A Maggot - John Fowles

by John Fowles

  Q. That sufficed thee, for an answer?

  A. Sir, I tried again on her going the next day - later that same, rather. And she said, I was a good man, she would entertain well of my offer if she changed her mind. Yet had no present desire that she should, indeed earnestly the contrary. And in all case first she must see her parents.

  Q. Thou shouldst have unfrocked her piety whilst thou hadst the chance.

  A. That tide is lost, sir.

  Q. But I shall catch it. She'll not candour me with her soft looks and ranting fits. Quakery, quackery, by Heaven she won't.

  A. No, sir. And I wish you well in it.

  Q. I need no wishes from such as thee.

  A. My pardon, sir.

  Q. Jones, if thou'st lied in any particular of this. I'll have thee at a rope's end yet, I warrant thee that.

  A. Yes, sir. I know it well. I wish I had told you all in the first place.

  Q. Thou art too much a dolt and braggart to be a thorough rogue. That is all the good in thee, which is none, but by degree of wrongdoing. Now be off, until my further disposition. I have not released thee yet. Thy lodging is paid, and to it I sentence thee until all is done. It is clear?

  A. Yes, sir. I thank your worship humbly. God bless your worship.

  * * *

  The 11th Sept. Lincoln's Inn.

  Your Grace,

  My most humble concern for Yr Grace would, were I not also his servant, with duty above all else to bow to his gracious commands, beseech me to forbear the dispatch of this that is inclosed. Would that I might find some allay to it, yet cannot beyond that ancient saw of my calling, Testis unus, testis nullus. The more might it be applied to this present, that the one witness is known liar and transparent rogue, and here does report of another we may fear to be a greater liar still. Yet must I in truth to Yr Grace state that though in all Jones doth most plainly merit the rope, I believe him no liar in the substance of our matter. Our hope and prayer must lie therefore in that the wench did cunningly deceive him.

  All is on foot to discover her, and God willing we shall. Then shall she have such a riding as Yr Grace may guess. The rogue Jones describes himself in all he says, Yr Grace may picture his kind, that matches all that is worst, which is much, in his wretched nation. He is man of clouts. I will venture one hundred pound to a peppercorn he hath been no nearer Mars or my lady Bellona than John o' Groats is to Rome, nay, further still. He is far more a frighted eel, that would slip from any pot, once caught.

  This also I beg to submit to Yr Grace, that knows his Lordship and that all in which he standeth blameable. There is alas no doubt that he is guilty of the most heinous of familial sins, in his conduct towards Yr Grace's wishes; yet always with this in his favour, as Yr Grace himself once in happier days remarked, that he hath seemed unsullied by those nowaday too frequent vices of his age and station; that is, by none so foul and dark as is now proposed. Yr Grace, I may believe gentlemen exist that would sink to such depravity; but not a one bearing the honour to be Yr

  Grace's son. Nor will my reason believe, as I doubt not Yr Grace's likewise, that such witches as these have been, these last hundred years. In short, I must exhort Yr Grace to patience. I pray he win' not credit that such alleged infamy as here I send report of to hire is yet determined truth.

  Yr Grace's most saddened, and ever his most obedient

  Henry Ayscough

  * * *

  Bristol, by Froomgate.

  Wednesday, the 15th of September, 1736

  Sir,

  I have received the honour of your letter and return your kind compliments an hundredfold, to which I trust I may add that your most noble client may be assured that I am ever his to command in anything that concerns him. I count myself no less fortunate to have been able to assist a gentleman of your eminence in our profession in the business of last year; as to which I may mention that I have just recently been at Assize (in another happily concluded suit) before Mr Justice G-y and that he did me the honour of asking me in private to convey his respects to our client and assurance of his most favourable interest in any further cause Sir Charles may choose to pursue before him; the which compliment, my dear sir, I felt gratefully obliged to transmit to you before I come to your directions in this present most sad and delicate matter.

