LETTER VI
DARSIE LATIMER TO ALAN FAIRFORD
(In continuation of Letters III and IV.)
I told thee I walked out into the open air with my grave and sternlandlord. I could now see more perfectly than on the preceding night thesecluded glen in which stood the two or three cottages which appeared tobe the abode of him and his family.
It was so narrow, in proportion to its depth, that no ray of the morningsun was likely to reach it till it should rise high in the horizon.Looking up the dell, you saw a brawling brook issuing in foamy hastefrom a covert of underwood, like a race-horse impatient to arrive at thegoal; and, if you gazed yet; more earnestly, you might observe part ofa high waterfall glimmering through the foliage, and giving occasion,doubtless, to the precipitate speed of the brook. Lower down, thestream became more placid, and opened into a quiet piece of water whichafforded a rude haven to two or three fishermen's boats, then lying highand dry on the sand, the tide being out. Two or three miserable hutscould be seen beside this little haven, inhabited probably by the ownersof the boats, but inferior in every respect to the establishment of minehost, though that was miserable enough.
I had but a minute or two to make these observations, yet during thatspace my companion showed symptoms of impatience, and more than onceshouted, 'Cristal--Cristal Nixon,' until the old man of the precedingevening appeared at the door of one of the neighbouring cottages orouthouses, leading the strong black horse which I before commemorated,ready bridled and saddled. My conductor made Cristal a sign with hisfinger, and, turning from the cottage door, led the way up the steeppath or ravine which connected the sequestered dell with the opencountry.
Had I been perfectly aware of the character of the road down which Ihad been hurried with so much impetuosity on the preceding evening, Igreatly question if I should have ventured the descent; for it deservedno better name than the channel of a torrent, now in a good measurefilled with water, that dashed in foam and fury into the dell, beingswelled with the rains of the preceding night. I ascended this ugly pathwith some difficulty although on foot, and felt dizzy when I observed,from such traces as the rains had not obliterated, that the horse seemedalmost to have slid down it upon his haunches the evening before.
My host threw himself on his horse's back, without placing a foot in thestirrup--passed me in the perilous ascent, against which he pressed hissteed as if the animal had had the footing of a wild cat. The water andmud splashed from his heels in his reckless course, and a few boundsplaced him on the top of the bank, where I presently joined him, andfound the horse and rider standing still as a statue; the formerpanting and expanding his broad nostrils to the morning wind, the lattermotionless, with his eye fixed on the first beams of the rising sun,which already began to peer above the eastern horizon and gild thedistant mountains of Cumberland and Liddesdale.
He seemed in a reverie, from which he started at my approach, and,putting his horse in motion, led the way at a leisurely pace through abroken and sandy road, which traversed a waste, level, and uncultivatedtract of downs, intermixed with morass, much like that in theneighbourhood of my quarters at Shepherd's Bush. Indeed, the whole openground of this district, where it approaches the sea, has, except in afew favoured spots, the same uniform and dreary character.
Advancing about a hundred yards from the brink of the glen, we gaineda still more extensive command of this desolate prospect, which seemedeven more dreary, as contrasted with the opposite shores of Cumberland,crossed and intersected by ten thousand lines of trees growing inhedgerows, shaded with groves and woods of considerable extent, animatedby hamlets and villas, from which thin clouds of smoke already gave signof human life and human industry.
My conductor had extended his arm, and was pointing the road toShepherd's Bush, when the step of a horse was heard approaching us. Helooked sharply round, and having observed who was approaching, proceededin his instructions to me, planting himself at the same time in the verymiddle of the path, which, at the place where we halted, had a slough onthe one side and a sandbank on the other.
I observed that the rider who approached us slackened his horse's pacefrom a slow trot to a walk, as if desirous to suffer us to proceed, orat least to avoid passing us at a spot where the difficulty of doing somust have brought us very close to each other. You know my old failing,Alan, and that I am always willing to attend to anything in preferenceto the individual who has for the time possession of the conversation.
