Moll Davis: a comedy - Bernard Capes

Moll Davis: a comedy

A COMEDY
By BERNARD CAPES AUTHOR OF “THE LAKE OF WINE,” “A JAY OF ITALY,” ETC., ETC.
LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD. RUSKIN HOUSE MUSEUM STREET W.C.
First published in 1916
( All rights reserved )
Somewhere about the western angle now formed by the junction of Oxford Street and the Charing Cross Road, there stood in the year 1661 “The Mischief” Inn. It was a substantial building, consisting of two gabled sections, divided by a third and wider having a pent-roof, and forming with the others a deep recess, in whose ground quarters was plentiful accommodation for the stabling of horses. At the level of the first story ran a railed wooden balcony, common to all the bedrooms behind; and in the yard below were rough benches and trestle-tables disposed about, where customers might forgather to discuss, over their pipes and purl, such topics as went seasonably with them—it might be his popular Majesty’s latest roguery, or “Old Mob’s,” almost as great a thief and favourite.
“The Mischief,” standing as it did on the great highway running east and west, formed a convenient terminus for travellers journeying from the contiguous wilds of Berkshire and Wiltshire, the majority of whom, for reasons of economy, came by “waggon.” This was a vast road craft, with a tilt, and tyres to its wheels a foot wide, whose consistent record of progress never exceeded three miles to the hour. It was drawn commonly by six sturdy roadsters in double harness, and bearing yokes with swinging bells at the hames of their collars; and time was never of the essence of its contract. But it was safe, if slow, being well prepared and armed against surprises, which were by no means of infrequent occurrence by the days-long way, especially as London was approached.
Oxford Street itself, indeed, bore a villainous reputation. It stretched somewhat on the borders of the town, with wild and wooded country going northwards from it, and was handy therefore to the gentry whose profession it was to cut purses from the skirts of civilization. Latterly, its heterogeneous domiciles had shown a tendency to increase and multiply, and, by adding to their number on either side the way, to extend the boundaries of the comparative security which obtained about the central regions of Westminster and Whitehall. But it was still a perilous district, the very expression and moral of which appeared epitomized in the sign which swung on a high gallows, beside a wooden water-trough, before the front of our inn, and which depicted a poor unhappy citizen bearing upon his suffering shoulders a drunken scold. In the neighbourhood of the building clustered, like disreputable relations, a knot of tenements, which included a pawnbroker’s and a gin-shop; and southwards from it zigzagged a muddy bridle-way—known appropriately as Hog Lane—which, traversing a motley course, half town, half rookery, debouched finally upon the village of Charing, where in an open place stood the monument with its gilt cross.

Bernard Capes
О книге

Язык

Английский

Год издания

2023-01-06

Темы

Historical fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction

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