Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor
repulse a volcano. But the worst of it was that this great movement took
a wrong channel at first; not only missing legitimate line, but roaring
out that the back ditchway was the true and established course of it.
Against this rash and random current nearly all the ancient mariners of
the State were set; not to allow the brave ship to drift there, though
some little boats might try it. For the present there seemed to be
a pause, with no open onset, but people on the shore expecting, each
according to his wishes, and the feel of his own finger, whence the rush
of wind should come which might direct the water.
Now,--to reduce high figures of speech into our own little
numerals,--all the towns of Somersetshire and half the towns of
Devonshire were full of pushing eager people, ready to swallow anything,
or to make others swallow it. Whether they believed the folly about the
black box, and all that stuff, is not for me to say; only one thing
I know, they pretended to do so, and persuaded the ignorant rustics.
Taunton, Bridgwater, Minehead, and Dulverton took the lead of the other
towns in utterance of their discontent, and threats of what they meant
to 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 apprehension
of an immediate outbreak, and feared to damage their own cause by
premature coercion, for the struggle was not very likely to begin in
earnest during the life of the present King; unless he should (as some
people hoped) be so far emboldened as to make public profession of
the faith which he held (if any). So the Tory policy was to watch, not
indeed permitting their opponents to gather strength, and muster in
armed force or with order, but being well apprised of all their schemes
and intended movements, to wait for some bold overt act, and then to
strike severely. And as a Tory watchman--or spy, as the Whigs would call
him--Jeremy Stickles was now among us; and his duty was threefold.
First, and most ostensibly, to see to the levying of poundage in the
little haven of Lynmouth, and farther up the coast, which was now
becoming a place of resort for the folk whom we call smugglers, that is
to say, who land their goods without regard to King's revenue as by
law established. And indeed there had been no officer appointed to take
toll, 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 Long
Parliament) had been little heeded by the people hereabouts.
Second, his duty was (though only the Doones had discovered it) to watch
those outlaws narrowly, and report of their manners (which were scanty),
doings (which were too manifold), reputation (which was execrable), and
politics, whether true to the King and the Pope, or otherwise.
Jeremy Stickles' third business was entirely political; to learn the
temper of our people and the gentle families, to watch the movements of
the trained bands (which could not always be trusted), to discover any
collecting of arms and drilling of men among us, to prevent (if need
were, by open force) any importation of gunpowder, of which there had
been some rumour; in a word, to observe and forestall the enemy.
Now in providing for this last-mentioned service, the Government had
made a great mistake, doubtless through their anxiety to escape any
public attention. For all the disposable force at their emissary's
command amounted to no more than a score of musketeers, and these
so divided along the coast as scarcely to suffice for the duty of
sentinels. He held a commission, it is true, for the employment of the
train-bands, but upon the understanding that he was not to call upon
them (except as a last resource), for any political object; although
he might use them against the Doones as private criminals, if found
needful; and supposing that he could get them.
“So you see, John,” he said in conclusion, “I have more work than tools
to do it with. I am heartily sorry I ever accepted such a mixed and
meagre commission. At the bottom of it lies (I am well convinced) not
only the desire to keep things quiet, but the paltry jealousy of the
military people. Because I am not a Colonel, forsooth, or a Captain in
His Majesty's service, it would never do to trust me with a company of
soldiers! And yet they would not send either Colonel or Captain, for
fear of a stir in the rustic mind. The only thing that I can do with
any chance of success, is to rout out these vile Doone fellows, and burn
their 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. No
doubt you folk, who live so near, are well accustomed to them, and would
miss your liveliness in coming home after nightfall, and the joy of
finding your sheep and cattle right, when you not expected it. But after
awhile 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 is
as pleasant not to be robbed as to be robbed.”
“I think we should miss them very much,” I answered after consideration;
for 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 in
our year's reckoning; “I am sure we should miss them very sadly; and
something 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 of
robbers, who are good enough to steal thy own fat sheep. I am a jolly
Tory, John, but thou art ten times jollier: oh! the grief in thy face at
the thought of being robbed no longer!”
