_THE MUTTERING OF THE STORM._
There was a sense of mystery in the air. Life seemed to be flowing in
its accustomed channels and with its wonted smoothness; but yet there
was an under-current of excitement and unrest which surged through
everything and kept every heart beating with expectancy, every ear
alert to catch the first breath of rumour, every eye eagerly scanning
the faces even of the passer-by in the street, lest haply he might be
the bearer of those tidings which some of us longed and some of us
feared to hear.
Taunton appeared quiet and peaceable. Mr. Bernard Smith, our Mayor, a
man of some force of character, some cruelty of nature, and of known
loyalty to the reigning sovereign, kept a close watch upon us, and let
it be very clearly understood that upon the smallest indication of
disturbance he should call in the train-bands and keep order by strong
methods. He was seconded in his good intentions by the influence of
the country gentlemen round. Sir William Portman often appeared in the
city, and stayed for a few nights in his fine old timbered house, with
its many gables, that is still the pride of Taunton amongst those
who are learned in the matter of domestic architecture. He frequently
appeared in the streets, and when occasion served spoke to the people
in such a way as to encourage them to maintain tranquillity and avoid
giving cause of offence. Lord Lonsdale and Sir Ralph Bridges followed
his example, and were often to be seen in the city, forward to impart
to us any items of news from London likely to be acceptable in our
ears, and striving to rid our minds of some of the many convictions
which recent events had stamped upon them, and especially of that most
favourite one--namely, that King Charles had met his death by poison,
and that this poison had been administered by the hand of his brother.
But there are some impressions quickly made upon the minds of men
which no after labour will efface. We had heard from trusty men of
our own party of the black spots which had appeared upon the King's
body, of the agonies of pain which had convulsed him, of the sleepless
attendance of his dark brother at his bedside, and we thought we
knew better than our Mayor or our nobles. So though we listened in
respectful silence to their words, our hearts remained unconvinced.
We hated the Duke of York (for there were some who would not speak of
him as the King save where prudence compelled) with a deadly hatred,
and prayed day and night for deliverance from his malevolent power.
Now as for my own private concerns at this time, I may speak once again
of those rides taken in attendance upon the two Mistresses Mary, which
began after the inclement winter had passed, and were continued until
the great commotion commenced of which I am about to write.
These rides were a source of the greatest pleasure and satisfaction to
all concerned; for by means of them the Viscount was able to prosecute
his wooing of gentle Mistress Mary, and we were no longer reduced to
the more risky if more romantic method of the balcony meetings.
It was easy for me to let my Lord Vere know when and whither we were
to ride forth. He was backwards and forwards between Court House and
Taunton many times in the week, like most of the gentry round, and I
would make shift to give him the news he wanted. Then upon our next
ride, when we were deep in some woodland dell or away across some
lonely bit of breezy moorland, the Viscount would ride up, saluting the
ladies, and before long the younger Mistress Mary would rein back her
steed and join me, leaving the lovers to pace on in front side by side,
in the loneliness so dear to all in like case.
Mistress Mary Bridges, albeit but a maid of twelve summers, was
wondrous full of life and spirit and imagination. She would talk to me
in a fashion which made me marvel at her high courage and dauntless
nature; and openly did she lament that she was not a man, so that she
might bear a man's part in the struggle which she fully believed was
coming.
She came of a family loyal to the Court party and to the reigning
sovereign; yet she had heard so much of the other side from her
mistresses and comrades in the school, that she might be said scarce to
hold either with one party or the other, and in truth this was what
she openly averred to be her case.
"If I were but a man," she would cry with kindling eyes, "I would have
my own good steed and my own good sword, and I would follow no party,
but always fight on the side of right and virtue. I would gather about
me a band of followers, as did bold Robin Hood of old, and I would be
the champion of truth and liberty and righteousness wherever such were
to be found. I hate that false and cruel King James, who will stoop to
fondle such vile creatures as Jeffreys and Kirke. Yet I love not your
Duke of Monmouth, who can keep a crawling knave like Ferguson in his
counsels, and who leaves his virtuous wife and seeks happiness with
another fair lady. Were I a man I would follow neither, but be a free
lance for the cause of right and liberty!" And the little lady would
toss back her ringlets, whilst her face would flush and kindle till
I would regard her with admiration akin to awe, and think that a man
might well follow such a leader to the death.
