by John Fowles
A. No, sir.
Q. Nor any of the others?
A. No, sir. 'Twas not spoken of.
Q. And yet you say there was more in it than meets the eye?
A. That he said nothing of it when we supped.
Q. What age was he?
A. He did say he was drummer-boy in a battle of '18, by which I did have him to be born, a year or two given, these thirty years past; to which also he might answer, by his present looks.
Q. And as to those - had he especial that you marked?
A. Save his mustachios, that he wore quilled, like the false Turk he was. For the general, did show more tall than short and carried more lard than meat beside, of which my table and cellar did bear the proving. For he did so eat and drink that my cook did call him, tho' then in jest, Sergeant Cut and Come-again.
Q. But a well-built fellow, in appearance?
A. More in the eye than truth, sir, or my name is not Puddicombe.
Q. What colour were his eyes?
A. Dark and quick, not as an honest man's.
Q. And he bore no scars, ancient wounds, I know not, that you saw?
A. No, sir.
Q. Nor was halt, or limped in his gait?
A. No, sir. Us doubts us now he had fought an inch, outside of taverns or in his cups.
Q. Very well. And the other fellow, this Dick? What of him?
A. Said not a word, sir. Since he could not. But I saw somewhat in his eye that Farthing was no more in his books than mine. For which I blame him not one whit, seeing he must dure that Farthing would use him for a Jack-a-Lent. For the rest, brisk to his work, so far as I could tell.
Q. And no lunatick?
A. He seemed simple, sir. Able for nothing beyond the doing of his duties. But rather a poor dog of a man than aught else. Poor dog for his wits, that is. A strapping fellow for his body, I would I had one such in my service. I think he meant no harm. For all they say now.
Q. Nor lecher, neither?
A. Farthing told tattle when he took water to the maid upstairs and was slow to come down again. Which us did credit a little then.
Q. He made no advances to your maids?
A. No, sir.
Q. And this maid they brought - what name had she?
A. A strange one, sir, that is after the king of France, God rot him. Louise, 'twas said, or some such.
Q. She was French?
A. No, sir, or not by her voice, that sounded of Bristow or thereabout. Tho' in manner, she was fine enough to be of France, such as I have heard tell. But Farthing said, 'twas these times the mode in London for such as she, that are lady's maids, to ape their betters.
Q. She came from London?
A. So 'twas given, sir.
Q. But she did speak as one born in Bristol, you say?
A. Yes, sir, and would sup in her room, like a lady, and not share it neither. Which we found strange. Farthing spoke great ill of her and her fine airs. In contrary my girl Dorcas said she spake kind, and made no great pretence of being other than she was. And said she would not sup below because she had the megrims, would rest, so asked to be excused. I fancy 'twas Farthing she could not abide, not us.
Q. What manner of looks had she?
A. Fair enough, sir, fair enough. A trifle pale and city sickly, but well featured, tho' small in flesh. I do not forget her eyes, that were brown and grave as hind or hare's - aye, that spake doubt of all. I mind not to have seen her once smile.
Q. What mean you by doubt of all, Master Puddicombe?
A. Why, sir, doubt of why she was come among us; as trout before oven, so say we here.
Q. She said little?
A. No, sir, except it be to Dorcas.
Q. Might she have been no maid, but a person of breeding in disguise?
A. Well, sir, some now think her such, some lady upon an adventure.
Q. An elopement, you would say?
A. I say nothing, sir. 'Tis Betty the cook and Mistress Puddicombe will have it so. And I can't decide, sir.
Q. Very well. Now I have an important question. Did what this rogue Farthing say of Mr Bartholomew fit his demeanour? Seemed he to be such, one who had lived above his fortune and was now- come, albeit against his will, to grovel at his aunt's feet?
A. I could not say, sir. He seemed one used to command, impatient in his manner. But no more than many young gentlemen are in these times.
Q. Did he seem truly a greater gentleman than you was led to believe, one who came from a finer world than his merchant uncle?
