TAKEN FROM THE Q---- REGISTER OF LOCAL EVENTS, AS COMPILED FROM AUTHENTIC
NARRATIVES
I
Now I am to tell you of a thing that befell in the year 1665 of the Great
Plague, when the hearts of certain amongst men, grown callous in
wickedness upon that rebound from an inhuman austerity, were opened to
the vision of a terror that moved and spoke not in the silent places of
the fields. Forasmuch as, however, in the recovery from delirium a
patient may marvel over the incredulity of neighbours who refuse to give
credence to the presentments that have been _ipso facto_ to him, so, the
nation being sound again, and its constitution hale, I expect little but
a laugh for my piety in relating of the following incident; which,
nevertheless, is as essential true as that he who shall look through the
knot-hole in the plank of a coffin shall acquire the evil eye.
For, indeed, in those days of a wild fear and confusion, when every
condition that maketh for reason was set wandering by a devious path, and
all men sitting as in a theatre of death looked to see the curtain rise
upon God knows what horrors, it was vouchsafed to many to witness sights
and sounds beyond the compass of Nature, and that as if the devil and his
minions had profited by the anarchy to slip unobserved into the world.
And I know that this is so, for all the insolence of a recovered
scepticism; and, as to the unseen, we are like one that traverseth the
dark with a lanthorn, himself the skipper of a little moving blot of
light, but a positive mark for any secret foe without the circumference
of its radiance.
Be that as it may, and whether it was our particular ill-fortune, or, as
some asserted, our particular wickedness, that made of our village an
inviting back-door of entrance to the Prince of Darkness, I know not; but
so it is that disease and contagion are ever inclined to penetrate by way
of flaws or humours where the veil of the flesh is already perforated,
as a kite circleth round its quarry, looking for the weak place to
strike: and, without doubt, in that land of corruption we were a very
foul blot indeed.
How this came about it were idle to speculate; yet no man shall have the
hardihood to affirm that it was otherwise. Nor do I seek to extenuate
myself, who was in truth no better than my neighbours in most that made
us a community of drunkards and forswearers both lewd and abominable.
For in that village a depravity that was like madness had come to possess
the heads of the people, and no man durst take his stand on honesty or
even common decency, for fear he should be set upon by his comrades and
drummed out of his government on a pint pot. Yet for myself I will say
was one only redeeming quality, and that was the pure love I bore to my
solitary orphaned child, the little Margery.
Now, our Vicar--a patient and God-fearing man, for all his predial tithes
were impropriated by his lord, that was an absentee and a sheriff in
London--did little to stem that current of lewdness that had set in
strong with the Restoration. And this was from no lack of virtue in
himself, but rather from a natural invertebracy, as one may say, and an
order of mind that, yet being no order, is made the sport of any
sophister with a wit for paragram. Thus it always is that mere example is
of little avail without precept,--of which, however, it is an important
condition,--and that the successful directors of men be not those who go
to the van and lead, unconscious of the gibes and mockery in their rear,
but such rather as drive the mob before them with a smiting hand and no
infirmity of purpose. So, if a certain affection for our pastor dwelt in
our hearts, no title of respect was there to leaven it and justify his
high office before Him that consigned the trust; and ever deeper and
deeper we sank in the slough of corruption, until was brought about this
pass--that naught but some scourging despotism of the Church should
acquit us of the fate of Sodom. That such, at the eleventh hour, was
vouchsafed us of God's mercy, it is my purpose to show; and, doubtless,
this offering of a loop-hole was to account by reason of the devil's
having debarked his reserves, as it were, in our port; and so quartering
upon us a soldiery that we were, at no invitation of our own, to
maintain, stood us a certain extenuation.
It was late in the order of things before in our village so much as a
rumour of the plague reached us. Newspapers were not in those days, and
reports, being by word of mouth, travelled slowly, and were often spent
bullets by the time they fell amongst us. Yet, by May, some gossip there
was of the distemper having gotten a hold in certain quarters of London
and increasing, and this alarmed our people, though it made no abatement
of their profligacy. But presently the reports coming thicker, with
confirmation of the terror and panic that was enlarging on all sides, we
must take measures for our safety; though into June and July, when the
pestilence was raging, none infected had come our way, and that from our
remote and isolated position. Yet it needs but fear for the crown to that
wickedness that is self-indulgence; and forasmuch as this fear fattens
like a toadstool on the decomposition it springs from, it grew with us to
the proportions that we were set to kill or destroy any that should
approach us from the stricken districts.
And then suddenly there appeared in our midst _he_ that was appointed to
be our scourge and our cautery.
Whence he came, or how, no man of us could say. Only one day we were a
community of roysterers and scoffers, impious and abominable, and the
next he was amongst us smiting and thundering.
Some would have it that he was an old collegiate of our Vicar's, but at
last one of those wandering Dissenters that found never as now the times
opportune to their teachings--a theory to which our minister's treatment
of the stranger gave colour. For from the moment of his appearance he
took the reins of government, as it were, appropriating the pulpit and
launching his bolts therefrom, with the full consent and encouragement of
the other. There were those, again, who were resolved that his commission
was from a high place, whither news of our infamy had reached, and that
we had best give him a respectful hearing, lest we should run a chance of
having our hearing stopped altogether. A few were convinced he was no man
at all, but rather a fiend sent to thresh us with the scourge of our own
contriving, that we might be tender, like steak, for the cooking; and yet
other few regarded him with terror, as an actual figure or embodiment of
the distemper.
