_From the Military Memoir of Capt. J. de Courcy, late of the North Wilts
Regiment_.
There were four of us on top of the coach that night--the driver,
the guard, the corporal and I--all well muffled up and swathed about the
throat against the northwest wind; and we carried but one inside
passenger, though he snored enough for six. You could hear him above the
chink of the swingle-bars and the drumming of our horses' hoofs on the
miry road. What this inside fare was like I had no means of telling;
for when the corporal and I overtook the coach at Torpoint Ferry he was
already seated, and being served through the door with hot kidney pasty
and hot brandy-and-water. He had travelled down from London--so I learned
from the coachman by whose side I sat; and as soon as he ceased cursing
the roads, the inns, the waiters, the weather and the country generally,
his snores began to shake the vehicle under us as with the throes of Etna
in labour.
The corporal squatted behind me with his feet on the treasure-chest and
his loaded musket across his thighs, and the guard yet farther back on the
roof nursing a blunderbuss and chanting to himself the dolefullest tune.
For me I sat drumming my heels, with chin sunk deep within the collar of
my greatcoat, one hand in its left hip-pocket and the other thrust through
the breast-opening, where my fingers touched the butts of a brace of
travelling pistols.
I was senior ensign of my regiment (the North Wilts), and my business was
to overtake a couple of waggons that had started some seven or eight hours
ahead of us with a consignment of pay-money to be delivered at Falmouth,
where two of His Majesty's cruisers lay on the point of sailing for the
West Indies. The chest over which I mounted guard had arrived late from
London: it was labelled "supplementary," and my responsibilities would end
as soon as I transferred it to the lieutenant in charge of the waggons,
which never moved above a walking-pace, and always, when conveying
treasure, under escort of eight or ten soldiers or marines.
"Russell's Waggons," they were called, and there was no record of their
having being attacked.
The country, to which I was a stranger, appeared wild enough, with
hedgeless downs rolling up black and unshapely against the night.
But the coachman, who guessed what we carried, assured me that he had
always found the road perfectly safe. I remember asking him how long he
had been driving upon it: to which he gave no more direct answer than that
he had been born in these parts and knew them better than his Bible.
"And the same you may say of Jim," he added, with a jerk of his whip back
towards the guard.
"He has a cheerful taste in tunes," I remarked.
The fellow chuckled. "That's his favourite. 'My Lady's Coach' he calls
it, and--come to think of it--I never heard him sing any other."
"It doesn't sound like Tantivey." I strained my ears for the words of the
guard's song, and heard--
"The wheels go round without a sound
Or tramp or [inaudible] of whip--"
The words next following were either drowned by the wind or muffled and
smothered in the man's neck-cloths; but by-and-by I caught another line or
two--
"Ho! ho! my lady saith,
Step in and ride with me:
She takes the baby, white as death,
And jigs him on her knee.
The wheels go round without a sound--"
This seemed to be the refrain.
"The wheels go round without a sound
Or [inaudible again] horse's tread,
My lady's breath is foul as death,
Her driver has no head--"
"Huh!" grunted I, sinking my shoulders deeper in my overcoat. "A nice sort
of vehicle to meet, say on a night like this, at the next turn of the
road!"
The man peered at me suddenly, and leaned forward to shorten his reins,
for we were on the edge of a steepish dip downhill. The lamplight shone
on his huge forearm (as thick as an ordinary man's thigh) and on his
clumsy, muffled hands.
"Well, and so we might," he answered, picking up his whip again and
indicating the dark moorland on our left. "That's if half the tales be
true."
"Haunted?" I asked, scanning the darkness.
"Opposition coach--hearse and pair, driven by the Old Gentleman hisself.
For my part, I don't believe a word of it. Leastways, I've driven along
here often enough, and in most weathers, and I ha'n't met it yet."
"You're taking this bit pretty confidently anyhow," was my comment, as he
shortened rein again; for the hill proved to be a precipitous one, and the
horses, held back against the weight of the coach, went down the slope
with much sprawling of hind-quarters and kicking up of loose stones.
"Don't you put on the skid for this, as a rule?"
"Well, now, as you say, it might be wiser. This half-thaw makes the roads
cruel greasy." With a tremendous wrench he dragged the team to a
standstill. "Jim, my lad, hop down and give her the shoe."
