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CHAPTER LXIX
NOT TO BE PUT UP WITH
The coat of arms, devised for me by the Royal heralds,
was of great size, and rich colours, and full of bright
imaginings. They did me the honour to consult me
first, and to take no notice of my advice. For I
begged that there might be a good-sized cow on it, so
as to stamp our pats of butter before they went to
market: also a horse on the other side, and a flock
snowed up at the bottom. But the gentlemen would not
hear of this; and to find something more appropriate,
they inquired strictly into the annals of our family.
I told them, of course, all about King Alfred; upon
which they settled that one quarter should be, three
cakes on a bar, with a lion regardant, done upon a
field of gold. Also I told them that very likely there
had been a Ridd in the battle fought, not very far from
Plover's Barrows, by the Earl of Devon against the
Danes, when Hubba their chief was killed, and the
sacred standard taken. As some of the Danes are said
to be buried, even upon land of ours, and we call their
graves (if such they be) even to this day 'barrows,'
the heralds quite agreed with me that a Ridd might have
been there, or thereabouts; and if he was there, he was
almost certain to have done his best, being in sight of
hearth and home; and it was plain that he must have had
good legs to be at the same time both there and in
Athelney; and good legs are an argument for good arms;
and supposing a man of this sort to have done his
utmost (as the manner of the Ridds is), it was next to
certain that he himself must have captured the
standard. Moreover, the name of our farm was pure
proof; a plover being a wild bird, just the same as a
raven is. Upon this chain of reasoning, and without
any weak misgivings, they charged my growing escutcheon
with a black raven on a ground of red. And the next
thing which I mentioned possessing absolute certainty,
to wit, that a pig with two heads had been born upon
our farm, not more than two hundred years agone
(although he died within a week), my third quarter was
made at once, by a two-headed boar with noble tusks,
sable upon silver. All this was very fierce and fine;
and so I pressed for a peaceful corner in the lower
dexter, and obtained a wheat-sheaf set upright, gold
upon a field of green.
Here I was inclined to pause, and admire the effect;
for even De Whichehalse could not show a bearing so
magnificent. But the heralds said that it looked a
mere sign-board, without a good motto under it; and the
motto must have my name in it. They offered me first,
'Ridd non ridendus'; but I said, 'for God's sake,
gentlemen, let me forget my Latin.' Then they proposed,
'Ridd readeth riddles': but I begged them not to set
down such a lie; for no Ridd ever had made, or made
out, such a thing as a riddle, since Exmoor itself
began. Thirdly, they gave me, 'Ridd never be ridden,'
and fearing to make any further objections, I let them
inscribe it in bronze upon blue. The heralds thought
that the King would pay for this noble achievement; but
His Majesty, although graciously pleased with their
ingenuity, declined in the most decided manner to pay a
farthing towards it; and as I had now no money left,
the heralds became as blue as azure, and as red as
gules; until Her Majesty the Queen came forward very
kindly, and said that if His Majesty gave me a coat of
arms, I was not to pay for it; therefore she herself
did so quite handsomely, and felt goodwill towards me
in consequence.
Now being in a hurry--so far at least as it is in my
nature to hurry--to get to the end of this narrative,
is it likely that I would have dwelled so long upon my
coat of arms, but for some good reason? And this good
reason is that Lorna took the greatest pride in it, and
thought (or at any rate said) that it quite threw into
the shade, and eclipsed, all her own ancient glories.
And half in fun, and half in earnest, she called me
'Sir John' so continually, that at last I was almost
angry with her; until her eyes were bedewed with tears;
and then I was angry with myself.
Beginning to be short of money, and growing anxious
about the farm, longing also to show myself and my
noble escutcheon to mother, I took advantage of Lady
Lorna's interest with the Queen, to obtain my
acquittance and full discharge from even nominal
custody. It had been intended to keep me in waiting,
until the return of Lord Jeffreys, from that awful
circuit of shambles, through which his name is still
used by mothers to frighten their children into bed.
And right glad was I--for even London shrank with
horror at the news--to escape a man so bloodthirsty,
savage, and even to his friends (among whom I was
reckoned) malignant.
