Roger Willoughby: A Story of the Times of Benbow, Page 2

  CHAPTER TWO.

  Madam Pauline, aided by Alice and several active-fingered maidens,laboured without cessation for several hours till they had preparedRoger's kit as far as circumstances would allow. The Colonel hadretired to his chamber, and Mr Willoughby had seen Master Handscombe toone which had been prepared for him. Roger and Stephen had fallenasleep in spite of their intention of sitting up all night to be readyfor the morning, when suddenly a strong blast, which found its waythrough the window, blew out two of the lamps at which the maidens hadbeen working. Madam Pauline ordered them to run and shut it. Scarcelyhad this been done, when another blast, sweeping round the house, shookit almost to its foundation, setting all the windows and doors rattlingand creaking. Even Stephen and Roger were at length awakened. The windhowled and whistled and shrieked among the surrounding trees, thethunder roared, the lightning flashed, the rain came down in torrents.

  "Which way does the wind blow, think you?" asked Roger in an anxioustone.

  "From the south-west, I fear," answered Stephen. "And if so, CaptainBenbow will have reason to wish that he had got a good offing from theshore before it came on."

  "Surely she's a stout craft, and will stand a worse gale than this,"answered Roger.

  "I do not know what you would call a worse gale than this," saidStephen. "It makes the house rock, and I should not be surprised tofind many an old elm torn up by the roots."

  "I wish that I had been on board to assist our brave friend and hiscrew," said Roger.

  "You may have reason to be thankful that you are safe on shore,"remarked Stephen. "Such a gale as this is sufficient to drive even astouter ship than the _Benbow_ frigate from her anchors; but we mustwait patiently till the morning to ascertain the truth."

  "Why should that be?" exclaimed Roger. "I am not afraid of the wind,and can find my way if it were twice as dark as it is.--Come along."

  Stephen, however, who was not inclined to expose himself to theinclemency of the weather, proposed that they should wait till themorning.

  "No, no," said Roger, rising and putting on his clothes; "if we are tobe of any use we should go at once."

  "Certainly, if such is the case," said Stephen, also rising. "But I amafraid that we can render no assistance to the stout frigate if she isin peril."

  "Let us go and see about it, at all events," said Roger, who hadfinished dressing.

  They put on their thick overcoats; fortunately Stephen had left his somedays before at the manor-house. They had hitherto awakened no one, andhad just reached the side-door when they saw a light coming along thepassage.

  "Who goes there?" asked a voice, which they recognised as that of MrWilloughby. "Whither are you going, lads, on such a night as this?" heinquired.

  "We are greatly afraid that some misadventure may have befallen the_Benbow_ frigate, and are going to see, father. You will not say us no,I hope?"

  Mr Willoughby hesitated, but Roger pressed the point, and finallyobtained leave, his father assisting them to close the door, to do whichrequired no small amount of exertion. So great was the darkness, inspite of Roger's knowledge of the road and the lantern he carried, thelads could not at times clearly see their way. The wind blew in theirfaces the branches waved to and fro, the tall trees bent, while ever andanon down came the rain in huge drops battering against them. Stillthey struggled on. Crossing the downs, they had still to make greaterexertions, or further progress would have been impossible, but they werenot to be daunted.

  "We must take care that we do not go suddenly over the edge of thecliff," said Stephen, who was always cautious. "Even with the light ofthe lantern it is difficult to distinguish it."

  "I shall see it clearly enough when we get there," said Roger. "But Ipropose that we first visit Ben Rullock's cottage, and get him and hisboy to help us; he will know whereabouts the ship lies."

  "But you do not think we can go off to the ship in his boat?" remarkedStephen.

  "No; my fear is that the ship may be driven in close to the shore, andthat her crew may be unable to escape from her," said Roger.

  He, knowing the locality well, even in the darkness, managed to hit thepath which led down to the old fisherman's cottage; he and hiscompanion, however, had to walk cautiously, for it was narrow andwinding, and a false step might have sent them over the cliff.

  On reaching the door they knocked loudly.