Agreeably to this amiable propensity, I was internally speculatingconcerning the cause of the rider keeping aloof from us, when mycompanion, elevating his deep voice so suddenly and so sternly as atonce to recall my wandering thoughts, exclaimed, 'In the name of thedevil, young man, do you think that others have no better use for theirtime than you have, that you oblige me to repeat the same thing to youthree times over? Do you see, I say, yonder thing at a mile's distance,that looks like a finger-post, or rather like a gallows? I would ithad a dreaming fool hanging upon it, as an example to all meditativemoon-calves!--Yon gibbet-looking pole will guide you to the bridge,where you must pass the large brook; then proceed straight forwards,till several roads divide at a cairn. Plague on thee, thou art wanderingagain!
It is indeed quite true that at this moment the horseman approached us,and my attention was again called to him as I made way to let him pass.His whole exterior at once showed that he belonged to the Society ofFriends, or, as the world and the world's law calls them, Quakers.A strong and useful iron-grey galloway showed, by its sleek andgood condition, that the merciful man was merciful to his beast. Hisaccoutrements were in the usual unostentatious but clean and servicableorder which characterizes these sectaries. His long surtout of dark-greysuperfine cloth descended down to the middle of his leg, and wasbuttoned up to his chin, to defend him against the morning air. Asusual, his ample beaver hung down without button or loop, and shaded acomely and placid countenance, the gravity of which appeared to containsome seasoning of humour, and had nothing in common with the pinchedpuritanical air affected by devotees in general. The brow was open andfree from wrinkles, whether of age or hypocrisy. The eye was clear,calm, and considerate, yet appeared to be disturbed by apprehension,not to say fear, as, pronouncing the usual salutation of, 'I wish thee agood morrow, friend,' he indicated, by turning his palfrey close toone side of the path, a wish to glide past us with as little trouble aspossible--just as a traveller would choose to pass a mastiff of whosepeaceable intentions he is by no means confident.
But my friend, not meaning, perhaps, that he should get off so easily,put his horse quite across the path, so that, without plunging into theslough, or scrambling up the bank, the Quaker could not have passedhim. Neither of these was an experiment without hazard greater than thepassenger seemed willing to incur. He halted, therefore, as if waitingtill my companion should make way for him; and, as they sat frontingeach other, I could not help thinking that they might have formed no bademblem of Peace and War; for although my conductor was unarmed, yet thewhole of his manner, his stern look, and his upright seat on horseback,were entirely those of a soldier in undress, He accosted the Quakerin these words, 'So ho! friend Joshua, thou art early to the road thismorning. Has the spirit moved thee and thy righteous brethren to actwith some honesty, and pull down yonder tide-nets that keep the fishfrom coming up the river?'
'Surely, friend, not so,' answered Joshua, firmly, but good-humouredlyat the same time; 'thou canst not expect that our own hands should pulldown what our purses established. Thou killest the fish with spear,line, and coble-net; and we, with snares and with nets, which work bythe ebb and the flow of the tide. Each doth what seems best in his eyesto secure a share of the blessing which Providence hath bestowed on theriver, and that within his own bounds. I prithee seek no quarrel againstus, for thou shalt have no wrong at our hand.'
'Be assured I will take none at the hand of any man, whether his hat becocked or broad-brimmed,' answered the fisherman. 'I tell you in fairterms, Joshua Geddes, that you
and your partners are using unlawfulcraft to destroy the fish in the Solway by stake-nets and wears; andthat we, who fish fairly, and like men, as our fathers did, have dailyand yearly less sport and less profit. Do not think gravity or hypocrisycan carry it off as you have done. The world knows you, and we know you.You will destroy the salmon which makes the livelihood of fifty poorfamilies, and then wipe your mouth, and go to make a speech at meeting.But do not hope it will last thus. I give you fair warning, we will beupon you one morning soon, when we will not leave a stake standing inthe pools of the Solway; and down the tide they shall every one go, andwell if we do not send a lessee along with them.'
'Friend,' replied Joshua, with a constrained smile, 'but that I knowthou dost not mean as thou sayst, I would tell thee we are under theprotection of this country's laws; nor do we the less trust to obtaintheir protection, that our principles permit us not, by any act ofviolent resistance, to protect ourselves.'
'All villainous cant and cowardice,' exclaimed the fisherman, 'andassumed merely as a cloak to your hypocritical avarice.'
