‘That would make me happy, sir, and Miss Alice too, I’m sure.’
Camelford fair was all, and more, than Tristram had promised Eliza it would be. As the Kendall carriage neared the small market town which unevenly straddled the River Camel, it passed a great many men, women and children heading in the same direction.
Most of those they met with on the road stood politely to one side as the carriage passed by, but shortly before entering the town it was almost forced to a halt by a large group of marching men carrying banners and lustily singing a Methodist hymn.
When they were eventually clear of the group, Eliza asked, ‘Who were they, did they belong to the fair?’
Jory smiled, ‘I doubt it, the banners were proclaiming the evils of drink and encouraging men to join the temperance movement. They must intend holding a rally at the fair. It could cause trouble. A great many men, and some women too, see fair day as an opportunity to get very drunk. It is a good day for the publicans, their premises stay open for as long as there are drinking men left with money in their pockets and if the temperance men are too vociferous it is not unknown for publicans to offer free beer to their customers to chase them away from their premises.’
At that moment Tristram’s face appeared at the open window as he precariously hung down from the roof of the carriage and called, ‘Did you see who was leading the temperance men?’
When both occupants answered in the negative, he shouted, ‘It was Eval Moyle. I’d say he’s on his way to make trouble at the fair.’
When Tristram disappeared from view, Jory said, ‘With any luck Moyle will get himself arrested again. The Camelford mayor has brought a police sergeant and two constables from London to deal with any trouble at the fair. They won’t put up with any nonsense from Moyle.’
‘It’s a pity he didn’t stay in America,’ Eliza said, ‘but perhaps he caused trouble there too.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Jory replied, ‘I have heard that he is in fact very happy there and has come home to persuade his brother to sell their farm and return to America with him. It is said that with the proceeds from the farm he intends building a chapel there.’
‘I hope he succeeds in selling it quickly and goes away again,’ Eliza said. ‘He gives me the shivers.’
‘Hopefully he will be far too busy saving sinners to trouble you or Tristram,’ Jory said, optimistically, ‘and here we are at the fair now. I will show you and Tristram where my recruiting booth is and we will meet up there at the end of the day for the journey back to Trethevy.’
Chapter Eleven
THE FAIR WAS every bit as exciting as Tristram had predicted and it seemed to her that every man, woman and child in North Cornwall must be there.
The young couple walked around the fair for more than an hour, taking everything in before they began spending the money they had, which had been supplemented by a generous gift of ten shillings each from Alice Kilpeck, in recognition of their ‘loyal service’ to Reverend Kilpeck and herself over the last three years.
They first visited the ‘menagerie’, which contained a couple of lions and a skeletal tiger, confined in cages in which they paced back and forth ceaselessly, the tiger baring yellow teeth in a ferocious snarl when prodded by a farmer’s walking stick. The farmer, who had declared the animal to be ‘No more’n a oversize farm cat’, complained bitterly to the menagerie owner when, much to the delight of the watching crowd, the animal seized the offending stick and happily began chewing it into small pieces.
When Tristram and Eliza left the large marquee the farmer was demanding that the menagerie owner reimburse him for the value of his walking stick, while the animal owner was threatening to sue the farmer if his ‘valuable’ animal became ill through eating it.
Next they saw a dancing brown bear wearing a studded collar to which was attached a short chain, secured to a heavy stake driven into the ground. Its owner turned the handle of a hurdy-gurdy while the unhappy bear shuffled clumsily, swaying from side to side.
The sight upset Eliza who said the bear looked ‘sad’.
She cheered up when Tristram took her to watch a marionette show which included dancing puppet cats and dogs as well as the gaudily dressed dolls.
At midday, Tristram treated Eliza to boiled-roast goose at one of the many refreshment booths. It was a delicious meal in which the bird had first been boiled and then roasted over an open fire until browned. It was the first time Eliza had tasted the delicacy and she enthused about it.
While they were eating, Tristram became suddenly serious and asked, ‘You haven’t forgotten your promise to me, Eliza?’
