Retrieving the pitchfork, Tristram headed for the church at a speed that paid little heed to his injured leg. Arriving at the churchyard gate he was dismayed to see the grazing cattle had moved from the back of the church to the side. Among them was the bull, a large shorthorn-cross animal that appeared to have something of its owner’s make-up in its temperament.
When it became aware of Tristram’s presence at the lych-gate the animal raised its heavy head to look at him warily through bloodshot eyes, making Tristram uncomfortably aware that the ancient warped gate that stood between him and the one ton weight of the bull was only the flimsiest of barriers.
He would have liked to open the lych-gate and enter the church in order to warn Eliza of the danger she was in, instructing her to remain inside the building until the cattle could be removed from the churchyard, but he realised it would be impossible to reach the church in safety.
He was still pondering on what could be done when David Kilpeck arrived from the rectory, closely followed by Alice, with a breathless Percy trailing a long way behind.
‘Have you seen Eliza?’ The deeply concerned cleric put the question to Tristram.
‘She must still be inside the church and probably has no idea that there’s a bull in the churchyard, and I can think of no way to let her know. If we call to her she’ll come out of the church and that’s the very last thing we want to happen.’
Arriving in time to hear most of Tristram’s statement, Alice said, ‘Can’t we do what we did before, turn them loose and let Eval Moyle worry about finding them again?’
‘No,’ Tristram said firmly. ‘Percy told me all about what happened then, but they were young animals, with no harm in them. We‘ve got a bull here, and it’s one with a bad reputation. Turn him out in the lane and he’ll likely kill anyone he meets up with. He’s best where he is for now but we’ve somehow got to stop Eliza from coming out of the church.’
‘But how?’ Alice asked, deeply distressed by the danger Eliza was in.
Tristram countered her question with another. ‘How long is what Eliza’s doing in the church likely to keep her occupied?’
‘Probably no more than another fifteen minutes. Why?’
‘We can’t risk having her come out while the bull is still this close.’ Turning to the still breathless Percy who had just arrived on the scene, he said, ‘I want you to go back to the hay wagon as quickly as you can and bring back as much hay as you can carry – the more the better. Carry it high alongside the wall so that the cattle can see it and they’ll hopefully follow you. When you reach the far corner of the churchyard – as far from the lych-gate as you can possibly go – throw it over the wall to them then go back for some more.’
‘How will that help?’ This time the question came from David.
‘If Eliza comes out she won’t be expecting the cows – and the bull – to be in the churchyard and if the bull sees her and charges it will take her completely by surprise, but if Percy can draw the cows away from the church door the bull will follow. It will give me a chance to get to the church and warn her.’
‘What if the bull sees you?’ Alice queried. ‘You have a bad leg and could not possibly outrun it.’
‘I can if I choose my moment. It’s sweet, new hay and I’m counting on the bull being just as eager to get at it as the cows. Once its head down among them I should be halfway to the church before it sees me, and inside with the door closed before it can get there.’
‘How will that help?’ Alice asked. ‘All it means is that we’ll have two of you trapped inside instead of one.’
‘There are quite a few cows in there and it won’t take them long to eat the first lot of hay. When it’s gone and they start drifting away Percy can carry the second lot along there and let them see him doing it. There’s that tiny slit window up by the altar in the church, from there I’ll be able to see what’s going on. When the bull’s fully occupied once more Eliza and me’ll come running out of the church – fast! One of you will need to be ready to open the gate for us and then close it again quickly once we’re safe.’
‘What about your bad leg?’ Alice was still doubtful. ‘From all I have heard a bull has a surprising turn of speed when it charges.’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Tristram spoke with more confidence than he was feeling, ‘I’ll be all right, I’m not unused to dealing with bulls. It’s Eliza we have to think about. She has no experience with country animals and is too fearless for her own good. She’ll probably think she can just shoo it away like most other animals.’
Alice went cold at the scenario Tristram’s words conjured up, but it was David who replied to him.
‘You are quite right, Tristram. I’ll go with Percy and help with the second load of hay while you carry on with your plan but be careful, be very careful – and may God be with you.’
The first part of Tristram’s plan worked better than could have been anticipated. It seemed an interminable time before Percy returned with the first load of hay, but as he walked slowly along the lane beside the churchyard with his load in plain view of the cows, they trotted to the wall, following his progress from inside.
Percy threw the hay into the corner of the churchyard and the cows crowded it, the bull among them. Hurriedly opening the lych-gate, Tristram ran for the church door as fast as his injured leg would allow. For all his earlier bravado, he was aware that if the bull saw him early enough it was doubtful if he would be able to outrun the powerful animal.
As it happened, the dash to the church door was without incident, the bull remained head down among the cows, mouthing the sweet-smelling hay, and did not even see him.
Rushing through the door and slamming it shut behind him, Tristram was confronted by a startled Eliza. Looking up at him in alarm from the cover she was stitching into place around a hassock, she demanded, ‘What’s the matter? Why did you come in like that?’
