Ben o' Bill's, the Luddite: A Yorkshire Tale

CHAPTER V

Chapter 55,799 wordsPublic domain

THE last day of March of that year of 1812 was a big day for me. I came of age. It would little seem me to say what mariner of man I was in the flush and vigour of my early manhood, but I was such a one as simple habits and plain fare and mountain air make of most. I was tall above the common, though even then not come to my full stature. And I was strong with a strength that frightened me. Folk marvelled at my height, for my father was but a small man, though wiry, and my mother matched my father. I had in those days ever to be careful of my head when I visited at folks' houses, for the doorways were low and there were joists in unexpected places, and many a rude knock did my poll sustain before I learned caution by hard dints. Many youths do overgrow their strength, but that did not I, and though I had not 'Siah's skill in wrestling, nor knew the tricks of the fall, 'Siah could not throw me, and once I got him in my arms, though he was thick set and solid, I could strain him in my hug till his very bones could crack. But my inches, three Score and fourteen, were much mocked by the lads about, who would make a spy-glass of their hands, and fixing an earnest gaze upon the crown of my head, would ask with mock concern if it were warm up there.

Now on this, my birthday, nought would satisfy my mother but that we should have a tea-drinking. I was in no great mood for such doings, but my mother must ever have her way. She said it was no, ordinary birthday. A man became a man but once in a life-time, and moreover, and this settled the matter with her, in no decent family was such an event allowed to pass unmarked. Times were bad she granted, but it was not as though we were bound to live from hand to mouth. So I bid my friends. Of course, George must come, and a handsomer, brighter lad never set foot in Lower Holme than George looked that night, all fun and laughter, with a jest for everyone. And he brought with him Ben Walker, whom I made welcome, as I should have made welcome the Evil One himself had George brought him. And I liked Walker as little. From the very first I misdoubted that man. I disliked his toad's hand, his shifty eye, his low speech. There was something sly in his very tread, and his laugh had no heartiness in it. Then he was so cursedly civil to everybody. He praised my mother's cakes: never were such cakes, and though, God knows he was welcome enough to eat his fill, he did not praise them without fair trial. He praised the tea, he praised the pig-cheek, he set little Mr. Webster all of a glow by telling him how edified he was by his last discourse at Powle Moor, but he had like to have come to grief with Soldier Jack by belittling the great Duke. Then he fell to praising Mary, and here he had like to have spoiled all, for as he spoke of her good looks he let his eye dwell upon her features with a look so gross that Mary coloured red with wrath, and my mother told him sharply Mary was not a slave for sale in the market, and we needed no inventory of her charms. So he at Mr. Webster again on religion, and as Buck Walker, his father, had turned pious in his latter days, and was now a leader at the Powle, the good man and Ben hit it rarely together. But his eye, I noted, ever wandered to Mary, and it liked me not.

I had asked, too, John Booth and his sister Faith, a demure young maid as ever made a courtesy. She was just all that Mary was not, and yet she pleased, which, when you think of it, should set us marvelling at the great goodness of God that hath so fashioned our maids that even their very extremes are admirable. For Mary was rosy and plump, with auburn curling hair, that would never be kept by net or string, but would escape and wanton over her face and neck, and had a laughing eye of blue, with rosy lips, and a saucy tongue. A very ray of warm sunshine was Mary.

But Faith was dark as a sloe as to hair and eye, with a skin of delicate white, and slender as a lily's stalk, and gentle of speech and somewhat shy of manner, yet with no awkwardness withal. My heart, did warm to her from the first, and I think too she favoured me from the very day her brother made us acquaint at his master's shop in Huddersfield. Perhaps because I was so big and strong, whilst her brother, though wonderful far learned in books, and with as big a soul as was ever put in man's body, was only a short remove from a woman in those things which women love in man. And strange as it is that two maids so unlike should both be so sweet to live with and to think upon, is it not stranger still that two men so unlike as Soldier Jack and myself should be at one about Faith's sweetness and loveableness.

Jack, if we might credit his own word in the matter, had a wide experience in the lists of love, but chiefly, I fear, among the hussies that followed the camp and the warm and yielding beauties of sunny Spain. Yet did this tried veteran surrender the garrison of his heart without parley and without terms to the gentle assault of this pure and modest lass, but with no thought of other love than a father's or a brother's, for Jack was well into the forties, and had had his fill of the burnings of a warmer flame.

