CHAPTER XLIII
THE CHURCH
The next morning I began to think of departing: I had sewed up the moneywhich I had received for the horse in a portion of my clothing, where Ientertained no fears for its safety, with the exception of a small sum innotes, gold, and silver, which I carried in my pocket. Ere departing,however, I determined to stroll about and examine the town, and observemore particularly the humours of the fair than I had hitherto anopportunity of doing. The town, when I examined it, offered no objectworthy of attention but its church--an edifice of some antiquity; underthe guidance of an old man, who officiated as sexton, I inspected itsinterior attentively, occasionally conversing with my guide, who,however, seemed much more disposed to talk about horses than the church.'No good horses in the fair this time, measter,' said he; 'none but onebrought hither by a chap whom nobody knows, and bought by a foreigneeringman, who came here with Jack Dale. The horse fetched a good swingingprice, which is said, however, to be much less than its worth; for thehorse is a regular clipper; not such a one, 'tis said, has been seen inthe fair for several summers. Lord Whitefeather says that he believesthe fellow who brought him to be a highwayman, and talks of having himtaken up, but Lord Whitefeather is only in a rage because he could notget him for himself. The chap would not sell it to un; Lord Screw wantedto beat him down, and the chap took huff, said he wouldn't sell it to himat no price, and accepted the offer of the foreigneering man, or of Jack,who was his 'terpreter, and who scorned to higgle about such an hanimal,because Jack is a gentleman, though bred a dickey-boy, whilst 'tother,though bred a lord, is a screw, and a whitefeather. Every one says thecove was right, and I says so too; I likes spirit, and if the cove werehere, and in your place, measter, I would invite him to drink a pint ofbeer. Good horses are scarce now, measter, ay, and so are good men,quite a different set from what there were when I was young; that was thetime for men and horses. Lord bless you, I know all the breeders abouthere; they are not a bad set, and they breed a very fairish set ofhorses, but they are not like what their fathers were, nor are theirhorses like their fathers' horses. Now, there is Mr. ---, the greatbreeder, a very fairish man, with very fairish horses; but, Lord blessyou, he's nothing to what his father was, nor his steeds to his father's;I ought to know, for I was at the school here with his father, andafterwards for many a year helped him to get up his horses; that was whenI was young, measter--those were the days. You look at that monument,measter,' said he, as I stopped and looked attentively at a monument onthe southern side of the church near the altar; 'that was put up for arector of this church, who lived a long time ago, in Oliver's time, andwas ill-treated and imprisoned by Oliver and his men; you will see allabout it on the monument. There was a grand battle fought nigh thisplace, between Oliver's men and the Royal party, and the Royal party hadthe worst of it, as I'm told they generally had; and Oliver's men cameinto the town and did a great deal of damage, and ill-treated people. Ican't remember anything about the matter myself, for it happened just onehundred years before I was born, but my father was acquainted with an oldcountryman, who lived not many miles from here, who said he rememberedperfectly well the day of the battle; that he was a boy at the time, andwas working in a field near the place where the battle was fought; and heheard shouting, and noise of firearms, and also the sound of severalballs, which fell in the field near him. Come this way, measter, and Iwill show you some remains of that day's field.' Leaving the monument,on which was inscribed an account of the life and sufferings of theRoyalist Rector of Horncastle, I followed the sexton to the western endof the church, where, hanging against the wall, were a number of scythesstuck in the ends of poles. 'Those are the weapons, measter,' said thesexton, 'which the great people put into the hands of a number of thecountry folks, in order that they might use them against Oliver's men;ugly weapons enough: however, Oliver's men won, and Sir Jacob Ashley andhis party were beat. And a rare time Oliver and his men had of it, tillOliver died, when the other party got the better, not by fighting, 'tissaid, but through a General Monk, who turned sides. Ah, the old fellowthat my father knew, said he well remembered the time when General Monkwent over and proclaimed Charles the Second. Bonfires were lightedeverywhere, oxen roasted, and beer drunk by pailfuls; the country folkswere drunk with joy, and something else; sung scurvy songs about Oliverto the tune of Barney Banks, and pelted his men, wherever they foundthem, with stones and dirt.' 'The more ungrateful scoundrels they,' saidI. 'Oliver and his men fought the battle of English independence againsta wretched king and corrupt lords. Had I been living at the time, Ishould have been proud to be a trooper of Oliver.' 'You would, measter,would you? Well, I never quarrels with the opinions of people who cometo look at the church, and certainly independence is a fine thing. Ilike to see a chap of an independent spirit, and if I were now to see thecove who refused to sell his horse to my Lord Screw and Whitefeather, andlet Jack Dale have him, I would offer to treat him to a pint ofbeer--e'es I would, verily. Well, measter, you have now seen the church,and all there's in it worth seeing--so I'll just lock up, and go andfinish digging the grave I was about when you came, after which I must gointo the fair to see how matters are going on. Thank ye, measter,' saidhe, as I put something into his hand; 'thank ye kindly; 'tis not everyone gives me a shilling nowadays who comes to see the church, but timesare very different from what they were when I was young; I was not sextonthen, but something better; helped Mr. --- with his horses, and got manya broad crown. Those were the days, measter, both for men andhorses--and I say, measter, if men and horses were so much better when Iwas young than they are now, what, I wonder, must they have been in thetime of Oliver and his men?'
The Romany Rye Page 48