  "Ben Rullock, turn out! turn out! there is a ship in danger!" shoutedRoger. But the dashing of the breakers on the shore, and the howling ofthe wind, produced so wild an uproar that his voice was not heard.Again and again he and Stephen shouted and knocked louder and louder.

  "Who's there wanting me at this hour of the morning?" they at lengthheard a voice from within exclaim. Roger repeated what he had beforesaid, and at length old Ben came to the door with a candle, which wasimmediately blown out.

  "A ship in danger, young master!" he exclaimed. "I have not heard herguns firing, or other signal of distress, and my ears are pretty sharp,even when I am asleep."

  "We are anxious about the _Benbow_ frigate, as we are afraid that shemay have been driven on shore."

  "Her captain knows too well what he is about to allow her to do that,"answered old Ben. "He had not been aboard yesterday evening two minutesbefore he got under weigh, and must have gained a good offing before thegale came on."

  "I heartily hope that such may be the case," observed Stephen.

  "I am afraid that if he got under weigh he will not be coming back,"said Roger.

  "We shall soon know," observed Ben. "Dawn is just breaking, and it willbe daylight ere long.--Come in, young gentlemen, and in the meantime,for you are wet through, I will rouse up young Toby, and we will have afire lighted to dry your wet duds."

  The lads were glad enough to accept old Ben's invitation, for thoughthey had strained their eyes to the utmost no sign could they discoverof the _Benbow_ frigate, but they fancied that the darkness, which isgenerally the greatest an hour before dawn, had concealed her from theirsight. Toby, who turned out on being called, quickly lighted a firewith the driftwood, of which there was generally an abundant supply onthe beach, and they sat before it for some time drying their wetclothes, its bright light preventing them from seeing how rapidly thedawn was advancing. At length Roger starting up exclaimed, "Why, it isnearly broad daylight: we shall be well able to see the ship where shelay at anchor."

  "I doubt if you will see her there or anywhere else," said old Ben, ashe accompanied Roger and Stephen, who eagerly ran out of the cottage.

  Though the rain had ceased, the gale was blowing as hard as ever, whilethe spray which rose from the breakers dashing on the shore beneaththeir feet filled the air as they reached a point where, by shadingtheir eyes with their hands, they could obtain a view over the wholebay. They eagerly looked out, but nowhere was the _Benbow_ frigate tobe seen. Ben's information was correct.

  It was evident that Captain Benbow, on perceiving the approach of badweather, had immediately got under weigh to gain a good offing. In vainthe lads gazed along the whole line of the horizon extending from theBill of Portland to the Start--not a sail was visible.

  "Maybe she's run in for shelter on the other side of Portland, or, stillmore likely, has stood on through the Needle passage to bring up insidethe Isle of Wight," observed Ben. "She will not be coming back here,you may depend on?"

  As there was nothing more to be done, Roger, greatly disappointed,returned with Stephen to the manor-house. He was very glad to find thatthe ship had escaped, but he was afraid that it might be long before shewould return, and his hopes of going to sea on board her would berealised.

  The gale lasted scarcely the usual three days, when the weather becameas fine as before, and Roger paid many a visit to the shore in the hopesof seeing the _Benbow_ frigate coming once more to an anchorage. Thoughmany ships passed by, they were bound up or down Channel, and none camenear the land.

  It was the first great disappointment Roger had ever had.
Day after daywent by, but still the _Benbow_ frigate did not make her appearance.Sometimes he hoped that he should receive a letter from her captain,telling him to come to some port farther west; where he might go onboard, but no letter was received. The thought occurred to him that thevessel had been wrecked or had gone down during that dreadful night, butold Ben assured him that she had got under weigh while the wind wassufficiently to westward to enable her to weather Portland Bill and itsdreaded Race, and that she was well out at sea before the worst of itcommenced.

  "All a sailor wishes for is a stout ship and plenty of sea-room, youshould know, Master Roger, and if he gets that he is content, as I havea notion Captain Benbow was on that night," observed the old man.

  Roger often looked at his chest of clothes, and at length he did upthose Stephen had brought him, and took them back to Langton Park, buthis friend begged him to keep them.

