Roger Willoughby: A Story of the Times of Benbow

  CHAPTER TEN.

  The gale had been blowing for some days on the Dorsetshire coast. Theseafaring men along the shore pronounced it the hardest they had knownat that season for many a year, harder than one which had blown a fewdays previously for a short time. A vessel, from stress of weather, hadput into Lyme, and reported that she had passed two small craft,tempest-tossed and sorely battered, but they refused assistance, sayingthat they intended to keep the sea, as they were bound to the eastward.This information being given to the authorities at Lyme, notice wasissued to the men stationed along the coast, placed there to prevent theescape of rebels, and they were directed to watch for the two vessels,which it was conjectured had on board fugitives from Sedgemoor, orothers who had taken part with Monmouth.

  Colonel Tregellen had been deeply stirred with indignation at thecruelties practised by the Earl of Feversham and Colonel Kirk on thehapless Monmouth's defeated army, and he felt far more interest in themthan would otherwise have been the case.

  "Had they been criminals of the darkest dye, they could not have beenmore severely dealt with. Instead of that, they were honest men,fighting bravely for what they believed a righteous cause," he observed,as he read the accounts of what had taken place.

  It is scarcely necessary to say how Alice Tufnell felt. Though she hadwarned and entreated Stephen Battiscombe not to take up arms, she knewthat he was prompted by the highest and purest of motives. Her heartsank as she thought of the uncertainty that hung over his fate. No newshad been received of him and his brother since the day of the battle,and their friends could not conjecture whether they had fallen atSedgemoor, been killed in the pursuit, or were still in hiding.

  The first intimation that his sons were still alive was received fromFarmer Stubbs, who had brought Stephen's letter, saying that he andAndrew were in the hands of Cornet Bryce, and that they were to becarried to Bridgewater or Taunton. Mr Battiscombe immediately sent offto Colonel Tregellen to ask his advice. Farmer Stubbs was veryunwilling to put himself into the power of Colonel Kirk and his lambs,and declined going with the sum of money necessary to bribe those inauthority. Mr Battiscombe had the money ready, which he hoped would besufficient. He first thought of Mr Handscombe, but on applying to MrWilloughby, who had last heard from him, he found that he had leftLondon, no one knew whither. Colonel Tregellen himself would have beena fit person in some respects, for his loyalty would never have beendoubted, but his health prevented him from going far from home. He wasnot suited by his temper and disposition to deal with characters such asColonel Kirk and those associated with him. Poor Mr Battiscombe, indespair, applied to Mr Willoughby. He had taken no part in therebellion, and his son, with his sanction, had entered the Royal Navy,and was serving under Captain Benbow. Feeling deeply for his friend,though the undertaking was very contrary to his habits, he agreed to setout without loss of time, and endeavour to carry on the negotiation. Hehad very little to plead for Stephen and Andrew, except that they wereyoung men carried away with the flattery bestowed on them by the Duke,but their father would undertake for their good behaviour in future, andwould send them out of the country. Farmer Stubbs, saying that he had arelative not far off, with whom he intended to stay till the storm hadblown over, disappeared the next evening, and Mr Willoughby set out onhis mission of mercy, which, as the reader knows, was to prove abootless one.

  The storm had been blowing for some days, when Colonel Tregellen,accompanied by Alice on her pony, started on a ride to the village,where he had some tenants to visit, intending to return along thecliffs, where he hoped that the fresh wind off the sea would raiseAlice's depressed spirits. On reaching the Downs the wind was so strongthat they could with difficulty make headway against it, still thelittle pony seemed to enjoy the breeze even more than its mistress.When the Colonel pressed forward, his horse cantered gaily along. Aliceat length, just as they reached the higher part, where an extensive viewcould be obtained over the ocean, begged to stop to regain her breath.The Colonel was looking westward, when he observed two sails in thedistance.

  "Look out there, Alice," he said, "your eyes are sharper than mine.Tell me what those are."