A. Why, he had the air and manner of a gentleman, sir. I can't say more. Unless it be they seeming spake no common voice. Mr Brown as of London, like enow; but he his nephew, what little he said, it did sound of more northern parts, somewhat as to your own, sir.
Q. He appeared to respect his uncle?
A. More in the seeming than the heart, sir. He took my best and largest chamber to himself, which I also counted strange at the time. I would look to Mr Brown for instructions, but it was his nephew that gave 'em. His uncle would see Mr Beckford, not he. And suchlike. Tho' 'twas done with politeness.
Q. Did he take much wine?
A. Neither, sir. A sneaker of punch when they came, a pint of burnt claret, a flask of best Canary with their supper. But that last still not empty when they left.
Q. Let us come to that. At what hour did they leave?
A. I would say soon after seven of the clock, sir. We were much occupied, it being May Day. I did not mark it in the particular.
Q. Who paid you the lodging?
A. Mr Brown.
Q. Handsomely?
A. Well enough. I bear no complaint there.
Q. And they took the Bideford road?
A. They did, sir. Leastways asked they my ostler Ezekiel directions for the leaving of the town thither.
Q. And you heard no more of them that day?
A. Only from some that had met them on their road here for the maying. Who did ask their business of me, supposing they had lodged by my roof.
Q. Out of mere curiosity?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. But no other news of their journeying that day?
A. No sir, not a word. Until that of the violet man, a sennight later.
Q. The which, what is he?
A. 'Tis how they named him, poor Dick, seeing they knew none other for him. But first, sir, I must say the mare. Of which I heard, without knowing what I heard. 'Twas late on the morrow, the second of May. One Barnecott of Fremington, that is badger and that I do know well of his trade these many years, did come by upon his business, and did speak of a loose horse on his way hither. He said, 'twas wild, would not be caught, and the hour pressing for him. So he gave up.
Q. What manner of horse?
A. An old bay pad-mare, sir. She wore no harness, no bridle nor saddle. He but said it idly in passing, thinking it run from its field. 'Tis nothing unaccustomed, our horses here are much mixed with the moorland kind, and such no more like being crimped in the one meadow than an Egyptian.
Q. This was the pack-horse?
A. As I know now, sir. But I took no account of it till the man Dick was found.
Q. How heard you of that?
A. From one who passed at Daccombe when his corse was brought on a hurdle.
Q. How far is Daccombe from here?
A. A good league, sir.
Q. And how and where was the body found?
A. By a shepherd-boy. In a great wood we call Cleave Wood, that stretches to the moor and is more steep than ne'er a man may walk in many places, more cleave than combe. He might have hung there seven years and not been found. If God had not willed it otherwise. 'Tis place fitter for polecats than human mortals.
Q. This is near where the horse was seen?
A. A mile above the road, sir, where it was seen.
Q. And this tale of violets?
A. Is true, sir. 'Twas all said at the inquisition. I have spaken with one who went to cut the corse down and carry it back befo
re 'twas staked and buried at Daccombe Cross. He said 'twas a tuft torn up by its roots, stuffed in the poor man': mouth before he took his last leap, and still bloomed as green as on a bank. 'Twas taken as witchcraft, sir, by many. But the more learned say the plant took sustenance from the flesh, finding it soil at heart, as we must all come to. Yet 'twas as strange a sight as ever he saw, my man said, to see such sweetness in a blackened face.
Q. You took here no suspicion as to who it was?
A. No, sir. Nor then, nor when the crowner's man first came For it was a full week gone, ye must understand, since the had passed. And Daccombe, 'tis not our parish. With that my guests were five, I had no thought of one alone come to such an end, without inquiry made of the gentlemen his masters.
Q. And next?
A. Next was the finding of the brassbound chest, sir, close by the road where Cleave Wood runs and the old mare was seen. Then at last I waked, and prompt advised my friend Mr Tucker, who is mayor, of my reasonings. And then did Mr Tucker and myself, with Mr Acland the apothecary, that is clerk to our town, for he do know somewhat also of the law, and Digory Skinner, that is sergeant at mace and our constable, and others beside, ride out upon Posse comitatus, that we might inquire and make report.