'Nay, say not cowardice, my friend,' answered the Quaker, 'since thouknowest there may be as much courage in enduring as in acting; and Iwill be judged by this youth, or by any one else, whether there is notmore cowardice--even in the opinion of that world whose thoughts are thebreath in thy nostrils--in the armed oppressor who doth injury, than inthe defenceless and patient sufferer who endureth it with constancy.'
'I will change no more words with you on the subject,' said thefisherman, who, as if something moved at the last argument which Mr.Geddes had used, now made room for him to pass forward on his journey.'Do not forget, however,' he added, 'that you have had fair warning,nor suppose that we will accept of fair words in apology for foul play.These nets of yours are unlawful--they spoil our fishings--we willhave them down at all risks and hazards. I am a man of my word, friendJoshua.'
'I trust thou art,' said the Quaker; 'but thou art the rather bound tobe cautious in rashly affirming what thou wilt never execute. For I tellthee, friend, that though there is as great a difference between theeand one of our people as there is between a lion and a sheep, yet I knowand believe thou hast so much of the lion in thee, that thou wouldstscarce employ thy strength and thy rage upon that which professeth nomeans of resistance. Report says so much good of thee, at least, if itsays little more.'
'Time will try,' answered the fisherman; 'and hark thee, Joshua, beforewe part I will put thee in the way of doing one good deed, which, creditme, is better than twenty moral speeches. Here is a stranger youth, whomHeaven has so scantily gifted with brains, that he will bewilder himselfin the Sands, as he did last night, unless thou wilt kindly show him theway to Shepherd's Bush; for I have been in vain endeavouring to makehim comprehend the road thither. Hast thou so much charity under thysimplicity, Quaker, as to do this good turn?'
'Nay, it is thou, friend,' answered Joshua, 'that dost lack charity, tosuppose any one unwilling to do so simple a kindness.'
'Thou art right--I should have remembered it can cost thee nothing.Young gentlemen, this pious pattern of primitive simplicity will teachthee the right way to the Shepherd's Bush--aye, and will himself shearthee like a sheep, if you come to buying and selling with him.'
He then abruptly asked me, how long I intended to remain at Shepherd'sBush.
I replied, I was at present uncertain--as long probably, as I couldamuse myself in the neighbourhood.
'You are fond of sport?' he added, in the same tone of brief inquiry.
I answered in the affirmative, but added, I was totally inexperienced.
'Perhaps if you reside here for some days,' he said, 'we may meet again,and I may have the chance of giving you a lesson.'
Ere I could express either thanks or assent, he turned short round witha wave of his hand by way of adieu, and rode back to the verge of thedell from which we had emerged together; and as he remained standingupon the banks, I could long hear his voice while he shouted down tothose within its recesses.
Meanwhile the Quaker and I proceeded on our journey for some time insilence; he restraining his sober-minded steed to a pace which mighthave suited a much less active walker than myself, and looking onme from time to time with an expression of curiosity, mingled withbenignity. For my part, I cared not to speak first. It happened I hadnever before been in company with one of this particular sect, and,afraid that in addressing him I might unwittingly infringe upon someof their prejudices or peculiarities, I patiently remained silent. Atlength he asked me, whether I had been long in the service of the laird,as men called him.
I repeated the words 'in his service?' with such an accent of surprise,as induced him to say, 'Nay, but, friend, I mean no offence; perhaps Ishould have said in his society--an inmate, I mean, in his house?'
'I am totally unknown to the person from whom we have just parted,' saidI, 'and our connexion is only temporary. He had the charity to give mehis guidance from the Sands, and a night's harbourage from the tempest.So our acquaintance began, and there it is likely to end; for you mayobserve that our friend is by no means apt to encourage familiarity.'
'So little so,' answered my companion, 'that thy case is, I think, thefirst in which I ever heard of his receiving any one into his house;that is, if thou hast really spent the night there.'
'Why should you doubt it?' replied I; 'there is no motive I can have todeceive you, nor is the object worth it.'
