Kenilworth Page 12

  CHAPTER XI.

  I say, my lord, can such a subtilty (But all his craft ye must not wot of me, And somewhat help I yet to his working), That all the ground on which we ben riding, Till that we come to Canterbury town, He can all clean turnen so up so down, And pave it all of silver and of gold. --THE CANON'S YEOMAN'S PROLOGUE, CANTERBURY TALES.

  THE artist commenced his narrative in the following terms:--

  "I was bred a blacksmith, and knew my art as well as e'er ablack-thumbed, leathern-aproned, swart-faced knave of that noblemystery. But I tired of ringing hammer-tunes on iron stithies, and wentout into the world, where I became acquainted with a celebrated juggler,whose fingers had become rather too stiff for legerdemain, and whowished to have the aid of an apprentice in his noble mystery. I servedhim for six years, until I was master of my trade--I refer myself toyour worship, whose judgment cannot be disputed, whether I did not learnto ply the craft indifferently well?"

  "Excellently," said Tressilian; "but be brief."

  "It was not long after I had performed at Sir Hugh Robsart's, in yourworship's presence," said the artist, "that I took myself to the stage,and have swaggered with the bravest of them all, both at the Black Bull,the Globe, the Fortune, and elsewhere; but I know not how--apples wereso plenty that year that the lads in the twopenny gallery never tookmore than one bite out of them, and threw the rest of the pippin atwhatever actor chanced to be on the stage. So I tired of it--renouncedmy half share in the company, gave my foil to my comrade, my buskins tothe wardrobe, and showed the theatre a clean pair of heels."

  "Well, friend, and what," said Tressilian, "was your next shift?"

  "I became," said the smith, "half partner, half domestic to a manof much skill and little substance, who practised the trade of aphysicianer."

  "In other words," said Tressilian, "you were Jack Pudding to aquacksalver."

  "Something beyond that, let me hope, my good Master Tressilian," repliedthe artist; "and yet to say truth, our practice was of an adventurousdescription, and the pharmacy which I had acquired in my first studiesfor the benefit of horses was frequently applied to our human patients.But the seeds of all maladies are the same; and if turpentine, tar,pitch, and beef-suet, mingled with turmerick, gum-mastick, and one beadof garlick, can cure the horse that hath been grieved with a nail, I seenot but what it may benefit the man that hath been pricked with a sword.But my master's practice, as well as his skill, went far beyondmine, and dealt in more dangerous concerns. He was not only a bold,adventurous practitioner in physic, but also, if your pleasure sochanced to be, an adept who read the stars, and expounded the fortunesof mankind, genethliacally, as he called it, or otherwise. He was alearned distiller of simples, and a profound chemist--made severalefforts to fix mercury, and judged himself to have made a fair hit atthe philosopher's stone. I have yet a programme of his on that subject,which, if your honour understandeth, I believe you have the better, notonly of all who read, but also of him who wrote it."

  He gave Tressilian a scroll of parchment, bearing at top and bottom, anddown the margin, the signs of the seven planets, curiously intermingledwith talismanical characters and scraps of Greek and Hebrew. In themidst were some Latin verses from a cabalistical author, written out sofairly, that even the gloom of the place did not prevent Tressilian fromreading them. The tenor of the original ran as follows:--

  "Si fixum solvas, faciasque volare solutum, Et volucrem figas, facient te vivere tutum; Si pariat ventum, valet auri pondere centum; Ventus ubi vult spirat--Capiat qui capere potest."

  "I protest to you," said Tressilian, "all I understand of this jargon isthat the last words seem to mean 'Catch who catch can.'"