He laughed in a very unseemly manner; while I descried nothing to laugh
about. 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, or
of Betty Muxworthy, there was nothing that could so unsettle our minds
as the loss of the Doones of Bagworthy.
And beside all this, I was thinking, of course, and thinking more than
all the rest, about the troubles that might ensue to my own beloved
Lorna. If an attack of Glen Doone were made by savage soldiers and
rude train-bands, what might happen, or what might not, to my delicate,
innocent darling? Therefore, when Jeremy Stickles again placed the
matter before me, commending my strength and courage and skill (to
flatter me of the highest), and finished by saying that I would be worth
at 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. The
reason why is no odds of thine, nor in any way disloyal. Only in thy
plans 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 he
gloried in his sin. It was a foul and dastard deed, yet not done in cold
blood; 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 with
peppercorns. But thou hast some other reason, lad, unless I am much
mistaken, over and above thy merciful nature and Christian forgiveness.
Anyhow, come and see it, John. There will be good sport, I reckon;
especially when we thrust our claws into the nest of the ravens. Many
a yeoman will find his daughter, and some of the Porlock lads their
sweethearts. 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 will
have thy old double-dealing uncle, Huckaback of Dulverton, and march him
first to assault Doone Castle, sure as my name is Stickles. I hear that
he hath often vowed to storm the valley himself, if only he could find a
dozen musketeers to back him. Now, we will give him chance to do it, and
prove 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 very
reasonable that Uncle Reuben should have first chance of recovering his
stolen goods, about which he had made such a sad to-do, and promised
himself such vengeance. I made bold, however, to ask Master Stickles at
what time he intended to carry out this great and hazardous attempt. He
answered 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, and
perhaps Crediton and Exeter, to collect his forces and ammunition
for them. For he meant to have some of the yeomanry as well as of the
trained bands, so that if the Doones should sally forth, as perhaps they
would, on horseback, cavalry might be there to meet them, and cut them
off from returning.
All this made me very uncomfortable, for many and many reasons, the
chief and foremost being of course my anxiety about Lorna. If the attack
succeeded, what was to become of her? Who would rescue her from the
brutal soldiers, even supposing that she escaped from the hands of her
own people, during the danger and ferocity? And in smaller ways, I was
much put out; for instance, who would ensure our corn-ricks, sheep, and
cattle, ay, and even our fat pigs, now coming on for bacon, against the
spreading all over the country of unlicensed marauders? The Doones
had their rights, and understood them, and took them according to
prescription, even as the parsons had, and the lords of manors, and the
King 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 the
land, and ready, according to our proverb, to burn the paper they
fried in), who were they to come hectoring and heroing over us, and
Heliogabalising, with our pretty sisters to cook for them, and be
chucked under chin perhaps afterwards? There is nothing England hates
so much, according to my sense of it, as that fellows taken from
plough-tail, cart-tail, pot-houses and parish-stocks, should be hoisted
and foisted upon us (after a few months' drilling, and their lying
shaped into truckling) as defenders of the public weal, and heroes of
the universe.
In another way I was vexed, moreover--for after all we must consider the
opinions of our neighbours--namely, that I knew quite well how everybody
for 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--“Black
shame on John Ridd, if he lets them go without him!”
Putting all these things together, as well as many others, which your
own wits will suggest to you, it is impossible but what you will freely
acknowledge that this unfortunate John Ridd was now in a cloven stick.
There was Lorna, my love and life, bound by her duty to that old
vil--nay, I mean to her good grandfather, who could now do little
mischief, and therefore deserved all praise--Lorna bound, at any rate,
by her womanly feelings, if not by sense of duty, to remain in the thick
danger, with nobody to protect her, but everybody to covet her, for
beauty and position. Here was all the country roused with violent
excitement, at the chance of snapping at the Doones; and not only
getting tit for tat; but every young man promising his sweetheart a
gold chain, and his mother at least a shilling. And here was our own