But with all her high spirit and courage, she was deeply interested in
the courtship of the Viscount and her dear friend the elder Mistress
Mary, and confided to me that such a gallant lover was worthy of the
prize he had won, though there were few men she had ever seen of whom
she would say as much.
"And I trow they had best be quick and wed, even if it be done in
secret and in haste," she said one day to me, one bright day in the
latter part of May--the last ride (as it turned out, little as we
guessed it then) that we were destined to take together; "for I have
heard tell that my Lord Lonsdale is anxious to push on his son's
marriage with Mistress Edith Portman with all the speed that may be. He
thinks that the alliance would be desirable and strengthening for both
houses; and the lady is more than willing, since the Viscount is the
most gallant youth in these parts. That is why Mr. Nicholas Blewer's
suit has been favoured by Lord Lonsdale. He is afraid what the beauty
of Mary may effect if Lord Vere ever sees her again. He knows nothing
of our rides. He believes his son is forgetting her; but he will not be
easy in his mind till one or both are wed. What vile things men are!"
cried the little lady, with that flash in her eyes which betokened her
headstrong spirit; "they think of naught in the world but their own
advancement and their selfish ends! It was told to me, Dicon, by a wise
woman, who read my fortune in my hand and in the stars when I was but a
tender child, that I should live to slay a man with mine own hands. I
trembled when I heard it, and many a time have I lain awake of a night,
shivering at the thought; but I shiver not now. Verily I believe I
should rejoice to do such a thing were it in a righteous cause. I would
it might be the Rev. Nicholas Blewer!" and the maid clinched her right
hand and shook it towards Taunton, setting her small white teeth with a
ferocity which seemed strange in one so young.
Nor could I greatly marvel at her wrath, for I hated Mr. Blewer as one
hates a poisonous and noxious reptile. He was for ever to be seen
gliding here and there with his evil smile and stealthy step; and I
was certain that he was playing the spy wherever he had the chance.
Well did I know that he came to Miss Blake's as much to seek to learn
what was passing there as to court Mistress Mary. That the ladies knew
or suspected his motive I could not doubt, since in his presence the
silken banners were never brought forth, nor was any word spoken of
the matters so near and dear to our hearts. He himself would strive
to entrap us by seeking to lead us to pass censure on the King or his
officers, but we were all resolved not to be thus ensnared; and if cold
looks and short answers could have driven the creature away, sure Mr.
Blewer would have been long since driven from Miss Blake's parlour.
He would have been denied entrance there had the good ladies dared to
refuse it; but it was a perilous thing in those days to make an enemy
of such a man, and Lord Lonsdale's approval of his courtship made it
difficult to exclude him.
As we rode back into Taunton that day--the Viscount leaving us ere
ever we reached even the outskirts of the place, since he was very
careful never to permit himself to be seen in our company--we were
aware of a subdued tumult going on there. Men and women had gathered
at their doors or had come out into the streets. Faces were grave and
lowering--the faces, that is, of the towns-folk of our fashion of
thinking--and one could see that something had occurred greatly to
disturb the minds of men.
I dared not pause to ask the reason for it. I feared some disaster had
befallen our cause; but my duty to my charges kept me riding close
beside them, and, of course, they could not pause to pick up the gossip
of the streets, though both must have suspected that something unwonted
was afoot. But my curiosity was relieved sooner than I anticipated; for
Will Wiseman darted out from a side street at sight of me, and running
beside Blackbird at a brisk trot, whispered in my ears the news.
"They have thrown Mr. Vincent into prison!" he said. Now Mr. Vincent,
as I have before said, was our minister, and a right godly man, beloved
of all his flock; moreover, he was one of those who inculcated maxims
of moderation, and patience, and submission to lawful authority--one
against whom I am very sure it would be hard to prove either sedition
or any other offence. And as I exclaimed in amaze and wrath, Will
continued, speaking in the same rapid undertone only just audible
through the beat of Blackbird's hoofs, "And they have searched the
post-bags here and at Ilminster, and they say that they have found in
them enough to hang a score of men in Taunton alone. Dicon, I trow
things have gone further than you and I know. The Mayor and Mr. Axe and
the gentry have been closeted together this hour and more. Heaven send
we be not undone! I would give my right hand to know what they have
discovered!"
