Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor

by R. D. Blackmore

  CHAPTER XXXIX

  TROUBLED STATE AND A FOOLISH JOKE

  Stickles took me aside the next day, and opened all his business to me,whether I would or not. But I gave him clearly to understand that he wasnot to be vexed with me, neither to regard me as in any way dishonest,if I should use for my own purpose, or for the benefit of my friends,any part of the knowledge and privity thus enforced upon me. To this heagreed quite readily; but upon the express provision that I shoulddo nothing to thwart his schemes, neither unfold them to any one; butotherwise be allowed to act according to my own conscience, and asconsisted with the honour of a loyal gentleman--for so he was pleased toterm me. Now what he said lay in no great compass and may be summed insmaller still; especially as people know the chief part of it already.Disaffection to the King, or rather dislike to his brother James, andfear of Roman ascendancy, had existed now for several years, and of latewere spreading rapidly; partly through the downright arrogance ofthe Tory faction, the cruelty and austerity of the Duke of York, thecorruption of justice, and confiscation of ancient rights and charters;partly through jealousy of the French king, and his potent voice in ouraffairs; and partly (or perhaps one might even say, mainly) through thatnatural tide in all political channels, which verily moves as if it hadthe moon itself for its mistress. No sooner is a thing done and fixed,being set far in advance perhaps of all that was done before (like a newmole in the sea), but immediately the waters retire, lest they shouldundo it; and every one says how fine it is, but leaves other people towalk on it. Then after awhile, the vague endless ocean, having retiredand lain still without a breeze or murmur, frets and heaves again withimpulse, or with lashes laid on it, and in one great surge advances overevery rampart.

  And so there was at the time I speak of, a great surge in England, notrolling yet, but seething; and one which a thousand Chief Justices,and a million Jeremy Stickles, should never be able to stop or turn,by stringing up men in front of it; any more than a rope of onions canrepulse a volcano. But the worst of it was that this great movement tooka wrong channel at first; not only missing legitimate line, but roaringout that the back ditchway was the true and established course of it.

  Against this rash and random current nearly all the ancient mariners ofthe State were set; not to allow the brave ship to drift there, thoughsome little boats might try it. For the present there seemed to bea pause, with no open onset, but people on the shore expecting, eachaccording to his wishes, and the feel of his own finger, whence the rushof wind should come which might direct the water.

  Now,--to reduce high figures of speech into our own littlenumerals,--all the towns of Somersetshire and half the towns ofDevonshire were full of pushing eager people, ready to swallow anything,or to make others swallow it. Whether they believed the folly about theblack box, and all that stuff, is not for me to say; only one thingI know, they pretended to do so, and persuaded the ignorant rustics.Taunton, Bridgwater, Minehead, and Dulverton took the lead of the othertowns in utterance of their discontent, and threats of what they meantto do if ever a Papist dared to climb the Protestant throne of England.On the other hand, the Tory leaders were not as yet under apprehensionof an immediate outbreak, and feared to damage their own cause bypremature coercion, for the struggle was not very likely to begin inearnest during the life of the present King; unless he should (as somepeople hoped) be so far emboldened as to make public profession ofthe faith which he held (if any). So the Tory policy was to watch, notindeed permitting their opponents to gather strength, and muster inarmed force or with order, but being well apprised of all their schemesand intended movements, to wait for some bold overt act, and then tostrike severely. And as a Tory watchman--or spy, as the Whigs would callhim--Jeremy Stickles was now among us; and his duty was threefold.

  First, and most ostensibly, to see to the levying of poundage in thelittle haven of Lynmouth, and farther up the coast, which was nowbecoming a place of resort for the folk whom we call smugglers, that isto say, who land their goods without regard to King's revenue as bylaw established. And indeed there had been no officer appointed to taketoll, until one had been sent to Minehead, not so very long before.The excise as well (which had been ordered in the time of the LongParliament) had been little heeded by the people hereabouts.

  Second, his duty was (though only the Doones had discovered it) to watchthose outlaws narrowly, and report of their manners (which were scanty),doings (which were too manifold), reputation (which was execrable), andpolitics, whether true to the King and the Pope, or otherwise.