Earl Brandir was greatly pleased with me, not only for
having saved his life, but for saving that which he
valued more, the wealth laid by for Lord Alan. And he
introduced me to many great people, who quite kindly
encouraged me, and promised to help me in every way
when they heard how the King had spoken. As for the
furrier, he could never have enough of my society; and
this worthy man, praying my commendation, demanded of
me one thing only--to speak of him as I found him. As
I had found him many a Sunday, furbishing up old furs
for new, with a glaze to conceal the moths' ravages, I
begged him to reconsider the point, and not to demand
such accuracy. He said, 'Well, well; all trades had
tricks, especially the trick of business; and I must
take him--if I were his true friend--according to his
own description.' This I was glad enough to do; because
it saved so much trouble, and I had no money to spend
with him. But still he requested the use of my name;
and I begged him to do the best with it, as I never had
kept a banker. And the 'John Ridd cuffs,' and the 'Sir
John mantles,' and the 'Holly-staff capes,' he put into
his window, as the winter was coming on, ay and sold
(for everybody was burning with gossip about me), must
have made this good man's fortune; since the excess of
price over value is the true test of success in life.
To come away from all this stuff, which grieves a man
in London--when the brisk air of the autumn cleared
its way to Ludgate Hill, and clever 'prentices ran out,
and sniffed at it, and fed upon it (having little else
to eat); and when the horses from the country were a
goodly sight to see, with the rasp of winter bristles
rising through and among the soft summer-coat; and when
the new straw began to come in, golden with the harvest
gloss, and smelling most divinely at those strange
livery-stables, where the nags are put quite tail to
tail; and when all the London folk themselves are
asking about white frost (from recollections of
childhood); then, I say, such a yearning seized me for
moory crag, and for dewy blade, and even the grunting
of our sheep (when the sun goes down), that nothing but
the new wisps of Samson could have held me in London
town.
Lorna was moved with equal longing towards the country
and country ways; and she spoke quite as much of the
glistening dew as she did of the smell of our oven.
And here let me mention--although the two are quite
distinct and different--that both the dew and the bread
of Exmoor may be sought, whether high or low, but never
found elsewhere. The dew is so crisp, and pure, and
pearly, and in such abundance; and the bread is so
sweet, so kind, and homely, you can eat a loaf, and
then another.
Now while I was walking daily in and out great crowds
of men (few of whom had any freedom from the cares of
money, and many of whom were even morbid with a worse
pest called 'politics'), I could not be quit of
thinking how we jostle one another. God has made the
earth quite large, with a spread of land large enough
for all to live on, without fighting. Also a mighty
spread of water, laying hands on sand and cliff with a
solemn voice in storm-time; and in the gentle weather
moving men to thoughts of equity. This, as well, is
full of food; being two-thirds of the world, and
reserved for devouring knowledge; by the time the sons
of men have fed away the dry land. Yet before the land
itself has acknowledged touch of man, upon one in a
hundred acres; and before one mile in ten thousand of
the exhaustless ocean has ever felt the plunge of hook,
or combing of the haul-nets; lo, we crawl, in flocks
together upon the hot ground that stings us, even as
the black grubs crowd upon the harried nettle! Surely
we are too much given to follow the tracks of each
other.
However, for a moralist, I never set up, and never
shall, while common sense abides with me. Such a man
must be very wretched in this pure dearth of morality;
like a fisherman where no fish be; and most of us have
enough to do to attend to our own morals. Enough that
I resolved to go; and as Lorna could not come with me,
it was even worse than stopping. Nearly everybody
vowed that I was a great fool indeed, to neglect so
rudely--which was the proper word, they said--the
pushing of my fortunes. But I answered that to push
was rude, and I left it to people who had no room; and
thought that my fortune must be heavy, if it would not
move without pushing.
Lorna cried when I came away (which gave me great
satisfaction), and she sent a whole trunkful of things
for mother and Annie, and even Lizzie. And she seemed
to think, though she said it not, that I made my own
occasion for going, and might have stayed on till the
winter. Whereas I knew well that my mother would think
(and every one on the farm the same) that here I had
been in London, lagging, and taking my pleasure, and
looking at shops, upon pretence of King's business, and
leaving the harvest to reap itself, not to mention the
spending of money; while all the time there was nothing
whatever, except my own love of adventure and sport, to
keep me from coming home again. But I knew that my
coat of arms, and title, would turn every bit of this
grumbling into fine admiration.
