Wise Saws and Modern Instances Part 6

to inform his Reverence the Perpetual Curate of the same, and to request the fulfilment of the accustomed rites. But the cooler the paris.h.i.+oners grew towards "the Parson's Clerk," the hotter did the parson grow towards his paris.h.i.+oners. He scorned to compromise his sacerdotal dignity by attempting a reconciliation with the unruly spirits by which he was surrounded: he spurned the ign.o.ble example of the ancient worthies who thought the first and last part of Christianity was meekness and long-suffering; and he meditated a still more afflictive stroke of retaliation on his spiritual rebels.

Clerk William Middleton conveyed a request to his spiritual superior from a sorrowing villager to bury his dead child;--but the grand Perpetual Curate would not fulfil the request because it was brought him by the discarded, though old, hereditary Amen,--and adjourned, in dudgeon, to the hamlet of Coates,--while the poor villager's child was put into its grave,--as every child of such rebels deserved to be put,--_like a dog_,--without a prayer being read, or a hope expressed about its resurrection!

This circ.u.mstance sank deeply into the minds of the Stow revolters: it was a something that had never been heard of a clergyman in the memory of man,--at least at Stow in the parts of Lindsey: it made their skin creep, and the very "hair of their flesh to stand up,"--for they were simple, unsophisticated sort of people, and, therefore, all strong mental emotions had the same effects upon their physical frames, as the author of "Job" and Homer describe in their days. But the strong feeling did not evaporate through the pores of their skin, especially with the more n.o.ble, though tenderer, s.e.x: _they_ laid their heads together to do such a deed upon a parson as had never been done upon one since the name of parson had been known in Stow. In a short time another message had to be despatched to the Perpetual Curate: a woman had to be churched, and a child to be buried, on the same afternoon,--and, judging from the former example, the villagers conjectured that his Reverence would "make himself scarce" after the churching, and leave this child, also, unburied. And now, a valorous army of the female gender, their pockets plentifully provided with plenipotent ammunition of eggs, formed themselves, in heroic ambuscade, near the church door, purposing right courageously to a.s.sail the clerical enemy, if he should haughtily refuse the offices of Christian sepulture to the deceased child. "Enterprises of great pith and moment," however, as the immortal one saith, often "their currents turn awry, and lose the name of action." So it was in this ambuscade so gloriously planned. The clerical enemy wisely capitulated: his clerk, "the Parson's Clerk," preceded the Perpetual Curate from the church, as a herald of moderation, a.s.suring the armed battalion that his reverence would peaceably inter the child; and, forthwith, some of the gallant troop immediately _grounded_ their arms, while others preferred _throwing_ them to a distance,--in token that they put away all hostile thoughts far from them.

And here, perchance, this chivalrous history might have ended, had not the demon of Litigation, who was doubtless hovering near the field of intended affray, taken the case into his own foul hands. Some part of the rejected artillery chanced to alight upon the garments of "the Parson's Clerk's" wife, and of the Perpetual Curate's servant-maid. It was in vain that the members of the ambuscade protested this mishap to be owing in no degree to their intent:--the parson commenced an action at law against the entire petticoat regiment, or its ringleaders, for "a.s.sault and battery."

Another untoward event thickened the quarrel, and doubled the action at law; but the event itself cannot be so distinctly related as the last, seeing it occurred in the dark, while the female ambuscade was planted by broad daylight. The successor of the bishops, bearing a staff instead of a crosier, and his chosen Amen, bearing a hayfork, chanced to meet two youths connected with the revolters, one evening after dusk, in the churchyard. Who gave the primal a.s.sault cannot be positively affirmed, for it is not over safe to speak closely after the parties in a squabble, when there are no other witnesses. However, a fight certainly took place, even among the tombs of the dead; and so high did the wrath of the belligerent Clerk Spurr rise in the conflict, that a cottager, neighbouring to the church, heard with alarm, even at his own door, the said clerkly warrior threaten to stab his opponent with the hayfork! Ere the cottager could quit his door, up came the parson and demanded help; but the cottager honestly told the parson "he would look better at home." His Reverence then sought "help" at the blacksmith's shop, but there, also, no one thought he needed it,--and so he retreated to his lodgings.

