LAUNCESTON CASTLE.
Concerning my journey to Launceston there is but little need to describe
in detail. Except that it was long and wearisome it calls but for few
remarks. On our way thither we passed through Bodmin, where was a jail,
and where the assizes were periodically held. I asked why I was not
imprisoned there, seeing it was so much nearer Trevanion than
Launceston, and would thus save a long journey, but the men in whose
custody I was made no reply. Indeed we did not stay at Bodmin at all.
Instead we made our way towards the Bodmin moors, and passed through one
of the dreariest regions it has ever been my lot to see. The journey
through the night, from Wadebridge to Roche Rock, was awesome enough,
but it was cheerful compared with our wanderings through that waste land
which lies between the town of Bodmin and the village of Lewannick, a
distance of something like twenty miles. Besides, in the ride to Roche
Rock I was excited, I breathed the air of romance and adventure; a young
girl who I was even then learning to love rode by my side, and I had but
little time to think of the lonely district through which we rode. Now I
was a prisoner, my destination was one of the county jails, where I
should have to lie until such time as I should be tried for treason. All
this made the bare brown moors look more desolate. We had to ride
slowly, too, for there were innumerable bogs and quagmires, and no
proper roads had been made. One spot especially impressed me. It was
that known as Dozmary Pool, about which numberless wild tales had been
told. Legend had it that it had no bottom, and that Tregeagle, about
whose terrible fate all the children in Cornwall had heard, was
condemned to scoop out its dark waters with a limpet shell in order to
atone for his sins. Of the legend I thought but little, but the supposed
scene of his trials was enough to strike terror into the bravest heart.
The pool is as black as ink, and is situated in the midst of uninhabited
moorland. Early spring as it was, the wind howled dismally across the
weary waste, and my custodians shuddered as they rode along, for truly
it required little imagination to believe that the devil must delight to
hold his revels there. I have since thought that if I had played upon
the superstitious fears of my guards I should have had but little
difficulty in effecting my escape.
After we had left the Bodmin Moors, we came upon those situated in the
parish of Altarnun, and these were, if possible, less cheerful than the
other, for on our right hand rose a ghastly-looking hill on which
nothing grew, and whose gray, forbidding rocky peaks made us long to get
into civilized regions again. By and by, however, after passing through
a hamlet called Bolven Tor we came to Altarnun, where we rested for
nearly two hours, and then made our way towards Launceston.
It was quite dark when we entered the town, so I was able to form but
little conception of it. Even in the darkness, however, I could see the
dim outline of a huge building lifting its dark head into the night sky.
"Launceston Castle!" remarked one of my companions.
"Am I to stop there?" I asked. "Is it a prison?"
"I don't know exactly," was the reply; "you'll find out soon enough for
your own comfort, I dare say."
Upon this we came up to a high wall which was covered with ivy, and
behind which great trees grew. The sight of the walls was oppressive
enough, but the trees looked like old friends, and reminded me of the
great oaks which grew around Trevanion.
"Here's a door," cried one, "let's knock." Whereupon the fellow knocked
loudly, and soon afterwards I heard the sound of footsteps.
"What want you?" said a voice.
"A prisoner," was the reply.
"Take him to the lock-up," was the answer. "This is not the place for
constables to bring drunken men."
"If it please you, we be not constables," replied one of my companions.
"We have come from my Lord Falmouth, with a prisoner of quality, and I
carry important papers."
"But it is not for me to examine them," replied the voice, "and Master
Hugh Pyper is gone to a supper to-night at South Petherwin, and God only
knows when he will be back. Moreover, when he comes I much doubt whether
he will be fit to read such papers."
"In Heaven's name, why?"
"Because Sir Geoffry Luscombe keeps the best wine in the county, and
because whenever Master Hugh Pyper goes there he thinks he is bound by
conscience not to leave until he has drunk until he can drink no more."
"And this Master Hugh Pyper is the constable and keeper of the jail and
castle? I know he is, for such is the name written on my papers."
"Well, I will open the door," grumbled the man from within, "but I wish
you had chosen some other time. To-morrow morning, up to twelve o'clock,
Master Pyper will be asleep, and from then until late to-morrow night he
will give no man a civil word. You say your prisoner is a man of
quality?"
"That he is."
"All the same, I shall have to put him into a common jail until Master
Pyper is able to read what you have brought."
We passed through the door as he spoke, and the man who had been
speaking, and who held a lantern in his hand, looked at me keenly.
"I wish gentlefolk would keep out of trouble," he grumbled; "if they
did, I should keep out of trouble. Master Pyper is always in a
villainous temper whenever a man of quality is made prisoner. But come
this way."