  "You may want them still, I hope, and you will not refuse to oblige anold friend by accepting them," he said.

  Meantime Mr Handscombe accompanied Mr Willoughby to pay a visit toSquire Battiscombe at Langton Park; his object he did not explain.

  "I have a notion that your worthy friend has some other object besidesattending to his mercantile affairs in his visit to the west country,"observed the Colonel to his brother-in-law, who came back to themanor-house without his companion.

  "If you do not insist on knowing, it were as well that I should not tellyou," answered Mr Willoughby. "All I can say is that he is muchtouched by the Duke of Monmouth, Lord Shaftesbury, and others, and thathe is a true Protestant and right honest man. He is bound for Bristol,from which place he promises to write to me, though it may be some timebefore I shall hear from him."

  The Colonel was satisfied with this explanation; it did not occur to himthat any evil consequences would arise from his receiving so respectablea personage as Mr Handscombe at his house.

  Roger was expecting another visit from Stephen, and perhaps MistressAlice might have been looking forward with some pleasure to his coming,when a note was received from him saying that by his father's expressdesire he was about to accompany Mr Handscombe to Bristol; that beforethe note would reach Roger he should already have set out. He regrettednot having had time to pay a farewell visit, and begged to send his kindregards to Madam Pauline and Mistress Alice, as also to the Colonel andMr Willoughby. "Mr Handscombe," he continued, "undertakes to place mein a situation of trust, and my father thinks that it would be folly todecline so fine an opportunity of forwarding my interests in life. Ipromise you, Roger, that should I hear of any situation which you canfill with advantage, I will not fail to let you know, and I hope thatyour father and the Colonel will approve of your accepting it; you knowthat I mean what I say, and therefore do not look upon it as a meremake-believe promise."

  This last paragraph somewhat consoled Roger for the regret he felt atthe loss of his friend and companion.

  "I am sure he will do his best," said Mistress Alice, who was alwaysready to praise Stephen; she, indeed, thought there were but few peoplelike him in the world.

  "Yes, he is honest and truthful, two excellent qualities in a youngman," observed Madam Pauline.

  "Yes, that he is, and I shall not find any one like him in this part ofthe country," said Roger.

  Stephen often said the same thing of his friend.

  Roger Willoughby had now plenty of time to attend to his studies; hecontinued working away steadily with his book of navigation, as well aswith the few other works which he possessed, his uncle and fatherhelping him to the best of their ability, but neither of them had hadmuch time in their youth for study. He obtained rather more assistancefrom Master Holden, who was very willing to impart such knowledge as hepossessed, albeit not of a description which Roger especially prized.

  Almost sooner than he expected, Roger received a note from StephenBattiscombe, saying that his good fortune had been greater than heexpected. He had got a situation in one of the principal mercantilehouses in Bristol with which Mr Handscombe was connected, and that apost for which he considered Roger very well suited being vacant, he hadapplied and obtained it for him.

  "Lose no time in setting out," he wrote, "for after a few weeks'training we are to sail on board one of the ships belonging to the firmfor the Levant."

  Mr Willoughby and the Colonel were highly pleased with this. It seemedto open the way to Roger's advancement, while he would be able togratify his taste for the sea without being bound to it, as he wouldhave been had he sailed with Captain Benbow. The question arose how hewas to get to Bristol. The distance was considerable, upwards of sixtymiles in a straight line, and much more when the turnings of the roadswere calculated, which roads were in many places in a very badcondition. Roger himself, who was eager to set out, proposed performingthe journey on a small horse or cob, with such luggage as could becarried in his valise and saddle-bags, while the remainder was to besent by the stage-wagon from Lyme.

  "But, my dear boy, you might be attacked by highwaymen, and robbed andmurdered on the road," said his father.

  "I will try to beat off any highwaymen who may attack me, or gallop awayfrom them," answered Roger. "Besides, I doubt whether any gentlemen ofthe road would think it worth while to attack a boy like me; theygenerally fly at higher game. I have been talking to Tobias Platt, andhe says that old Tony, though he has not done much work of late, willcarry me well, and that if I do not push him too hard, I may do thejourney in three days, or four at the most."