  "Two small vessels or boats," she answered. "They have a very smallamount of canvas, and are running to the shore, while they appear to beterribly tossed about. It is surprising that they can remain afloat insuch a sea."

  "They must be in a desperate strait, or they would not stand in for thiscoast," remarked the Colonel. "Unless they can manage to reach Lymethey will to a certainty be lost."

  "They are not steering for Lyme," said Alice, "but are coming ondirectly for our bay."

  "Can they be the craft reported to have been fallen in with by the Lymevessel?" observed the Colonel.

  "I pray that they may not be, as those too likely contained fugitivesfrom Monmouth's army," said Alice.

  "There must be some one on board who knows this bay, or they would notbe steering for it," said the Colonel. "As the vessels are small, thecrews may hope to run them up on the beach and escape through the surf."

  In spite of the wind the Colonel and his adopted daughter were unwillingto leave the Downs till they knew the fate of the boats. The pathwaydown to the beach was too steep for the horses to descend, or in theireagerness they would have gone down. The Colonel rode as close as hecould to the edge of the cliff, to see if he could observe old BenRullock, or some other fisherman, in order to desire them to makepreparations for rescuing the storm-tossed crews, whosoever they mightbe. While he was watching he observed several persons coming along thecliff.

  "The fellows are on the look-out for those boats," he said to himself."I wish they had not discovered them, for if the people on board arefugitives, should they escape the waves, they will fall into theirscarcely less remorseless clutches." He watched the men as theydescended the cliffs, but could not see what had become of them. "Iverily believe they have hidden themselves, that they may pounce out ontheir prey, and give them less chance of escaping."

  The guards, who were all armed, seemed to have made signals to others,who came hurrying up till nearly a dozen were collected about the samespot. A reef of rocks ran off on the west side of the bay, which,circling round, formed a sort of breakwater, which, in moderate weather,enabled Ben Rullock and other fishermen to leave their boats at anchorin security, though at present they were all hauled up. It requirednice steering to enter the bay so as to avoid the end of the reef; thetwo boats approached, their shattered appearance showing the urgentnecessity which had induced them to steer for the land. Some of thepeople in them were baling, others pumping, both pressing eagerly on,almost abreast, instead of following each other. At length they drewclose to the bay, when one, standing more to the westward than she oughtto have done, struck the end of a reef. The next sea scattered herfragments, and she literally melted away from sight, leaving those whohad been on board struggling helplessly in the waves. In vain those inthe other boat threw out ropes to rescue the drowning people; theysucceeded in dragging only one on board. As far as could be seen fromthe top of the cliff, the remainder perished miserably. Alice uttered ashriek of horror as she saw the catastrophe; no help could apparently beafforded from the shore; the other boat rushed forward up the bay, anddisappeared beneath the cliff.

  "The poor fellows have escaped a watery grave, but only to findthemselves prisoners in the hands of their enemies," cried the Colonel.

  Shouts and cries heard above the roaring of the seas came up from belowthe cliffs; then all was still. After the lapse of a few minutes anumber of men appeared coming up the cliff which led down to BenRullock's cottage; they were the soldiers guarding six prisoners. TheColonel, followed by Alice, rode forward to inquire where the prisonerswere to be conveyed, with a charitable wish to do what he could toalleviate their sufferings. Poor Alice could scarcely restrain the crywhich rose from her breast as she saw the first of the prisoners, whowas Stephen Battiscombe, followed by his brother Andrew; but she knewthe Colonel's gene
rous intentions. The state of the prisoners wassufficient, it might have been thought, to excite the compassion oftheir captors; they looked utterly broken-down and emaciated, as if theyhad long been in want of food, while the bitter disappointment they musthave felt at finding themselves immediately on landing in the hands oftheir foes completely overcame them. Stephen lifting his eyesrecognised Alice; he bowed his head, and then cast his eyes again to theground, as if he felt he had so completely disobeyed her wish that shecould have no further interest in him.