  "That," said the smith, "is the very principle that my worthy friend andmaster, Doctor Doboobie, always acted upon; until, being besotted withhis own imaginations, and conceited of his high chemical skill, hebegan to spend, in cheating himself, the money which he had acquiredin cheating others, and either discovered or built for himself, I couldnever know which, this secret elaboratory, in which he used to secludehimself both from patients and disciples, who doubtless thought hislong and mysterious absences from his ordinary residence in the town ofFarringdon were occasioned by his progress in the mystic sciences, andhis intercourse with the invisible world. Me also he tried to deceive;but though I contradicted him not, he saw that I knew too much of hissecrets to be any longer a safe companion. Meanwhile, his name waxedfamous--or rather infamous, and many of those who resorted to him did sounder persuasion that he was a sorcerer. And yet his supposed advance inthe occult sciences drew to him the secret resort of men too powerfulto be named, for purposes too dangerous to be mentioned. Men cursedand threatened him, and bestowed on me, the innocent assistant of hisstudies, the nickname of the Devil's foot-post, which procured me avolley of stones as soon as ever I ventured to show my face in thestreet of the village. At length my master suddenly disappeared,pretending to me that he was about to visit his elaboratory in thisplace, and forbidding me to disturb him till two days were past. Whenthis period had elapsed, I became anxious, and resorted to this vault,where I found the fires extinguished and the utensils in confusion,with a note from the learned Doboobius, as he was wont to style himself,acquainting me that we should never meet again, bequeathing me hischemical apparatus, and the parchment which I have just put into yourhands, advising me strongly to prosecute the secret which itcontained, which would infallibly lead me to the discovery of the grandmagisterium."

  "And didst thou follow this sage advice?" said Tressilian.

  "Worshipful sir, no," replied the smith; "for, being by nature cautious,and suspicious from knowing with whom I had to do, I made so manyperquisitions before I ventured even to light a fire, that I at lengthdiscovered a small barrel of gunpowder, carefully hid beneath thefurnace, with the purpose, no doubt, that as soon as I should commencethe grand work of the transmutation of metals, the explosion shouldtransmute the vault and all in it into a heap of ruins, which mightserve at once for my slaughter-house and my grave. This cured me ofalchemy, and fain would I have returned to the honest hammer and anvil;but who would bring a horse to be shod by the Devil's post? Meantime, Ihad won the regard of my honest Flibbertigibbet here, he being then atFarringdon with his master, the sage Erasmus Holiday, by teaching hima few secrets, such as please youth at his age; and after much counseltogether, we agreed that, since I could get no practice in the ordinaryway, I should try how I could work out business among theseignorant boors, by practising upon their silly fears; and, thanks toFlibbertigibbet, who hath spread my renown, I have not wanted custom.But it is won at too great risk, and I fear I shall be at length takenup for a wizard; so that I seek but an opportunity to leave this vault,when I can have the protection of some worshipful person against thefury of the populace, in case they chance to recognize me."

  "And art thou," said Tressilian, "perfectly acquainted with the roads inthis country?"

  "I could ride them every inch by midnight," answered Wayland Smith,which was the name this adept had assumed.

  "Thou hast no horse to ride upon," said Tressilian.

  "Pardon me," replied Wayland; "I have as good a tit as ever yeomanbestrode; and I forgot to say it was the best part of the mediciner'slegacy to me, excepting one or two of the choicest of his medicalsecrets, which I picked up without his knowledge and against his will."

  "Get thyself washed and shaved, then," said Tressilian; "reform thydress as well as thou canst, and fling away these grotesque trappings;and, so thou wilt be secret and faithful, thou shalt follow me for ashort time, till thy pranks here are forgotten. Thou hast, I think, bothaddress and courage, and I have matter to do that may require both."

  Wayland Smith eagerly embraced the proposal, and protested his devotionto his new master. In a very few minutes he had made so great analteration in his original appearance, by change of dress, trimming hisbeard and hair, and so forth, that Tressilian could not help remarkingthat he tho
ught he would stand in little need of a protector, since noneof his old acquaintance were likely to recognize him.