  Sir, you may furthermore assure His Grace that nothing is more precious to me than the good name of our nobility, that pre-eminent and divinely chosen bulwark upon which, conjoined to the King's majesty, the safety and welfare of our nation must always most depend; and that all shall be conducted with the utmost secrecy, as you request.

  The particular you seek I have had most closely inquired after, and find she appeared in this city - and in that place she stated - about the time conjectured in your letter, though none my searcher spoke to could put more precise date upon it than the first or second week of May Last. She was told what is truth, viz. that her parents are gone this three years since to another meeting of their sect, it is believed in Manchester, and reside here no more. It doth appear that in Manchester a brother to her father dwells, who had persuaded them of better living (and a more pernicious enthusiasm besides, I doubt not) to be found there, and so they did take their three other children with them, thus leaving her no relations in this city. These three are all daughters, there is no brother.

  The father's name is Amos Hocknell, his wife's is Martha, who was Bradling or Bradlynch before marriage, and is originary of Corsham, Co. Wilts. Hocknell was accounted here a good carpenter and joiner, though adamant in his heresy. He was most lately employed by Mr Alderman Diffrey, an excellent and Christian merchant and master ship-builder of this city, for the cabin furnishings of hiss vessels. I am acquainted with Mr Diffrey, and he tells me he had no complaints of Hocknell for his work; but found he could not leave his preaching and prophesying at home and was ever trying to subvert those around him from established religion, to which my worthy friend Mr D. is to his honour most securely attached; and that on finding one day Hocknell had secretly won two of Mr D.'s apprentices to his own false faith, he dismissed him; at which Hocknell cried injustice and persecution, though Mr D. had warned him many times he would not stand for what Hocknell had persisted in doing, as was now well proven. The man is as turbulent and rabid in his politics as his religion, Mr D.'s very words are these: as steeped fn false liberty as a cod-barrel in salt, from which you may judge his kind; and by this that Mr D. also told me, of how when he dismissed Hocknell, he had the impertinence to exclaim, that any man might hire his hands, but no man, not even the King, nor Parliament, should ever hire his soul. It seems the fellow muttered for a time of taking himself and his family to the American colonies (where I heartily wish all such seditious fanatickals might be condemned), yet thought the better of it. The conclusion is, he may be found certainly by inquiry at the Manchester meeting-house; for 'tis, as you must know better than I, sir, an inconsiderable town to this great city that I write from.

  The person stated she was come from London, and had there been maid by her work, tho' said no name nor place that is now remembered. To my best ascertaining she stayed no more than an hour in a neighbour's house, who informed her of the above, and then departed away saying she must journey on without delay to Manchester, as she wished with all her heart to rejoin her parents. Sir, I must explain that by a most malign mischance for our purpose, the neighbour in question, an elderly Quakeress, is dead of a dropsy three weeks before my receipt of your letter, and all is founded upon her tattle to her gossips. 'Tis accordingly tongue-worn testimony, yet I believe may be credited.

  Of the person's past, my man could discover little more, owing to the closeness of her obstinate co-religionaries in this town, who deem all inquiry, however lawful, a threatened tyranny upon them. Howsoever he found one to tell him the maid was commonly considered slid from Quakerism, and lost to their faith and world, after being discovered in sin, some five or six years past, with one Henry Harvey, son of the house where first she had work h
ere; was cast out by her mistress, then by her parents, who considered her insufficient in repentance; since it was she that led the young man to their sin. And was long disappeared, none knew where till this coming-back (of which none but the aforesaid neighbour knew nor spoke to her before she was gone off again).

  Lastly I must inform you we are not the first to inquire after the person, for the prattler above told my searcher another came asking this past June after her, saying he was from London and had a message from her mistress; but neither his appearance nor his manner recommended him to these jealous and suspicious people, and he was told little beyond that she was believed gone to Manchester; at which the fellow went off and has troubled them no more. I trust you will know better what to make of this than I, sir.

  I write in some haste before I leave on the other matter, which shall be done as prompt as circumstance allows. Pray rest assured I will write to you thereon as soon as it shall be possible. I am, sir, in all things your* noble and gracious client's and your esteemed own most humble, most faithful and most obedient servant,

  Rich'd Pygge, attorney at law

  * * *

  Bideford, the 20th of September.