"I will meet thee anon and hear all I can learn!" I answered in great
excitement; "but let me first home with the ladies. I warrant that Mr.
Blewer has been at the bottom of Mr. Vincent's arrest. He always hated
him with a bitter hatred!"
A fresh shock of surprise awaited us upon our arrival at the Three
Cups; for there before the door, looking impatiently up and down
the street, stood Sir Ralph Bridges, his horse led up and down by a
servant, and several well-stuffed saddle-bags being laid over the
shoulder of the man's steed. So soon as he caught sight of the approach
of his daughter, he stepped forward and hindered her from alighting, as
she was about to do.
"I have come to take thee home, Mary," he said. "Thy place is with thy
mother now. Say an adieu to thy companion, and we will get gone. These
are no days for thee to be in Taunton."
Mistress Mary looked quickly into her father's rather stern and
preoccupied face as though she would fain have asked more. But it was
not for a young daughter to question her father's judgment, and all she
did was to ask falteringly,--
"Shall I not go to and fro, sir, to continue my studies as heretofore?"
For in other years during the summer months she had often ridden to and
fro into the town, as I think I have said, though until to-day she had
remained since Christmas beneath the roof of Miss Blake's house.
"No, child," he answered shortly, though not unkindly; "thou wilt
remain at home with thy mother. Home is thy place in days such as
these."
And in hearing the Knight speak thus, I was more sure, even than when
Will Wiseman had been whispering to me, that some unwonted peril was at
hand.
I saw that Mistress Mary Mead's eyes had kindled as she heard these
words. I read the thought of her heart as well as if it had been spoken
in words. The younger Mistress Mary turned and flung her arms about her
neck ere she slipped from her palfrey, and I heard her whisper in her
friend's ear,--
"It is coming, Mary, it is coming! Heaven send that the cause of right
and truth may be victorious! Come what may, nothing shall sever our
friendship."
Sir Ralph had already mounted, and after saluting Mistress Mary Mead
with courteous good-will, he set spurs to his horse and went clattering
down the Fore Street towards North Street with his daughter beside him.
I escorted Mistress Mary to her own door and assisted her to alight,
and as I did so she said in trembling accents, though it was not fear
that made her voice to shake,--
"Go, Dicon, and learn the truth of all this, and bring me word to my
balcony to-night. My heart tells me that the deliverer is near. There
were fear and anxiety upon the face of Sir Ralph; I am very sure of
that. The servants of the tyrant are trembling already. We are thrice
armed who know our quarrel just."
With that she turned and went quickly indoors, leaving me with my heart
in a flutter of expectation as I led the palfrey to the stable. Will
was already there, unable to keep away, and full of the most intense
excitement as to what had just transpired.
It seemed that Captain William Speke (the only member of the
Speke family who took the contrary side from the master of White
Lackington and head of the family) had made a raid on the post-bags
at Ilminster--having had notice that suspicious signs had been
noted amongst the dissenters of the Western Counties--and had made
discoveries which had caused him to send in all haste to the Mayor to
counsel him to do likewise. All the Taunton letters, however, had been
delivered save eight; but one of these eight, addressed to a certain
Mr. Cooke, a good friend of ours, had proved of so incriminating a
nature that he was at once summoned before the Mayor and magistrates,
and obliged to enter into recognizances for a thousand pounds, and
find sureties three in number for five hundred each. Mr. Simpson, Mr.
Hucker, and Mr. Herring had willingly come forward for this purpose;
and Will told me that they and the Hewlings had gathered in conclave
immediately afterwards, and that one of the brothers Hewling had
already left the town, though upon what errand he did not know.
"And what was in the letter?" I asked eagerly.