Greatly relieved to have reached the safety of the tiny church, Tristram realised he was grinning like a half-wit. ‘I’ve come to warn you. Moyle has put his cows in the churchyard again, but there’s a bull with them this time. They must have been behind the church when you came in, so you wouldn’t have seen them.’
Unaware of the full significance of his words, Eliza said scornfully, ‘I’m not frightened of a few old cows. They sometimes come up to the wall behind the kitchen garden and I give them a cabbage leaf or two. They may be big, but they’re gentle enough.’
‘The cows might be but the bull certainly isn’t. He’s big, mean and dangerous. We’ve got to get you safely out of here, then see what can be done to get the bull out of the churchyard.’
‘I haven’t finished fitting the new covers on these hassocks yet.’
‘They can wait,’ Tristram said firmly. ‘The most important thing right now is to get you out of here. Miss Alice is waiting by the lych-gate and Reverend Kilpeck and Percy should be there soon.’
Leaving Eliza, he hurried to the window at the rear of the church. Looking out, he saw that the cattle had already eaten most of the hay brought by Percy on his first journey from the hay wagon and there was as yet no sign of him or David Kilpeck returning with more.
He told Eliza of the plan they had formulated for getting her to safety and although he spoke of it as matter-of-factly as he was able, Eliza began to realise just how serious was her predicament and what might have happened had not Tristram come to warn her.
‘Are all bulls as dangerous as you are making them out to be?’ She asked.
‘Only a fool would trust one,’ Tristram replied. ‘Almost all the deaths on farms are the result of someone thinking a bull they might have known for years can be trusted. It can’t – and Eval Moyle’s bull is as bad-tempered as its owner. Reverend Kilpeck won’t let Moyle get away with this and neither will a magistrate. Moyle will be in big trouble, and deservedly so.’
Eliza had been giving Tristram an increasingly wide-eyed look as he spoke and now she said, ‘But … if this
bull is so dangerous, didn’t you take a big risk by coming through the churchyard to warn me about him? Especially with that bad leg of yours?’
‘Somebody needed to do it.’ Tristram was discomfited by Eliza’s intimation that he had done something particularly courageous on her behalf. ‘Anyway, bad leg or not, I can outrun Percy – and can you imagine Reverend Kilpeck running anywhere, for whatever reason?’
David Kilpeck was not a man given to moving anywhere very fast and was prone to stop and think before doing anything out of the ordinary.
Glancing through the slit window again, Tristram said, ‘Ah! Here’s Percy now. Go to the church door and, when I shout open it and run for the lych-gate as though the Devil himself is after you … No, leave the hassock covers in the church, just take yourself.’
‘But what about you?’
‘Eliza! Just do as I say, but leave the door open when you run out, I’ll be right behind you.’
There was such urgency in his voice that Eliza questioned him no further. No sooner had she reached the church door than Tristram said, ‘Percy and Reverend Kilpeck are walking slowly along the lane and the cows are following. I can’t see the bull … yes I can! He’s following the cows. Get ready, but don’t go until I say so, we want him to be right among them before we make a move.’
Waiting with her hand on the iron ring of the door latch, the full danger of the situation hit home to Eliza. She had never knowingly seen a bull and had no idea just how powerfully-built they were, but she had seen cows in the fields around the rectory. Although seemingly docile they were large and she could imagine them being dangerous if they were angry. She suddenly felt fear for the first time.
She was startled out of her thoughts by the shout from Tristram, ‘Now! Go … go … GO!’
The time for thinking was over. Eliza flung open the door and ran. Looking straight ahead at the lych-gate she resisted the urge to glance to where she knew the cattle were feeding upon the hay.
Because of this she was unaware that Eval Moyle’s bull had raised its huge head at the very moment she lifted the latch of the church door and began her desperate run. Moving with remarkable speed for such a large and heavy animal, the bull set off across the turf of the churchyard after her.
Coming out from the church, Tristram was horrified by what he saw. Realising the bull was gathering speed and would catch Eliza before she reached safety and without pausing to think of the possible consequences of his actions he set off after Eliza at the same time shouting, ‘Faster, Eliza … run faster!’
He began waving his arms wildly in a frenzied attempt to distract the bull and his tactics succeeded only too well.
The bull’s attention switched from the fleeing girl to what it perceived as a more immediate threat to its well-being. Hardly slackening speed it veered away from Eliza and headed for Tristram!
It was the sheer speed of the aggressive animal that saved Tristram in this first charge. Instinctively jumping to one side when the bull was almost upon him, he succeeded in dodging it as it thundered past.
Wasting no time in dwelling upon his good fortune, Tristram resumed his limping run towards the gate and safety, observing as he did so that it was being held open to let Eliza through.
The aggressive bull, failing to run down its intended victim in its initial charge tried to turn too quickly and slipped on the churchyard grass, its front legs buckling beneath it, allowing Tristram to increase the distance between them.
Nevertheless, in spite of frantic vocal encouragement from those watching his flight from the safety of the lane, Tristram’s lameness handicapped him in his attempt to outrun the pursuing animal and, aware at the very last moment that the animal was upon him once more, he leapt to one side yet again – but this time fortune was not with him.
