People pressed close against us; cunning faces studied us; it would have been frightening to have been alone; but the promenades were filled mainly with people like ourselves, and as there were stalls containing materials of the finest quality and ribbons, laces, fans, patches, books and ornaments, the vendors were eager for our patronage and frowned on the beggars who lurked around and, I was sure, were intent on picking the pockets of the unwary.
I saw a man with his tailor who was telling him how much material he should buy; there were notices on the pillars offering services of all natures. There was a woman with a young girl and boy who looked downcast and indeed terrified. I guessed she was offering them as servants for some rich household. I saw a woman with an evil face talking earnestly to a young dandy in a cloak of crimson velvet with gold lace on his breeches; a very young girl was with her—and as she was clearly being shown off to the young man even my country innocence could guess the nature of that transaction. It was all rather terrifying and yet exciting. The place seemed to have a life of its own such as no other I had ever known had had.
Carlotta suddenly announced that she could not find what she wanted in the Walk so we would go to the New Exchange in the Strand. So we got into the coach, and it was not easy to move along, for people crowded round it, laughing at our vehicle, touching it, peering in the window at us, offering us all sorts of merchandise—from silver chains to silk kerchiefs—many of which had been, I had no doubt, but a short time before snatched from some unwary passer-by.
So we came to the New Exchange and ascended to an upper gallery, which was lined with shops offering for sale ribbons, laces, cloth of all description, powder, rouge, patches, cuffs and collars, some very fine, embroidered in gold and silver.
Carlotta made a few purchases and we returned to the coach.
I was fascinated by the Strand and the grand houses there whose gardens ran down to the river; I loved the narrow streets at the end of which I could see the water lapping; in fact I was ready to admit that I had never dreamed there could be such a place, and the very fact that underlying its grandeur was something so certainly sinister but added to its attraction.
We had left the Strand well behind and were coming toward Whitehall when I saw the most fearful sight I had, to that time, ever seen.
I had seen men in the pillory before, for there was one in our village and offenders were often put in it and made to endure the ridicule of passers-by in order to impress on them the error of their ways; but I had never seen anything like this.
These two men were in the sombre garments which proclaimed them as Puritans. They did not look like men because I could not see their faces for blood; it had splashed on to their hands which protruded through the holes.
I stared in horror and Carlotta followed my gaze.
‘Puritans,’ she said. ‘They have been making trouble.’
‘What trouble?’
‘Perhaps talking against the Court. They are always trying to stop all sport and pleasure. They criticized the Queen, no doubt, and accused her of trying to foist Catholicism on the nation.’
‘And for that …?’
‘They have lost their ears,’ she said.
We had passed on. The coach carried us on through green fields and the pleasant villages of Kensington and Barnes until in due course we arrived at Pondersby Hall, and for me every impression of that colourful scene had been overlaid by the sight of those two Puritans in the pillory.
I began to understand what Gervaise meant when he talked about the uneasiness in the country.
Carlotta was pleased because there was to be a ball at one of the fine houses near Whitehall, and she and Sir Gervaise had received an invitation which included Senara and the visitor from the country—myself.
‘You have been noticed,’ said Carlotta. ‘This is at the house of Lord Mallard who is a confidant of the King, so it is almost certain that Their Majesties will be present.’
There was a great deal of excitement as to what must be worn and even Carlotta was less languid than usual. Ana was pressed into service, and as the time drew near it was discovered that we were short of the lace with which Carlotta’s gown was to be trimmed and that ribbons were needed for my dress.
We would therefore take the coach and there would be another trip into the city. My feelings were a little mixed. I was uneasy about the ball, for Carlotta had so impressed on me my lack of social grace, and although I felt a great excitement at the prospect of visiting the city again I had not forgotten the sight of the two men in the pillory.
We set out early in the Pondersby coach. It was misty down by the river, which gave an aura of enchantment to the scene. There was a blue haze on the trees which I found entrancing and I felt my spirits rising as high as they could, oppressed as they always were by anxieties about what was happening at home.
We came to St Paul’s Walk and I was again fascinated by the people there. I was listening to a moneylender with whom a languid gallant most extravagantly clad was trying to arrange a loan; then my attention was caught by a horse dealer who was explaining to a prospective buyer the points of the animal he was leading; there was a man writing a letter at the dictation of an anxious-eyed woman, and I found myself wondering what tragedy had brought her there. Carlotta was busy with the lace seller and had moved round to the side of the stall, and as I stood there a woman approached me, her eyes full of anguish.
‘Lady,’ she said in a hoarse whisper, ‘spare me something. My husband is dead … drowned in the river when his boat overturned. I have six starving children and not a bite has passed their lips these last two days. You have a kind face. You’ll give, I know.’
And I knew that if I turned away as Carlotta would have bidden me I should never be able to forget her face, so I took out my purse and opened it, but at that moment a boy who could not have been more than eleven years old darted up and snatched the purse from me.
I cried out but he was already disappearing and without thinking I ran after him. I could see him darting in and out of the crowd and I followed, calling: ‘Come back. Give me back my purse.’
The crowd impeded the thief’s progress as well as mine, and I kept him in sight until he broke free and ran down an alley.
Without thinking I followed. He ran round a corner and I went after him, but he had already turned another corner and when I followed I could no longer see him. I stopped short. Two men were coming towards me and I felt myself go cold with fear, for they had such evil looks. Their unkempt hair fell over their faces, their ragged garments hung loosely, and through the rents in them I caught glimpses of dirty skin. They were smiling in a way which was horrifying.
I turned to run but I was too late, and I realized in that moment that I did not know where I was.
There was one of them on either side of me, their leering faces close to mine. One pulled at the chain about my neck which my mother had given me, and I cried out in protest.
My arms were pinioned and I started to scream loudly.
‘You’re caught, my pretty,’ said one of the men, his face so near mine that I smelt his foul breath and saw his ugly broken teeth.
‘Let me go. Let me go …’ I shouted wildly.
‘Not yet …’ said the other, and they began to drag me towards the door of a dwelling which I had not noticed before.
I began to pray to myself because I had never been so frightened in my life, and I knew that these men meant to inflict on me the worst of all evils and possibly death; and it had all happened so suddenly, for one moment I had been thinking of laces and ribbons, letter writers and moneylenders, and now here I was captured, and even in such a moment I thought of my mother when she learned what had happened to me.