  "Where are you going to take these persons, my friends?" asked theColonel of the soldiers. "Judging from their appearance they are scarceable to walk, much less to march any distance, and the sun is nearlysetting. Whoever they may be, or whatever they have done, they are ourfellow-creatures, and in sore distress. They certainly were not flyingfrom the country, for you all saw that they steered for the shore, andevidently intended to land instead of attempting to go farther. I shallbe glad if you will bring them on to Eversden Manor,--it is not far fromthis,--and I will give you and them quarters and provisions, which theyat all events, judging from their looks, sorely want."

  The sergeant who had taken charge of the party, after making someremarks to two or three of his comrades, who seemed to like the idea ofgetting into comfortable quarters, instead of having to march to Lyme orBridport, replied that he would accept the Colonel's offer.

  "Come then, friends," said the Colonel; "I will ride on ahead while youfollow with your prisoners; but do not hurry them, for they are but illable to move at a fast pace." Saying this he rode slowly on, with Aliceby his side.

  "I thought it wise not to show too much interest in the youngBattiscombes, lest it might be supposed that I was inclined to favourthem," said the Colonel; "but the poor fellows seem perfectlybroken-down for want of food. I fear that if I were to leave them theywould be ill-treated or urged on too fast, but I think, were you to rideforward to the house and obtain some refreshment, it might shorten theirsufferings. Platt can bring as much more food as he is able to carry."

  The idea was no sooner suggested to Alice, than answering, "That I will,thankfully," she started off at a fast pace across the Downs.

  "What has happened?" exclaimed Madam Pauline, who had seen her coming upthe avenue at a gallop, her hair, which had escaped beneath her hat,streaming in the wind. Alice explained in a few words, and MadamPauline, saying to herself, "It is sad, very sad; I am sorry, so sorry,"set about heartily putting up such food as was ready, together with abottle of her cordial waters, while Alice directed Platt to prepare toaccompany her. No sooner, however, was a basket packed, than, taking iton her arm, she hurried back to meet the Colonel and the prisoners. Shefound them just as they had crossed the Downs near a tolerably shelteredspot. Here the Colonel requested the sergeant to halt, while she,immediately unpacking her basket, took round the contents to thefamishing prisoners. She endeavoured to exhibit no special favour toone more than the other, though this was difficult. As she came up toStephen a second time, she whispered, "Be on the watch; tell yourbrother." She then passed on hurriedly. After some time Tobias Plattarrived with more provisions, a portion of which he distributed amongthe soldiers, thus putting them in good humour, and making them moreinclined than they might otherwise have been to treat their prisonerskindly. As it was getting late, the Colonel advised that they shouldproceed, and they continued their march to the manor-house. Alice againgalloped forward to assist Madam Pauline in getting ready for theirreception. She did not hesitate to confide to her aunt her intention oftrying to enable Stephen and his brother to escape.

  "But you do not consider the risk, my dear Alice," said Madame Pauline."Should these young men escape, the Colonel would be implicated, mightsuffer all sorts of fines and penalties, that he can ill afford, thoughI know he would gladly spend any sum to buy them off, if that werepossible, and help poor Mr Battiscombe. However, we will see what canbe done. What a pity that Mr Willoughby should have gone off on hisuseless errand! We must let Mr Battiscombe know that his sons havebeen captured, in order that he may take such steps as he deemsnecessary."

  "I will go," said Alice; "my pony is perfectly fresh, and I shallquickly gallop to Langton Hall and back." Madam Pauline hesitated, butAlice soon over-persuaded her to let her go.

  On arriving at home the Colonel was somewhat inclined to find fault withMadam Pauline for allowing Alice to set off by herself, though heacknowledged it was important that Mr Battiscombe should be made awarethat his sons had been captured, that he might take such steps as hemight deem necessary to preserve their lives. He did not conceal fromhimself the fearful predicament in which they were placed: hundreds, heheard, had been slaughtered, and the vindictive King was not yetsatisfied. That King little thought that his cruelties were preparingthe way for his own dethronement.