Now after our tea-drinking was done, my father and Mr. Webster settled down by the fireside to smoke their pipes and talk of town's affairs and the ever pressing sufferings of the poor. Mr. Webster's talk was heavy hearing. He knew every family on that hill-side, and scarce one was free from griping want. The parson's voice would falter and tears come to his eyes as he told his tale, and I could see my father shift uneasily in his chair and his hand wander to his pocket, and my mother would break in with "Hear to him, now!" "The likes o' that," "God save us," and so on. And presently she went into the outer kitchen where leavings of our feast were spread, and when Mr. Webster went home that night Josiah trudged by his side with a hamper of good things. Not, be sure, for Mr. Webster himself, for of his own needs, though these were rather suspected than known for sure, the good man spoke not at all; and I will go bail he proved a trusty steward of the comforts borne on 'Siah's broad shoulders.

For us younger ones there was no lack of sport, Postman's Knock and Forfeits and other games in which there is overmuch kissing to my present thinking though I did not think so then. And if, whenever the rules of the game did give me occasion, I chose Faith rather than Mary, had I not reason in that Faith was the greater stranger to our house, and I was ever taught to be civil to our guests. And I was no little nettled by the carryings on of Mary and George. In my heart I cried shame on Mary, and said to myself it was unseemly that a maiden of a respectable family should so set herself at any man. It was "George" here and "George" there, and "Cousin Mellor" and "Cousin Mary," though what kinship of blood there was between them was so slight it was a manifest pretence and cloak to make so much of it. I do hate a forward girl, and it was not like our Mary to make herself so sheap. Why, but the week before, being moved thereto on seeing her more tantalizingly pretty than common, I had made to give her a cousinly salute, and she had smacked me smartly on the cheek and started away in a rare pet. But I took care this night she should see I could play the swain as well as any George among them, and Faith seemed nothing loth. Not that she was over-bold. When I would kiss her she would turn her cheek to me with a pretty readiness, and seemed in no wise to mind it; but when George could spare a thought for any but Mary, and choose Faith, the colour would crimson her cheeks and brow, and she would turn her face away, and then, lo! all her flush would fade and leave her pale and trembling.

But we were perhaps getting over old for such games not yet old enough for the whist to which our elders had betaken themselves. So Mary, after no little urging thereto, did seat herself at the spinnet, which was a new joy in our house and had been the occasion of some bitterness to our friends. And touching the keys softly thus she sang very roguishly:--

"Love was once a little boy, Heigh ho! heigh ho! Then with him 'twas sweet to toy Heigh ho! heigh ho! He was then so innocent, Not as now on mischief bent; Free he came; and harmless went, Heigh ho! heigh ho! Love is now a little man, Heigh ho! heigh ho! And a very saucy one, Heigh ho! heigh ho! He walks so gay and looks so smart, As if he owned each maiden's heart I wish he felt his own keen dart, Heigh ho! heigh ho'! Love, they say, is growing old, Heigh ho! heigh ho! Half his life's already told, Heigh ho! heigh ho! When, he's dead and buried too. What shall we poor maidens do? I'm sure I cannot tell--can you? Heigh ho! heigh ho!"

Whereat my father and Soldier Jack shouted lustily "Heigh ho'! heigh ho!" and my mother shook her head but with a smile, and Mr. Webster must confess it was a pretty air and taking one, and trusted the singing thereof was not a holding of the candle to the Evil One. But Mary made a mouth at him and said, 'twould be time enough to be sad when she was too old to be merry.

Now after the singing of this catch it so befell that my mother had some occasion to desire from the village some small matter for the supper table, and Martha being intent upon getting ready the supper she bid Mary privily slip away and fetch the things she needed. This did Ben Walker overhear, though it was no business of his, and when Mary, watching her chance, had gone softly out of the one door, Ben, making some excuse, did steal away by the other, a thing we thought nothing of, deeming it but natural that a young man should seek to company a maid, and I not uneasy on Mary's account, the night being fine and clear, and decent women being not molested in our parts, where strangers came little, and all were as friends and neighbours.