He successfully avoided being knocked down and trampled by the aggressive animal but a swing of the bull’s great head struck him and sent him tumbling head-over-heels across the grass to crash heavily against the stone wall, tantalisingly close to the safety of the gate.
This time the bull slid to a halt and turned without losing its balance and, head down, came back at his victim.
Tristram was lying parallel with the wall and tight to its base and it was this that saved him from the bull’s determined attempt to gore him as its horns clashed against the stonework.
Then, letting out a sudden snort of pain, the bull swung around, away from Tristram as the prongs of a pitchfork, wielded over the wall by a fearful but determined Eliza, sank into its haunches.
Quick to seize the unexpected reprieve from the bull’s attentions, Tristram managed to scramble to the safety of the lych-gate, where he was hurriedly hauled to safety by Alice and her brother and the gate slammed shut behind him.
‘Are you alright?’ The anxious question came from a concerned Alice.
‘I am now.’ Seated on the ground outside the lych-gate, Tristram rubbed his upper arm which had struck the wall when he was thrown against it by the bull. ‘I am going to have a fair bruise there, but nothing worse … thanks to Eliza.’
He nodded to where she stood shaking but triumphant, still clutching the pitchfork.
‘Lieutenant Kendall once said she was a very resourceful girl,’ Alice declared, ‘and she has proved it once again. Your actions were very brave too, Tristram, you undoubtedly saved Eliza’s life.’
Looking at her brother who seemed bewildered by the events of the last couple of minutes, she added, ‘We are most fortunate to have two such young people in our employ, David. Now I think we should all return to the rectory and have a strong cup of tea, then find the constable. He can deal with Mr Moyle and have his animals removed from the churchyard.’
The cattle were removed from the churchyard the following day but not by Eval Moyle. A neighbouring farmer and his grown-up son eventually succeeded in leading the bull away with the aid of a rope passed through the ring in its nose, and they subsequently purchased a number of the cows when they were sold off after being impounded and not claimed within the requisite time.
Of Eval Moyle there was no sign. As a result, he could not be brought to account for turning his animals loose in the churchyard, but if he had run away as a result of the warrant that was issued for his arrest in respect of the riot that took place in Truro, he had left the area unnecessarily.
When those who had been arrested came to court, the case was dismissed, a clever defence lawyer pointing out that the wording of the Riot Act stated that if those involved dispersed within an hour of the Act being read out by a magistrate, it was no longer a riot – and that is what had happened.
As a result, all those involved in the Truro disturbance went free, it being impossible to prove who among them was actually involved in the assault of the constables, and it not being considered worthwhile pursuing the matter any further.
Soon afterwards rumours began to circulate that Moyle had gone to America where it was believed Primitive Methodism was gaining a strong following. No doubt Moyle would be accepted there, for a while, at least.
Meanwhile, his land was being farmed by his long-suffering younger brother who had always been a partner in the farm left to them by their father but had been overshadowed by his domineering brother. Alone on the farm, he was at pains to remain at peace with his neighbours.
For now it was enough that Cornwall was rid of Eval Moyle.
Book Two
Chapter One
1843
THREE YEARS HAD elapsed since Eliza’s rescue from the rocks at the sea’s edge below the Cornish cliffs. Three happy and settled years, which had passed quickly at Trethevy.
Although it would never be possible for her to forget the manner of her arrival in the Kilpeck household, the memory of life before that time had receded to such an extent that it was almost as though all that had gone before had happened to someone else.
Eliza Brooks was no more. She had died with the other women convicts on board the doomed Cormorant.
Reverend David Kilpeck, in particular, ensured that their relationship remained within the bounds of ‘propriety’, but recently he had raised no objections to them walking out together on a Sunday afternoon, when both were freed from their duties to the rector and his sister, and had dutifully attended morning service in the Trethevy church.
*
It was the young couple who were the subject of Alice and David’s conversation now, as brother and sister travelled by pony and trap to Tintagel Church, where David was to conduct evensong.
Along the way they overtook Eliza and Tristram, who were also on their way to the same church to witness the baptism of a workhouse baby when the service was over.
After waves were exchanged, David, always anxious to be seen to be ‘doing the right thing’, asked Alice anxiously, ‘Do you think I should have offered them a ride to church? It seems rather mean to leave them walking when we have room in the trap for them.’
‘They would not thank you for such a suggestion and were holding hands before they heard us coming along behind them,’ Alice replied. ‘They enjoy each other’s company and I give them little opportunity to spend time with each other at the rectory.’
‘As is right and proper,’ David declared, pompously. ‘There is far too much immorality in the parish. I don’t think I have married one girl in the past year who has not been enceinte when she walks down the aisle. It is quite scandalous. I expect our staff at Trethevy to set an example.’
Smiling to herself at her brother’s reluctance to use the word ‘pregnant’ when describing the brides being married in his church, Alice said, ‘I have spoken to Eliza on the subject and am confident she will not let you down, David. Tristram too is an honourable young man, we have been extremely fortunate in our choice of servants, but that reminds me, there is a fair at Camelford next month and Tristram has asked for permission to take Eliza there. I have said he might, subject to your consent, of course.’
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