  Sir,

  I have spent these two previous days at the very place of your most concern, and write while all is fresh in mind. This place is to my best computation two and a half miles above the ford upon the Bideford road and the valley thereto is known as the Cleeve, after its cleft and woody sides, that make it more ravine than vale, like many in this country. The cavern lies with a sward and drinking-pool for beasts before, in the upper part of a side-valley to the aforesaid, the branch path to which is reached in one and three quarter miles from the ford upon the high road. All is desart in these parts, and the valley most seldom used unless by shepherds to gain the moor above. One such, named James Lock, and his boy, of the parish of Daccombe, was at the cavern when we came; as he told us was his summer wont, for he has passed many such there. This Mopsus appeared a plain fellow, no more lettered than his sheep, but honest in his manner.

  The place has a mischievous history, being known to him and his like as Dolling's or Dollin's Cave, after one of that name in his great-grandfather's time who led a notorious gang of rogues that boldly resided here and lived a merry life in the manner of Robin Hood (or so said this Lock), with long impunity, by reason of the remoteness of the place and their cunning in thieving more abroad than in the neighbourhood itself; were never brought to justice that he knows, and in the end removed away. And in proof thereof he showed me inside the entrance to his grotto and rudecarved upon the native rock the initials I.D.H.H., that is, John Dolling His House. The rogue would have been a free-holder, it seems.

  Sir, I run ahead, for he told me also of a superstition much older concerning the great stone that stands upright beside the aforesaid drinking-pool, which is that the Devil came once to a shepherd there to buy a lamb of him, or so he said, yet when a price was made and the shepherd said he might choose which he please, Satan pointed to this shepherd's young son (as Lock in telling me to his own boy), who stood nearby. Whereat the shepherd guessed with whom he truly dealt and being much afraid, lost his tongue. Why say you nothing, says Sir Beelzebub, did Abraham make such a to-do about a mere boy? Upon which our shepherd, seeing (as my rude fellow put it) he did speak with one who should best him in a barter over souls, bravely struck with his crook; which fell not on a human (or most diabolical) pate, but upon this stone, and was broke in half. For which loss the shepherd soon consoled himself, since his son's soul was saved from perdition, and moreover the Devil (not taking to this Arcadian hospitality) dared not to show his impudent face in the place again; thus ever since the stone has been called the Devil Stone. And perhaps for that reason the place is deemed accursed by many and some in the parish will not set foot in it. Not so this fellow Lock, nor his father (as well a shepherd) before him; on the contrary, good fattening ground and without mads or murrain, and the cavern apt for his summer living and the ripening of his cheeses. I trust, sir, you may not find me trivial in reciting this, since you especially desired me to omit no particular, however fanciful.

  The antrum is fifteen paces broad in its mouth and rises to some twice the height of a man at the tallest of its exterior arch; and thence runs back some forty paces, there to make a most singular bend indeed (running upon a blank wall in first appearance) through a rough-hewn arch, which Lock believes formerly enlarged from nature, perhaps by the rascal Dolling and his band, unto an inner and more spacious chamber. This I paced and found it somewhat the shape of an egg, thus, some fifty paces at the longest and a pace or two over thirty at the broadest or beam, though not regular. The roof is tall and breached at one end to the air, for one may see a faint light at the place, though not sky, as in a crooked chimney; and the ground is damp thereunder, but not greatly so, Lock says in some manner it drains away. He uses not this retiring-room (if I may call it so), for the inconvenience of its darkness, except for his cheeses.