Such, in a few words, was the cause of the double action at law; and, at the ensuing Kirton sessions, the two youngsters who had either cudgelled the parson, or had been cudgelled themselves, together with the ringleaders of the famous female ambuscade, were together tried for "a.s.sault and battery." But the wrathful parson did not get his will: the affair was so ludicrous that he was compelled to consent that it should be "hushed up."

To hush up the heart-burnings of the parties, on their return to the seat of war, was, however, not so easy a matter. Above all things, did it now become a difficult task to keep peace between the rival clerks.

Pa.s.sing by the many minor occasions wherein fiery frowns and black glances were exchanged, this history, which we must abridge, through dread of being adjudged tedious, conducts us to another notable event, which became the subject of _another_ "action-at-law," at a succeeding Kirton Quarter Sessions.

The funeral of a paris.h.i.+oner was about to take place, and the friends of the deceased "particularly requested" that Clerk William Middleton, the son of Clerk Gervase,--the true "Parish Clerk,"--the old, hereditary, and established, and legitimate p.r.o.nouncer of conclusive amens,--might give the responses at this funeral. Clerk Spurr, the "Parson's Clerk,"

however, determined on contesting the point;--and--a struggle for the old folio prayer-book actually took place in the church!

Here, again, was a sight that had never been beheld, or dreamt of, before, in the parish of Stow: but as strange and indecorous a sight as it was, it was one that many a rural spectator declared he wouldn't have missed for a quart of ale!--The very mourners for the dead were compelled to hide their laughing faces with their white handkerchiefs,--for the grotesque wrestling of the rival clerks, and their looks of rage, as they together grasped and tugged at the prayer-book, put weeping out of the question. The parson had got through--"I said I will take heed to my ways,"--and wanted to begin--"Lord, thou hast been our refuge,"--but there stood the wrestlers, grasping, and pulling, and panting, and sweating,--and it was a most difficult thing to say which would be likely to beat. Many a stout farmer that shook his sides,--for the laugh became broad and general, in spite of the solemnity of the occasion,--longed to shout out, "A crown to a groat upon Middleton!"--but restrained himself. At length,--the genuine, hereditary spirit of the true "Parish Clerk"

prevailed!--he possessed the book: the "Parson's Clerk" sought a seat, to take his breath;--and Clerk William, panting, and wiping the streaming perspiration from his comely and heroic brow, proceeded to echo the "Confession" after the Perpetual Curate.

Such was the cause of the "action" brought by Spurr (at the direction, and by the ghostly advice of the Perpetual Curate) against Middleton at the succeeding sessions,--an action of "a.s.sault committed by the said Middleton upon him the said Spurr, while in the performance of duty."

The jury, on this occasion,--to make short of the narrative,--sat till eleven at night,--the Court rang with laughter for hours,--and the affair was, at last, got rid of,--by some legal resort, and Spurr (or his advisers) were saddled with costs. _That_ was a conclusion that "gravelled" Spurr, as he said, on leaving the Court; and the Perpetual Curate was also "gravelled"--though he did not use the same expression; and they each showed it, soon after their second return to the old seat of war. But another slight event must first be chronicled, ere the several succeeding and exalted doings of the "Parson's Clerk" and the Perpetual Curate are narrated.