  There were numerous rooms in the lower story of the manor-house, and theColonel proposed that one should be got ready for the youngBattiscombes, and another for the remainder of the prisoners, who wereof an inferior rank. There was no end of truckle-beds in the house,which he ordered to be got ready. He proposed allowing the soldiers tooccupy the hall, while the sergeant might place his guards as heconsidered necessary. The sergeant, on his arrival, was well pleasedwith the arrangements that had been made. Not being without humanfeeling, he was satisfied that the worn-out prisoners should enjoy thecomfort of beds and good food, while he was pleased with the ample fareprovided by Madam Pauline for himself and his comrades.

  The Colonel looked out anxiously for the return of Alice, for he wasafraid lest some accident should happen to her. There were wildcharacters abroad who pretended to be in search of rebels, and hadsucceeded in obtaining blood-money by capturing several. While TobiasPlatt took care that the soldiers should be well supplied with food andgood liquor, he did not forget the prisoners, especially the youngBattiscombes, to whom he carried more delicate food, suited to theirpresent condition.

  The Colonel was on the point of setting out for Langton Hall in order tomeet Alice should she have left it, when she arrived, having ridden hardthe whole distance. She had been detained in discussing plans with MrBattiscombe, as also while a package of clothes, of which she hadobserved they stood in need, was preparing. She had brought it securedto her saddle.

  "We need not let the soldiers see the package delivered," she observed;"Tobias Platt can carry it in as part of their bedding. The clotheswill enable them to present an appearance very different from what theydo now."

  Tobias, with whom Stephen was a favourite, took good care to carry inthe clothes as proposed, without being observed by the soldier on guard.The windows were barred with iron, intended rather to prevent ingressthan egress, but answering both purposes. The sergeant, on examiningthem, considered that his prisoners were perfectly secure in the rooms.Both he and his comrades were kept generously supplied with food andgood cider, together with somewhat potent beer; as they had been out allthe day in the hot sun, they were well inclined to keep up theircarouse.

  "It is tiring work, Master," said Tobias Platt, bringing a comfortablechair to where the sentry was pacing up and down. "You can watch aswell seated as walking, I suppose, and I will get you a pipe of tobacco,if you have a mind for it."

  "Ay, that I have, and I say, Master, a glass of something to keep thethroat moist won't come amiss."

  "You shall have it," said Tobias Platt, and he quickly returned with asmall table, a jug of ale, and a pipe with some tobacco.

  "Mind you don't go to sleep, though," said Tobias, as the sentry,seating himself in the chair and placing his musket by his side,stretched out his legs, when, taking a pull at the jug, he began to puffaway from the pipe which Tobias Platt had lighted for him. Tobias then,having placed a lantern with the dark side turned away from the sentry,quietly retired; he came back, however, before long, to find the beerjug empty, while the man was snoring loudly.

  "You will do," said Tobias, nodding as he passed. In a short time hecame ba
ck accompanied by a light figure in a dark cloak, and turning akey, and noiselessly drawing back some bolts, glided into the room.Both the prisoners were sleeping. She was loth to awake them, yet itmust be done. She turned the lantern on Stephen's face and uttered hisname. He started up in a moment. "Can you forgive me?" he whispered ina low voice. "And yet you come as an angel of light to console me in mysore trouble."

  "I come not to blame you, Stephen, but to comfort you if I can. I wouldinform you the means for your and your brother's escape have beenprovided; you have simply to walk out of this room while the sentry issleeping. Your father is aware that you have been made prisoner, and hehas arranged for your concealment, or will endeavour to have youconveyed northward where search is not likely to be made for you."

  "Thanks, dearest, thanks a thousandfold," said Stephen. "For your sakeI would use every exertion to escape, but I cannot desert my companions.I have already brought too many into trouble in endeavouring to getclear of my foes. I have induced several to join our unhappy cause whohave lost their lives. I cannot run the risk of bringing the Coloneland his family into trouble, which I should do were I to escape from hishouse."