‘Promise?’ Feigning puzzlement, she said, ‘What promise?’
‘You have forgotten! You promised me …’
Seeing her mischievous smile, he said accusingly, ‘You’re teasing me, Eliza, that was cruel.’
‘Yes, it was,’ She agreed, ‘but I don’t want to tell you right here and now and have you do something silly in front of all these people.’
He looked bewildered for a few moments, then, as enlightenment came to him he looked at her with increasing delight, ‘You mean…? Does that mean the answer is “Yes”? You will marry me?’
‘It means I’ll give you my answer before the day is out, but somewhere a little more private than in the midst of so many people.’
Tristram was confident from her enigmatic reply that he knew what her answer was going to be and, grinning happily, he took her extended hand and allowed her to lead him to where a group of red-faced and perspiring bandsmen were doing their best to drown out the voices of perhaps a hundred Primitive Methodists who were singing hymns at the tops of their voices in a counter-bid to swamp the sound of the brass instruments and their rendering of more popular songs of the day.
Jory Kendall’s recruiting booth was nearby and the contest between brass band and Methodists was amusing him. After telling the young Trethevy couple that he had already signed on a satisfactory number of potential coast guards, mainly ex-royal navy sailors, he commented on the musical battle taking place between singers and band.
‘At least this is a peaceful contest. I don’t think the gathering of the temperance campaigners will pass off as peacefully. They are a target for the hard-drinking men at the fair, mostly miners and more and more of them seem to be arriving by the minute. The London police have reinforcements from local and special constables, but they will be hard put to contain the miners if fighting begins. I suggest you both keep well clear of them.’
Fighting did break out between the two groups, but the London police sergeant was experienced in such brawls and succeeded in containing it before it got out of hand.
He was aware that if he arrested any of the drunken miners and locked them up, their colleagues would undoubtedly combine to break them free. Instead, he and his men arrested them in a firm, no-nonsense manner and ejected them from the fair, with a warning that if they returned and caused trouble they would be taken before the special magistrates’ court which was at that moment sitting in the town, and conveyed immediately to Bodmin gaol to serve out what would undoubtedly be a harsh sentence.
His tactics worked and serious trouble between drinkers and abstainers was avoided.
However, there were other law-breakers in the festive crowd who were not so easily deterred and Eliza and Tristram found themselves caught up in their activities as darkness fell over the fair.
The young couple had briefly parted company, Eliza pausing to examine the goods on a stall exhibiting bonnets, gloves and handkerchiefs, while Tristram, ostensibly seeking a folding gardeners’ knife to take back for Old Percy, had actually returned to a stall where, among the cheap jewellery offered for sale was a small silver heart, suspended on a delicate silver chain.
Eliza had admired it and he intended buying it as a present to seal their betrothal when, as he fervently hoped, she would consent to marry him. In addition to the money given to him by Alice he had more, saved from his pay especiall
y for this purpose.
Returning to where he had left Eliza, they had just come within sight of each other when a woman with a revealing low-cut bodice, stumbled and fell against Tristram as she attempted to hurry past. When he held out his arm to prevent her from falling to the ground, she said, in an accent that was not Cornish, ‘I’m sorry, young sir, it’s not like me to be so clumsy.’ Laughing up at him, she added, ‘It must be the gin my friend has been giving me, I’m not used to it!’
The fumes from her breath tended to confirm her statement and, smiling at her, Tristram said, ‘That’s alright, m’dear, no harm done and it’s what fair day is all about.’
At that moment Eliza, who had hurried through the crowd, pushing people out of her way, reached them and, grabbing the woman as she turned away from Tristram, she cried, ‘Oh no you don’t! I saw your hand go into his pocket and take his purse.’
Trying to free herself from Eliza’s grip the woman said, ‘What d’you mean? I’ve done nothing of the bleedin’ sort. Search me if you don’t believe me.’