Thomas Skill, was a skilful yeoman of good report, holding two farms in the ancient parish of Stow; and although he eschewed all heresy and dissent, and willed to wors.h.i.+p after the fas.h.i.+on of his forefathers,--who had been creditable yeomen in Stow from time immemorial,--yet liked he not of the wayward doings of his Reverence the Perpetual Curate. Now it chanced that on a certain Sunday in November that the said Skill the skilful went, as was his pious and religious wont, to pay his devotions _according to law_, in the parish church of Stow, the ancient and venerated sanctuary of his forefathers. As a holder of two farms, be it observed, this creditable yeoman had a right, by the customs of this rural district, to _two_ pews; nevertheless, being by no means a person of an unreasonable disposition, he was content, on that day, to occupy but _one_, if so be that he might be allowed to wors.h.i.+p quietly. Nevertheless, scarcely was he seated, ere a certain Jesse Ellis, an aged man of some rural rank as a master-husband-man who had been selected by the Perpetual Curate as _his_ churchwarden, came up to the pew-door, said "he was _ordered_ to pull Skill out," and, forthwith, attempted to put the "order" into execution. Did Skill the skilful resist?--Did he yield? No, no: he knew a trick worth two of either. He had not his name for nought! When Ellis laid his grasp vehemently on the pew-door, skilful Skill held it fast for a few moments, and then skilfully let it go,--all in a moment,--so that the vehement Ellis, by the vehemence of his grasp and the rebound of the pew-door, was overthrown; and there he lay,--he, the parson's own churchwarden,--on the floor of the aisle of Stow church, in the time of "divine service," with the congregation from their seats and pews, and the Perpetual Curate, from his reading-desk, and Clerk Spurr, the "Parson's Clerk," and Clerk William Middleton, the son of Clerk Gervase, squeezing one another in the desk below, and yet looking on, and all looking on, at his signal defeat and overthrow: there he "lay vanquished--confounded;"--like Milton's Satan, sprawling on the "fiery gulf," when all the fallen angels were sprawling there likewise, but yet looking on and shaking their heads at him for a rash captain--no doubt!

Then appeared Skill the skilful, and Ellis the sprawler, before a bench of "Her Majesty's Justices of the Peace for the parts of Lindsey," in the Moothall of Gainsborough; where the justices acted with sense and discernment, and dismissed the sprawler's suit, saddling him with costs.

An end might have come to this episode here; but the sprawler and his son were people of spirit, and were so much dissatisfied with this decision of the justices, that they went home muttering all the way about _law_, and declaring to every one they met, that they "would _yet have it_." And so skilful Skill thought it wise and prudent to let them "have it;" and, therefore, from mere neighbourly good humour, commenced his action, in turn, against the said Jesse Ellis for attempting to pull him out of his own pew, on the said Sunday in November, and in the parish church of Stow aforesaid. Our ma.n.u.script hath, in this place, an hiatus; so that we cannot say how the said action terminated: but it will not excite wonder that amidst the ravelled tissue of broils and litigations occasioned by the gospel-mindedness of the ill.u.s.trious successor to the Sidnacestrian prelates, some of their issues should escape complete and satisfactory chronicle.

It behoveth, moreover, that we now attend to the more lofty department of this our history of ecclesiastical revolutions,--for, as the sun transcendeth the stars, so do the acts of sacerdotal personages outs.h.i.+ne the brightest deeds of the vulgar laity.

And first, of the continued luminous acts and deeds of Clerk Spurr, the notable and notorious "Parson's Clerk," the hero of the hayfork. Let none imagine that he always warred with such a vulgar weapon of the field; forasmuch as his Reverence the Perpetual Curate, being in possession of a grand double-barrelled gun, was wont to commit and intrust it to the lawful custody of his worthy coadjutor in heroic exercises, the heroic Clerk Spurr. Neither did it redound a little to the credit of the Perpetual Curate's humanity, that he did so commit and intrust the said formidable piece of ordnance to the custody of the said Spurr;--forasmuch as the life and safety of that hero of the hayfork were discerned to be seriously in danger,--inasmuch as it had been proven how the malicious urchins of the community, partic.i.p.ating deeply in the heart-burnings of their sires and mothers, were wont often to annoy, with sundry small pebbles and other mischief-working missiles, the precious person of the said hero. Lest, therefore, these a.s.saults should issue in some bodily harm to himself, the man of nightly valour was equipped with the gun, and speedily proceeded to defend himself therewith, in the manner that shall now be described and related, together with the fruition of his new act of heroism.