  Jeremy Stickles' third business was entirely political; to learn thetemper of our people and the gentle families, to watch the movements ofthe trained bands (which could not always be trusted), to discover anycollecting of arms and drilling of men among us, to prevent (if needwere, by open force) any importation of gunpowder, of which there hadbeen some rumour; in a word, to observe and forestall the enemy.

  Now in providing for this last-mentioned service, the Government hadmade a great mistake, doubtless through their anxiety to escape anypublic attention. For all the disposable force at their emissary'scommand amounted to no more than a score of musketeers, and theseso divided along the coast as scarcely to suffice for the duty ofsentinels. He held a commission, it is true, for the employment of thetrain-bands, but upon the understanding that he was not to call uponthem (except as a last resource), for any political object; althoughhe might use them against the Doones as private criminals, if foundneedful; and supposing that he could get them.

  'So you see, John,' he said in conclusion, 'I have more work than toolsto do it with. I am heartily sorry I ever accepted such a mixed andmeagre commission. At the bottom of it lies (I am well convinced) notonly the desire to keep things quiet, but the paltry jealousy of themilitary people. Because I am not a Colonel, forsooth, or a Captain inHis Majesty's service, it would never do to trust me with a company ofsoldiers! And yet they would not send either Colonel or Captain, forfear of a stir in the rustic mind. The only thing that I can do withany chance of success, is to rout out these vile Doone fellows, and burntheir houses over their heads. Now what think you of that, John Ridd?'

  'Destroy the town of the Doones,' I said, 'and all the Doones inside it!Surely, Jeremy, you would never think of such a cruel act as that!'

  'A cruel act, John! It would be a mercy for at least three counties. Nodoubt you folk, who live so near, are well accustomed to them, and wouldmiss your liveliness in coming home after nightfall, and the joy offinding your sheep and cattle right, when you not expected it. But afterawhile you might get used to the dullness of being safe in your beds,and not losing your sisters and sweethearts. Surely, on the whole, it isas pleasant not to be robbed as to be robbed.'

  'I think we should miss them very much,' I answered after considerationfor the possibility of having no Doones had never yet occurred to me,and we all were so thoroughly used to them, and allowed for it inour year's reckoning; 'I am sure we should miss them very sadly; andsomething worse would come of it.'

  'Thou art the staunchest of all staunch Tories,' cried Stickles,laughing, as he shook my hand; 'thou believest in the divine right ofrobbers, who are good enough to steal thy own fat sheep. I am a jollyTory, John, but thou art ten times jollier: oh! the grief in thy face atthe thought of being robbed no longer!'

  He laughed in a very unseemly manner; while I descried nothing to laughabout. For we always like to see our way; and a sudden change upsets us.And unless it were in the loss of the farm, or the death of the King, orof Betty Muxworthy, there was nothing that could so unsettle our mindsas the loss of the Doones of Bagworthy.

  And beside all this, I was thinking, of course, and thinking more thanall the rest, about the troubles that might ensue to my own belovedLorna. If an attack of Glen Doone were made by savage soldiers andrude train-bands, what might happen, or what might not, to my delicate,innocent darling? Therefore, when Jeremy Stickles again placed thematter before me, commending my strength and courage and skill (toflatter me o
f the highest), and finished by saying that I would be worthat least four common men to him, I cut him short as follows:--

  'Master Stickles, once for all, I will have naught to do with it. Thereason why is no odds of thine, nor in any way disloyal. Only in thyplans remember that I will not strike a blow, neither give any counsel,neither guard any prisoners.'

  'Not strike a blow,' cried Jeremy, 'against thy father's murderers,John!'

  'Not a single blow, Jeremy; unless I knew the man who did it, and hegloried in his sin. It was a foul and dastard deed, yet not done in coldblood; neither in cold blood will I take God's task of avenging it.'

  'Very well, John,' answered Master Stickles, 'I know thine obstinacy.When thy mind is made up, to argue with thee is pelting a rock withpeppercorns. But thou hast some other reason, lad, unless I am muchmistaken, over and above thy merciful nature and Christian forgiveness.Anyhow, come and see it, John. There will be good sport, I reckonespecially when we thrust our claws into the nest of the ravens. Manya yeoman will find his daughter, and some of the Porlock lads theirsweethearts. A nice young maiden, now, for thee, John; if indeed, any--'

  'No more of this!' I answered very sternly: 'it is no business of thine,Jeremy; and I will have no joking upon this matter.'

