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
"And get a halter for your pains! No, Will; no, my boy; you are made of
sterner stuff than that. What! for the sake of a girl whom you may have
for many a cruise, and who will like you all the better for your spirit,
would you consent to run the land-robber's risk of being hanged? You
will soon have a new cutter, and your old crew; and though we may have a
long voyage, surely it will be far better to have your damsel with you,
though she may be unwilling at first, than to be living ashore in
continual fear of the officers of justice."
"But Margaret supposes me at this moment in a foreign ship, and in an
honest trader."
"Let her think so still. Only once get her on board the _Stour_, and
never trust me if we don't quickly run over to Holland, get you decently
married, and you may settle with her on shore in a short time."
"Well, Luff, I think it might be done, and fairly, too; and if it be,
you shall have half my share of the prize upon the next run."
"'Tis a bargain--'tis a bargain! and when we next meet in Bawdsey Cave,
our first trip shall be for the harbour. In the meantime, let us enjoy
ourselves as we can."
The Green Cottage just mentioned, was one of those places hired by
Captain Bargood, on the eastern coast, which was always kept neat, and
ready for his occupation, by a dame whom he permitted to live in it
rent-free, and paid her something extra too for housekeeping. This was a
place of resort for his captains when out of immediate employ, when his
ships were repairing or building, at home or abroad. The method he took
to secure their services, and to keep them in readiness for the sea, was
to initiate them into the mysteries of poaching when on land.
So well did this bold fellow play his cards, that his men seldom wanted
employment.
Game they always had, in season or out of season--no matter--they stuck
at nothing! If they wished for a good custard at Whitsuntide, and made
of the richest eggs, they would have pheasants' and partridges' eggs by
hundreds. In fact these smugglers were as well known for poachers by
many of the people on the coast, as they were for dealers in contraband
goods. They, too, enjoyed the keen zest of the sportsman in a tenfold
manner, if the excitement of the field, the danger of the enterprise,
and the success of the sport, be any criterion by which the pleasure of
such things may be estimated.
Tame, indeed, they considered the turn-out of the Marquis of Hertford,
with his green-brogued keepers, and their double-barrelled guns and
brushes, for a walk, or rather a stand, at the end of a plantation,
where the pheasants rose in a shower, and were killed like barn-door
fowls. They often saw the noble sportsmen turn into those coverts,
against which they knew they had been such successful poachers the very
night before.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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