  Now, sir, I proceed to your more particular inquiry. Advised by you I brought a lantern with me, and came by its aid upon ashes near the centre of this inner chamber, as of a great fire, or many such. Which Lock told me, ere I had even asked, was made by what is called in the Devonshire vulgar didickies (that 3s, Egyptians), who come here with some regularity in their winter wanderings; for it seems some of their bands tend westward to Cornwall at that season and return thence eastward in the spring. Upon my further questioning Lock said that on his own returnings here, which passes most years about the beginning of June (and to which this present year is no exception), he has seldom not found such traces of their sojourn; and that it was so also in his father's time. Yet he has never encountered them (in this. place) for they are secret people, with their own heathen tongue and customs; and never having done him harm nor disputed his summer possession of the cavern, they trouble him not; that he has even found store of burning and hurdle wood seemingly left dry and good for his use, for which he is grateful.

  I must here remark that something in these ashes did stink strangely of other than wood being burnt, I fancy somewhat of sulphur or vitriol, I can put no better name to it. It may be conceived the answer lies in the constitution of the bare rock on which these ashes reposed and that the heat of a strong fire draws forth some tarry emanation, whose effluvia linger on, though t am not competent to determine such matters. I asked Lock of this stink, but he seemed not to have remarked it and declared he could smell nothing uncustomary. Yet methought his nostrils were beclogged with the worse stink of his sheep and his cheeses, and that I was not mistaken. My own man, who was with us, was of my opinion; and we had further proof I was not wrong, as I shall come to, tho' with no better explanation. We disturbed the ashes somewhat to see if aught else but charred wood lay there, and found nothing. In one low corner or recess Lock showed us many bones lying as in a charnelhouse, for the most part small, of rabbits and fowls and I know not what else, no doubt thrown aside by the uncleanly Egyptians in their regales and feastings Lock says they use this inner room more than he in their winter stays, it may be with good reason, for the better protection from the winds and colds of that season.

  I must add, sir, before I forget and in answer to another of your queries, that I searched all well by the lantern and found no other way from this cavern save that by which we had entered; and Lock likewise was positive there was none, other than the aforementioned chimney. To my best observation it is little more than a chink, for I later mounted above upon the slope where it issues, where it might pass a child, but not a grown man. Nor is it to be reached at the foot without a ladder. I saw naught else there, or in the vestibule of the antrum, that spake of what concerns us.

  Now I come, sir, to one last matter and that is the fire outside the cave. It lies some twenty paces off, a little to one side upon the sward. I had marked it on arrival, for Lock has encompassed the place with hurdles to keep his flock away. The ashes are washed out by rains, yet the so
il remains dark and barren in this place, and nothing has grown upon it since it was burnt. Lock says in former years the Egyptians have not lit their fires so, outside the cave, and knows not why they are so departed from their usual custom this last winter. His sheep, when first he came, seemed driven to lick the superficies where this fire had been, as if something there tickled their animal appetites; and tho' none seemed to sicken for it, he had feared this sudden maggot in them and so barred them from it; yet said they would still on occasion try to thrust through, for all the abundance of sweet grass lying about them.

  This ustulated patch is some nine paces across. I entered upon it and when I stooped was able to discern a similar sulphurous property to that I had smelled inside. I told my man kneel and scratch a little of the earth, when he declared the smell was as strong as before, and the same; which I confirmed with a morsel (that I inclose) he handed me, and marked it seemed baked hard as a potsherd; id est, it had withstood the mollient effect of this season's great rains. I had Lock fetch a hurdle stake, with which my man digged down, and found all the soil in this bare place roasted curious hard for four or five inches' depth, and difficult of penetration without repeated thrust; which we could not put a cause to except by many and repeated great fires (for which there is provision enough of wood nearby, yet which I find not accountable to ordinary purposes of cooking and making warmth).

  I asked Lock whether this absence of grass was not a strange thing, to which he said yes, and he deemed the Egyptians had poisoned it in making of their salves and potions. Now, sir, they are considered in this part of the Kingdom praeternatural wise in the preparation of simples and 'tis true get some living by sale of their pseudo-apothecarickal concoctions to the ignorant; but neither I nor my man will believe this, that so great a fire was needful if such alone were their business. My man truly observed it was more like earth at the bottom of a smelting-pit, though we saw no trace of metal or else besides. Nor, I think, is there utile ore known in this immediate vicinity. Nota, 'tis found in abundance upon the Mendip Hill, toward Bristol.