  'Good, my lord; so be it. But one thing I tell thee in earnest. We willhave thy old double-dealing uncle, Huckaback of Dulverton, and march himfirst to assault Doone Castle, sure as my name is Stickles. I hear thathe hath often vowed to storm the valley himself, if only he could find adozen musketeers to back him. Now, we will give him chance to do it, andprove his loyalty to the King, which lies under some suspicion of late.'

  With regard to this, I had nothing to say; for it seemed to me veryreasonable that Uncle Reuben should have first chance of recovering hisstolen goods, about which he had made such a sad to-do, and promisedhimself such vengeance. I made bold, however, to ask Master Stickles atwhat time he intended to carry out this great and hazardous attempt. Heanswered that he had several things requiring first to be set in order,and that he must make an inland Journey, even as far as Tiverton, andperhaps Crediton and Exeter, to collect his forces and ammunitionfor them. For he meant to have some of the yeomanry as well as of thetrained bands, so that if the Doones should sally forth, as perhaps theywould, on horseback, cavalry might be there to meet them, and cut themoff from returning.

  All this made me very uncomfortable, for many and many reasons, thechief and foremost being of course my anxiety about Lorna. If the attacksucceeded, what was to become of her? Who would rescue her from thebrutal soldiers, even supposing that she escaped from the hands of herown people, during the danger and ferocity? And in smaller ways, I wasmuch put out; for instance, who would ensure our corn-ricks, sheep, andcattle, ay, and even our fat pigs, now coming on for bacon, against thespreading all over the country of unlicensed marauders? The Dooneshad their rights, and understood them, and took them according toprescription, even as the parsons had, and the lords of manors, and theKing himself, God save him! But how were these low soldiering fellows(half-starved at home very likely, and only too glad of the fat of theland, and ready, according to our proverb, to burn the paper theyfried in), who were they to come hectoring and heroing over us, andHeliogabalising, with our pretty sisters to cook for them, and bechucked under chin perhaps afterwards? There is nothing England hatesso much, according to my sense of it, as that fellows taken fromplough-tail, cart-tail, pot-houses and parish-stocks, should be hoistedand foisted upon us (after a few months' drilling, and their lyingshaped into truckling) as defenders of the public weal, and heroes ofthe universe.

  In another way I was vexed, moreover--for after all we must consider theopinions of our neighbours--namely, that I knew quite well how everybodyfor ten miles round (for my fame must have been at least that wide,after all my wrestling), would lift up hands and cry out thus--'Blackshame on John Ridd, if he lets them go without him!'

  Putting all these things together, as well as many others, which yourown wits will suggest to you, it is impossible but what you will freelyacknowledge that this unfortunate John Ridd was now in a cloven stick.There was Lorna, my love and life, bound by her duty to that oldvil--nay, I mean to her good grandfather, who could now do littlemischief, and therefore deserved all praise--Lorna bound, at any rate,by her womanly feelings, if not by sense of duty, to remain in the thickdanger, with nobody to protect her, but everybody to covet her, forbeauty and position. Here was all the country roused with violentexcitement, at the chance of snapping at the Doones; and not onlygetting tit for tat; but every young man promising his sweetheart agold chain, and his mother at least a shilling. And here was our ownmow-yard, better filled than we could remember, and perhaps every sheafin it destined to be burned or stolen, before we had finished the breadwe had baked.

  Among all these troubles, there was, however, or seemed to be, onecomfort. Tom Faggus returned from London very proudly and very happily,with a royal pardon in black and white, which everybody admired themore, because no one could read a word of it. The Squire himselfacknowledged cheerfully that he could sooner take fifty purses than reada single line of it. Some people indeed went so far as to say that theparchment was made from a sheep Tom had stolen, and that was why itprevaricated so in giving him a character. But I, knowing something bythis time, of lawyers, was able to contradict them; affirming that thewolf had more than the sheep to do with this matter.

  For, according to our old saying, the three learned professions live byroguery on the three parts of a man. The doctor mauls our bodies; theparson starves our souls, but the lawyer must be the adroitest knave,for he has to ensnare our minds. Therefore he takes a careful delight incovering his traps and engines with a spread of dead-leaf words, whereofhimself knows little more than half the way to spell them.