The night was two hours old,--no moon, no stars,--it was deeply dark and murkily cloudy, and--but never mind all that! Anon, up cometh the troop of youngsters, whispering laughter, and saying "Hus.h.!.+" to each other, as they approach the camp of the enemy. Little thought they, as they marched along, each laden with his pocket of pebbles, of the sore discomfiture which had been planned for them by the foe! Clerk Spurr, that signal warrior of the implement with p.r.o.ngs, had planted himself, firelock on shoulder, eye full of aim, and heart full of valour, close by the usual point of attack. The besiegers halt,--and, in a moment, a shower of gravel gravelleth their enemy; but loud as was the war-cry of their tiny voices, above it rose the booming thunder of the "Parson's Clerk's" grand double-barrelled gun,--and woeful was the effect thereof!!! The shot or the wadding,--the ma.n.u.script sayeth not which--had entered,--_not_ the brains, nor, even, the hats of the juvenile a.s.sailants,--but--but--the church windows! Away scampered the youngsters,--every mother's son feeling whether his head was off or on,--and yelling, till every cottage door in the neighbourhood was thrown open, and lights were brought out in alarm! Down tumbled the old coloured gla.s.s from the ancient mullions, rattling on the tomb-stones beneath, and sounding like curses on sacrilege in the ears of the affrighted hero of the gun and the hayfork! His weapon dropped,--for he was panic-struck! The churchwardens brought a bill against him for the repair of the church-windows: he refused to pay: was brought before the Lincoln county magistrates for recovery; and the hero of the hayfork had to "fork out" seven s.h.i.+llings and sixpence for his freak! The Stow rustics grinned from ear to ear, nodded approbation of the sentence, and spread mirth and fun when they reached home with the news; but the reverend successor of the ancient episcopal potencies was sorely grieved at heart when he heard of this repet.i.tion of defeat for his chosen and chop-fallen ejaculator of amens.

As for the grand Perpetual Curate himself, his personal troubles and griefs, and the uninterrupted continuation thereof, would require volumes for full narration. Suffice it to say, ere we bring this exalted record to an end, that, in the profundity of his wisdom, he resorted to mult.i.tudinous devices of apostolical character, after the defeats at law that have been heretofore noted. During ten successive Sundays he resorted to a most novel course of Christianity, closing the service after merely reading a few of the "Sentences,"--or, in addition, a few words of the "Absolution,"--and then, leaving his flock to find their way to heaven as they might. The legitimate "Parish Clerk" would come into his desk pretty early; then would come in the "Parson's Clerk;"

and, lastly, the parson would walk into his desk, and commence reading after the following unique method:--

"When the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness that he hath committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall save his soul alive.----William Middleton! I charge you to come out of that seat, and let the clerk come in peaceably and quietly!"

The poor "Parish Clerk," meanwhile, would make no answer; but full meekly, and in the spirit of his vocation, would hold his peace. Again the parson would proceed:--

"Dearly beloved brethren, the Scripture moveth us in sundry places to----William Middleton! if you do not come out of that seat, and cease interrupting me in my duty, I shall conclude the service!"

And then would he close the book,--the poor "Parish Clerk" answering not a word,--and, walking to the communion-table, give a couple of parish alms-loaves to such as he chose to call--usually _his own_ clerk, for one,--and then,--and then,--in the spirit of Jewel and Latimer, and the rest of the tireless and devoted exemplars of his religion, would he quit the consecrated edifice, and leave the congregation to finish by themselves,--or disperse, which of course they preferred to do, after witnessing these apostolical exhibitions. One more relation of the subtle and profound devices of the immortal and Perpetual Curate, ere we come to an end.