Q. When was this?
A. The first week of June, sir. We rode to where they had took the chest. And I knew at once 'twas the same as the gentleman's, Mr Bartholomew's. My ostler Ezekiel has likewise since seen it, who helped rope it on with their other baggages that very morning they left. Then I would see the horse, 'twas haltered by then and kept in a farm nearby. And I took a suspicion that that too was the same, sir, and sat down and bethought me, and would hear more of the violet man's looks. Which he I spoke of that had seen him, told me. That he was fair of hair, and had blue eyes. And then it was plain, and all was writ by Mr Acland to Barnstaple, to the Crowner.
Q. Have you no coroner here?
A. By charter, sir. But none to fill the place. 'Tis lapsed. So he of Barnstaple was called.
Q. Dr Pettigrew?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. This chest had been hidden?
A. 'Twas thrown in a goyal of thick bushes, four hundred paces from the road. But he who found it saw a glint of the brass, amid the leaves.
Q. A goyal, what is that?
A. A combelet, sir. A narrow sunken place.
Q. And this place lies also below where the body was found?
A. Yes.
Q. The chest was empty?
A. As your glass, sir. And there is a tale there, that Dorcas must tell. For some say now 'twas full of gold, but she saw when 'twas open, and that it was not.
Q. I shall ask her. Now, had they not other baggage?
A. Yes, sir. A great leather portmantee, and else. But 'tis not found, not a smallest piece, nor the seam beside.
Q. It was searched for well?
A. Ten men, sir. And the constables. And they were much afeared they should come upon other corses, that all was waylaid and murthered. Some think 'tis so still, if we but knew where to look.
Q. Then why was the fellow Dick's not hidden also?
A. I know not, sir. 'Tis all riddle. Some say he murthered and hid, and ended his life in despair. Others would have it he was in league with the murtherers, but repented, and so they must silence him and made it seem like self-murther, they being in too much haste to bury him.
Q. You are troubled with such here?
A. Not this twenty years past, sir, thank the Lord.
Q. Then I think not much to your second explanation, Master Puddicombe.
A. Nor I, sir. I say no more than what is said. But certain 'tis that some foul deed was done, about the place where the mare ran loose and the chest was found. And I'll tell ye why, sir. If they had gone further, they must have passed by Daccombe. And being May Day, with many in the streets, it would have beer marked.
Q. They were seen by none there?
A. Not one eye, sir. They passed not.
Q. There are no other roads?
A. Not that wise travellers take, nor cumbered as they were Nor would they know them, sir, being strangers. Nor even i1 they did, take them if they were truly for Bideford.
Q. They were asked of there?
A. Yes, sir. But the scent was cold. For it is a busy town, and full enough of strange faces. Those Dr Pettigrew sent had no gain for their pains. 'Twas said as much at the second inquisition.
Q. That night they passed beneath this roof, heard you no quarrels? High words?
A. No, Sir.
Q. None came to speak to them, apart from Mr Beckford? No messenger, no strange person?
A. No, sir.
Q. Mr Brown, may you describe his looks?
A. Why, sir, more fierce in face than manner.
Q. How, fierce?
A. Rather I would say grave. Such as a learned doctor, as us say here.
Q. Then unlike to his supposed occupation? Was he not said a merchant?
A. I cannot tell, sir. I know not London. But they be great men there, 'tis said.
Q. Was he fat or thin? How tall?
A. Why, middling in all, sir. A sound carriage.
Q. Of what age?
A. Near fifty, sir, I can say no more. Perhaps more.
Q. No other thing that bears upon my enquiry?
A. Not that I can think of at this present, sir. Naught of importance, ye may be sure.
Very well, Master Puddicombe. I thank you. And at your pain to keep my commission secret, as I warned.
A. I have sworn, sir. My word is my bond, I assure ye. King and true church. I am no fanatick nor meeting man. Ask any here.