  But now Tom Faggus, although having wit to gallop away on his strawberrymare, with the speed of terror, from lawyers (having paid them withmoney too honest to stop), yet fell into a reckless adventure, ere everhe came home, from which any lawyer would have saved him, although heought to have needed none beyond common thought for dear Annie. Now Iam, and ever have been, so vexed about this story that I cannot tell itpleasantly (as I try to write in general) in my own words and manner.Therefore I will let John Fry (whom I have robbed of another story,to which he was more entitled, and whom I have robbed of many speeches(which he thought very excellent), lest I should grieve any one with hislack of education,--the last lack he ever felt, by the bye), now withyour good leave, I will allow poor John to tell this tale, in his ownwords and style; which he has a perfect right to do, having been thefirst to tell us. For Squire Faggus kept it close; not trusting evenAnnie with it (or at least she said so); because no man knows much ofhis sweetheart's tongue, until she has borne him a child or two.

  Only before John begins his story, this I would say, in duty to him, andin common honesty,--that I dare not write down some few of his words,because they are not convenient, for dialect or other causes; and that Icannot find any way of spelling many of the words which I do repeat, sothat people, not born on Exmoor, may know how he pronounced them; evenif they could bring their lips and their legs to the proper attitude.And in this I speak advisedly; having observed some thousand times thatthe manner a man has of spreading his legs, and bending his knees,or stiffening, and even the way he will set his heel, make all thedifference in his tone, and time of casting his voice aright, and powerof coming home to you.

  We always liked John's stories, not for any wit in them; but because welaughed at the man, rather than the matter. The way he held his head wasenough, with his chin fixed hard like a certainty (especially during hisbiggest lie), not a sign of a smile in his lips or nose, but a power ofnot laughing; and his eyes not turning to anybody, unless somebody hadtoo much of it (as young girls always do) and went over the brink oflaughter. Thereupon it was good to see John Fry; how he looked gravelyfirst at the laughter, as much as to ask, 'What is it now?' then ifthe fool went laughing more, as he
or she was sure to do upon that dryinquiry, John would look again, to be sure of it, and then at somebodyelse to learn whether the laugh had company; then if he got anothergrin, all his mirth came out in glory, with a sudden break; and he wipedhis lips, and was grave again.

  Now John, being too much encouraged by the girls (of which I could neverbreak them), came into the house that December evening, with every inchof him full of a tale. Annie saw it, and Lizzie, of course; and even I,in the gloom of great evils, perceived that John was a loaded gun; but Idid not care to explode him. Now nothing primed him so hotly as this: ifyou wanted to hear all John Fry had heard, the surest of all sure waysto it was, to pretend not to care for a word of it.

  'I wor over to Exeford in the morning,' John began from thechimney-corner, looking straight at Annie; 'for to zee a little calve,Jan, as us cuddn't get thee to lave houze about. Meesus have got a quarevancy vor un, from wutt her have heer'd of the brade. Now zit quite,wull 'e Miss Luzzie, or a 'wunt goo on no vurder. Vaine little tayl I'lltull' ee, if so be thee zits quite. Wull, as I coom down the hill, Izeed a saight of volks astapping of the ro-udwai. Arl on 'em wi' girtgoons, or two men out of dree wi' 'em. Rackon there wor dree scoreon 'em, tak smarl and beg togather laike; latt aloun the women andchillers; zum on em wi' matches blowing, tothers wi' flint-lacks. "Wuttbe up now?" I says to Bill Blacksmith, as had knowledge of me: "be theKing acoomin? If her be, do 'ee want to shutt 'un?"

  '"Thee not knaw!" says Bill Blacksmith, just the zame as I be a tullinof it: "whai, man, us expex Tam Faggus, and zum on us manes to shutt'un."

  '"Shutt 'un wi'out a warrant!" says I: "sure 'ee knaws better nor thic,Bill! A man mayn't shutt to another man, wi'out have a warrant, Bill.Warship zed so, last taime I zeed un, and nothing to the contrairy."

  '"Haw, haw! Never frout about that," saith Bill, zame as I be tullinyou; "us has warrants and warships enow, dree or vour on 'em. And morenor a dizzen warranties; fro'ut I know to contrairy. Shutt 'un, usmanes; and shutt 'un, us will--" Whai, Miss Annie, good Lord, whuttivermaks 'ee stear so?'

