A Maggot - John Fowles (19 page)

Q. And Jones's suspicion?

A. Now supposing, Mr Lacy, he said, all is true about
Mr Bartholomew and the young lady except this: that she and her uncle
are in the West. Supposing that until a day or two ago she was indeed
kept his prisoner, yet not where we think; but in London, where Mr
Bartholomew told you he first met her. And therefore - you take his
drift, sir.

Q. You were assisting an elopement post facto?

A. I was shocked, Mr Ayscough. The more I reflected
on what I had observed of her myself, the more I saw colour in
it-were it not for her kindness in Dick's regard, yet I saw that
might have been to deceive us. Jones proposed that the going out in
the night had been to solemnize a clandestine wedding; which did
explain why we should have delayed at Amesbury, upon so trifling an
outward reason. The only good I could discern in it was that had Mr
Bartholomew accomplished such an end, he should not need our service
further; and that we must soon know. I will not repeat all we
conjectured, sir. I had almost feared to find Mr Bartholomew already
decamped with his bride when I came down.

Q. But he was not?

A. He was not, sir; nor indeed seemed changed in any
way. So we must set out, and myself to feel gravely at a loss to know
how to broach the matter with him. However, before with Jones I
agreed he should find opportunity to speak aside with the girl, to
hint playfully he had wind of her night adventure; in short to see
what might be teased out of her.

Q. Did he succeed?

A. No, sir, though he found an opportunity to charge
her. He said she seemed at first in some confusion, when he pressed
his hints; would not admit them and grew angry when he persisted,
till she would not answer at all.

Q. She denied she had left the inn?

A. She did, sir.

Q. Tell me this now. Subsequent to that day were you
informed what purpose this nocturnal adventure had?

A. No, sir, I was not. It is a mystery, like so much
else, alas.

Q. Very well. I can no more today, Lacy, I have other
business. You will attend here tomorrow morning, eight o'clock
prompt. Is it understood? Without fail, sir. You are not clear yet.

A. My own conscience shall
bring me, Mr Ayscough. You need not fear.

* * *

The Examination and Deposition of
Hannah Claiborne
the which
doth attest upon her sworn
oath, this four
and twentieth day
of August in the tenth year
of the
reign of our sovereign Lord George the
second, by the grace of God King of Great
Britain and of England, &c.
*
* *

My nameis Hannah
Claiborne. I am forty-eight years of age, and widow. I am keeper of
the St James house, that is in German Street.

* * *

Q. Now, woman, we will not beat about the bush. You
know him I search after.

A. To my cost.

Q. And even more to your cost, if you do not speak
truth.

A. I know which side the butter lies.

Q. I would hear first of this creature of yours. Know
you her true name?

A. Rebecca Hocknell. But we called her Fanny.

Q. You never heard her called by a French name, to
wit Louise?

A. No.

Q. And whence hailed she?

A. Bristol, or so she said.

Q. Has she family there?

A. For all I know.

Q. Meaning you do not?

A. She never spake of them.

Q. When came she first to your house?

A. Three years past.

Q. How old was she then?

A. Near twenty.

Q. How came she in your claws?

A. By one I know.

Q. Claiborne, thou art one of this town's most
notorious whoremongers. None of thy laconic insolence with me.

A. By a woman I sent out.

Q. To spy out the innocent and corrupt 'em?

A. She was already corrupted.

Q. Already a whore?

A. She lost her honour where she was maid, to a son
of the house, at Bristol where she came from. And was dismissed. Or
so she said.

Q. She was by child?

A. No, she is barren naturally.

Q. Unnaturally. Now, was she sought after at your
stews?

A. More for her tricks than her flesh.

Q. What tricks?

A. That she knew to tame men to her fancy. She had as
well been actress as whore.

Q. How encompassed she this taming?

A. That she was no ordinary piece of flesh, but pure
as Hampstead water, and must be treated so. 'Twas miracle her custom
stood for it, and came back for more.

Q. She played the lady?

A. She played innocence, when she was not one jot, as
cold wanton a trollop as ever I knew.

Q. What innocence?

A. Prude, modest sister, Miss Fresh-from-the-country,
Miss Timid Don't-tempt-me, Miss Simple - would you have more? A novel
of her tricks would make a book. She was

innocent as a nest of vipers, the cunning hussy. None
better at whipping, when she wanted. Old Mr Justice P......n,
doubtless you know him well, sir, that cannot spend till first he be
well thrashed and striped. With him she'd be disdainful as an infanta
and cruel as a tartar, all in the same bout. Which he craved, beside.
But no matter.

Q. Where learnt she these powers of simulation?

A. Not from me, from the Devil. 'Twas born in her
nature.

Q. Was she not famed for her lewd skill in one part?

A. What is that?

Q. I would have thee look at this printed paper,
Claiborne. I am told it went out at thy expense.

A. I deny it.

Q. Have you seen it?

A. I may -have seen it.

Q. I will read you a choice passage. For an amorous
Encounter with the Quaker Maid, Reader, thou had'st best count thy
Gold first. This is no silver Quean, despite her modest Appellation,
nor no modest One, neither, despite her first Appearance. Thou must
know nothing pleases your true Debauchee better than to be obliged to
force, and such is this cunning Nymph's Device - to blush, to flee,
to cry for Shame, until at last she's brought to Bay. But thereafter
'tis a most curious and commodious Hind, who neither fights for Life
nor swoons of Fear; but sweetly bares her pretty Heart to the
fortunate Huntsman's Dagger; though 'tis whispered she requires such
Stabbing there as more often leaves Sir Nimrod dead than she.' Well,
madam?

