her father's property.”

“People do say this Mr. Townsend is no better than
he should be,” rejoined Miss Sandford.

“Did you ever hear of any body that was?” said
Doctor Byles.

“If I had, I should have heard a fact you will never
know by experience,” answered she.

“Surely you have touched the Doctor's garments,”
said her brother, laughing.

“At any event, wit made a strange mistake when it
popped into her brain,” rejoined her unwearied tormentor.

Some more conversation followed, the particulars of
which were interesting only to the parties concerned;
and the Governor was busy in committing the various
facts to paper, when Jethro arrived with Mr. Townsend.
He was an old man, with a black cap pulled closely
over his shaggy eye-brows, a wrinkled face, a threadbare
coat, and patched small-clothes, tied above the
knee with leathern strings.

The rising smile was checked by the politeness of
the Chief Justice, who handed him a chair, and after a

few general inquiries, spoke of the business for which
he had summoned him.

Every one noticed his look of deadly paleness, when
the name of Fitzherbert was mentioned.

“I am an old man,” said he, in the querulous tones
of extreme age; “and a poor one. That was a troublesome
business. Papers were lost; and the world blamed
me, God knows, without reason.”

“Old man, swear not at all,” exclaimed Doctor
Byles, with a thundering voice.

The miser looked terrified.

“It is hard to perplex an old man with this business,
when he is just on the verge of the grave,” said he.
“I am poor,—too poor to be wearing and tearing my
clothes in riding about from one end of the town to the
other; and I have been despit sick for years back. I
have a power of complaints on me now.”

“An expansion of the heart is one disorder you have
contracted, is it not?” inquired Doctor Byles.

“I have had almost all kinds of sickness in my day,”
replied the old man, without noticing the ridicule of the
remark; “but then you know doctors cost a mint of
money.”

That craving for sympathy which leads us all to dwell
more or less on our own miseries, would have induced
Mr Townsend to prolong this topic to a painful length,
had not Governor Hutchinson at once arrested him by
direct questions concerning the Fitzherbert estate. On
this subject, he was less garrulous. A trembling hesitation,
which might proceed either from conscious guilt,

or from an incapacity for business, was very discernible.
His story was but a repetition of the other, excepting
that he remembered having seen the death of Mr. Edmund
Fitzherbert, of Manilla, in the London Chronicle.
Having given his testimony, he expressed a wish to
oblige the gentlemen in any thing that would not prove
expensive, and signified his desire to depart.

That there had been some mistake concerning the
death of the East India uncle, and that Lucretia would
be heiress to his immense wealth, was the impression of
all her friends.

The Governor congratulated her on her prospects,
but at the same time reminded her of their extreme
uncertainty, and exhorted her to keep the whole affair
secret for the present; since, in case of failure, it would
be exceedingly unpleasant to be questioned concerning
it.

Miss Sandford did not attempt to conceal her joy.
“Lucretia will be the richest woman in New England,”
said she; “a match for the greatest man in the
Colonies.”

“Mulier ad unguem,” exclaimed Doctor Byles;
“ideas always saffron-coloured. It would be well if
you thought as much of some other flames as you do
of Hymen's torch.”

“In my opinion, wrath and eternal fire are too much
talked of by some ministers,” rejoined the maiden.

“No doubt you think so,” replied he; “and when
one seems so anxious that a place should be represented
comfortable, one cannot but have a shrewd suspicion
they expect to go there.”

“I know of no one so fit to be master of ceremonies
as yourself,” retorted she.

“A young distiller has moved into your neighbourhood,
Governor Hutchinson,” said the Doctor; “and
the first business I wish you to give him is to still your
sister's tongue.”

“A heavy cannonade, upon my word,” said the
laughing Lucretia; “but after all, Doctor Byles, none
of my friends will be more glad of my good fortune than
yourself.”

“Very true, my good girl,” said he, affectionately
taking her hand; “but it will be that you have it in
your power to be useful,—not to get a husband.”

“Certainly not,” replied Lucretia. “I am sure—”

“Have a care,” interrupted the Doctor, “else I shall
be tempted to say, `Faith, I 'll believe a woman, when
I have nothing else to do.”'

Lucretia blushed,—for at that moment she was actually
conjecturing whether her thousands could make
Somerville forget that she was less beautiful than Grace
Osborne.