I expected to be taken to the castle itself, but in this I was mistaken.
South of this ancient pile, and away from the main structure, I noticed
a long low building, towards which I was led. The man who held the
lantern gave a whistle, whereupon another fellow appeared on the scene.
"All quiet, Jenkins?" he asked.
"Oal gone to slaip, sur. They've been braave and noisy, but they be oal
right now."
"You have an empty cell?"
"Iss, Mr. Lethbridge, there es wawn."
"Open it."
A few seconds later I had entered an evil-smelling hole, which as far as
I could see was about eight feet square and five feet high. On one side
was a heap of straw, in another a bench.
"Are you hungry?" asked the man called Lethbridge.
"I was before I entered this hole," I replied. "I cannot eat here."
"There have been as good as you who have eaten there," he replied.
Then, after hesitating a second, he went on, "You would like to pay for
a decent supper I expect."
"For the whole lot of you if we can have a clean place," was my answer.
Mr. Lethbridge looked around. "Every man is innocent until he is proved
guilty," he remarked sententiously, "and thus before trial every
prisoner is allowed certain privileges. Come back again, sir."
I therefore accompanied him to what seemed like a tower, situated
southwest of the gate at which he had entered.
"This is the Witch's Tower," remarked Mr. Lethbridge. "A witch was once
burnt here, but she will not disturb us. John Jenkins, you know where to
get a good supper. The best you know!" The man gave a grin and walked
away in evident good humour.
"John Jenkins is always willing to do little errands," remarked Mr.
Lethbridge, "and he only expects a trifle. The people to whom he's gone
will send a good supper and not be unreasonable. Do not be downhearted,
sir."
Bad as was my condition, I was cheered at the thought of a good meal
which might be eaten amidst clean surroundings, and although the room
under the Witch's Tower was not cheerful, it was dry and clean. A few
minutes later a decent supper was brought, of which we all partook
heartily. Mr. Lethbridge was the best trencherman among us, although he
assured us at starting that having had supper he would be able to eat
nothing. The amount of wine he consumed, too, was astounding, especially
as he was constantly telling us that unlike his master, Hugh Pyper, the
Governor of the Castle, he was but an indifferent drinker. Presently,
however, when both he and the men who had escorted me from Trevanion had
become fairly drunk, I was informed that I might stay in the Witch's
Tower for the night, while they would go to Mr. Lethbridge's lodge and
drink my health in some more wine that they would order in my name.
I was glad to be rid of them, for dreary and lonely as the Witch's Tower
was, Jenkins had brought some straw for me to lie on, and I felt very
tired. I could not sleep, however. I had too many things to think about,
for in truth the events of the last few days were beyond my
comprehension. I was weary with wondering, too. In spite of myself I had
become enmeshed in a network of mysteries, and, seemingly without
reason, my very life might be in danger. But more than all, I was
ignorant concerning the fortunes of the maid Nancy Molesworth, and I
would have given up willingly the thing dearest to me on earth to know
of her safety.
I will not try to write down all my anxieties, and hopes, and fears. I
will not try to tell of the mad feelings which possessed me, of the wild
projects I dreamed about, or of the love which grew hourly more ardent,
and yet more hopeless. Those who have read this history will, if the
fires of youth run in their veins, or if they remember the time when
they were young and buoyant, know what I longed for, and what I
suffered.
The following morning Master Lethbridge came to me and informed me that
my companions of the previous day had started on their journey home, and
that in remembrance of my generosity of the previous night,--with a hint
concerning his hopes of future favours,--he intended braving the
governor's anger, and would allow me to occupy the Witch's Tower until
such time as Master Hugh Pyper should be inclined to speak with me. He
also assured me that he would allow me to walk about within the
precincts of the castle walls, but warned me against any attempt at
escape, as warders were constantly on the watch and would not hesitate
to shoot me dead.
Although I did not believe this, I could not at that time see the wisdom
in trying to escape, so I wandered round the castle grounds thinking
over my condition and over my prospects. It is true I had not seen
Master Hugh Pyper, the governor of the Castle, but it was not difficult
to see that he was somewhat lax of discipline. As for that matter,
however, the place was, I suspect, no better and no worse governed than
many other county prisons throughout the country. The jail itself,
however, was a wretched, noisome, evil-smelling place, where the
convicted and unconvicted suffered alike, and I dreaded the thought of
being removed from the Witch's Tower and placed in the common prison. I
discovered that I might possibly have to stay two months in the place
before my trial came off, as the spring assizes were often delayed as
late as the end of May, or even the beginning of June. It was,
therefore, a matter of considerable anxiety to me as to the kind of man
Hugh Pyper might prove to be, for on him would depend my well-being. I
remembered that my father had spoken of Sir Hugh Pyper, the grandfather
of the present governor, who after the restoration of the monarchy was
rewarded for his good service in the cause of the King by a grant of the
castle as lessee, and was made constable and keeper of the jail. I
assumed that the position was hereditary, and doubtless the present
castle governor would be invested with large powers.