And so it fell out, to a greater extent than even I
desired; for all the parishes round about united in a
sumptuous dinner, at the Mother Melldrum inn--for now
that good lady was dead, and her name and face set on a
sign-post--to which I was invited, so that it was as
good as a summons. And if my health was no better next
day, it was not from want of good wishes, any more than
from stint of the liquor.
It is needless to say that the real gentry for a long
time treated my new honours with contempt and ridicule;
but gradually as they found that I was not such a fool
as to claim any equality with them, but went about my
farm-work, and threw another man at wrestling, and
touched my hat to the magistrates, just the same as
ever; some gentlemen of the highest blood--of which we
think a great deal more than of gold, around our
neighbourhood--actually expressed a desire to make my
acquaintance. And when, in a manner quite
straightforward, and wholly free from bitterness, I
thanked them for this (which appeared to me the highest
honour yet offered me), but declined to go into their
company because it would make me uncomfortable, and
themselves as well, in a different way, they did what
nearly all Englishmen do, when a thing is right and
sensible. They shook hands with me; and said that they
could not deny but that there was reason in my view of
the matter. And although they themselves must be the
losers--which was a handsome thing to say--they would
wait until I was a little older and more aware of my
own value.
Now this reminds me how it is that an English gentleman
is so far in front of foreign noblemen and princes. I
have seen at times, a little, both of one and of the
other, and making more than due allowance for the
difficulties of language, and the difference of
training, upon the whole, the balance is in favour of
our people. And this, because we have two weights,
solid and (even in scale of manners) outweighing all
light complaisance; to wit, the inborn love of justice,
and the power of abiding.
Yet some people may be surprised that men with any love
of justice, whether inborn or otherwise, could continue
to abide the arrogance, and rapacity, and tyranny of
the Doones.
For now as the winter passed, the Doones were not
keeping themselves at home, as in honour they were
bound to do. Twenty sheep a week, and one fat ox, and
two stout red deer (for wholesome change of diet), as
well as threescore bushels of flour, and two hogsheads
and a half of cider, and a hundredweight of candles,
not to mention other things of almost every variety
which they got by insisting upon it--surely these might
have sufficed to keep the people in their place, with
no outburst of wantonness. Nevertheless, it was not
so; they had made complaint about something--too much
ewe-mutton, I think it was--and in spite of all the
pledges given, they had ridden forth, and carried away
two maidens of our neighbourhood.
Now these two maidens were known, because they had
served the beer at an ale-house; and many men who had
looked at them, over a pint or quart vessel (especially
as they were comely girls), thought that it was very
hard for them to go in that way, and perhaps themselves
unwilling. And their mother (although she had taken
some money, which the Doones were always full of)
declared that it was a robbery; and though it increased
for a while the custom, that must soon fall off again.
And who would have her two girls now, clever as they
were and good?
Before we had finished meditating upon this loose
outrage--for so I at least would call it, though people
accustomed to the law may take a different view of
it--we had news of a thing far worse, which turned the
hearts of our women sick. This I will tell in most
careful language, so as to give offence to none, if
skill of words may help it. *
* (The following story is strictly true; and true it is
that the country-people rose, to a man, at this dastard
cruelty, and did what the Government failed to do.--Ed.)
Mistress Margery Badcock, a healthy and upright young
woman, with a good rich colour, and one of the finest
hen-roosts anywhere round our neighbourhood, was
nursing her child about six of the clock, and looking
out for her husband. Now this child was too old to be
nursed, as everybody told her; for he could run, say
two yards alone, and perhaps four or five, by holding
to handles. And he had a way of looking round, and
spreading his legs, and laughing, with his brave little
body well fetched up, after a desperate journey to the
end of the table, which his mother said nothing could
equal. Nevertheless, he would come to be nursed, as
regular as a clock, almost; and, inasmuch as he was the
first, both father and mother made much of him; for God
only knew whether they could ever compass such another
one.
