Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor
like an old bruised lanthorn. We were obliged to cook by candle-light;
we were forced to read by candle-light; as for baking, we could not do
it, because the oven was too chill; and a load of faggots only brought a
little wet down the sides of it.
For when the sun burst forth at last upon that world of white, what he
brought was neither warmth, nor cheer, nor hope of softening; only a
clearer shaft of cold, from the violet depths of sky. Long-drawn alleys
of white haze seemed to lead towards him, yet such as he could not come
down, with any warmth remaining. Broad white curtains of the frost-fog
looped around the lower sky, on the verge of hill and valley, and above
the laden trees. Only round the sun himself, and the spot of heaven he
claimed, clustered a bright purple-blue, clear, and calm, and deep.
That night such a frost ensued as we had never dreamed of, neither read
in ancient books, or histories of Frobisher. The kettle by the fire
froze, and the crock upon the hearth-cheeks; many men were killed, and
cattle rigid in their head-ropes. Then I heard that fearful sound, which
never I had heard before, neither since have heard (except during that
same winter), the sharp yet solemn sound of trees burst open by the
frost-blow. Our great walnut lost three branches, and has been dying
ever since; though growing meanwhile, as the soul does. And the ancient
oak at the cross was rent, and many score of ash trees. But why should
I tell all this? the people who have not seen it (as I have) will only
make faces, and disbelieve; till such another frost comes; which perhaps
may never be.
This terrible weather kept Tom Faggus from coming near our house for
weeks; at which indeed I was not vexed a quarter so much as Annie was;
for I had never half approved of him, as a husband for my sister; in
spite of his purchase from Squire Bassett, and the grant of the Royal
pardon. It may be, however, that Annie took the same view of my love for
Lorna, and could not augur well of it; but if so, she held her peace,
though I was not so sparing. For many things contributed to make me less
good-humoured now than my real nature was; and the very least of all
these things would have been enough to make some people cross, and rude,
and fractious. I mean the red and painful chapping of my face and hands,
from working in the snow all day, and lying in the frost all night. For
being of a fair complexion, and a ruddy nature, and pretty plump withal,
and fed on plenty of hot victuals, and always forced by my mother to sit
nearer the fire than I wished, it was wonderful to see how the cold ran
revel on my cheeks and knuckles. And I feared that Lorna (if it should
ever please God to stop the snowing) might take this for a proof of low
and rustic blood and breeding.
And this I say was the smallest thing; for it was far more serious that
we were losing half our stock, do all we would to shelter them. Even the
horses in the stables (mustered all together for the sake of breath and
steaming) had long icicles from their muzzles, almost every morning.
But of all things the very gravest, to my apprehension, was the
impossibility of hearing, or having any token of or from my loved one.
Not that those three days alone of snow (tremendous as it was) could
have blocked the country so; but that the sky had never ceased, for more
than two days at a time, for full three weeks thereafter, to pour fresh
piles of fleecy mantle; neither had the wind relaxed a single day from
shaking them. As a rule, it snowed all day, cleared up at night, and
froze intensely, with the stars as bright as jewels, earth spread out in
lustrous twilight, and the sounds in the air as sharp and crackling as
artillery; then in the morning, snow again; before the sun could come to
help.
It mattered not what way the wind was. Often and often the vanes went
round, and we hoped for change of weather; the only change was that it
seemed (if possible) to grow colder. Indeed, after a week or so, the
wind would regularly box the compass (as the sailors call it) in the
course of every day, following where the sun should be, as if to make
a mock of him. And this of course immensely added to the peril of the
drifts; because they shifted every day; and no skill or care might learn
them.
I believe it was on Epiphany morning, or somewhere about that period,
when Lizzie ran into the kitchen to me, where I was thawing my
goose-grease, with the dogs among the ashes--the live dogs, I mean, not
the iron ones, for them we had given up long ago,--and having caught
me, by way of wonder (for generally I was out shoveling long before my
“young lady” had her nightcap off), she positively kissed me, for the
sake of warming her lips perhaps, or because she had something proud to
say.
“You great fool, John,” said my lady, as Annie and I used to call her,
on account of her airs and graces; “what a pity you never read, John!”
“Much use, I should think, in reading!” I answered, though pleased with
her condescension; “read, I suppose, with roof coming in, and only this
chimney left sticking out of the snow!”
“The very time to read, John,” said Lizzie, looking grander; “our worst
troubles are the need, whence knowledge can deliver us.”
“Amen,” I cried out; “are you parson or clerk? Whichever you are,
good-morning.”
Thereupon I was bent on my usual round (a very small one nowadays), but
Eliza took me with both hands, and I stopped of course; for I could not
bear to shake the child, even in play, for a moment, because her back
was tender. Then she looked up at me with her beautiful eyes, so large,
unhealthy and delicate, and strangely shadowing outward, as if to spread
their meaning; and she said,--
“Now, John, this is no time to joke. I was almost frozen in bed last
night; and Annie like an icicle. Feel how cold my hands are. Now, will
you listen to what I have read about climates ten times worse than this;
and where none but clever men can live?”