  'Nothing at all, John,' our Annie answered; 'only the horrible ferocityof that miserable blacksmith.'

  'That be nayther here nor there,' John continued, with some wrath athis own interruption: 'Blacksmith knawed whutt the Squire had been; andveared to lose his own custom, if Squire tuk to shooin' again. Shutt anyman I would myzell as intervared wi' my trade laike. "Lucky for thee,"said Bill Blacksmith, "as thee bee'st so shart and fat, Jan. Dree on uswor a gooin' to shutt 'ee, till us zeed how fat thee waz, Jan."

  '"Lor now, Bill!" I answered 'un, wi' a girt cold swat upon me: "shuttme, Bill; and my own waife niver drame of it!"'

  Here John Fry looked round the kitchen; for he had never said anythingof the kind, I doubt; but now made it part of his discourse, fromthinking that Mistress Fry was come, as she generally did, to fetch him.

  'Wull done then, Jan Vry,' said the woman, who had entered quietly, butwas only our old Molly. 'Wutt handsome manners thee hast gat, Jan, tospake so well of thy waife laike; after arl the laife she leads thee!'

  'Putt thee pot on the fire, old 'ooman, and bile thee own bakkon,' Johnanswered her, very sharply: 'nobody no raight to meddle wi' a man's badooman but himzell. Wull, here was all these here men awaitin', zum wi'harses, zum wi'out; the common volk wi' long girt guns, and tha quarlitywi' girt broad-swords. Who wor there? Whay latt me zee. There wor SquireMaunder,' here John assumed his full historical key, 'him wi' the pot tohis vittle-place; and Sir Richard Blewitt shaking over the zaddle, andSquaire Sandford of Lee, him wi' the long nose and one eye, and SirGronus Batchildor over to Ninehead Court, and ever so many more on 'em,tulling up how they was arl gooin' to be promoted, for kitching of TomFaggus.

  '"Hope to God," says I to myzell, "poor Tom wun't coom here to-day: arlup with her, if 'a doeth: and who be there to suckzade 'un?" Mark menow, all these charps was good to shutt 'un, as her coom crass thewatter; the watter be waide enow there and stony, but no deeper than myknee-place.

  '"Thee cas'n goo no vurder," Bill Blacksmith saith to me: "nawbody'lowed to crass the vord, until such time as Faggus coom; plaise God usmay mak sure of 'un."

  '"Amen, zo be it," says I; "God knoweth I be never in any hurry, andwould zooner stop nor goo on most taimes."

  'Wi' that I pulled my vittles out, and zat a horsebarck, atin' of 'em,and oncommon good they was. "Won't us have 'un this taime just," saithTim Potter, as keepeth the bull there; "and yet I be zorry for 'un. Buta man must kape the law, her must; zo be her can only learn it. And nowpoor Tom will swing as high as the tops of they girt hashes there."

  '"Just thee kitch 'un virst," says I; "maisure rope, wi' the body tomaisure by."

  '"Hurrah! here be another now," saith Bill Blacksmith, grinning;"another coom to help us. What a grave gentleman! A warship of the pace,at laste!"

  'For a gentleman, on a cue-ball horse, was coming slowly down the hillon tother zide of watter, looking at us in a friendly way, and with along papper standing forth the lining of his coat laike. Horse stappedto drink in the watter, and gentleman spak to 'un kindly, and then theycoom raight on to ussen, and the gentleman's face wor so long and sograve, us veared 'a wor gooin' to prache to us.

  '"Coort o' King's Bench," saith one man; "Checker and Plays," saithanother; "Spishal Commission, I doubt," saith Bill Blacksmith; "backedby the Mayor of Taunton."

  '"Any Justice of the King's Peace, good people, to be found near here?"said the gentleman, lifting his hat to us, and very gracious in hismanner.

  '"Your honour," saith Bill, with his hat off his head; "there be sax orzeven warships here: arl on 'em very wise 'uns. Squaire Maunder there bethe zinnyer."

  'So the gentleman rode up to Squire Maunder, and raised his cocked hatin a manner that took the Squire out of countenance, for he could not dothe like of it.