  "Indeed, he is anxious to save you, I am sure of it, else he would nothave had you placed in this room," said Alice, "though he wisely wouldnot commit himself further. He knew that I brought you your clothing,and he would willingly run any risk for the sake of saving you from theclutches of Judge Jeffreys, who is expected every day at Dorchester tocommence the assize, and all who know him say that it will be a fearfulone."

  "I must endure whatever I am called on to suffer," answered Stephen."The Colonel and our father will be made responsible were Andrew and Ito escape. Were you to be suspected of assisting us, they would noteven spare you, Alice."

  "But were I betrothed to you I would urge that as my plea," said Alice,in a trembling voice. "I know what were your intentions, and if youwill even now ask me to marry you, I will consent, and I shall then havea right to plead that I acted according to the dictates of duty, orshould you not after all escape, I should be able to exert myself as Ibest can to obtain your pardon."

  A fearful struggle took place in Stephen's heart. He had long loved thegirl who pleaded with him, and that love prompted him to endeavour tosave her from dangers to which she might be exposed; but hope triumphed.Without further hesitation he pledged his troth to her; still he couldnot bring himself to desert his companions and to compromise the Coloneland his family, which he knew he should do were he and his brother tomake their escape from the house. Andrew had been sleeping soundly allthis time. He awoke him and told him of the arrangements that had beenmade to enable them once more to get free from the clutches of theirfoes. Two spare horses, Alice told them, would be in waiting outsidethe grounds at midnight, with a guide to conduct them northward. Theywould be many miles away before their flight would be discovered. Byremaining concealed during the following day they might, by riding allnight, get beyond the counties where the rebellion had existed. Andrew,according to his custom, considered the matter calmly over.

  "I agree with you, Stephen," he said; "we must not attempt it." And heused the same arguments which his brother had already done. "Let usremain and brave the consequences; we are deeply grateful to MrsTufnell."

  Both spoke so lightly that Alice, though she bitterly mourned theirdecision, was won over to agree that the course to be pursued was theright one. That they would have succeeded was doubtful, and before sheleft the room the sound of the sergeant's voice as he roused up his mento change the guard reached their ears, and she had barely time toescape from the room when the heavy tread of the soldiers' feet washeard coming along the passage. The guard at the door started up, notso completely overcome as might have been expected. The sergeant lookedinto the room, to find both his prisoners sleeping apparently in theirbeds; he then went to the other room, where he found all secure, but hissuspicions must have been aroused from some cause or other, for heplaced a double guard at the door, and retired highly satisfied with hisown vigilance. Poor Alice went back to her room to weep, agitated byvarious emotions. Though disappointed that Stephen had not escaped atonce, she felt that, now she was betrothed to him, she had a right toexert herself in his favour. She determined bravely to do so at allcosts. She wished that Roger had been at home, as he would be able toassist her in whatever she might undertake; but there was not theslightest chance, she feared, of his returning for some time to come.

