Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor

by R. D. Blackmore

  CHAPTER XXIV

  A SAFE PASS FOR KING'S MESSENGER

  A journey to London seemed to us in those bygone days as hazardous anddark an adventure as could be forced on any man. I mean, of course,a poor man; for to a great nobleman, with ever so many outriders,attendants, and retainers, the risk was not so great, unless thehighwaymen knew of their coming beforehand, and so combined againstthem. To a poor man, however, the risk was not so much from thosegentlemen of the road as from the more ignoble footpads, and thelandlords of the lesser hostels, and the loose unguarded soldiers, overand above the pitfalls and the quagmires of the way; so that it was hardto settle, at the first outgoing whether a man were wise to pray morefor his neck or for his head.

  But nowadays it is very different. Not that highway-men are scarce, inthis the reign of our good Queen Anne; for in truth they thrive aswell as ever, albeit they deserve it not, being less upright andcourteous--but that the roads are much improved, and the growing useof stage-waggons (some of which will travel as much as forty miles in asummer day) has turned our ancient ideas of distance almost upside down;and I doubt whether God be pleased with our flying so fast away fromHim. However, that is not my business; nor does it lie in my mouth tospeak very strongly upon the subject, seeing how much I myself have donetowards making of roads upon Exmoor.

  To return to my story (and, in truth, I lose that road too often), itwould have taken ten King's messengers to get me away from Plover'sBarrows without one goodbye to Lorna, but for my sense of the trustand reliance which His Majesty had reposed in me. And now I felt mostbitterly how the very arrangements which seemed so wise, and indeedingenious, may by the force of events become our most fatal obstacles.For lo! I was blocked entirely from going to see Lorna; whereaswe should have fixed it so that I as well might have the power ofsignalling my necessity.

  It was too late now to think of that; and so I made up my mind at lastto keep my honour on both sides, both to the King and to the maiden,although I might lose everything except a heavy heart for it. Andindeed, more hearts than mine were heavy; for when it came to the tug ofparting, my mother was like, and so was Annie, to break down altogether.But I bade them be of good cheer, and smiled in the briskest manner uponthem, and said that I should be back next week as one of His Majesty'sgreatest captains, and told them not to fear me then. Upon which theysmiled at the idea of ever being afraid of me, whatever dress I mighthave on and so I kissed my hand once more, and rode away very bravely.But bless your heart, I could no more have done so than flown all theway to London if Jeremy Stickles had not been there.

  And not to take too much credit to myself in this matter, I must confessthat when we were come to the turn in the road where the moor begins,and whence you see the last of the yard, and the ricks and the poultryround them and can (by knowing the place) obtain a glance of the kitchenwindow under the walnut-tree, it went so hard with me just here that Ieven made pretence of a stone in ancient Smiler's shoe, to dismount, andto bend my head awhile. Then, knowing that those I had left behind wouldbe watching to see the last of me, and might have false hopes of mycoming back, I mounted again with all possible courage, and rode afterJeremy Stickles.

  Jeremy, seeing how much I was down, did his best to keep me up withjokes, and tales, and light discourse, until, before we had ridden aleague, I began to long to see the things he was describing. The air,the weather, and the thoughts of going to a wondrous place, added tothe fine company--at least so Jeremy said it was--of a man who knew allLondon, made me feel that I should be ungracious not to laugh a little.And being very simple then I laughed no more a little, but somethingquite considerable (though free from consideration) at the strangethings Master Stickles told me, and his strange way of telling them.And so we became very excellent friends, for he was much pleased with mylaughing.

  Not wishing to thrust myself more forward than need be in thisnarrative, I have scarcely thought it becoming or right to speak of myown adornments. But now, what with the brave clothes I had on, and thebetter ones still that were packed up in the bag behind the saddle,it is almost beyond me to forbear saying that I must have looked verypleasing. And many a time I wished, going along, that Lorna could onlybe here and there, watching behind a furze-bush, looking at me, andwondering how much my clothes had cost. For mother would have nostint in the matter, but had assembled at our house, immediately uponknowledge of what was to be about London, every man known to be a goodstitcher upon our side of Exmoor. And for three days they hadworked their best, without stint of beer or cider, according to theconstitution of each. The result, so they all declared, was such as tocreate admiration, and defy competition in London. And to me it seemedthat they were quite right; though Jeremy Stickles turned up his nose,and feigned to be deaf in the business.

  Now be that matter as you please--for the point is not wortharguing--certain it is that my appearance was better than it had beenbefore. For being in the best clothes, one tries to look and to act(so far as may be) up to the quality of them. Not only for the fear ofsoiling them, but that they enlarge a man's perception of his value. Andit strikes me that our sins arise, partly from disdain of others, butmainly from contempt of self, both working the despite of God. But menof mind may not be measured by such paltry rule as this.