As to the place itself, apart from the unhealthy condition of the jail,
it is fair, and long to be remembered. The castle stands on a fine
eminence, and is surrounded by several acres of land. Under ordinary
circumstances I could have wished for no more pleasant place of
residence. The spring leaves were bursting everywhere, and every plant
and shrub gave promise that in a few days the country-side, which I
could plainly see from the Witch's Tower, would be a scene of much
beauty. My mind and heart, however, were so full of anxiety that I
fretted and fumed beyond measure, and panted for freedom as a thirsty
horse pants for water. I wanted to search for Nancy, to be assured of
her safety, and to fight for her if needs be. I longed, too, to solve
the many problems which faced me, not by quietly musing in solitude, but
by daring action in the world outside. For unlike some men, I can think
best when I have work to do. I cannot plan anything from the beginning.
My mind is so ordered that I desire only to decide definitely on the
first steps to be taken in any enterprise and then to be guided by
circumstances.
I was brought before Master Hugh Pyper on the evening of the day after
my imprisonment, and at a glance I saw that he corresponded with the
picture I had drawn of him from Lethbridge's description. That he fed
well and drank much wine no one could fail to see. He was a big, burly
man, too, and I thought not of a very cautious nature. The papers which
had been signed by Viscount Falmouth lay before him as I entered the
room where he sat, and which he had been evidently reading.
"Roger Trevanion," he cried, "I am sorry to see you here. Why, man
alive, can't you see how foolish it is to oppose the King! God is always
on the side of the kings, man, always. That's what my grandfather, Sir
Hugh, always said, and that's what I always say. Stick to the reigning
monarch! I knew your father, too. A man with a proud temper, but a good
fellow withal. He could drink well, could your father--drink all
night--and then be as merry as a lark in the morning. I can't; I must
have six good hours of sleep after as many with the bottle, and woe
betide the man who disturbs me! but after that I am as gay as your
father was. Now then, what have you been doing?"
"Nothing wrong," I replied quietly.
"But Boscawen shows a clear case against you. If all this is proved at
the assizes, by Gad, your neck will stretch."
Upon this I spoke freely. I told Pyper that I was guilty of no treason,
that circumstances seemed against me, but that King George had no truer
subject than I. I made him believe me, too, for his manner became quite
sympathetic.
"The Killigrews of Endellion!" he cried, when I had finished my history.
"Ah, lad, they are as deep as Dozmary Pool and as full of evil. No one
knows what they are. Some say they are no better than a gang of robbers,
others that they are angels of light. One report hath it that they are
plotting treason against the King, another that they spend their time in
finding out traitors and bringing them to book. Sir John Dingle believes
that they intend sailing with the wind. If the Pretender's cause fails,
as doubtless it will, for England will have no high monarchy and no
popery, these Killigrews will put in a strong plea for reward; but if
this young Charles ousts King George, which God forbid, then they will
prove that they have raised an army for him. But you can't catch 'em,
Roger Trevanion. Did you ever catch eels? I have; but it's slippery
work, slippery work. You must sand your hands well, and then they are so
slimy that they will slide through your fingers."
"I believe all that, and I know there is a _prima facie_ case against
me. But I dare not tell all." This I said hesitatingly, for I hardly
knew my man.
"Daren't tell all; what do you mean?"
"Well, it is true I went to Endellion; true that I said many of the
things laid to my charge, but my visit there had nothing to do with
political matters."
"What then? A woman?"
I was silent, and I felt the hot blood rush to my face.
"A woman! ha! ha!" laughed Pyper. "But did you tell my Lord Falmouth of
this?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I dared not, I feared to do her harm."
"But who is she? Tell me the history of the business. Look you,
Trevanion, I am sorry you are here; I know your family--who
doesn't?--and I should like to see you well out of this trouble. You see
I am not treating you like a prisoner."
"I can tell you a little, but a very little," I replied. "Perhaps I
ought to tell you more than I do; but I am bound by promises. I went to
Endellion to carry away a lady from the house."
"By Gad, you did! and you succeeded, you dog?"
"I did."
"Who is the lady?"
Thereupon I told Pyper all I dared: enough, as I thought, to explain the
position in which I was placed, but not enough to break my faith with
Trevisa or to be of any service to the Killigrews.
"But why did you seek to take the maid away?"
"That I cannot tell at present," I replied.
