The History of Margaret Catchpole, a Suffolk GirlCobbold, Richard
General
The History of Margaret Catchpole, a Suffolk Girl
Cobbold, Richard
Catchpole, Margaret, 1762-1819 -- Fiction
When they arrived at Chelmsford, through a misdirection of some person,
they were told that the same horse was seen going on to Maldon, in the
hundreds of Essex; and they had just given the post-boy orders to turn
off the London road in pursuit, as Mr. Alston, of Diss, rode into the
yard of the Black Boy as the pursuers were in the act of getting into
the chaise.
"Pray, sir, may I be so bold as to ask if you came far along the London
road?"
"I left town this morning, and am now on my journey to Manningtree. Why
do you ask?"
"Because I am in pursuit of a thief. You did not chance to meet a man
riding a strawberry roan carriage-horse?"
"Yes, I did; and remarked at the time that I thought it was the finest
shaped horse I had ever seen. He was a crop, with high action and bold
crest."
"It is the very horse! Whereabouts might you meet him, sir?"
"I met him I should say about five miles on the other side of Romford,
near to Ilford. It was about nine o'clock. I remarked to myself, what a
fool the lad must be who was riding him, that he did not manage to
fasten his overalls down at his ankles, as I could see his stockings up
to his knees. Some gentleman I thought was sending him into livery
stables."
"We are greatly obliged to you, sir. On, boy, on!" and the post-chaise
dashed out of the yard.
But for the accidental meeting of Mr. Alston it is very probable
Margaret would have escaped; but the information thus given put the
pursuers on the right scent, just in the right time.
Meantime let us accompany Margaret on her perilous expedition. She had
actually ridden the horse from Ipswich to London in the space of eight
hours and a half; it being seventy miles from that place to the Bull, in
Aldgate. She only stopped once on the road, at a small public-house,
called the Trowel and Hammer, at Marks Tey, in Essex; here she gave her
gallant horse a feed of corn, and had a glass of brandy and water and a
biscuit. It was just five o'clock when she baited. She dared not to
offer the horse for sale at Chelmsford for fear of detection, at such an
early hour. She felt persuaded that a pursuit would be made, and hoped
to hide herself in the metropolis before her pursuers could reach her.
Accordingly she allowed the horse no more time than was sufficient for
him to finish his corn, and off she went again for nearly five hours'
further ride. As she approached town many were the eyes directed towards
her, both on account of the remarkable character of the horse, and the
singular appearance of the rider. Margaret took no notice of any one,
but pushed on her willing steed with the same indifference as if she had
been sent upon an errand of only a few miles; nor was the horse
apparently fatigued in the least when they arrived at the Bull Inn,
which they did about half-past nine o'clock.
She rode quietly down the yard, called for the ostler, dismounted, shook
her trousers down, and addressed the man in as off-hand a manner as if
she were a real groom.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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