Now she had been gone some three parts of an hour, when I heard the front door open hurriedly and then slam to. My mother rose quickly and went into the parlour. It was in darkness, for we seldom used it save for company, and for our company of this night it was not large enough. But despite the gloom I knew it was Mary. My mother drew her into the house and placed her in her own rocking-chair. All had risen to their feet. Mary's hat was hanging by its strings down her back. Her decent neckerchief that covered her neck and bosom had been torn aside, and some of the fastenings of her dress undone. She was panting hard for breath, and for a time could form no word.

"Where's Ben Walker?" I said, and then Mary found her voice.

"Aye," she cried, "where is he? Oh! the coward, the coward!" and then she sobbed and cried again "Oh! the coward, the coward." And just then the sneck was lifted and Ben Walker walked in.

He stood in the door way; but I banged the door behind him; and Soldier Jack took him by the arm and drew him into the room, whilst Faith soothed Mary and straightened her dress.

"And now, Ben Walker, give an account o' thissen," said George, standing before the shrinking man, with clenched fist and a flashing eye.

And Walker shamed and faltered. His eye wandered from one face to another, and found no comfort anywhere.

"It's noan o' my doing, George. Tha' needn't look so fierce. Awn laid no hand on her, han aw Mary? Speak th' truth, choose what tha' does, it goes th' furthest."

"Oh! you coward, you pitiful coward!" was all that Mary could say; but she was calmer now.

"It wer' this way," continued Walker reluctantly. "We'd done th' shopping at Ned o' Bill's, an' had passed th' church an' got well into th' lane comin' back. Aw wer' carryin' th' basket."

"Where is th' basket?" cried my mother.

"By gow, I reckon aw mun ha' dropped it. Aw nivver gav' it a thowt', an' aw nivver missed it till nah. As aw wer' saying', aw wer' huggin' th' basket wi' one arm, an' aw'd axed Mary to hold on to th' other."

"As if aw'd link wi' sich as thee," said Mary, bridling again.

"An all at onst, about half-way up th' broo' a felly lope ovver th' wall. He wer' a big un, aw tell yo', an' ther' wer' more behind, aw heard 'em eggin' 'im on. If he'd been by hissen aw'd ha stood up to him if he'd been as big as a steeple. He said nowt to me, but he gate hold o' Mary an 'oo started to scream an' struggle, an' aw heerd him say he'd have a kiss if he died for it. Aw wer' for parting on 'em, but he gav' me such a look, an' aw thowt aw heerd others comin, so aw just made off across th' fields. Tha' knows, George, duty afore everything, an' if th' soldiers is about they're happen comin' here an' tha' knows best whether tha' wants to see 'em."

"A soldier was it," I cried. "What mak' o' man wor he?"

"Aw tell thee bigger nor thissen, wi' a black poll an' a eye like a dagger blade for keen, an' ther' were a scar across his face."

"It were one o' them chaps 'at's stayin' at John Race's at th' Red Lion i' Marsden," said Mary. "He stopped me once afore a week back, when aw wer' walkin' out that way on. But he spoke me civil then, an' aw thowt nowt on it. But he's been drinkin' to-neet an' used me rough an' fleyed me. But aw reckon he'll keep his distance another time. It'll be a lesson to him."

"How does ta mean, Mary?" said my mother. "Aw got one o' his fingers between my teeth an' aw bit him, an' bit him, an' bit him, an' he had hard to do to throw me off. Then he called me a vicious little devil, an' aw tucked up my skirts an' ran for it. Aw wer' more fleyed nor hurt. But thee! Ben Walker, thee!" and she turned from him, with a look of such contempt and scorn that Ben hung his head with a hang-dog look and mumbling something about outstaying his welcome and making his way shorter, he slunk off, no one staying him.

And thus was my birthday party dashed. We could settle down to nought after that. Mary was feverish, and laughed over much. My father talked of going down on the morrow to Milnsbridge and laying complaint to Justice Radcliffe. Little Mr. Webster said something, in a very half-hearted way, about praying for those that despitefully use us, and my mother flighted Mary, most unjustly I thought, for having ever spoken to the man at all, and so encouraged him. Soldier Jack said little, but I know he resented the outrage, for it is one thing for soldiers to make light with other folks' women-kind and another guess sort of thing to have your own friends fall into their clutches. But George was warmest of all. He made us a grand speech agen the army and officers and men, which Soldier Jack swallowed with an ill grace. Hetty listened to him with all her ears, and you could see she liked to hear him rave on. And Mary, too, when first he began, harkened keen enough, but soon she turned away impatiently and busied herself with setting the supper, and I thought she had looked for something from George which did not come.