  '"Sir," said he, "good and worshipful sir, I am here to claim yourgood advice and valour; for purposes of justice. I hold His Majesty'scommission, to make to cease a notorious rogue, whose name is ThomasFaggus." With that he offered his commission but Squire Maunder toldthe truth, that he could not rade even words in print, much less writtenkarakters.* Then the other magistrates rode up, and put their headstogether, how to meet the London gentleman without loss of importance.There wor one of 'em as could rade purty vair, and her made out King'smark upon it: and he bowed upon his horse to the gentleman, and he laidhis hand on his heart and said, "Worshipful sir, we, as has the honourof His Gracious Majesty's commission, are entirely at your service, andcrave instructions from you."

  * Lest I seem to under-rate the erudition of Devonshire magistrates, I venture to offer copy of a letter from a Justice of the Peace to his bookseller, circa 1810 A.D., now in my possession:--

  'Sur. 'plez to zen me the aks relatting to A-GUSTUS-PAKS,' --Ed. of L. D.

  'Then a waving of hats began, and a bowing, and making of legs to wananather, sich as nayver wor zeed afore; but none of 'em arl, for air andbrading, cud coom anaigh the gentleman with the long grave face.

  '"Your warships have posted the men right well," saith he with anatherbow all round; "surely that big rogue will have no chance left among somany valiant musketeers. Ha! what see I there, my friend? Rust in thepan of your gun! That gun would never go off, sure as I am the King'sCommissioner. And I see another just as bad; and lo, there thethird! Pardon me, gentlemen, I have been so used to His Majesty'sOrdnance-yards. But I fear that bold rogue would ride through all ofyou, and laugh at your worship's beards, by George."

  '"But what shall us do?" Squire Maunder axed; "I vear there be no oilhere."

  '"Discharge your pieces, gentlemen, and let the men do the same; or atleast let us try to discharge them, and load again with fresh powder. Itis the fog of the morning hath spoiled the priming. That rogue is notin sight yet: but God knows we must not be asleep with him, or what willHis Majesty say to me, if we let him slip once more?"

  '"Excellent, wondrous well said, good sir," Squire Maunder answered
him;"I never should have thought of that now. Bill Blacksmith, tell all themen to be ready to shoot up into the air, directly I give the word. Now,are you ready there, Bill?"

  '"All ready, your worship," saith Bill, saluting like a soldier.

  '"Then, one, two, dree, and shutt!" cries Squire Maunder, standing up inthe irons of his stirrups.

  'Thereupon they all blazed out, and the noise of it went all round thehills; with a girt thick cloud arising, and all the air smelling ofpowder. Before the cloud was gone so much as ten yards on the wind,the gentleman on the cue-bald horse shuts up his face like a pair ofnut-cracks, as wide as it was long before, and out he pulls two girtpistols longside of zaddle, and clap'th one to Squire Maunder's head,and tother to Sir Richard Blewitt's.

  '"Hand forth your money and all your warrants," he saith like a clap ofthunder; "gentlemen, have you now the wit to apprehend Tom Faggus?"

  'Squire Maunder swore so that he ought to be fined; but he pulled outhis purse none the slower for that, and so did Sir Richard Blewitt.

  '"First man I see go to load a gun, I'll gi'e 'un the bullet to do itwith," said Tom; for you see it was him and no other, looking quietlyround upon all of them. Then he robbed all the rest of their warships,as pleasant as might be; and he saith, "Now, gentlemen, do your duty:serve your warrants afore you imprison me;" with that he made them giveup all the warrants, and he stuck them in the band of his hat, and thenhe made a bow with it.

  '"Good morning to your warships now, and a merry Christmas all ofyou! And the merrier both for rich and poor, when gentlemen see theiralmsgiving. Lest you deny yourselves the pleasure, I will aid yourwarships. And to save you the trouble of following me, when your guns beloaded--this is my strawberry mare, gentlemen, only with a little creamon her. Gentlemen all, in the name of the King, I thank you."

  'All this while he was casting their money among the poor folk by thehandful; and then he spak kaindly to the red mare, and wor over the backof the hill in two zeconds, and best part of two maile away, I reckon,afore ever a gun wor loaded.'*

  * The truth of this story is well established by first-rate tradition.