  "My debtors would not pay me money," said Wayland, shaking his head;"but my creditors of every kind would be less easily blinded. And,in truth, I hold myself not safe, unless under the protection of agentleman of birth and character, as is your worship."

  So saying, he led the way out of the cavern. He then called loudly forHobgoblin, who, after lingering for an instant, appeared with the horsefurniture, when Wayland closed and sedulously covered up the trap-door,observing it might again serve him at his need, besides that the toolswere worth somewhat. A whistle from the owner brought to his side a nagthat fed quietly on the common, and was accustomed to the signal.

  While he accoutred him for the journey, Tressilian drew his own girthstighter, and in a few minutes both were ready to mount.

  At this moment Sludge approached to bid them farewell.

  "You are going to leave me, then, my old playfellow," said the boy; "andthere is an end of all our game at bo-peep with the cowardly lubbardswhom I brought hither to have their broad-footed nags shed by the deviland his imps?"

  "It is even so," said Wayland Smith, "the best friends must part,Flibbertigibbet; but thou, my boy, art the only thing in the Vale ofWhitehorse which I shall regret to leave behind me."

  "Well, I bid thee not farewell," said Dickie Sludge, "for you will beat these revels, I judge, and so shall I; for if Dominie Holiday take menot thither, by the light of day, which we see not in yonder dark hole,I will take myself there!"

  "In good time," said Wayland; "but I pray you to do nought rashly."

  "Nay, now you would make a child, a common child of me, and tell me ofthe risk of walking without leading-strings. But before you are a milefrom these stones, you shall know by a sure token that I have more ofthe hobgoblin about me than you credit; and I will so manage that, ifyou take advantage, you may profit by my prank."

  "What dost thou mean, boy?" said Tressilian; but Flibbertigibbet onlyanswered with a grin and a caper, and bidding both of them farewell,and, at the same time, exhorting them to make the best of their way fromthe place, he set them the example by running homeward with the sameuncommon velocity with which he had baffled Tressilian's former attemptsto get hold of him.

  "It is in vain to chase him," said Wayland Smith; "for unless yourworship is expert in lark-hunting, we should never catch hold ofhim--and besides, what would it avail? Better make the best of our wayhence, as he advises."

  They mounted their horses accordingly, and began to proceed at a roundpace, as soon as Tressilian had explained to his guide the direction inwhich he desired to travel.

  After they had trotted nearly a mile, Tressilian could not helpobserving to his companion that his horse felt more lively under himthan even when he mounted in the morning.

  "Are you avised of that?" said Wayland Smith, smiling. "That is owingto a little secret of mine. I mixed that with an handful of oats whichshall save your worship's heels the trouble of spurring these six hoursat least. Nay, I have not studied medicine and pharmacy for nought."

  "I trust," said Tressilian, "your drugs will do my horse no harm?"

  "No more than the mare's milk; which foaled him," answered the artist,and was proceeding to dilate on the excellence of his recipe when hewas interrupted by an explosion as loud and tremendous as the mine whichblows up the rampart of a beleaguered city. The horses started, and theriders were equally surprised. They turned to gaze in the direction fromwhich the thunder-clap was heard, and beheld, just over the spot theyhad left so recently, a huge pillar of dark smoke rising high into theclear, blue atmosphere. "My habitation is gone to wreck," said Wayland,immediately conjecturing the cause of the explosion. "I was a fool tomention the doctor's kind intentions towards my mansion before that limbof mischief, Flibbertigibbet; I might have guessed he would long to putso rare a frolic into execution. But let us hasten on, for the soundwill collect the country to the spot."

  So saying, he spurred his horse, and Tressilian also quickening hisspeed, they rode briskly forward.

  "This, then, was the meaning of the little imp's token which he promisedus?" said Tressilian. "Had we lingered near the spot, we had found it alove-token with a vengeance."