For me, I am slow of speech, stupid, Mary ever said. But I thought to myself: "A long, tall man, as big as a steeple, with a black poll, and a scar on his cheek," and long after George and John Booth and pretty prim Faith had started for Huddersfield, and Soldier Jack and Mr. Webster had gone Powle way, I lay awake in bed thinking of a thing. The next morning I was up betimes. My father was away after the forenoon drinking, to try to sell a piece or two, a thing that every week became more difficult. There was no work to be done after the cattle had been foddered. We had almost given up work at our trade. We bad as many pieces in stock as we had room for it had gone hard with us to stop the output of country work, but what would you with the best mind in the world, you cannot go on forever making to stock. So our looms were still and time hung heavy on our bands. In the shippon I had had a word with 'Siah and when, dressed in my Sunday best, I struck off towards Marsden. I found him waiting for me on the road. "Yo' mun keep' yo're head, Ben," he said, "Watch his een. Face him square an' watch his een. He's a big 'un wi' a long reach. He'll likely come: at thee like a mad bull. Keep out on his way when he rushes. Let him tire hissen. Keep thi' wind. Dunnot let him blow thee, let him blow hissen. He'll be in bad fettle, wi' no stay in him. Th' way these sogers ha' been living lately, he'll ha' more water nor wind in him, an' more ale nor water. Then, when he shows signals o' distress, work slowly in, and when tha' gets a fair chance, hug him, break his ribs, squeeze th' guts out on him. Glory hallelujah, he'll gasp like a cod!" Then would 'Siah, after looking carefully round to see we were not observed, stop in his walk and feel my arms and legs as if I were a horse he wished to buy; then at it again with more advice. Once, with a wistful air, he surmised it might be better to fight by proxy, to let him pick a quarrel with Long Tom, as he said they called the soldier who had misused our Mary so. But he did not try long on that tack and had to content himself with hoping that some day or night, one of the red coats would try his game on with Martha and then--Glory Hallelujah! I smiled and 'Siah read my thoughts but he only said: "Oh! them sort's noan particular. An' there's points about Martha, mind you, there's points about Martha."

At the Red Lion we found John Race, the little, round, red faced landlord in no very good humour. It was early in the day for drinking, to my taste, but 'Siah having a nice sense of honour in these matters, declared we must have some thing for the good of the house and offered, if I could not stomach a pint myself, to drink my share. So I called for a quart for 'Siah. Race handled my money very lovingly and then spit over it for luck.

"It's little of the ready comes my way now, Ben," he said.

"What! and a houseful of soldiers, John?"

"Oh! dun-not speak on it, Ben," he cried. "It's a ruined man I shall be if this goes on another month. It's 'John' here and 'landlord' there from morning till night or till next morning rather. And paying for their drink is just the last thing they think of. Th' kitchen door is white wi' chalk, and, well I know it's no use keeping the scores. It's just force of habit.

"But surely, John, you need not serve them unless they pay."

"It's easy talking, Ben. Th' law's one thing, but a house full o' soldiers is another. And aw cannot be everywhere an' my dowter an' th' servant, an' for owt aw know th' missus hersen are all just in a league to ruin me. Their heads are all turned wi' th' soldiers an' such carryin's on in a decent man's house wer nivver seen before or since."

"But what about the officer in command?"

"What, him! Complaining to him is just like falling out with the devil an' going to hell for justice. Sometimes he laughs at me, sometimes he swears at me, sometimes he sneers at me, and to cap all, when I turn, as a trodden worm will turn at times, he just tells me to go clean the pewters, and send mi dowter to amuse him. An' th' warst on it is 'oo's willin' enough to go. What will be th' end of it all, is fair beyond me. But nine months 'll tell a tale i' Marsden, or my name's not John Race."

John would have run on for ever, but I was anxious to get my own business done so I bade him show me up to the Captain's room. The landlord's own private sitting room and an adjoining bedroom had been appropriated by the officer, and I followed John up the narrow, creaking, stairs. At a door on the landing he knocked, and a thin voice within called on us to enter and be damned to us.