  Old Tony was a cob which Mr Willoughby had ridden several years, butwas now allowed to spend most of his days in the meadows. As no bettermode of conveyance could be suggested, it was arranged that Roger shouldset out in a couple of days with his valise and saddle-bags, with abrace of pistols and a sword for his protection, in the use of which hehad been well instructed by the Colonel. Old Tony in the meantime wasfed on oats to prepare him for the journey. Just as Roger was about toset out, the Colonel received an intimation that his neighbour, MrBattiscombe, would proceed the following day in the same direction, andhe accordingly rode over to Langton to ask whether he would allow Rogerto travel in his company.

  "With great pleasure," he replied, "although, as I have several placesto visit I may be longer about the journey than he would were he to goalone."

  This, however, was of little consequence compared to the advantage itwould be to Roger to travel with a gentleman who would, of course, haveseveral servants in attendance.

  The morning arrived in which Roger Willoughby was to start from the homeof his childhood to commence the active business of life. He was tosleep at Langton Park that he might start at daybreak the followingmorning with Mr Battiscombe.

  The Colonel accompanied him part of the way.

  "It is as well that you should make your appearance alone," he observed."It will show that you can take care of yourself, for your father and Ihave given you plenty of good advice, and all I have now to counsel youis to remember and follow it at the proper time. I have always foundyou to be honest and upright. Continue to be so. Fear God, and do yourduty to man, and you will grow up all your father and I wish to see you.Now, fare thee well," he added, pressing Roger's hand. "If thisproposed expedition to sea be carried out, you will witness strangesights and things of which you little dream at present, and you willcome back, I hope, well able to amuse us two old men in our solitudewith an account of your adventures."

  The Colonel turned his horse's head, and Roger rode forward on his nagto Langton Hall. The squire received him in the kindest way possible.

  "As I cannot take one of my sons, I am glad of your company, Roger,though it may delay your arrival at Bristol for some days," he observed.

  "I thought that the journey could be performed in three days," saidRoger.

  "So it can under ordinary circumstances," answered Mr Battiscombe, "butthere may be interruptions, and we may have to tarry at the houses offriends; but I will talk to you more about that matter when we are onthe road."


  Roger was always treated as a friend by the family at Langton Hall, whothought of him more as the son of Mr Willoughby, who agreed with themin politics and religion, than as the nephew of the Cavalier ColonelTregellen, with whom they differed on many points.

  At an early hour the following morning the whole family were astir tosee the travellers start. Mr Battiscombe took with him a couple ofstout serving-men, well mounted on strong horses. Farewells wereuttered, and they set out. Leaving Axminster and Chard to the west,they proceeded northward along green lanes, the hedges on either siderich with flowers of varied tints. For some distance they met with fewpersons, for the labourers were out in the fields, and no travellerswere journeying along those by-roads. The first day's journey was but ashort one, as Mr Battiscombe was unwilling to run the risk of knockingup his horses. As there was no inn on the road, they stopped at thehouse of a friend of his, holding the same religious and politicalopinions. As Roger took but little interest in the subjects theydiscussed over the decanters of beer which were placed on the table atsupper, he was not sorry to be ordered off to bed.

  "If we do not make more progress than we have done to-day, it will be along time before we get to Bristol," he thought. "Had I been by myself,I could have made my nag go twice as far. However, we shall see howmuch we can accomplish to-morrow."

  As on the previous day, they started at early dawn, that, as MrBattiscombe said, "they might run no risk of having to travel by night."They stopped at noon at a farm-house, with the owner of which MrBattiscombe was well acquainted. The family were sitting down todinner, and the travellers were warmly invited to enter and partake ofthe abundant though somewhat rough fare placed on the board. At one endof the table sat the sturdy farmer with his buxom wife and his sons anddaughters; at the other were the farm-servants, with wooden bowls andplatters before them, their knives the only implements they possessed tohelp themselves to food.