Vexed, teased, troubled, and circ.u.mvented, as he was, it came to pa.s.s that, in the plenitude of his mortified and yet haughty reflections, the successor of purple prelates bethought him that it was not seemly for the rebellious herdsmen, ploughmen, and other rustics of low degree, wherewith he was surrounded, to walk daily over the "consecrated ground"

of the churchyard, in the ancient footpath. The more he thought of it the more he shuddered at it; that a number of rude rebels, with their heretical and sacrilegious feet, should tread daily on ground which had been "consecrated" in the hallowed mists of dateless antiquity, by mitred magnates, before whose uplifted crosier kings had lowered their sceptres, and mailed barons trembled and turned pale. It was not to be permitted: the magnanimous Perpetual Curate resolved to root out such impious sacrilege from the face of the earth; and immediately fastened up the gates of the said ancient footpath with strong locks and chains; yea, planted goodly young trees in the line of road hitherto trodden by unworthy and rebellious rustics. Nay, more, conceiving that even the remembrance of every grandmother and great-grandfather of such a stiff-necked generation should be obliterated, his high-minded Reverence gave order that all the hillocks over the graves should be laid low, and the whole churchyard be levelled!

But now the grand priest had reached a climax, in the judgment of his paris.h.i.+oners; and now arose the mighty wrath of the people,--that barrier which hath so often stood before proud priests,--yea, and will so stand again,--seeming to bear on its front, "Thus far shall ye go, and no further, and here shall your proud wills be stayed!" A paris.h.i.+oner, whose purse was lined with a store of guineas to back his resolution, avowed that the Perpetual Curate, if he caused to be touched a single clod that covered the ashes of his, the paris.h.i.+oner's, forefathers, should have his clerical cup sweetened with all the sugar that could be purchased for him in a court of law; and, lo! the successor of the prelates of Sidnacester rescinded his "order" for levelling the quiet graves of the dead!

Nor long did the other late devices of his canonical wisdom stand. The urchins of the parish contrived to slip slily over the churchyard wall, and to break down the newly-planted trees; and, at length, one paris.h.i.+oner, having conversed with Sir John Barleycorn at Gainsborough market, and being strongly advised by that notable counsellor of courage to set the proud parson at nought, and "break his bonds asunder," rushed to the churchyard gates, as soon as he arrived at his native village, and smiting at locks and chains, as if he had been Samson before Gaza, burst his way valiantly through,--and, thereafter, did the sacrilegious feet of every rebel rustic again press the path of their forefathers, without let or impediment! Such are the sovereign achievements of the magisterial "people," when engaged in the a.s.sertion of their time-hallowed "rights!" What are the acts of emperors compared therewith?

And now come we to the final "action" in this concaten_ation_ of litig_ation_, one that gave constern_ation_ to the poor "parish clerk,"

be it understood. We have spoken of the "actions" at the first Kirton Sessions; namely, the Perpetual Curate _versus_ the Female Ambuscaders, and the Perpetual Curate _versus_ the Cudgellers in the dark: then spoke we of the "action" at the next sessions, Clerk Spurr, the Parson's Clerk, _v._ Clerk William Middleton, the son of Clerk Gervase, the Parish Clerk: then of the _pet.i.t_ "action" before the Gainsborough Justices--Ellis _v._ Skill: then of the greater "action" at a.s.size--Skill _v._ Ellis: then of the "action" before the Lincoln magistrates for recovery of value for broken church-windows--the Churchwardens of Stow _v._ the Parson's Clerk: lastly, of the _threatened_ action by the paris.h.i.+oner of the long purse, which the Perpetual Curate avoided by rescinding his presumptuous "order" for levelling the graves:--but now come we to the final "action"--the action of actions: that to which all the rest formed but a petty preface: that wherein the Perpetual Curate departing from all by-ways of attack, undisguisedly a.s.sumed a position of legal and spiritual antagonism against the foe whom he esteemed as the chief author of his ills, the disturber of his projected schemes, that would, so many months before, have issued in subjugating the rebels, and consuming heresy in his parish,--against the old, hereditary, gentle, moral, upright parish clerk, Clerk William Middleton, the son of Clerk Gervase.