The room was small and low and packed with furniture of all styles and ages, more like a dealer's shop than an ordinary room. Folk said that many a quaint and costly ornament had found its way to John Race's in settlement of ale shots and gone to deck the room which was his wife's delight. But Captain Northman or his friends had treated it with scant reverence. On a table in the centre were a pack or two of cards and a couple of candles, that had guttered in the socket. A decanter half full of brandy stood by their side, whilst another, empty, and the fragments of a glass, lay on the floor. Boots, spurs, gloves, swords canes, were strewn about on the chairs, and the scent of stale tobacco reek and fumes of strong waters filled the room. A table, with an untasted breakfast set upon it, was drawn to the window, and by it, in a cushioned chair, sat a young man of some five and twenty years, dressed in his small clothes and a gaudy dressing-gown, yawning wofully and raising with unsteady hand a morning draught to his tremulous lips. He had evidently had a night of it and his temper was none the better for it. I raised my hand respectfully to my forehead as I had seen soldiers do, but he only stretched out his legs and stared me rudely in the face.

"Well, fellow," he said at length, "what's your pleasure of me that you must break in on my breakfast?"

"My name, sir, is Benjamin Bamforth."

"Ben o' Bill's o' Holme," said the landlord.

"Well, why the devil can't he stop at home?" said my lord. "Come, sir, your business."

"Captain Northman," I said civilly, and speaking my finest, nothing daunted by his captaincy, but nettled by his slack manners, for even Mr. Chew, the vicar, treated me with civility as my father's son; "Captain Northman, you have in your Company, a soldier known as Long Tom, his proper name I know not, nor his rank."

"Corporal Tom, well, what of him?"

"Sir, I complain that last night he did wantonly and without enticement or other warrant insult my own cousin Mary, as she was returning home late in the evening."

"Well, sir?"

"And I lay this complaint that he may be punished as he deserves."

"And is that all?"

"And enough too, it seems to me, Captain Northman."

"Good God! was ever the like heard!" exclaimed the Captain. "Here I am half pulled out of my bed in the small hours by a giant boor, my head all splitting with this vile liquor not fit for hog wash, and all because Long Tom chooses to kiss a pretty girl, who ten to one was nothing loth."

"Captain Northman," I said, very quietly, "I may be a boor, but I am one of the boors that pay your wages. Neither is it the part of a gentleman to meet a request for redress by an added insult. But I see I mistook my man and now I shall take my own course." So I turned on my heels and strode down the steps.

"Long Tom's in the kitchen," whispered 'Siah, and to the kitchen I strode.

Here were about a dozen men in shirt sleeves, lounging and lolling about, some smoking, some pipe-claying their belts and polishing their arms, others drinking and at cards even thus early. It was not difficult to pick out my man. He was stood with legs outstretched before the fire. I made straight to him, and by the look he gave I knew he guessed my errand. I strode straight to him and without a word I smote him with the back of my hand across the face. The angry blood rushed to his cheeks, and he clenched his fist. The other soldiers jumped to their feet. "Fair play" cried 'Siah. "Man to man and fair play."

"A fight, a fight."

"A ring, a ring."

"Into the yard with you my bully boys" said one who seemed to have authority, and into the yard we went, the whole company behind us, in great good humour at anything that promised sport.

"Two cans to one on Long Tom," I heard. "I lay even on the bumpkin," said another, and I was grateful even for that bit of backing.

"Keep thi' temper an' bide your chance," whispered 'Siah, anxious to the last.

And then we faced each other, Long Tom and I. He was stripped to the shirt and I stripped too. He was as big a man as I with more flesh and more skill. But all the loose living had told on him and he soon began to blow. He hammered at me lustily and I took it smiling. If he brayed my face to a pulp I meant to get one in at him. My chance came at last. I put all my force and all my weight into one blow full at his mouth. He guarded and made as tho' to counter. But his guard went back on himself, and my fist went plumb on his month. He went down like a felled ox and rolled on the ground kicking his heels and spitting out blood and his teeth. Then 'Siah raised a great shout and even some of the soldiers seemed not sorry to see the mighty fallen. And 'Siah led me off, feeling dazed and weak as a woman, and with a strong bent to blubber like a baby, now it was all over, for I am not used to fighting, and would any day rather give a point or two than fratch.