But, generally, after the first surprise, the feeling of resentment at
his intrusion woke and gained ground, and we were much put about that he
should have thus assumed the pastorship without invitation, quartering
with our Vicar; who kept himself aloof and was little seen, and seeking
to drive us by terror, and amazement, and a great menace of retribution.
For, in truth, this was not the method to which we were wont, and it both
angered and disturbed us.
This feeling would have enlarged the sooner, perhaps, were it not for a
certain restraining influence possessed of the new-comer, which
neighboured him with darkness and mystery. For he was above the common
tall, and ever appeared in public with a slouched hat, that concealed all
the upper part of his face and showed little otherwise but the dense
black beard that dropped upon his breast like a shadow.
Now with August came a fresh burst of panic, how the desolation increased
and the land was overrun with swarms of infected persons seeking an
asylum from the city; and our anger rose high against the stranger, who
yet dwelt with us and encouraged the distemper of our minds by furious
denunciations of our guilt.
Thus far, for all the corruption of our hearts, we had maintained the
practice of church-going, thinking, maybe, poor fools! to hoodwink the
Almighty with a show of reverence; but now, as by a common consent, we
neglected the observances and loitered of a Sabbath in the fields, and
thither at the last the strange man pursued us and ended the matter.
For so it fell that at the time of the harvest's ripening a goodish body
of us males was gathered one Sunday for coolness about the neighbourhood
of the dripping well, whose waters were a tradition, for they had long
gone dry. This well was situate in a sort of cave or deep scoop at the
foot of a cliff of limestone, to which the cultivated ground that led up
to it fell somewhat. High above, the cliff broke away into a wide stretch
of pasture land, but the face of the rock itself was all patched with
bramble and little starved birch-trees clutching for foothold; and in
like manner the excavation beneath was half-stifled and gloomed over with
undergrowth, so that it looked a place very dismal and uninviting, save
in the ardour of the dog-days.
Within, where had been the basin, was a great shattered hole going down
to unknown depths; and this no man had thought to explore, for a mystery
held about the spot that was doubtless the foster-child of ignorance.
But to the front of the well and of the cliff stretched a noble field of
corn, and this field was of an uncommon shape, being, roughly, a vast
circle and a little one joined by a neck and in suggestion not unlike an
hour-glass; and into the crop thereof, which was of goodly weight and
condition, were the first sickles to be put on the morrow.
Now as we stood or lay around, idly discussing of the news, and
congratulating ourselves that we were featly quit of our incubus, to us
along the meadow path, his shadow jumping on the corn, came the very
subject of our gossip.
He strode up, looking neither to right nor left, and with the first word
that fell, low and damnatory, from his lips, we knew that the moment had
come when, whether for good or evil, he intended to cast us from him and
acquit himself of further responsibility in our direction.
"Behold!" he cried, pausing over against us, "I go from among ye! Behold,
ye that have not obeyed nor inclined your ear, but have walked every one
in the imagination of his evil heart! Saith the Lord, 'I will bring evil
upon them, which they shall not be able to escape; and though they shall
cry unto Me, I will not hearken unto them.'"
His voice rang out, and a dark silence fell among us. It was pregnant,
but with little of humility. We had had enough of this interloper and his
abuse. Then, like Jeremiah, he went to prophesy:--
"I read ye, men of Anathoth, and the murder in your hearts. Ye that have
worshipped the shameful thing and burned incense to Baal--shall I cringe
that ye devise against me, or not rather pray to the Lord of Hosts, 'Let
me see Thy vengeance on them'? And He answereth, 'I will bring evil upon
the men of Anathoth, even the year of their visitation.'"
Now, though I was no participator in that direful thing that followed, I
stood by, nor interfered, and so must share the blame. For there were men
risen all about, and their faces lowering, and it seemed that it would go
hard with the stranger were he not more particular.
But he moved forward, with a stately and commanding gesture, and stood
with his back to the well-scoop and threatened us and spoke.
"Lo!" he shrieked, "your hour is upon you! Ye shall be mowed down like
ripe corn, and the shadow of your name shall be swept from the earth! The
glass of your iniquity is turned, and when its sand is run through, not a
man of ye shall be!"
He raised his arm aloft, and in a moment he was overborne. Even then, as
all say, none got sight of his face; but he fought with lowered head, and
his black beard flapped like a wounded crow. But suddenly a boy-child ran
forward of the bystanders, crying and screaming,--
"Hurt him not! They are hurting him--oh, me! oh, me!"
And from the sweat and struggle came his voice, gasping, "I spare the
little children!"
Then only I know of the surge and the crash towards the well-mouth, of an
instant cessation of motion, and immediately of men toiling hither and
thither with boulders and huge blocks, which they piled over the rent,
and so sealed it with a cromlech of stone.