And _where_ was the action commenced?--Before the county magistrates,--or at sessions,--or at a.s.size? Pooh! nonsense!--that was not the way to finish Middleton's business as the parson intended to finish it. Where then? In the Queen's Bench, or the Common Pleas, or the Exchequer? No. What then, in the Vice Chancellor's Court, or the Court of Chancery itself? Not one of 'em, sir; but in a more awful court than any of 'em, or all of 'em put together: in the SPIRITUAL COURT, sir!

What aged dame in Lindsey had not heard of the Spiritual Court? Why the mere sound of the word served to fill her with mysterious awe, and to call up in her memory all the fireside stories of her grandmothers: how such awful "penances" were inflicted by this court, on erring females, in _their_ days,--when the dread power of the priesthood was displayed in punis.h.i.+ng the subjects of that natural frailty called "scandal," by compelling them to walk up the church aisle covered with a white sheet, and bearing a wax taper in their hand! With such a.s.sociations derived from his grandmother, only conceive how awfully queer poor, moral, gentle, religious, upright Clerk William felt when he received the mysterious "writ," issued against him by this mysterious court.

"Schollard," as he was, it was so strange a thing to look upon, that he instantly sent for the parish schoolmaster, who, with spectacles on nose, and frequent spelling and some mispelling, read aloud--to a house full of consternated neighbours,--Clerk William turning pale as he heard the beginning,--

"IN THE NAME OF G.o.d, AMEN!

"We, John Haggard, Doctor in Civil and Canon Law, Vicar-General in spirituals of the Right Reverend Father in G.o.d, John, by Divine Permission, Lord Bishop of Lincoln, and official Princ.i.p.al of the Episcopal and Consistorial Court of Lincoln, lawfully const.i.tuted,--to you William Middleton, of the parish of Stow, &c.

&c., touching and concerning your soul's health, and the lawful correction and reformation of your manners and excesses, and more especially for profaning the parish church of Stow aforesaid, by brawling, quarrelling, or chiding in the said parish church during the celebration of divine service therein by the Rev. ----, perpetual curate, &c. &c., and also for contumacious behaviour, and refusing to obey the lawful commands of the said----," &c. &c.

And then followed a pompous quotation from a statute of Edward the Sixth, showing that a clergyman had power to prohibit a contumacious member of his flock _ab ingressu ecclesiae_,--that is to say, from entering the church: in other words, to excommunicate him! Furthermore, an act of the 53d George III. was quoted, declaring that "Persons who may be p.r.o.nounced or declared to be excommunicate by any ecclesiastical court _in definitive sentences_, or _in interlocutory decrees_, having the force and effect of definitive sentences, as spiritual censures for offences of ecclesiastical cognisance, shall incur imprisonment not exceeding six months, as the court p.r.o.nouncing or decreeing such person excommunicate shall direct."

That was a sore shake for poor Clerk William! Excommunicated! Why, the thought of such a fate to one who had been brought up in a veneration of the church, whose father was a clerk, and thought himself as fully consecrated as a bishop!--it was no joke to such a one to hear there was a chance of his being excommunicated. Yet he would not "give it up!"

No, that he wouldn't: his father had said, "n.o.body could turn the parish clerk out of his office so long as he had morality on his side: his office was his freehold:" so his father, Clerk Gervase, of pious memory, had said; and he, Clerk William, would abide by it. So he took the desk on the following Sunday, and kept up the war as usual. Yet he often pondered on "definitive sentences" and "interlocutory decrees,"--when he had learnt the words by heart,--wondering what kind of awful things they were.