John Race, in a quiet way, was as rejoiced as 'Siah, but dare not show it too openly, for fear of angering the soldiers, of whom he was in great dread. But as I put my head under the pump and swilled my face he brought me a stiff runner of brandy and would take no pay. And presently others of the company came a round me and pressed me to drink, and the little captain, who had watched us from the window, came down and urged me to take the King's shilling. "Faith," said he, "there's blood in you, man. I thought they put sizing in your veins, but it's blood after all." "Aye, my little tom tit," said 'Siah who had no reverence for dignities. "It's blood 'at wouldn't stand mastering by sich as thee. Tha' need'nt fluster thissen. Aw'm noan bahn to hurt thee. But if tha' can get any o' these felly's to back thee, aw'll be glad to feight the two on you. Will'nt one on yo' oblige me? Noa? Weel nivver mind, cap'n, aw'll happen come across thee in a year or twi when th'art full grown, an' if thi' mother 'll let thee, tha' may happen ha' a bang at me. Come, Ben, let's go back to yar wark. This is nobbut babby lakin!" And so, 'Siah bore me off, with colours flying.

On our homeward way we had much scheming as to how I should account for my face, which began to puff and show divers colours. 'Siah was for telling the story as it was, but I had no mind that Mary's name should be mixed up in it. So we kept abroad the whole day and to my mother's great grief and my father's anger we presented ourselves late at night; 'Siah really, and myself feigning to be drunk. And Mary was so disgusted that she would scarce look at me, saying the sight of my face set her against her food. But towards the week end, Martha musts have got the secret from 'Siah and passed it on, for one night when I sat brooding by the fire, with no light but the glow of the embers, a light form stole softly behind my chair, and a pair of warm arms went round my neck and a tearful voice sobbed.

"O! Ben, yo' mun forgive me. But aw'll never forgive missen."

What is the magic of a woman's kiss and how comes it that under some conditions the touch of her lips will stir you not at all, and under others will kindle in your heart a flame that lasts your life-time. Till that moment I vow I had had no love for my cousin Mary, save such as a brother may have for his sister, between which and a lover's love is, I take it, the difference between the light of the moon, and the light of the sun. I had sometimes kissed her and she had submitted as not minding. But of late she had eluded me when I had sought to salute her, which skittishness I had put down to what was going on between her and George. And now, unsought, she had put her arms about my neck and drawn back my head to the warm cushion of her breast and pressed a kiss upon my brow. And lo! love, glorious love, full grown and lusty, leaped into the ocean of my being and ruled it thenceforth for even. And yet when I sprung to my feet and held out my arms and would have taken Mary to my heart, she sprung away and bade me keep my distance, and when I made to take what she would not grant, she grew angered, so that my heart fell and I was sick with doubts and sadness. And here, tho' little given to preaching, I would deliver my homily anent all shams and make-believes. Here was Mary setting my thoughts once more on a wrong tack so that I had no choice but return to what I had taken for granted, that it was a made up thing between her and George Mellor. And but for that belief many things that happened might not have befallen. Then, too, after my fight with Long Tom, my father gave me a talking to on my loose and raffish ways, and yet the very next market day, I heard of his boasting to all and sundry of my deeds, and the rumour thereof grew so much beyond the simple truth that I should not have some day been surprised to hear that I had routed a whole regiment. My mother, too, scolded me not a little and wept over my bruised skin, but among the women folk of our parish she bragged so much of my strength and my courage that I had like to become a laughing stock among the men. Even little Mr. Webster, who spoke to me at nigh an hour's length on the sinfulness of brawling and on the Christian duty of turning, the other cheek to the smiter, did ever after that honour me by asking the support of my arm when he returned late home, saying no one would molest him while I was by. Only Martha, among them all, was honest, for she made no secret of her delight in me, loading me with praises so that 'Siah began to look at me with an evil eye, and she insisted on giving me each day to breakfast a double portion of porridge and piling up blankets on my bed till I was like to be smothered.

But Mary spoke of my doings not at all, whilst Faith, when she heard of the fray, prattled prettily a whole afternoon, and said so many sweet things to me that Mary became waspish and told her I was set up enough by nature without folk going out of their way to spoil me by soft sawder. Then Faith must unsay half she had said and finished by opining that, after all, the proper course would have been to horse-whip Captain Northman before his own Company.

And this, she thought, was what George would have done.