He was thoughtful for a second, and I began to see that Hugh Pyper had
more brains that I had given him credit for; then he said:
"And the name of this maid, Roger Trevanion?"
I hesitated for a second.
"I think I know," he went on. "Is she not the child of Godfrey
Molesworth?"
"Did you know him?" I asked
"Know him!" he cried, "well. Why the woman he married was some relation
of the Killigrews, that is why old Colman became guardian of the child.
The mother was Irish. Godfrey Molesworth went to Ireland to marry her."
"Was she a Catholic then?"
"Yes. There was much talk about it at the time, for Godfrey was a strong
Protestant."
My heart gave a leap, for I remembered some words which had dropped from
the lips of the Irish priest at Padstow. But I dared not mention them to
Pyper, they might have serious issues and explain much. They must be
pondered carefully, too.
After this, many more questions were asked and answered, but they led to
nothing; neither need I write them down here. At the same time my
further conversation with this florid-looking old governor of Launceston
Castle revealed the fact that, in spite of his freedom in eating and
drinking, he was a keen observer of men and things, and was not easily
deceived.
"I must keep you here, Roger Trevanion," he said presently, "for I have
my duty to perform; but I will make your stay here as pleasant as
possible. You shall not stay in the ordinary prison, but shall continue
to occupy the Witch's Tower. As far as food is concerned, too, you shall
be well supplied, even though I have to send it from my own table. But I
am doubtful as to the future, lad."
"You think judge and jury will find me guilty?"
"It will be to the Killigrews' interest to be against you, I am afraid.
As far as I can see, only one thing can save you."
"And that?" I cried eagerly.
"That the maid Nancy Molesworth shall appear on your behalf, and tell
the truth concerning you."
"I do not know where she is."
"But you can find out. You know where you took her."
"No. She has left the place to which I took her, and no one knows
whither she has gone."
He looked at me keenly for some seconds, as if trying to find out if
there was anything behind the words I had spoken. Presently he said: "If
I were you I would engage the keenest lawyer in Cornwall to find out,
and so prepare a case."
"I have done that. I suppose he will be allowed to visit me?"
"Yes, I shall allow you to have visitors. But mind, my lad, I can allow
no trying to escape. You are a dead man if you do!"
As I sat in the Witch's Tower afterwards, I pondered over what he had
said. In truth, my case was more serious than I had thought. I saw that
did I not speak out boldly my life was in imminent danger, for the King
was very bitter against those who appeared to side with the Pretender.
To say that I longed for freedom would be but faintly to describe my
feelings! Yet what could I do?
After I had been a prisoner for some time, I determined to try and
escape. Every day the conviction grew upon me that the maid Nancy needed
me. In my dreams I saw her hiding from her pursuers, I saw her at the
mercy of the Killigrews, and when I awoke I thought I heard her crying
to me to come and help her.
As the days went by, too, I became nervous. Lying alone in the silence
of the Witch's Tower, and remembering all the stories I heard from
Lethbridge concerning the life of the woman who had been burnt there, I
became the prey of morbid fears. Often at night I thought I saw her
lifting her skinny hands out of the fire which consumed her and fancied
I could hear her dying cries. I, who had laughed at foolish
superstitions and prided myself on my firm nerves, shuddered each day at
the thought of the coming night, and when night came I suffered the
torments of the lost.
And yet I dared not ask to leave the tower, for if I did I should
doubtless be put in the common jail. Here not only would my surroundings
be filthy and the atmosphere sickening, but I should be thrown into
contact with the other prisoners.
Added to this, my chances of escape would be much lessened, for the
place was on the whole strictly guarded. Whereas while at the Witch's
Tower I was comparatively unmolested, I had a view of the world outside,
and I thought I saw means whereby I might, if fortunate, obtain my
liberty. To effect this I should have to bribe one of the jailers, and
my plans would take several days to carry out. Nevertheless, if there
was any chance of getting away from Launceston Castle, the fact of my
occupying the dismal chamber I have mentioned gave it me.
I therefore determined to suffer all the ghastly spectres of the mind
which came to me during the night rather than seek to exchange my
prison.
When I had been at Launceston jail about three weeks I received
information that a man was about to visit me. Wondering as to whom it
might be, I awaited his coming eagerly. At first I thought it might be
Mr. Hendy, the attorney, but I quickly discovered my mistake. It was not
the lawyer's figure that I saw coming across the castle yard towards me.
For the moment, indeed, I could not make out who my visitor was. He
looked like a fairly prosperous yeoman, and was, as far as I could see,
a stranger to me. But this was only for a minute. I quickly penetrated
the evident disguise, and felt sure that the man was Otho Killigrew.