‘She won’t find anything if she does,’ the voice was that of one of the London policemen who appeared on the scene with a firm grip on the collar of a nondescript, weasel-featured little man. In his other hand he held a purse, and he added, ‘… because I have the purse here.’
While the constable was talking, an increasingly dismayed Tristram had been fumbling in the pockets of his fustian jacket and now he exclaimed, ‘That’s my purse. She must have taken it when she fell against me and passed it to him, though I didn’t see her do it!’
‘She did it alright, I saw her.’ This from Eliza.
‘She’s lying,’ the woman pickpocket cried, ‘I’ve never seen the purse before – or him, neither.’ She indicated the weasel-faced man.
‘I’ve never seen her, either,’ said the man in question, ‘and that purse you’re holding belongs to me.’
‘Then you’ll be able to tell me how much is in it,’ said the constable, giving the man a non-too-gentle shaking as he was speaking.
‘What do you think is in it?’ retorted the woman’s accomplice. ‘It’s money, of course, but before you ask me how much is there, I don’t know. I’ve been spending on me dinner and more pints of ale than I remember.’
‘How about you, lad,’ the policeman addressed Tristram, ‘Can you tell me how much is in it?’
‘Not exactly,’ Tristram confessed, ‘but you’ll find a silver heart and chain in there, I’ve just bought it for Eliza and this woman must have seen me count my money out when I was paying for it.’
Handing the purse to Tristram, the constable said, ‘Open it up and show us, lad.’
Tristram opened the purse and drew out the necklace.
‘You still say it’s yours?’ The constable asked triumphantly, addressing the man he was holding and giving him a teeth-rattling shaking once again.
‘I’m not saying nothing,’ said his prisoner, sulkily.
At that moment the London police sergeant put in an appearance. Greeting the prisoner he said, cheerfully, ‘Hello, Archie, you been up to your old tricks again?’
Recognising defeat, the prisoner’s shoulders sagged and, downcast, he said, ‘Ain’t it just my luck to run into you? I thought I’d seen the last of you when I left London.’
‘Well you thought wrong, Archie, we’re getting everywhere these days.’
Turning to the woman, the sergeant said, ‘It’s a pleasure to be meeting up with you again too, Maudie, especially as you seem to have teamed up with Archie. You’ve earned your pay today, constable. Maudie Huggins is one of the most skilful dips in the business. Them as knows say she can take a ring off a woman’s finger without her even knowing it!’
‘That’s all in the past,’ the woman protested in a whining voice. ‘I’m an honest woman now and,’ indicating her accomplice, she added, ‘I’ve never seen him in all my life – but I’ve seen her!’
Pointing a finger at Eliza, who had released her hold on her when the sergeant arrived, Maudie said, ‘She was on the same hulk as me at Woolwich, where they sent me for a year because they had no more room in Newgate.’
Jerking a thumb at Tristram, she added, ‘It was him calling her Eliza that jogged my memory. We all felt sorry for her on the hulk ’cos she was no more than thirteen and had been sentenced to be transported.’
Sceptical, the sergeant said, ‘Is that right? Tell us, Maudie, when was this?’
‘I don’t know, two or three years ago, I suppose.’
‘Then what’s she doing here now? Did they turn her around as soon as she reached Australia and send her back again because she was so young?’
‘How should I know that, but I saw her being taken off the hulk to start the journey there.’
‘Perhaps she flew back here just for the summer, like a swallow.’ Sniffing the air close to her face, the sergeant said, ‘You’ve been drinking too much gin, Maudie, you’d do well to leave it alone, you’ve started imagining things.’
‘Of course she has,’ Tristram said, indignantly, ‘Eliza and me work for Reverend Kilpeck at Trethevy. We’ve both been there for years.’
‘I might have been drinking,’ Maudie said, angrily, ‘but drink ain’t affected me eyesight, or me memory. She’s the one you should be nicking, not me.’
‘Well, you’ll have plenty of time to feel hard done by, Maudie, you and Archie are going straight before the magistrate and you’ll no doubt be going back to the prison hulk, but this time you’ll end up going to Australia yourself.’