  "He would have given us warning," said the smith. "I saw him look backmore than once to see if we were off--'tis a very devil for mischief,yet not an ill-natured devil either. It were long to tell your honourhow I became first acquainted with him, and how many tricks he playedme. Many a good turn he did me too, especially in bringing me customers;for his great delight was to see them sit shivering behind the busheswhen they heard the click of my hammer. I think Dame Nature, when shelodged a double quantity of brains in that misshapen head of his, gavehim the power of enjoying other people's distresses, as she gave themthe pleasure of laughing at his ugliness."

  "It may be so," said Tressilian; "those who find themselves severed fromsociety by peculiarities of form, if they do not hate the common bulk ofmankind, are at least not altogether indisposed to enjoy their mishapsand calamities."

  "But Flibbertigibbet," answered Wayland, "hath that about him whichmay redeem his turn for mischievous frolic; for he is as faithful whenattached as he is tricky and malignant to strangers, and, as I saidbefore, I have cause to say so."

  Tressilian pursued the conversation no further, and they continuedtheir journey towards Devonshire without further adventure, until theyalighted at an inn in the town of Marlborough, since celebrated forhaving given title to the greatest general (excepting one) whom Britainever produced. Here the travellers received, in the same breath, anexample of the truth of two old proverbs--namely, that ILL NEWS FLYFAST, and that LISTENERS SELDOM HEAR A GOOD TALE OF THEMSELVES.

  The inn-yard was in a sort of combustion when they alighted; insomuch,that they could scarce get man or boy to take care of their horses, sofull were the whole household of some news which flew from tongue totongue, the import of which they were for some time unable to discover.At length, indeed, they found it respected matters which touched themnearly.

  "What is the matter, say you, master?" answered, at length, the headhostler, in reply to Tressilian's repeated questions.--"Why, truly,I scarce know myself. But here was a rider but now, who says that thedevil hath flown away with him they called Wayland Smith, that won'dabout three miles from the Whitehorse of Berkshire, this very blessedmorning, in a flash of fire and a pillar of smoke, and rooted up theplace he dwelt in, near that old cockpit of upright stones, as cleanlyas if it had all been delved up for a cropping."

  "Why, then," said an old farmer, "the more is the pity; for that WaylandSmith (whether he was the devil's crony or no I skill not) had a goodnotion of horses' diseases, and it's to be thought the bots will spreadin the country far and near, an Satan has not gien un time to leave hissecret behind un."

  "You may say that, Gaffer Grimesby," said the hostler in return; "I havecarried a horse to Wayland Smith myself, for he passed all farriers inthis country."

  "Did you see him?" said Dame Alison Crane, mistress of the innbearing that sign, and deigning to term HUSBAND the owner thereof, amean-looking hop-o'-my-thumb sort or person, whose halting gait, andlong neck, and meddling, henpecked insignificance are supposed to havegiven origin to the celebrated old English tune of "My name hath a lametame Crane."

  On this occasion he chirped out a repetition of his wife's question,"Didst see the devil, Jack Hostler, I say?"

  "And what if I did see un, Master Crane?" replied Jack Hostler, for,like all the rest of the household, he paid as little respect to hismaster as his mistress herself did.

  "Nay, nought, Jack Hostler," replied the pacific Master Crane; "only ifyou saw the devil, methinks I would like to know what un's like?"

  "You will know that one day, Master Crane," said his helpmate, "an yemend not your manners, and mind your business, leaving off such idlepalabras.--But truly, Jack Hostler, I should be glad to know myself whatlike the fellow was." />
  "Why, dame," said the hostler, more respectfully, "as for what he waslike I cannot tell, nor no man else, for why I never saw un."

  "And how didst thou get thine errand done," said Gaffer Grimesby, "ifthou seedst him not?"

  "Why, I had schoolmaster to write down ailment o' nag," said JackHostler; "and I went wi' the ugliest slip of a boy for my guide as everman cut out o' lime-tree root to please a child withal."

  "And what was it?--and did it cure your nag, Jack Hostler?" was utteredand echoed by all who stood around.