"Marry, that I cannot tell you in full. But this much is in all men's
mouths, that it spake of the appearance forthwith in the West of a
certain person, and that all the Court party in London are in a most
dreadful fear and confusion. It is rumoured, too, that in Scotland the
Earl of Argyll is destroying the King's forces right and left. Ah,
Dicon, Dicon! With a Monmouth in the south and an Argyll in the north,
what may not be done in the cause of liberty and right!"
This was news indeed, and all seemed to confirm it. As Will and I
went forth into the streets, we could not but be aware that a great
excitement was reigning. The Mayor was hurrying to and fro, and many of
his Burgesses with him, seeming scarce to know what he was doing, yet
as it were anxious to be everywhere at once to see that the town was
quiet. Mr. Axe was likewise walking the streets, but in calmer fashion,
and he sought everywhere to persuade the people to remain quiet and
orderly. The air was full of whispers and rumours. It was confidently
believed that the Duke was nigh at hand. Some said, indeed, that he had
already landed, and perhaps might be seen at any moment at the head of
a vast army of loving followers marching to the very heart of Taunton.
I knew not what to believe of all we heard; but that more news had
reached Taunton than either Will or I knew was more and more evident.
We made our way to Mr. Simpson's house, to find Lizzie in a great
state of joyful excitement; for she had heard enough to make her quite
confident that the Duke was really coming at last. There had been a
collection made of money amongst her father's friends--that she was
very certain of; and one of the brothers Hewling, she was not sure
which, had ridden off with it to the coast, ready to meet the Duke on
his landing.
Thomas Dare had had a letter from his father several days ago, in which
he had told his son that there had been some trouble in persuading the
Duke to take up arms against his uncle. He had been greatly distressed
at hearing of his father's death, and had declared at first that, since
things were as they were, he should retire into private life, and seek
no more to establish what rights he might justly claim. The Prince
of Orange had counselled him in this, and the only question under
dispute at first was whether the Duke should or should not seek to win
distinction in arms by fighting under the Emperor against the Turks,
or whether he should retire to Sweden with Lady Henrietta Wentworth,
who had followed him into exile, and to whom he considered himself
married in the sight of God, and live there in honourable banishment.
This course of action had been vehemently opposed by Heywood Dare,
who represented to him that all the West Country would rise in his
favour if he would but show himself there. Money and men would flow
in in streams, so Dare declared he had affirmed, and he called upon
his son in strong and eloquent language to do whatever in him lay to
get together men and money and arms, that when their deliverer should
appear he might find there had been no idle boasting on the part of the
citizen of Taunton. This letter had been read with closed doors amongst
a select few some weeks ago, and Thomas Dare had been already absent
from the town almost ever since, beating up recruits, and preparing
the hearts of friends for what might be expected shortly. All this
had been made known to-day to Lizzie by her aunt, and she was as full
of the excitement as we were. She told us now fully and freely of the
seven-and-twenty banners being worked by the hands of the maidens
of the school, and how they hoped to present them in person to the
gallant young Duke when he should appear in triumph at Taunton, as it
was fully believed he would do, and that right quickly.
How our hearts burned within us as we listened! We could not keep
still, nor remain long in one place. We were out in the streets
erelong, eagerly picking up every scrap of news, and finding that
rumours were flying about as thick as hail in a summer storm.
Public indignation was rising hot against the Court and the King. Not
only had the arrest of our Mr. Vincent greatly incensed the towns-folk,
but there came citizens from Ilminster to tell of the attempted arrest
of Mr. John Trenchard at White Lackington House, and how a tumult had
been made, and the Sheriffs forced to run without having secured their
prisoner. Again and again were old grievances raked up--the scandalous
trial of Richard Baxter, not many weeks old; and the notorious cruelty
and tyranny of the King.
"Heaven will fight for us and for Monmouth!" men whispered to each
other. And indeed I think that it was our hearts that were glad and
triumphant, and those of our enemies that were full of fear as the day
waned: for the Mayor looked pale and harassed and full of anxiety, I
thought; whilst as for Mr. Blewer, he was so hooted in the streets when
he showed his ugly face there, that he hastily retired to his lodgings,
and we saw him no more.