The effect of issuing this writ, however, so completely astounded the paris.h.i.+oners that they thenceforth only whispered where they had shouted, and were silent where they had whispered, in all matters relating to the parson: true, whenever a paper for convening any particular parochial meeting was attached to the church door, bearing the usual signature of ---- ----, Inc.u.mbent Minister, some wag would be sure to scratch out one of the words, so as to make it read "Inc.u.mbrance" Minister, instead: but beyond that there was, now, no further daring.

And, at last, the summons came, and no less than a score of witnesses were taken to the Consistory in Lincoln Cathedral, to be sworn that they would give evidence on the case. And week by week--week by week--the prosing "examinations" were proceeded with, on a certain day of the week, until _a thousand folios_ of "examination" were counted; and when a paris.h.i.+oner asked how much he must pay for a copy of the depositions for Clerk William, the reckoning was made by the "registrar" of the court, at the usual sum per folio--and he was told it would merely be such a trifle as _five-and-twenty pounds_! And then the calculations, and the wonders, and wishes that were expressed, night by night, and day by day, in every cottage at Stow,--nay, in all the villages round, and the wagers that were laid in every village ale-house on a Sat.u.r.day night, what would be the cost of the whole trial, and how long Clerk William would be imprisoned, and _where_ they would imprison him,--for n.o.body was so slow of heart or understanding, as not to know beforehand that the "Vicar-General in Spirituals" would give judgment _against_ the poor "parish clerk," as a matter of course, whenever the trial should come to an end.

And _did_ the trial ever come to an end? and _was_ Clerk William Middleton, the son of Clerk Gervase, really excommunicated? "By no manner of means, sir," as the pompous fellow says in the play: the grand suit, after causing so tremendous a qua.s.sation, and all that, of a considerable quarter of Lindsey, was--given up! Yes, it was: and more than that, the true "parish clerk," Clerk William, was reinstated, fully and entirely, in his rightful office. Ay to this day,--unless our information misleads us,--he exercises the same without losing an inch of his height, or a fragment of his independent spirit; for it is but a few months bygone since he showed it. The grand Perpetual Curate, according to his wont, took upon him to reprehend, at the very grave-side, a Wesleyan, whose child, then being interred, had been baptized by a Wesleyan preacher: Clerk William, right bluntly, told the priest that the Wesleyan had a right to please himself! "Why, as for you, you will say or do any thing," retorted the priest, "if they'll pay you for it!"--"And would you be standing there in that gown, with that book in your hand, unless _you_ were paid for it?" asked and answered Clerk William. The grand Perpetual Curate bit his lip, and walked away!

Reader, we have been relating _facts_: perhaps, in adopting the style of half-rhodomontade, we have not displayed very good taste; but the narrative itself contains uncontradictable _facts_. And these did not occur in a district disturbed by chartism, nor revolutionised by radicalism, or anti-corn-law agitation; but in the old-fas.h.i.+oned, rural centre of Lindsey: it is even there where the "spiritual court" shrinks from employing the foolery of its own worn-out terrors; and where the peasant adventures to beard the priest! Are not these "Signs of the Times?"

DAME DEBORAH THRUMPKINSON,

AND HER ORPHAN APPRENTICE, JOE.

Joe's story opens in that uncla.s.sical region, the Isle of Axholme,--a section of Lincolns.h.i.+re divided from the main body of the county by the broad and far extending stream of the Trent. Insular situations are invariably held to give some peculiarity of manners to their inhabitants; and the Axholmians, or "Men of the Isle," have always been reckoned to be an odd sort of, plain kind of people, by the other inhabitants of Lindsey, the great northern division of the s.h.i.+re, of which the Isle is accounted a part. This was more emphatically true of them seventy years ago; and the face of the country was, at that time, much in keeping with the unpolished character of the Axholmian people. A journey through the Isle, in the autumnal and winter months especially, would then have been studiously avoided by a traveller acquainted with its excessively bad roads, rendered insufferably disagreeable by the stench of the sodden "line" or flax, with which the broad ditches on each side of the rural ways were filled. Low, thatched abodes, built of "stud and mud,"--or wood and clay, were the prevailing description of human dwellings scattered over the land; and swine were the animals most commonly kept and fattened by the farmers and peasantry.