  "Why, how can I tell you what it was?" said the hostler; "simply itsmelled and tasted--for I did make bold to put a pea's substance intomy mouth--like hartshorn and savin mixed with vinegar; but then nohartshorn and savin ever wrought so speedy a cure. And I am dreadingthat if Wayland Smith be gone, the bots will have more power over horseand cattle."

  The pride of art, which is certainly not inferior in its influence toany other pride whatever, here so far operated on Wayland Smith, that,notwithstanding the obvious danger of his being recognized, he could nothelp winking to Tressilian, and smiling mysteriously, as if triumphingin the undoubted evidence of his veterinary skill. In the meanwhile, thediscourse continued.

  "E'en let it be so," said a grave man in black, the companion of GafferGrimesby; "e'en let us perish under the evil God sends us, rather thanthe devil be our doctor."

  "Very true," said Dame Crane; "and I marvel at Jack Hostler that hewould peril his own soul to cure the bowels of a nag."

  "Very true, mistress," said Jack Hostler, "but the nag was my master's;and had it been yours, I think ye would ha' held me cheap enow an I hadfeared the devil when the poor beast was in such a taking. For the rest,let the clergy look to it. Every man to his craft, says the proverb--theparson to the prayer-book, and the groom to his curry-comb.

  "I vow," said Dame Crane, "I think Jack Hostler speaks like a goodChristian and a faithful servant, who will spare neither body nor soulin his master's service. However, the devil has lifted him in time, fora Constable of the Hundred came hither this morning to get old GafferPinniewinks, the trier of witches, to go with him to the Vale ofWhitehorse to comprehend Wayland Smith, and put him to his probation. Ihelped Pinniewinks to sharpen his pincers and his poking-awl, and I sawthe warrant from Justice Blindas."

  "Pooh--pooh--the devil would laugh both at Blindas and his warrant,constable and witch-finder to boot," said old Dame Crank, the Papistlaundress; "Wayland Smith's flesh would mind Pinniewinks' awl nomore than a cambric ruff minds a hot piccadilloe-needle. But tell me,gentlefolks, if the devil ever had such a hand among ye, as to snatchaway your smiths and your artists from under your nose, when the goodAbbots of Abingdon had their own? By Our Lady, no!--they had theirhallowed tapers; and their holy water, and their relics, and what not,could send the foulest fiends a-packing. Go ask a heretic parson to dothe like. But ours were a comfortable people."

  "Very true, Dame Crank," said the hostler; "so said Simpkins ofSimonburn when the curate kissed his wife,--'They are a comfortablepeople,' said he."

  "Silence, thou foul-mouthed vermin," said Dame Crank; "is it fit fora heretic horse-boy like thee to handle such a text as the Catholicclergy?"

  "In troth no, dame," replied the man of oats; "and as you yourself arenow no text for their handling, dame, whatever may have been the case inyour day, I think we had e'en better leave un alone."

  At this last exchange of sarcasm, Dame Crank set up her throat, andbegan a horrible exclamation against Jack Hostler, under cover of whichTressilian and his attendant escaped into the house.

  They had no sooner entered a private chamber, to which Goodman Cranehimself had condescended to usher them, and dispatched their worthy andobsequious host on the errand of procuring wine and refreshment, thanWayland Smith began to give vent to his self-importance.

  "You see, sir," said he, addressing Tressilian, "that I nothing fabledin asserting that I possessed fully the mighty mystery of a farrier, ormareschal, as the French more honourably term us. These dog-hostlers,who, after all, are the better judges in such a case, know what creditthey should attach to my medicaments. I call you to witness, worshipfulMaster Tressilian, that nought, save the voice of calumny and the handof malicious violence, hath driven me forth from a station in which Iheld a place alike useful and honoured."