  "We are about to make holiday this afternoon Mr Battiscombe," said thefarmer. "The great Duke of Monmouth, with a party of friends, hasridden down from London to pay us west country folks a visit, and is onhis way to stop at White Lackington House, where Mr George Speke awaitsto welcome him. The country people from all quarters are turning out todo him honour, and we wish to show the affection we all feel for thechampion of the Protestant faith."

  "I had some intimation of this a few days ago, and so timed my journeyto Bristol that I might be able to pay my respects to our brave Duke,"said Mr Battiscombe.

  As soon as dinner was over the farmer and his sons mounted their horses,and the whole party rode forward at a more rapid rate than MrBattiscombe and Roger had gone on the previous day. As they reached thehigh-road which was between Ilchester and Ilminster, they saw numbers ofpeople, some on horseback, some on foot, hurrying up from alldirections, both men and women, among them several parties of youngmaidens dressed in white, and carrying baskets of flowers, the mengenerally in their gayest costumes. Presently the cry arose, "The Dukeis coming!" when the young women hurried on and strewed the road withherbs and flowers, and as the Duke appeared, incessant shouts arose,"God bless King Charles and the Protestant Duke!" No one could look onhim without admiring his fine figure, his handsome features, andgraceful manner, as he bowed with his plumed hat, now to one side, nowto the other. It was truly an exciting scene. Banks lined with peoplein their gayest dresses, trees covered with boys who had climbed up toobtain a better view of the spectacle, banners with various deviceswaving everywhere, while the people bawled themselves hoarse withshouting their joyous welcomes. Mr Battiscombe was among those whorode forward to salute the Duke and then to fall into his train, whichwas rapidly increasing. At last two thousand appeared in one body fromthe direction of Ilminster, more and more continuing to pour in, tilltheir numbers must have swelled to twenty thousand at least. MrBattiscombe met several friends and acquaintances, with whom he heldconversation, and all were unanimous in speaking of the affability andcondescension of the Duke. Thus for several miles they rode on, theirnumbers increasing, till they reached the confines of White LackingtonPark. Mr Speke, the owner, who had been prepared for the Duke'scoming, rode out with a body of retainers to welcome his Grace; and thatthere might be no impediment to the entrance of the multitude who hadarrived, he forthwith ordered several perches of the park paling to betaken down. In front of the house stood a group of Spanishchestnut-trees, famed for their size and beauty; beneath them wereplaced tables abundantly spread with all varieties of refreshment, ofwhich the Duke with his immediate attendants were invited to partake.

  Mr Speke no sooner observed Mr Battiscombe than, beckoning to him, heintroduced him to the Duke, with whom he had much conversation, whileRoger was left by himself to watch the proceedings. The horsemen roderound and round that they might obtain a good view of the Duke, whilethose on foot pressed forward for the same purpose, and it was notwithout difficulty that they were prevented from approaching too near.No person, indeed, under royal rank had ever been received with therespect and honours now bestowed on the Duke. So well accustomed,however, was he to be thus treated, that he took everything as a matterof course; at the same time he expressed his gratitude to his nobleentertainers for the honour they were doing him. He was leaning backtalking to Mr Battiscombe, his hand hanging carelessly over the side ofthe chair, when from among the crowd a woman rushed forward, and eagerlyseizing it, placed it on her head and face. The Duke, apparently muchastonished, started up.

  "Why did you do that, good woman?" he asked.

  "That I might be cured of the king's evil, for which I have in vainapplied all the remedies the surgeons can prescribe," she answered. "Ihave also travelled a score of miles that I might be touched by theseventh son of a seventh son, though all with no effect; but now I amassured that I shall recover."

  "I pray that you may, good woman," said the Duke, "though I know not howfar the power of curing resides in me. What is your name?"

  "Elizabeth Parcet."

  "Here," said the Duke, producing a coin from his pocket, "this may helpto console you should my touch fail to produce the desired effect." Thewoman on this immediately retired, telling all those present that shefelt sure she should ere long recover.