The two considerable villages of Owston and Crowle (p.r.o.nounced _Crool_ by the euphonious Axholmians), together with the town of Epworth, the modern capital of the Isle, were the only localities in Axholme to which improvements, common in the rest of the s.h.i.+re, had then penetrated.

Haxey, the ancient capital of the district, meanwhile, remained unvisited by the spirit of modern change, and drew its only distinction from the historic a.s.sociations connected with its decay. In remote times, and under its Saxon appellation of "Axel," the town had been fortified with a castle of the Mowbrays, to a chief of which chivalrous race the greater part of "the Isle of Axelholm" was given as a manor, by the Norman conqueror. And, amid the straggling and irregular a.s.semblage of buildings which now form the village, an intelligent visitor would discover indubitable evidence of the former importance of the place. Its large church, displaying the rich architecture prevalent during the wars of the Roses, and supporting a lofty tower resonant at stated hours with chimes of loud and pleasing music, looks from an eminence, almost in cathedral state, over the greater extent of the Isle; and a few ample and curiously built houses of some centuries old,--affording a striking contrast to the paltry erections of the day,--denote the ancient denizens of Haxey to have been the princ.i.p.al possessors of comparative wealth, and, it may be added, of the soil in the neighbourhood.

On a fine summer's evening, at the door of one of these large antiquated houses, sat Dame Deborah Thrumpkinson, the aged widow of Barachiah Thrumpkinson, cordwainer, deceased. Her husband, who had been long dead, was a thrifty man at his trade, and had, by habits of strict industry and parsimony,--holpen therein by the like disposition of his beloved Deborah,--contrived to store a good corner of his double-locked oaken chest with spade-ace guineas. Deborah had acquired sufficient skill in the "art and mystery" of her husband's employment to be able to carry on his trade after his death; and, with the a.s.sistance of two stout apprentices, and as many journeymen, was, at the season in which our narrative begins, conducting the best business in that line within a circuit of several miles.

We have hinted that Dame Deborah began to be stricken in years: nevertheless, the labours of "the gentle craft" gave little fatigue to her elastic mind and strong sinewy frame; and as she sat in the old-fas.h.i.+oned oaken chair, enjoying rest, and inhaling the soft breeze, after a day of healthful toil, she neither stooped through infirmity, nor experienced dimness of vision, though sixty winters had gone over her head. The short pipe in her mouth proved that she had discovered an effectual, though unfeminine, solace for a weary frame; and although, through the flitting volumes of smoke, you saw that their frequent visitings had left on the dame's cheek a deeper shade than years only would have imprinted there,--yet, a nearer gaze would have convinced you that, in youth, no contemptible degree of comeliness had been commingled with her strength. With the calmness derived from experienced age, and from a consciousness of honest independence,--thus, then, sat the grave Deborah, receiving, now and then, a mark of respect from the slow, worn labourers of either s.e.x, as they pa.s.sed homeward, with fork or rake on shoulder, from the hay-field.

The dame had just knocked the ashes out of the head of her pipe, and was about to retire within her dwelling for the night, when her attention was strongly attracted by the conversation of a group which was suddenly formed but a few yards from her threshold. A pale, melancholy-looking woman, with a very little boy clinging to her blue linen ap.r.o.n, was met by a master chimney-sweep, followed by a couple of wretched-looking urchins bowed beneath enormous bags of soot.

"Well, mistress," said the man, in a voice so harsh that it grated sorely on the ears of Dame Deborah, who would have been offended with the words of the speaker, even if they had been uttered in the softest accents, "you may as well take the fasten-penny I offered you the other day, and let me have this lad o' yours."