"Will," I said, as the sun went down, and we felt so little inclined
for sleep that the very idea of bed was a mockery, "what sayest thou
to a ride across the moorland to-night by moonshine, and a visit to the
witch, to know what she can tell us of what is coming? Methinks I shall
stifle within doors; but Blackbird and Lady Jane will carry us rarely,
and I can loose them, none knowing it, by a little care. Wilt come with
me?"
Will simply jumped at such a proposal. He was as loath to think of
bed as I was, and he could ride a horse barebacked right well--saddle
and stirrups were abominable to him. In the excitement and stir about
the inn, I had no trouble in getting the horses out after nightfall;
and making excuse of fatigue to my uncle, I stole away as if to bed,
but was soon mounted and scudding through the dim lanes by the side
of Will, whilst the moon rose higher and higher in the sky, giving us
abundant light. The good steeds, delighting in the freshness of the
night air, went willingly and easily; and Blackbird, so soon as we had
passed the ridge of the hill and were nearing his old home, became as
playful and skittish as a young kitten.
But it was not homewards that our steps were bent. The farm-house at
such an hour would be fast sleeping, and I had no desire to wake up the
sleepers. It was Mother Whale I desired to find and consult, and unless
she were abroad upon her broomstick, she would like enough be awake at
her fireside concocting her spells and potions; as, indeed, we found to
be the case.
Tethering our horses outside, we lifted the latch and went in, the old
woman not even turning her head as we did so, but speaking our names,
as though she had eyes in the back of her head, and by some occult
magic knew every person who approached.
"Good-even, Dicon Snowe, and thou, lad Will. Have a care, Will, lest
thou repent thy rashness in tears of blood ere the year be done. What
have you come for, boys? What is your errand here? There be fine doings
at Taunton, and will be finer yet. But beware the evil eye that will
overlook it--ay, and thee too, Will, ere this chapter close."
I do not make any effort in these pages to try to give the soft speech
and drawling vowel sounds of our West Country tongue, not having the
skill to spell the same word two ways. I can but follow the model given
me by the Bible and those works of the great poets I have named, and
let those who know the speech of the West figure it for themselves. It
takes a greater skill than I possess to set it down here.
"Mother," I said, "we have come to ask thee to read us that chapter.
How will the day turn? Which Duke will be England's King? We know
that thou canst read the future in the stars, and the cards, and the
crystal. Prithee tell us what will betide, and whether the friends or
the foes of liberty and religion will triumph."
It was a bold question; but I had not come empty-handed, and I slipped
the golden guinea Lord Lonsdale had given me into the witch's palm.
She looked at it with glistening eyes. Money was dear to the heart of
the old woman, and I did not doubt for a moment that I should get my
guinea's worth out of her; for I verily believed that she read the
future as I read the page of an open book.
She bent over the pot, crooning to herself, and seeming to take no heed
of us; but I silenced Will's exclamation of impatience by a warning
sign, for I knew the old woman and her ways, and that nothing was to be
gained by trying to hurry her.
At last the great black cat beside the fire jumped upon her shoulder
and seemed to whisper in her ear. I confess that a tremor ran through
me, for I verily believed that her familiar was speaking to her, and
that we were in the presence of some satanic agency.
A minute or two later she threw her arms above her head, and began
to speak in detached sentences, filling up the pauses by a strange
crooning chant, wordless and unintelligible.
"Blood will be shed--much blood ... but the glory will come first....
A King will rise and a King will fall.... And blood shall run freely,
ay, even as from a slaughter-house. Heads shall be lifted up.... Oh,
they shall be raised on high for all the world to see!... A brave show,
truly! A brave young King.... And he who now sits upon the throne shall
die in exile and disgrace."
That was enough for us. We had heard just the answer we wanted, and the
old woman lapsed into a silence which no questions served to break, so
we bade her good-even, and went forth again into the night.
"The King will die in exile! Dicon, if she be a true witch, we are to
see good days yet," cried Will, dancing in the moonlight like a wild
thing. "Blood and glory, and the rise and fall of Kings! Ah, heaven be
praised that I live in such goodly days! Dicon, Dicon, let us raise a
shout for King Monmouth. Hurrah for the good cause and the King! God
save him and us all!"