  By dinner-time we arrived at Porlock, and dined with my old friend,Master Pooke, now growing rich and portly. For though we had plenty ofvictuals with us we were not to begin upon them, until all chance ofvictualling among our friends was left behind. And during that first daywe had no need to meddle with our store at all; for as had been settledbefore we left home, we lay that night at Dunster in the house ofa worthy tanner, first cousin to my mother, who received us verycordially, and undertook to return old Smiler to his stable at Plover'sBarrows, after one day's rest.

  Thence we hired to Bridgwater; and from Bridgwater on to Bristowe,breaking the journey between the two. But although the whole way was sonew to me, and such a perpetual source of conflict, that the remembrancestill abides with me, as if it were but yesterday, I must not be so longin telling as it was in travelling, or you will wish me farther;both because Lorna was nothing there, and also because a man in ourneighbourhood had done the whole of it since my time, and feigns tothink nothing of it. However, one thing, in common justice to a personwho has been traduced, I am bound to mention. And this is, that beingtwo of us, and myself of such magnitude, we never could have made ourjourney without either fight or running, but for the free pass whichdear Annie, by some means (I know not what), had procured from MasterFaggus. And when I let it be known, by some hap, that I was the owncousin of Tom Faggus, and honoured with his society, there was nota house upon the road but was proud to entertain me, in spite of myfellow-traveller, bearing the red badge of the King.

  'I will keep this close, my son Jack,' he said, having stripped it offwith a carving-knife; 'your flag is the best to fly. The man who starvedme on the way down, the same shall feed me fat going home.'

  Therefore we pursued our way, in excellent condition, having thrivenupon the credit of that very popular highwayman, and being surroundedwith regrets that he had left the profession, and sometimes begged tointercede that he might help the road again. For all the landlords onthe road declared that now small ale was drunk, nor much of spiritscalled for, because the farmers need not prime to meet only commonriders, neither were these worth the while to get drunk with afterwards.Master Stickles himself undertook, as an officer of the King's Justicesto plead this case with Squire Faggus (as everybody called him now), andto induce him, for the general good, to return to his proper ministry.

  It was a long and weary journey, although the roads are wondrous good onthe farther side of Bristowe, and scarcely any man need be bogged, if hekeeps his eyes well open, save, perhaps, in Berkshire. In consequenceof the pass we had, and the vintner's knowledge of it, we only mettwo public riders, one of whom made off straightway when he saw mycompanion's pistols and the stout carbine I bore; and the other came toa parley with us, a
nd proved most kind and affable, when he knewhimself in the presence of the cousin of Squire Faggus. 'God save you,gentlemen,' he cried, lifting his hat politely; 'many and many a happyday I have worked this road with him. Such times will never be again.But commend me to his love and prayers. King my name is, and King mynature. Say that, and none will harm you.' And so he made off down thehill, being a perfect gentleman, and a very good horse he was riding.

  The night was falling very thick by the time we were come to Tyburn, andhere the King's officer decided that it would be wise to halt, becausethe way was unsafe by night across the fields to Charing village. I formy part was nothing loth, and preferred to see London by daylight.

  And after all, it was not worth seeing, but a very hideous and dirtyplace, not at all like Exmoor. Some of the shops were very fine, andthe signs above them finer still, so that I was never weary of standingstill to look at them. But in doing this there was no ease; for beforeone could begin almost to make out the meaning of them, either someof the wayfarers would bustle and scowl, and draw their swords, or theowner, or his apprentice boys, would rush out and catch hold of me,crying, 'Buy, buy, buy! What d'ye lack, what d'ye lack? Buy, buy, buy!'At first I mistook the meaning of this--for so we pronounce the word'boy' upon Exmoor--and I answered with some indignation, 'Sirrah, I amno boy now, but a man of one-and-twenty years; and as for lacking, Ilack naught from thee, except what thou hast not--good manners.'

  The only things that pleased me much, were the river Thames, and thehall and church of Westminster, where there are brave things to be seen,and braver still to think about. But whenever I wandered in the streets,what with the noise the people made, the number of the coaches, therunning of the footmen, the swaggering of great courtiers, and thethrusting aside of everybody, many and many a time I longed to be backamong the sheep again, for fear of losing temper. They were welcome tothe wall for me, as I took care to tell them, for I could stand withoutthe wall, which perhaps was more than they could do. Though I said thiswith the best intention, meaning no discourtesy, some of them were vexedat it; and one young lord, being flushed with drink, drew his sword andmade at me. But I struck it up with my holly stick, so that it flew onthe roof of a house, then I took him by the belt with one hand, and laidhim in the kennel. This caused some little disturbance; but none of therest saw fit to try how the matter might be with them.

  Now this being the year of our Lord 1683, more than nine years and ahalf since the death of my father, and the beginning of this history,all London was in a great ferment about the dispute between the Court ofthe King and the City. The King, or rather perhaps his party (for theysaid that His Majesty cared for little except to have plenty of moneyand spend it), was quite resolved to be supreme in the appointment ofthe chief officers of the corporation. But the citizens maintained that(under their charter) this right lay entirely with themselves; uponwhich a writ was issued against them for forfeiture of their charter;and the question was now being tried in the court of His Majesty'sbench.