Christopher Badcock was a tenant farmer, in the parish
of Martinhoe, renting some fifty acres of land, with a
right of common attached to them; and at this
particular time, being now the month of February, and
fine open weather, he was hard at work ploughing and
preparing for spring corn. Therefore his wife was not
surprised although the dusk was falling, that farmer
Christopher should be at work in 'blind man's holiday,'
as we call it.
But she was surprised, nay astonished, when by the
light of the kitchen fire (brightened up for her
husband), she saw six or seven great armed men burst
into the room upon her; and she screamed so that the
maid in the back kitchen heard her, but was afraid to
come to help. Two of the strongest and fiercest men at
once seized poor young Margery; and though she fought
for her child and home, she was but an infant herself
in their hands. In spite of tears, and shrieks, and
struggles, they tore the babe from the mother's arms,
and cast it on the lime ash floor; then they bore her
away to their horses (for by this time she was
senseless), and telling the others to sack the house,
rode off with their prize to the valley. And from the
description of one of those two, who carried off the
poor woman, I knew beyond all doubt that it was Carver
Doone himself.
The other Doones being left behind, and grieved perhaps
in some respects, set to with a will to scour the
house, and to bring away all that was good to eat. And
being a little vexed herein (for the Badcocks were not
a rich couple) and finding no more than bacon, and
eggs, and cheese, and little items, and nothing to
drink but water; in a word, their taste being offended,
they came back, to the kitchen, and stamped; and there
was the baby lying.
By evil luck, this child began to squeal about his
mother, having been petted hitherto, and wont to get
all he wanted, by raising his voice but a little. Now
the mark of the floor was upon his head, as the maid
(who had stolen to look at him, when the rough men were
swearing upstairs) gave evidence. And she put a dish-
cloth under his head, and kissed him, and ran away
again. Her name was Honour Jose, and she meant what
was right by her master and mistress; but could not
help being frightened. And many women have blamed her,
as I think unduly, for her mode of forsaking baby so.
If it had been her own baby, instinct rather than
reason might have had the day with her; but the child
being born of her mistress, she wished him good luck,
and left him, as the fierce men came downstairs. And
being alarmed by their power of language (because they
had found no silver), she crept away in a breathless
hurry, and afraid how her breath might come back to
her. For oftentime she had hiccoughs.
While this good maid was in the oven, by side of
back-kitchen fireplace, with a faggot of wood drawn
over her, and lying so that her own heart beat worse
than if she were baking; the men (as I said before)
came downstairs, and stamped around the baby.
'Rowland, is the bacon good?' one of them asked with an
oath or two; 'it is too bad of Carver to go off with
the only prize, and leave us in a starving cottage; and
not enough to eat for two of us. Fetch down the staves
of the rack, my boy. What was farmer to have for
supper?'
'Naught but an onion or two, and a loaf and a rasher of
rusty bacon. These poor devils live so badly, they are
not worth robbing.'
'No game! Then let us have a game of loriot with the
baby! It will be the best thing that could befall a
lusty infant heretic. Ride a cock-horse to Banbury
Cross. Bye, bye, baby Bunting; toss him up, and let me
see if my wrist be steady.'
The cruelty of this man is a thing it makes me sick to
speak of; enough that when the poor baby fell (without
attempt at cry or scream, thinking it part of his usual
play, when they tossed him up, to come down again), the
maid in the oven of the back-kitchen, not being any
door between, heard them say as follows,--
'If any man asketh who killed thee,
Say 'twas the Doones of Bagworthy.' *
* (Always pronounced 'Badgery.')
Now I think that when we heard this story, and poor Kit
Badcock came all around, in a sort of half-crazy
manner, not looking up at any one, but dropping his
eyes, and asking whether we thought he had been
well-treated, and seeming void of regard for life, if
this were all the style of it; then having known him a
lusty man, and a fine singer in an ale-house, and much
inclined to lay down the law, as show a high hand about
women, I really think that it moved us more than if he
had gone about ranting, and raving, and vowing revenge
upon every one.
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