“Impossible for me to listen now, I have hundreds of things to see to;
but I will listen after breakfast to your foreign climates, child. Now
attend to mother's hot coffee.”
She looked a little disappointed, but she knew what I had to do; and
after all she was not so utterly unreasonable; although she did
read books. And when I had done my morning's work, I listened to her
patiently; and it was out of my power to think that all she said was
foolish.
For I knew common sense pretty well, by this time, whether it happened
to be my own, or any other person's, if clearly laid before me. And
Lizzie had a particular way of setting forth very clearly whatever she
wished to express and enforce. But the queerest part of it all was this,
that if she could but have dreamed for a moment what would be the first
application made me by of her lesson, she would rather have bitten her
tongue off than help me to my purpose.
She told me that in the Arctic Regions, as they call some places, a long
way north, where the Great Bear lies all across the heavens, and no
sun is up, for whole months at a time, and yet where people will go
exploring, out of pure contradiction, and for the sake of novelty, and
love of being frozen--that here they always had such winters as we were
having now. It never ceased to freeze, she said; and it never ceased to
snow; except when it was too cold; and then all the air was choked with
glittering spikes; and a man's skin might come off of him, before he
could ask the reason. Nevertheless the people there (although the snow
was fifty feet deep, and all their breath fell behind them frozen, like
a log of wood dropped from their shoulders), yet they managed to
get along, and make the time of the year to each other, by a little
cleverness. For seeing how the snow was spread, lightly over everything,
covering up the hills and valleys, and the foreskin of the sea, they
contrived a way to crown it, and to glide like a flake along. Through
the sparkle of the whiteness, and the wreaths of windy tossings, and
the ups and downs of cold, any man might get along with a boat on either
foot, to prevent his sinking.
She told me how these boats were made; very strong and very light,
of ribs with skin across them; five feet long, and one foot wide; and
turned up at each end, even as a canoe is. But she did not tell me, nor
did I give it a moment's thought myself, how hard it was to walk upon
them without early practice. Then she told me another thing equally
useful to me; although I would not let her see how much I thought about
it. And this concerned the use of sledges, and their power of gliding,
and the lightness of their following; all of which I could see at once,
through knowledge of our own farm-sleds; which we employ in lieu of
wheels, used in flatter districts. When I had heard all this from her, a
mere chit of a girl as she was, unfit to make a snowball even, or to fry
snow pancakes, I looked down on her with amazement, and began to wish a
little that I had given more time to books.
But God shapes all our fitness, and gives each man his meaning, even as
he guides the wavering lines of snow descending. Our Eliza was meant for
books; our dear Annie for loving and cooking; I, John Ridd, for sheep,
and wrestling, and the thought of Lorna; and mother to love all three
of us, and to make the best of her children. And now, if I must tell
the truth, as at every page I try to do (though God knows it is hard
enough), I had felt through all this weather, though my life was
Lorna's, something of a satisfaction in so doing duty to my kindest and
best of mothers, and to none but her. For (if you come to think of it)
a man's young love is very pleasant, very sweet, and tickling; and takes
him through the core of heart; without his knowing how or why. Then he
dwells upon it sideways, without people looking, and builds up all sorts
of fancies, growing hot with working so at his own imaginings. So his
love is a crystal Goddess, set upon an obelisk; and whoever will not bow
the knee (yet without glancing at her), the lover makes it a sacred rite
either to kick or to stick him. I am not speaking of me and Lorna, but
of common people.
Then (if you come to think again) lo!--or I will not say lo! for no one
can behold it--only feel, or but remember, what a real mother is. Ever
loving, ever soft, ever turning sin to goodness, vices into virtues;
blind to all nine-tenths of wrong; through a telescope beholding (though
herself so nigh to them) faintest decimal of promise, even in her vilest
child. Ready to thank God again, as when her babe was born to her;
leaping (as at kingdom-come) at a wandering syllable of Gospel for her
lost one.
All this our mother was to us, and even more than all of this; and hence
I felt a pride and joy in doing my sacred duty towards her, now that the
weather compelled me. And she was as grateful and delighted as if she
had no more claim upon me than a stranger's sheep might have. Yet from
time to time I groaned within myself and by myself, at thinking of
my sad debarment from the sight of Lorna, and of all that might have
happened to her, now she had no protection.
Therefore, I fell to at once, upon that hint from Lizzie, and being used
to thatching-work, and the making of traps, and so on, before very long
I built myself a pair of strong and light snow-shoes, framed with ash
and ribbed of withy, with half-tanned calf-skin stretched across, and
an inner sole to support my feet. At first I could not walk at all, but
floundered about most piteously, catching one shoe in the other, and
both of them in the snow-drifts, to the great amusement of the girls,
who were come to look at me. But after a while I grew more expert,
discovering what my errors were, and altering the inclination of the