  This seemed to occupy all the attention of the judges, and my case(which had appeared so urgent) was put off from time to time, whilethe Court and the City contended. And so hot was the conflict and hatebetween them, that a sheriff had been fined by the King in 100,000pounds, and a former lord mayor had even been sentenced to the pillory,because he would not swear falsely. Hence the courtiers and the citizensscarce could meet in the streets with patience, or without railing andfrequent blows.

  Now although I heard so much of this matter, for nothing else was talkedof, and it seeming to me more important even than the churchwardenshipof Oare, I could not for the life of me tell which side I should taketo. For all my sense of position, and of confidence reposed in me, andof my father's opinions, lay heavily in one scale, while all my reasonand my heart went down plump against injustice, and seemed to win theother scale. Even so my father had been, at the breaking out of thecivil war, when he was less than my age now, and even less skilled inpolitics; and my mother told me after this, when she saw how I myselfwas doubting, and vexed with myself for doing so, that my father usedto thank God often that he had not been called upon to take one side orother, but might remain obscure and quiet. And yet he always consideredhimself to be a good, sound Royalist.

  But now as I stayed there, only desirous to be heard and to get away,and scarcely even guessing yet what was wanted of me (for even JeremyStickles knew not, or pretended not to know), things came to a dreadfulpass between the King and all the people who dared to have an opinion.For about the middle of June, the judges gave their sentence, that theCity of London had forfeited its charter, and that its franchise shouldbe taken into the hands of the King. Scarcely was this judgment forth,and all men hotly talking of it, when a far worse thing befell. News ofsome great conspiracy was spread at every corner, and that a man in themalting business had tried to take up the brewer's work, and lop theKing and the Duke of York. Everybody was shocked at this, for the Kinghimself was not disliked so much as his advisers; but everybody was morethan shocked, grieved indeed to the heart with pain, at hearing thatLord William Russell and Mr. Algernon Sidney had been seized and sent tothe Tower of London, upon a charge of high treason.

  Having no knowledge of these great men, nor of the matter how far it wastrue, I had not very much to say about either of them or it; but thissilence was not shared (although the ignorance may have been) by thehundreds of people around me. Such a commotion was astir, such universalsense of wrong, and stern resolve to right it, that each man grasped hisfellow's hand, and led him into the vintner's. Even I, although at thattime given to excess in temperance, and afraid of the name of cordials,was hard set (I do assure you) not to be drunk at intervals withoutcoarse discourtesy.

  However, that (as Betty Muxworthy used to say, when argued down, andready to take the mop for it) is neither here nor there. I have naughtto do with great history and am sorry for those who have to write it;because they are sure to have both friends and enemies in it, and cannotact as they would towards them, without damage to their own consciences.

  But as great events draw little ones, and the rattle of the churndecides the uncertainty of the flies, so this movement of the town, andeloquence, and passion had more than I guessed at the time, to do withmy own little fortunes. For in the first place it was fixed (perhapsfrom down right contumely, because the citizens loved him so) that LordRussell should be tried neither at Westminster nor at Lincoln's Inn, butat the Court of Old Bailey, within the precincts of the city. This keptme hanging on much longer; because although the good nobleman was to betried by the Court of Common Pleas, yet the officers of King's Bench, towhom I daily applied myself, were in counsel with their fellows, and putme off from day to day.

  Now I had heard of the law's delays, which the greatest of all greatpoets (knowing much of the law himself, as indeed of everything) hasspecially mentioned, when not expected, among the many ills of life. ButI never thought at my years to have such bitter experience of the evil;and it seemed to me that if the lawyers failed to do their duty, theyought to pay people for waiting upon them, instead of making them payfor it. But here I was, now in the second month living at my owncharges in the house of a worthy fellmonger at the sign of the Seal andSquirrel, abutting upon the Strand road which leads from Temple Barto Charing. Here I did very well indeed, having a mattress of goodskin-dressings, and plenty to eat every day of my life, but the butterwas something to cry 'but' thrice at (according to a conceit of ourschool days), and the milk must have come from cows driven to water.However, these evils were light compared with the heavy bill sent up tome every Saturday afternoon and knowing how my mother had pinched tosend me nobly to London, and had told me to spare for nothing, but livebravely with the best of them, the tears very nearly came into my eyes,as I thought, while I ate, of so robbing her.

  At length, being quite at the end of my money, and seeing no other helpfor it, I determined to listen to clerks no more, but force my way up tothe Justices, and insist upon being heard by
them, or discharged from myrecognisance. For so they had termed the bond or deed which I had beenforced to execute, in the presence of a chief clerk or notary, the veryday after I came to London. And the purport of it was, that on pain ofa heavy fine or escheatment, I would hold myself ready and present, togive evidence when called upon. Having delivered me up to sign this,Jeremy Stickles was quit of me, and went upon other business, not butwhat he was kind and good to me, when his time and pursuits allowed ofit.