After searching Archie and recovering a surprising number of purses, the sergeant handed back Tristram’s purse to its rightful owner, saying, ‘We’ve already had reports of purses being taken and of someone answering Maudie’s description being involved, we won’t need yours. Thanks for your help, young man, and you too, young lady. We’ll deal with this pair now.’
With this the sergeant and constable handcuffed Maudie to Archie and marched them away.
To Tristram it had been an exciting incident and one he would relate with relish over the days and weeks ahead. His elation was not diminished even when he saw Eval Moyle standing at the front of the crowd who had gathered about them and realised he must have witnessed the whole incident and heard what had been said.
Eliza did not share his elation. Pale and shaken, she felt physically sick and, suddenly concerned, Tristram led her away to buy her a drink that he said would ‘perk her up.’
Chapter Twelve
THE DRINK HELPED but it was still a very subdued Eliza who asked, ‘Why did you spend your money on buying such a lovely necklace for me, Tristram?’
‘Because you are special and because I think we are going to look back on today as being special too. It was going to be a surprise for when you say you’ll marry me. I hope you will and that it’ll help you forget all about what happened back there.’
When Eliza made no immediate reply, Tristram showed his concern by saying, ‘You mustn’t let anything that pickpocket said upset you, Eliza. She just made up the story to take attention away from herself. Anyway, she’d had so much to drink I doubt if she’d have recognised her own mother if she saw her. The police sergeant knew that because he’d had dealings with her before, in London.’
Tristram’s words failed to have their intended result. Indeed, they actually made Eliza feel even worse and, arriving at a sudden decision, she said, ‘Can we leave the fair and go somewhere quiet for a while.’
‘Of course we can, then perhaps you’ll feel well enough to give me an answer, Eliza. It’s far more important than anything else that’s happened today. We’ll take a walk along by the river.’
They walked in silence to the river that ran through the small town and headed downstream along the river bank for a short distance, until noise from the fair became less obtrusive. Here, in the bright moonlight, they came upon a spot where a giant elm tree had been felled close to the path and Eliza suggested they should seat themselves on the st
ump which had been left protruding from the ground.
When they were seated, side by side, Tristram said eagerly, ‘Are you ready to give me an answer now, Eliza?’
‘I’m ready, but I have something to tell you first. When it’s said you might not want to marry me.’
He began to protest, but Eliza silenced him, firmly. ‘Please, Tristram, let me tell you what needs to be said before you say anything more.’
‘If that’s what you really want, but nothing you can say will make me change my mind.’
‘Not even if I were to tell you that everything that woman said about me is true? That she did see me on a prison hulk and that I was sentenced to transportation?’
Her bald statement left Tristram speechless for a great many moments. When he had recovered sufficiently, he said in a strangled voice, ‘You’re having a joke with me, Eliza, it can’t be true, you’ve been working at the rectory since you were fourteen.’
‘I was only thirteen when I was sentenced to seven years transportation for stealing three guineas from the husband of my employer.’
Tristram found it difficult to take in what Eliza was telling him, but eventually he said, ‘Did you take the money?’
‘Yes, but I didn’t steal it. There were about fifteen guinea pieces on his bedside table but I only took what was due to me in wages. If it hadn’t been for the way he was behaving towards me I wouldn’t have needed to try to get away from the house, but if I hadn’t gone right away I’d have been in even worse trouble, although it wouldn’t have been with the law. I’d have probably found myself expecting his baby.’
Belatedly accepting that Eliza was not playing a joke on him, Tristram queried, ‘Didn’t you tell that to the judge, or whoever it was who tried you?’
‘I told it to the constable who arrested me. Lady Calnan, my employer, knew too, but no one mentioned it in court.’
Still finding it difficult to fully accept her story, Tristram asked, ‘But if you were sentenced to be transported how did you escape – and you must have done, or you’d be on the other side of the world now?’
Beyond the Storm Page 16