Jurat tricesimo uno die Jul.
anno Domini 1736 coram me
Henry Ayscough
Historical Chronicle May 1736
The Examination and Deposition of
Dorcas Hellyer
the which doth attest upon her sworn
oath, this one and thirtieth day
of July in the tenth year of the
reign of our sovereign Lord George the
second, by the grace of God King of Great
Britain and of England, &c.
* * *
I an seventeen years of age, born of this place, spinster. I am maid of all work to Master and Mistress Puddicombe.
* * *
Q. Your master has told you of my purpose here?
A. Yes, Sir.
Q. And that you stand upon oath as in a court of law?
A. Yes, Sir.
Q. So speak truth, for this person will write down all you say.
A. Book truth, sir.
Q. Very well. Now I would have you look upon this portrait again. Is he the gentleman you attended in this very chamber on the last of April past?
A. Yes, Sir. I believe 'tis he.
Q. You are sure? Thou must say if thou art not, girl. No harm will come to thee for that.
A. I be sure.
Q. Very well. You served the two gentlemen their supper?
A. Yes, Sir. Their supper and all else.
Q. Is it not a more usual case that travelling gentlemen, such as lodge here, are served by their own servants?
A. 'Tis as they please, sir. Few do pass.
Q. No remark on this was made?
A. No, Sir.
Q. Did they speak together as you served?
A. No, Sir. Not that us heard.
Q. You stayed as they ate?
A. I would, sir. But they told I to leave, once 'twas brought ready.
Q. They would serve themselves?
A. Yes, Sir.
Q. Marked you naught in their manner?
A. What should us mark, sir?
Q. I but ask thee. Recollect. Seemed they troubled, or impatient to be left alone?
A. Not beyond the having rid far, sir. And 'twas said, poorly dined.
Q. And wishing to sup without further ado? A. Yes, sir.
Q. What ate they?
A. Collops and eggs and a mess o
f dry pease and onion with brook-sallet beside, and a bowl of whitepot after.
Q. They ate well of these?
A. Yes, sir. Passing well.
Q. Seemed they friendly the one to the other? Not angry, as if they had quarrelled?
A. No, sir.
Q. Which gentleman gave you their commands?
A. The older gentleman, sir.
Q. And later you brought tea to the same and Mr Beckford?
(Non comprendit.) Chay, girl. Bohea. China leaf.
A. Yes, sir. 'Twas below.
Q. What did they speak that you heard?
A. Mr Beckford spake of himself, that I do remember.
Q. What of himself?
A. Of his family, sir. For he come from Wiltshire. I heard he to tell of a lady his sister, who is new-married in Salisbury city.
Q. And nothing else?
A. No, sir.
Q. Have you seen Mr Beckford converse thus with strangers before?
A. Yes, sir. For where he lodges, 'tis close across the square, no more than there where you may turn and see, sir. And he may see all from his window.
Q. He enjoys genteel company?
A. None else, sir. Or so it be said.
Q. Now, Dorcas, what saw you in either gentleman's bed chamber, among their belongings, that you thought strange?
A. Nothing, sir. Unless 'twas the chest and papers.
Q. what papers are these?
A. The younger gentleman, sir, in a chest he had carried up. Some was spread upon the table there, where that gentleman writes, when us brought him more light. The older gentle man did ask for it to go up when he came down to Mr. Beckford.
Q. He was reading?
A. Yes, sir. He wished more light.
Q. What manner of papers?
A. I could not tell, sir. I has no alphabet.
Q. You would say letters? Had these papers superscription - address?
A. Us can't read, sir.
Q. Yes, yes. But you have seen letters - saw you seal, or folds, or close writing?
A. No, sir. 'Twas more like counting papers.
Q. What are they?
A. As Master writes in his bills of lodging, sir, for those who want such.
Q. You mean there were numbers written thereon?
A. Yes, sir. Numbers and signs that were no alphabet letters, for I knows their look.
Q. And fell these numbers in lines and columns, as upon a bill or accompt?