  The Duke slept that night at White Lackington House, to which Mr Spekeinvited Mr Battiscombe and Roger, who had thus a further opportunity ofseeing the Duke. The next day the Duke set forth to visit Sir JohnSydenham at Brampton House, where he was entertained with a splendiddinner. In the evening he went on to Barrington Court, the seat of SirWilliam Strode, who had prepared another sumptuous entertainment to dohim honour. After dinner, attended by a multitude of people, he rode toChard, at which town he was met and welcomed by a crowd of men, women,and children, all shouting their welcomes till their voices were hoarse.At night he slept at Ford Abbey, where he was treated to a verysplendid supper by the owner, Mr Edmund Prideaux.

  Mr Battiscombe would willingly have accompanied His Grace during therest of his progress, but he was compelled to proceed on his journey.He, however, received due notice of the movements of the Duke, whovisited many other gentlemen of rank and influence throughoutSomersetshire and other parts in the west. He received, too, notice ofthe perfect cure of Elizabeth Parcet, the document being signed by HenryClark, minister of Crewkerne, two captains, a clergyman, and fourothers, which was forwarded to him before he reached Bristol.

  "This is wonderful!" he exclaimed as he showed it to Roger. "It provesone of two things, either that the Duke of Monmouth is the lawful son ofCharles the Second, or that imagination must have had a powerfulinfluence on the poor woman, for it is here stated that in two days shewas perfectly well."

  "Is it not possible that there may not be a third solution to themystery?" asked Roger, who was clear-sighted and somewhatmatter-of-fact. "There being a good many people who desire to have itsupposed that the Duke is the rightful heir to the throne of England, itis possible that the paper was a bold forgery, drawn up for the purposeof in
fluencing the populace. Either the woman may have been hired toplay her part, and was not really a martyr to the king's evil, or shemay not be cured. It might be worth while to inquire whether Mr Clark,the minister of Crewkerne, ever put his signature to the paper, or ifsuch a person exists; such, I suspect, would be the opinion my unclewould have formed on the subject."

  "Thou art a thorough infidel, Roger!" exclaimed Mr Battiscombe in ahalf angry tone, though he confessed there was some probability in whatRoger said.

  Be that as it may, the document produced the effect intended on theminds of many of the ignorant, not only in the West of England but inLondon, where it was circulated, and the Duke and his supporters werenot persons generally inclined to contradict what was calculated toforward their objects.

  Instead of three or four days, more than a week had passed before MrBattiscombe and Roger reached Bristol, where Stephen welcomed them atthe lodgings he occupied, close to the mansion of the wealthy firm inwhose service he was employed. Mr Handscombe was still there, thoughabout to return to London. He was highly pleased at hearing of thereception the Duke had met with.

  "He has been sowing the seeds which will, I hope, produce ample fruit ingood time," he observed. "While his present Majesty lives, though atheart more Papist than Protestant, it may be well for him to remainquiet; but should James Duke of York come to the throne, it will be timefor all who love our Protestant principles to rally round the standardof Monmouth."

  Mr Battiscombe having soon transacted the business which had broughthim to Bristol, took his departure to return south with Mr Handscombe.

  Roger set to work with the zeal which was one of his characteristics tomaster the details of the work he had undertaken, and soon won theapproval and confidence of his employers.

  Bristol, though covering a much less extent of ground than at thepresent time, was then looked upon as a large city, but its beautifulchurches were surrounded by a labyrinth of narrow lanes, through which acoach or cart could with difficulty pass along; goods were thereforeconveyed about the town almost exclusively in trucks drawn by dogs. Aseven the chief merchants could not use carriages when they went abroad,they walked on foot, attended by servants in rich liveries. They wererenowned also for their luxurious entertainments, when their guests weresupplied with a beverage composed of the richest Spanish wines, known as"Bristol milk." The merchants traded chiefly to the West Indies and theAmerican plantations, as also to the coast of Africa and the Levant. Itwas in one of these princely firms that Stephen Battiscombe and RogerWilloughby were so fortunate as to find employment, and, thanks to thestrong recommendation of Mr Handscombe, they were both placed in postsof trust.