  Next morning the family at the manor-house were early on foot. Thesergeant was evidently so well satisfied with the way he and hiscompanions had been treated, that he had no wish to move forward. Forthe sake of the young Battiscombes, the Colonel was not in a great hurryto get rid of them, as he otherwise would have been. In order to havean excuse for remaining longer, the sergeant sent off one of his men toLyme to learn whether he was to take his prisoners to that place, or toconvey them to Dorchester, where, as the assize was soon to commence,they would have a speedy trial. Alice was in hopes that they would bedetained another night, and Stephen and Andrew might then be persuadedto make their escape. Having dressed herself as much as possible like awaiting-maid, she took the opportunity of visiting them during thedinner-hour, under the pretence of carrying in their food. Stephen, toher disappointment, was firm as before; the same reasons weighed withhim. It grieved him to say so, but he was sure that he was actingrightly. She had not long left the room when Mr Willoughby returned.He looked fatigued and out of spirits as he passed along the passage tothe Colonel's private room, for it could not be justly called a study.Some time passed, when Madam Pauline, who was eager to hear what hadhappened, went in, accompanied by Alice. Mr Willoughby, who in themeantime had had a long conversation with the Colonel, now told MadamPauline his first visit was to the abode of Farmer Stubbs, which to hisdismay he found empty. Mrs Stubbs had gone no one could tell whither,possibly carried off by the soldiers in revenge for the escape ofStephen and Andrew, although he was not aware of that at the time. Thefarm itself had not been pillaged, except of portable provisions. Thiswas probably owing to its distance from the camp, or it would have faredbut ill. Unable to hear what had become of his young friends, MrWilloughby had gone on to Bridgewater, and had run a great risk of beingseized as a suspected adherent of the Duke of Monmouth, and it was onlyby asserting that he was brother-in-law to Colonel Tregellen, awell-known Royalist, that he had escaped. He had done his most to gaininformation of his young friends, of course in vain. It would have beenfolly to try and get access to any of the leaders for the purpose ofpurchasing their pardon till he could learn where they were. He saidthat he was sick at heart at the sight of the heads of the haplessrebels which were seen at the entrance of every village, while gibbetsin great numbers lined the roads in the neighbourhood of Bridgewater.Mr Willoughby had several narrow escapes, when he encountered an oldacquaintance, who was no other than Cornet Bryce. He had to look at himhard, for he little expected to see him in military guise. The Cornetlooked much cast down. Mr Willoughby learned from him the cause of hisdepression, the escape, namely, of two prisoners. He fully expected tobe placed under arrest and severely punished, should it be discovered bythe General that they had got off. Mr Willoughby was not long inascertaining that the two missing prisoners were the sons of his friend.He kept his counsel as to his object in coming to Bridgewater, andreturned home as soon as he could. Alice was glad to see him arrive, asshe thought he might possibly try to induce Stephen and Andrew toescape. He saw clearly the danger to which the Colonel would beexposed, and declined in any way committing himself, though he promised,should they be delivered over to the officers of the law, to use everyexertion to obtain their pardon or liberation.

  As the sergeant had not ordered the man he sent to Lyme to make anyhaste, it was late in the day before he returned with orders to carryhis prisoners to Dorchester. "I suppose, Colonel, that you do notinsist on our setting out this afternoon?" said the sergeant. "It is along day's ma
rch to Dorchester. We should make it better by startingfresh in the morning."

  The Colonel assured the sergeant that he was welcome to remain. He knewthat in the meantime Mr Battiscombe was exerting himself, throughcertain friends, with those in authority to obtain the pardon of hissons. Every day he gained was of consequence. He also hoped leavemight be obtained to enable them to perform the journey on horseback.In the evening he came over to see his two sons. The parting was anaffecting one. Though he had been exerting himself to obtain theirpardon, he knew too well that his efforts might prove fruitless. Heremained that night at the manor-house, that he might be with them aslong as possible. When he asked leave of the sergeant to allow his sonsto ride on horseback, the request was refused, on the ground that hecould not grant them a favour which was denied to the other prisoners,and that as he and his men would have to march on foot, they must becontent to proceed in the same manner.

  A sad procession set forth from Eversden Manor on the early dawn of abright autumn morning. Each prisoner was conducted by two guards withloaded muskets. Farewells had been spoken, and the order to march wasgiven.

  Though no mention has been made of the other prisoners, they had beentreated at the manor-house with every kindness and consideration, andhad been supplied with means for purchasing provisions on the way, aswell as on their arrival. Mr Battiscombe rode a short distance beyondthe Hall with his sons. Upon his return home, Mr Battiscombe said thathe had left the party marching on in tolerably good spirits, notbelieving, from the numbers already executed, that many more victimswould be required to satisfy the demands of the law. Alas! they were tofind that they were terribly mistaken.