'Be not angry with me,' said the Quaker; 'but thou knowest that thineown people do not, as we humbly endeavour to do, confine themselveswithin the simplicity of truth, but employ the language of falsehood,not only for profit, but for compliment, and sometimes for merediversion. I have heard various stories of my neighbour; of most ofwhich I only believe a small part, and even then they are difficult toreconcile with each other. But this being the first time I ever beardof his receiving a stranger within his dwelling, made me express somedoubts. I pray thee let them not offend thee.'
'He does not,' said I, 'appear to possess in much abundance the meansof exercising hospitality, and so may be excused from offering it inordinary cases.'
'That is to say, friend,' replied Joshua, 'thou hast supped ill, andperhaps breakfasted worse. Now my small tenement, called Mount Sharon,is nearer to us by two miles than thine inn; and although goingthither may prolong thy walk, as taking thee of the straighter road toShepherd's Bush, yet methinks exercise will suit thy youthful limbs,as well as a good plain meal thy youthful appetite. What sayst thou, myyoung acquaintance?'
'If it puts you not to inconvenience,' I replied; for the invitation wascordially given, and my bread and milk had been hastily swallowed, andin small quantity.
'Nay,' said Joshua, 'use not the language of compliment with those whorenounce it. Had this poor courtesy been very inconvenient, perhaps Ihad not offered it.'
'I accept the invitation, then,' said I, 'in the same good spirit inwhich you give it.'
The Quaker smiled, reached me his hand, I shook it, and we travelled onin great cordiality with each other. The fact is, I was much entertainedby contrasting in my own mind, the open manner of the kind-heartedJoshua Geddes, with the abrupt, dark, and lofty demeanour of myentertainer on the preceding evening. Both were blunt and unceremonious;but the plainness of the Quaker had the character of devotionalsimplicity, and was mingled with the more real kindness, as if honestJoshua was desirous of atoning, by his sincerity, for the lack ofexternal courtesy. On the contrary, the manners of the fisherman werethose of one to whom the rules of good behaviour might be familiar, butwho, either from pride or misanthropy, scorned to observe them. StillI thought of him with interest and curiosity, notwithstanding so muchabout him that was repulsive; and I promised myself, in the course of myconversation with the Quaker, to learn all that he knew on the subject.He turned the conversation, however, into a different channel, andinquired into my own condition of life, and views in visiting thisremote frontier.
I only thought it necessary to mention my name
, and add, that I had beeneducated to the law, but finding myself possessed of some independence,I had of late permitted myself some relaxation, and was residing atShepherd's Bush to enjoy the pleasure of angling.
'I do thee no harm, young man,' said my new friend, 'in wishing thee abetter employment for thy grave hours, and a more humane amusement (ifamusement thou must have) for those of a lighter character.'
'You are severe, sir,' I replied. 'I heard you but a moment since referyourself to the protection of the laws of the country--if there be laws,there must be lawyers to explain, and judges to administer them.'
Joshua smiled, and pointed to the sheep which were grazing on the downsover which we were travelling. 'Were a wolf,' he said, 'to come even nowupon yonder flocks, they would crowd for protection, doubtless, aroundthe shepherd and his dogs; yet they are bitten and harassed daily bythe one, shorn, and finally killed and eaten by the other. But I say notthis to shock you; for, though laws and lawyers are evils, yet they arenecessary evils in this probationary state of society, till man shalllearn to render unto his fellows that which is their due, accordingto the light of his own conscience, and through no other compulsion.Meanwhile, I have known many righteous men who have followed thyintended profession in honesty and uprightness of walk. The greatertheir merit, who walk erect in a path which so many find slippery.
'And angling,' said I:--'you object to that also as an amusement,you who, if I understood rightly what passed between you and my latelandlord, are yourself a proprietor of fisheries.'
'Not a proprietor,' he replied, 'I am only, in copartnery with others,a tacksman or lessee of some valuable salmon-fisheries a little down thecoast. But mistake me not. The evil of angling, with which I class allsports, as they are called, which have the sufferings of animals fortheir end and object, does not consist in the mere catching and killingthose animals with which the bounty of Providence hath stocked the earthfor the good of man, but in making their protracted agony a principle ofdelight and enjoyment. I do indeed cause these fisheries to be conductedfor the necessary taking, killing, and selling the fish; and, in thesame way, were I a farmer, I should send my lambs to market. But Ishould as soon think of contriving myself a sport and amusement out ofthe trade of the butcher as out of that of the fisher.'
