But at morning dawn the good ship still was there, to the surprise of all. However, the captain was to have a warning. As he was looking over the stern, and laughing at the story, the steersman saw him suddenly turn pale and fix his eyes upon the water, then running by at the rate of about five knots. The crew hurried forward, and lo and behold! there arose close to the ship a merman, a very respectable-looking person, in Sunday clothes and with his hair powdered, who desired the captain to carry his vessel from the place, because "his anchor had dropt exactly against his hall door, and prevented his family from going to church."
The whole history is well known at Deptford, Rotherhithe, and places adjacent; and it finishes, by saying, that the captain, scoffing at the request, the merman took his leave with an angry expression on his countenance, a storm came on in the night, and nothing of captain, crew, or ship, as ever heard of more.
But the spot is boundless in legendary lore. A prediction which had for centuries puzzled all the readers of Mother Shipton, was delivered by her in the small dwelling whose ruins are still visible on the Wapping shore. The prophecy was as follows:--
Eighteene hundred thirty-five, Which of us shall be alive? Many a king shall ende his reign; Many a knave his ende shall gain; Many a statesman be in trouble; Many a scheme the worlde shall bubble; Many a man shall selle his vote; Many a man shall turne his coat. Righte be wronge, and wronge be righte, By Westminster's candle-lighte. But, when from the top of Bow Shall the dragon stoop full low. When from church of holy Paul Shall come down both crosse and ball. When all men shall see them meete On the land, yet by the Fleet. When below the Thamis bed Shall be seen the furnace red; When its bottom shall drop out, Making hundreds swim about, Where a fishe had never swum, Then shall doleful tidings come. Flood and famine, woe and taxe, Melting England's strength like waxe; Till she fights both France and Spain, Then shall all be well again!
I shall have an infinite respect for Mother Shipton in future. All was amply verified. The repairs of St Paul's, in the year stated, required that the cross and ball should be taken down, which was done accordingly. Bow Church, whose bells are supposed to thrill the _intima præcordia_ of every Londoner's memory in every part of the globe, happening to be in the same condition, the dragon on the spire was also taken down, and cross, ball, and dragon, were sent to a coppersmith's, in Ludgate Hill, beside the Fleet prison, where they were to be seen by all the wondering population, lying together. The third feature of the wisdom of Mother Shipton was fulfilled with equal exactitude. The Thames Tunnel had been pushed to the middle of the river's bed, when, coming to a loose portion of the clay, the roof fell in; the Thames burst through its own bottom, the Tunnel was instantly filled, and the workmen were forced to swim for their lives. The remainder of the oracle, partly present, is undeniable while we have an income tax, and the _finale_ may be equally relied on, to the honour of the English Pythonness.