I heard Jim clambering down, then the loud rattle of the chain as he
unhitched the shoe, not interrupting his song, however--
"Ho! ho! my lady saith,
Step in and ride with me:
She takes the bride as white as death--"
"Hold up, there!" commanded a voice out of the darkness on my left.
"Hullo!" I whipped out one of my pistols and faced the sound, at the same
instant shouting to the driver: "Quick, man! duck your head and give 'em
the whip! Curse you for a coward--don't sit there hesitating!--the whip,
I say, and put 'em at it!"
But the fellow would not budge. I turned, leaned past him, plucked the
whip from its socket, and lashed out at the leaders. They plunged forward
as a bullet sang over my head; but before they could break into a gallop
the driver had wrenched them back again on their haunches. The coach gave
a lurch or two and once more came to a standstill.
"Look here," said a voice almost at my feet, "you take it quiet, or you'll
be hurt!" and a pair of hands reached up and gripped the footboard.
I let fly at the man with my pistol and at the same moment heard the
corporal's musket roar out behind my ear. Then I tried to do what I
should have done at first, and whipped out my second pistol to lay its
muzzle against the driver's cheek.
But by this time half a dozen dark figures were scrambling along the roof
from the rear, and as I swung round I felt a sudden heavy push against my
shoulder, tottered for a moment, trod forward upon air, and went
sprawling, almost headlong, over the side of the coach.
Luckily I struck a furze-bush first, but for all that I hit the turf with
a thud that stunned me, as I must believe, for a minute at least.
For when next I opened my eyes driver and guard were standing helpless in
the light of the lamps, while a couple of highwaymen dragged my chest off
the roof. Another stood by the heads of the leaders, and yet another was
spread on the footboard, with his head and shoulders well buried in the
boot. The rest had gathered in the rear about the coach door in
altercation with the inside passenger. Close behind the near hind wheel
lay the corporal, huddled and motionless.
My head darted pain as though it had been opened with a saw, and as I
lifted myself and groped about for my pistols, I discovered that my
collar-bone was broken and my hip-muscles had taken a bad wrench.
Hurt as I was, though, I managed to find one of my pistols, and crawling
until I had the coach-door in view, sank into the ditch and began to
reload.
The men at the rear of the coach were inviting the inside fare to come
forth and hand over his money; which he very roundly refused to do, using
the oddest argument; for he declared himself so far gone in consumption
that the night air was as bad as death to him, the while that the noise he
made proclaimed his lungs as strong as a horse's. This inconsistency
struck the robbers, no doubt, for after a while a pistol was clapped in at
the window and he was bidden to step forth without more ado.
But for my misery I could have laughed aloud at the queer figure that at
length shuffled out and stood in the light of a lantern held to examine
his money. In height he could not have been more than five feet two; and
to say that he was as broad as he was long would be no lie, for never in
my life have I seen a man so wrapped up. He wore a travelling cap tightly
drawn about the ears, and round his neck a woollen comforter so voluminous
that his head, though large (as I afterwards discovered), seemed a button
set on top of it. I dare be sworn that he unbuttoned six overcoats before
he reached his fob and drew out watch and purse.
"There," he said, handing over the money, "take it--seven good guineas--
with my very hearty curse."
The robbers--they were masked to a man--pressed forward around the lantern
to count the coins.
"Give us your word," said one, "that you've no more stowed about you."
"I won't," answered the old gentleman. "All the word you'll get from me
is to see you hanged if I can. If you think it worth while, search me."
Just then they were summoned by a shout from the coach roof to help in
lowering my treasure. My pistol was reloaded by this time, and I lifted
myself to take aim and account for one of the scoundrels at least: but in
the effort my broken bone played me false; my hand shook, then dropped,
and I sank upon my face in a swoon of pain.
I came back to consciousness to find myself propped on the edge of the
ditch against a milestone. The coach was gone. Driver, guard,
highwaymen, even the corporal's body, had disappeared also. But just
before me in the road, under the light of a newly-risen waning moon, stood
the inside passenger, hopping first on one leg then on the other for
warmth; and indeed the villains had despoiled him of three of his
greatcoats.
I sat up, groaned, and tried to lift my hands to my face. My companion
ceased hopping about and regarded me with interest.
"Lost money?" he inquired.
"Public money," I answered, and groaned again. "It means ruin for me," I
added.
"Well," said he, "I've lost my own--every stiver about me." He began to
hop about again, halted, and began to wag his forefinger at me slowly.
"Come, come, what's the use? I'm sorry for you, but where's your heart?"