A. Well, sir?

Q. Is it she?

A. Yes, I suppose. What if it is? I did not write nor
publish it.

Q. That shall bring thee no mercy on Judgement Day.
He whose name I forbid you to utter, when came he first into this?

A. At the beginning of April last.

Q. You had seen him before?

A. No, and would I had not seen him then. He came
with a gentleman I know well, my lord B-, who presented him to me and
said he would meet Fanny, whom his Lordship had

commended. But of this I knew before.

Q. How?

A. Lord B..... had already taken her, by note of
hand, a four days before; though he said not for who it was, 'cept
one of his friends.

Q. This is frequent, that your wenches are taken,
ahead of their vile employment?

A. If they are prize pieces.

Q. And this one was one such?

A. Yes, curse her.

Q. Lord B..... introduced his friend under his true
name?

A. No name was said. But Lord B...... told me in
private afterward.

Q. And what passed?

A. He went with Fanny. And two or three times more,
in the week that followed.

Q. Seemed he to know houses like yours?

A. A gosling.

Q. What are they?

A. That are over-lavish in their gifts, that will
have one wench or one pleasure and no other, that would hide their
names and be secret in their coming and going. They are our goslings.

Q. And your geese the hardened rakes?

A. Yes.

Q. And he we speak of was in down?

A. He would have none but Fanny, and hid his name, or
would hide it from me. He made presents above what was due.

Q. To you or the girl?

A. To both.

Q. Presents of money?

A. Yes.

Q. And what led to her going from you?

A. He came to me one day and said he had matter to
discuss that he hoped would be to both our advantages.

Q. When was this?

A. Toward the middle of the month. He said he was
invited to a party of pleasure in Oxfordshire, at a friend's estate,
where there was to be other rakes, and a prize given him who had
brought the finest whore, when all had tasted all. That with that and
other entertainments, 'twas to be a fortnight's folly. Which with the
travelling there and back, must mean three weeks. In the end that he
would hire Fanny from me for this time, if I would allow and name a
price for my discommodation by loss of her.

Q. He said where this estate was?

A. He would not. They would cause no scandal, all was
secret.

Q. How answered you?

A. I said I had never done such a thing. He said he
had been told I did. I said I might now and then send out upon terms
to gentlemen I well knew, to suppers and the like in town. That I did
not know him well, not even his true name.

Q. There was a false one he bore?

A. He called himself Mr Smith. Tho' now he said me
his true one that I knew already of Lord B . Then that he had spoken
of the diversion with Fanny, who was on her mettle and willing to the
sport; howsoever she told him all lay with me. I said I would think
on it, I could not decide on such a proposal at so short notice.

Q. How took he that?

A. He said that I knew now he lacked neither rank nor
wealth, and I must give that consideration. On which he went away.

Q. You came not to mention of terms?

A. Not then. He came again to Fanny a day or two
later, and after to me, by which time I had spoke to Lord B- and
asked if he knew of this party of pleasure. Which he said he did, he
was himself invited to it, tho' prevented by other business he could
not put off. That he was surprised I had no wind of it. That I should
be foolish to offend someone so great as a duke's son. That there was
butter in it for me, for I might name what price I liked for the
favour. And other matters.

Q. What other matters, woman?

A. That once done, gossip would spread news of the
folly, and fame attach to all who had a part in it. That Mistress
Wishbourne had promised two of her girls to it, and should steal a
march upon me.

Q. Who is Wishbourne?

A. An upstart keeper of the new Covent Garden house.

Q. You were persuaded?

A. I was his fool. The more fool me.

Q. Did you speak with the girl?

A. She said she was passing indifferent, she would do
as I pleased. But the cunning slut lied.

Q. How lied?

A. She was privy to all. She was practised in the
meek face, I was deceived by it. She was already bought to it.

Q. You have proof?

A. She has never come back, that's proof enough for
me. I have suffered great loss by her.

Q. Small loss to decency. I desire to know what the
flesh-rent was.

A. I put it upon three weeks' loss of her employment
in my house.

Q. How much?

A. Three hundred guineas.

Q. Did he baulk?

A. Why should he? He pays me that, and steals ten
thousand.

Q. Watch thy impudent tongue, woman!

A. It is true. For all her faults she was a delicate
good whore, barren, only three years' use.

Q. I say enough. What part of this was hers?

A. I dress, feed, find linen, all. And pay the
'pothecary, when they have the Barnwell ague.

Q. A fig for thy economy. I will know her share.

A. One fifth, beside what presents she might gain for
her self.

Q. Sixty guineas?

A. More than she deserved.

Q. Which you gave her?

A. I gave her nothing, till she returned.

Q. To oblige her to return?

A. Yes.

Q. And you hold it still for her?

A. I hold more than that for her.

Q. You have had no word from her since she left?