We argued the point no further; for though I thought his arguments alittle too high-strained, yet as my mind acquitted me of having takendelight in aught but the theory of field-sports, I did not think myselfcalled upon stubbornly to advocate a practice which had afforded me solittle pleasure.
We had by this time arrived at the remains of an old finger-post, whichmy host had formerly pointed out as a landmark. Here, a ruinous woodenbridge, supported by long posts resembling crutches, served me to getacross the water, while my new friend sought a ford a good way higherup, for the stream was considerably swelled.
As I paused for his rejoining me, I observed an angler at a littledistance pouching trout after trout, as fast almost as he could cast hisline; and I own, in spite of Joshua's lecture on humanity, I could notbut envy his adroitness and success, so natural is the love of sportto our minds, or so easily are we taught to assimilate success infield-sports with ideas of pleasure, and with the praise due to addressand agility. I soon recognized in the successful angler little Benjie,who had been my guide and tutor in that gentle art, as you have learnedfrom my former letters. I called--I whistled--the rascal recognized me,and, starting like a guilty thing, seemed hesitating whether to approachor to run away; and when he determined on the former, it was to assailme with a loud, clamorous, and exaggerated report of the anxiety of allat the Shepherd's Bush for my personal safety; how my landlady had wept,how Sam and the ostler had not the heart to go to bed, but sat up allnight drinking--and how he himself had been up long before daybreak togo in quest of me.
'And you were switching the water, I suppose,' said I, 'to discover mydead body?'
This observation produced a long 'Na--a--a' of acknowledged detection;but, with his natural impudence, and confidence in my good nature, heimmediately added, 'that he thought I would like a fresh trout or twafor breakfast, and the water being in such a rare trim for the saumonraun, [The bait made of salmon-roe salted and preserved. In a swollenriver, and about the month of October, it is a most deadly bait.] hecouldna help taking a cast.'
While we were engaged in this discussion, the honest Quaker returned tothe farther end of the wooden bridge to tell me he could not venture tocross the brook in its present state: but would be under the necessityto ride round by the stone bridge, which was a mile and a half higherup than his own house. He was about to give me directions how to proceedwithout him, and inquire for his sister, when I suggested to him that,if he pleased to trust his horse to little Benjie, the boy might carryhim round by the bridge, while we walked the shorter and more pleasantroad.
Joshua shook his head, for he was well acquainted with Benjie, who,he said, was the naughtiest varlet in the whole neighbourhood.Nevertheless, rather than part company, he agreed to put the pony underhis charge for a short season, with many injunctions that he should notattempt to mount, but lead the pony (even Solomon) by the bridle, underthe assurances of sixpence in case of proper demeanour, and penalty thatif he transgressed the orders given him, 'verily he would be scourged.'
Promises cost Benjie nothing, and he showered them out wholesale;till the Quaker at length yielded up the bridle to him, repeating hischarges, and enforcing them by holding up his forefinger. On my part, Icalled to Benjie to leave the fish he had taken at Mount Sharon, making,at the same time, an apologetic countenance to my new friend, notbeing quite aware whether the compliment would be agreeable to such acondemner of field-sports.
He understood me at once, and reminded me of the practical distinctionbetwixt catching the animals as an object of cruel and wanton sport, andeating them as lawful and gratifying articles of food, after they werekilled. On the latter point he had no scruples; but, on the contrary,assured me that this brook contained the real red trout, so highlyesteemed by all connoisseurs, and that, when eaten within an hourof their being caught, they had a peculiar firmness of substance anddelicacy of flavour, which rendered them an agreeable addition to amorning meal, especially when earned, like ours, by early rising, and anhour or two's wholesome exercise.
But to thy alarm be it spoken, Alan, we did not come so far as thefrying of our fish without further adventure. So it is only to spare thypatience, and mine own eyes, that I pull up for the present, and sendthee the rest of my story in a subsequent letter.