  "I bear witness, my friend, but will reserve my listening," answeredTressilian, "for a safer time; unless, indeed, you deem it essentialto your reputation to be translated, like your late dwelling, by theassistance of a flash of fire. For you see your best friends reckon youno better than a mere sorcerer."

  "Now, Heaven forgive them," said the artist, "who confounded learnedskill with unlawful magic! I trust a man may be as skilful, or more so,than the best chirurgeon ever meddled with horse-flesh, and yet may beupon the matter little more than other ordinary men, or at the worst noconjurer."

  "God forbid else!" said Tressilian. "But be silent just for the present,since here comes mine host with an assistant, who seems something of theleast."

  Everybody about the inn, Dame Crane herself included, had been indeedso interested and agitated by the story they had heard of Wayland Smith,and by the new, varying, and more marvellous editions of the incidentwhich arrived from various quarters, that mine host, in his righteousdetermination to accommodate his guests, had been able to obtain theassistance of none of his household, saving that of a little boy, ajunior tapster, of about twelve years old, who was called Sampson.

  "I wish," he said, apologizing to his guests, as he set down a flagonof sack, and promised some food immediately--"I wish the devil had flownaway with my wife and my whole family instead of this Wayland Smith,who, I daresay, after all said and done, was much less worthy of thedistinction which Satan has done him."

  "I hold opinion with you, good fellow," replied Wayland Smith; "and Iwill drink to you upon that argument."

  "Not that I would justify any man who deals with the devil," said minehost, after having pledged Wayland in a rousing draught of sack, "butthat--saw ye ever better sack, my masters?--but that, I say, a man hadbetter deal with a dozen cheats and scoundrel fellows, such as thisWayland Smith, than with a devil incarnate, that takes possession ofhouse and home, bed and board."

  The poor fellow's detail of grievances was here interrupted by theshrill voice of his helpmate, screaming from the kitchen, to which heinstantly hobbled, craving pardon of his guests. He was no sooner gonethan Wayland Smith expressed, by every contemptuous epithet in thelanguage, his utter scorn for a nincompoop who stuck his head underhis wife's apron-string; and intimated that, saving for the sake ofthe horses, which required both rest and food, he would advise hisworshipful Master Tressilian to push on a stage farther, rather than paya reckoning to such a mean-spirited, crow-trodden, henpecked coxcomb, asGaffer Crane.

  The arrival of a large dish of good cow-heel and bacon something soothedthe asperity of the artist, which wholly vanished before a choice capon,so delicately roasted that the lard frothed on it, said Wayland, likeMay-dew on a lily; and both Gaffer Crane and his good dame became, inhis eyes, very painstaking, accommodating, obliging persons.

  According to the manners of the times, the master and his attendantsat at the same table, and the latter observed, with regret, how littleattention Tressilian paid to his meal. He recollected, indeed, the painhe had given by mentioning the maiden in whose company he had first seenhim; but, fearful of touching upon a topic too tender to be tamperedwith, he chose to ascribe his abstinence to another cause.

  "This fare is perhaps too coarse for your worship," said Wayland, as thelimbs of the capon disappeared before his own exertions; "but had youdwelt as long as I have done in yonder dungeon, which Flibbertigibbethas translated to the upper element, a place where I dared hardly broilmy food, lest the smoke should be seen without, you would think a faircapon a more welcome dainty."

  "If you are pleased, friend," said Tressilian, "it is well.Nevertheless, hasten thy meal if thou canst, For this place is
unfriendly to thy safety, and my concerns crave travelling."

  Allowing, therefore, their horses no more rest than was absolutelynecessary for them, they pursued their journey by a forced march as faras Bradford, where they reposed themselves for the night.

  The next morning found them early travellers. And, not to fatigue thereader with unnecessary particulars, they traversed without adventurethe counties of Wiltshire and Somerset, and about noon of the third dayafter Tressilian's leaving Cumnor, arrived at Sir Hugh Robsart's seat,called Lidcote Hall, on the frontiers of Devonshire.