CHAPTER VII
WHERE MASTER HUCKABACK THROVE[10]
The stage from Bampton to Dulverton was not easy for John Ridd and his serving-man, nor is it easy for us. From the very heart of the town is a toilsome ascent to High Cross, fitly so named, and reputed to be haunted. Chains have been heard to rattle there, and the enemy of mankind is alleged to have a predilection for the spot. On this subject an old Bamptonian once told me an amusing story. In the days when the “bone-shaker” wooden bicycle was a novelty, and the Barretts (relations of Mrs Barrett Browning) resided at Combehead, someone belonging to the house was riding down the hill in the twilight on his machine, which was rattling and creaking to a merry tune. Half-way down he encountered a labourer, who, never having seen or heard of anything of the kind, and totally at a loss to account for the phenomenon in the “dimpse,” as he would have called it, incontinently jumped to the conclusion that the strange shape advancing towards him was that of Apollyon, and, in abject terror, turned and fled.
Whatever the explanation may be—whether it is the beetling trees or the unfrequentedness—there is no doubt, as is proved by the universal testimony of those who have used the road, especially by night, that it differs from most roads in being distinctly uncanny.
Combehead is the property of the lord of the manor (Mr W. H. White), and the manor is, roughly speaking, the parish. But just as there are wheels within wheels, so there may be manors within manors, and it happens that Mr Wensley, an excellent yeoman who lately purchased the farm which he had previously occupied as a tenant—Birchdown, at the right base of the hill—is also a lord, though he modestly disclaims any intention of proceeding to the Upper House of Parliament. Locally, however, he has his rights, and I believe the other lord has to pay his lesser brother “quit-rent” for certain land “within the ambit” of the manor of Bampton.
From the summit of Grant’s Hill one gains the first sight of Somerset, and very prepossessing one finds it, with the twin valleys of the Exe and Barle cleaving the high ground, and Pixton enthroned between. By their junction the two rivers form a wide basin in which lies the township of Exebridge. This, as will be shown, was the scene of one of the exploits of the famous Faggus. There is nothing uncanny about Exebridge; indeed, it may be called an open, sunny hamlet. Nevertheless, the river here has its black pool, to which was “banished”—when or for what reason I cannot say—Madam Thorold, of Burston, an old house in the neighbourhood. In like manner, but rather less cruelly, Madam Gaddy, of Great House, Bampton, was “banished” to Barton, with leave to return at a cock’s-stride a year. When she gets back, she will be horrified to find her grand old mansion gone and a modern public-house usurping its name and place. Similarly, the late Captain Musgrove, of Stone Farm, Exford, is reputed to have been conjured away by so many parsons to Pinkery Pond, whence he is on his way back at the conventional cock’s-stride.
As chance wills, without going out of my way, I have it in my power to supplement these brief, but poignant, accounts of the supernatural with other and more detailed ghost-stories derived from the history or traditions of the Sydenham family. Close to Dulverton Station are two roads branching off to the left; either of these will conduct you to the village of Brushford, and from there to the entrance to Combe, a beautiful Elizabethan manor-house built in the usual shape of an E. The Sydenhams were a distinguished Somersetshire family, and, although some of its branches are extinct, and others fallen from their high estate, there are left ample proofs of its former greatness, and, if I may be permitted to say so much of those whom I have been privileged to know as friends, “still in their ashes glow their wonted fires.”
It was in 1568 that John Sydenham bought the manor of Dulverton from Francis Babington, a gentleman of the Privy Chamber, but the connection of the family with Dulverton is of much longer standing; and as a John de Sydenham is mentioned as marrying Mary, daughter and heir of Joan Pixton, of Pixton, in the fourteenth century, this may perhaps be taken as the period of their first settlement in the neighbourhood. They had other homes in Somerset—notably at Brympton d’Evercy, near Yeovil, now the property of Sir Spencer Ponsonby Fane; and the canopied monument, erected in the little church hard by, to a Sydenham by a Sydenham, is worth going a day’s journey to see.
So far as the house and estate of Combe are concerned, they first came into the possession of the Sydenhams through the marriage of Edward, son of John Sydenham, of Badialton (Bathealton), with Joan, daughter and heir of Walter Combe, of Combe, in 1482. Part of the original mansion still remains, and is used as servants’ quarters; the house, however, was rebuilt during the reign of Elizabeth, and probably towards its close, as two medals, struck to commemorate the defeat of the Armada, were found, some few years ago, beneath the floor of the entrance porch. The main entrance of the older building appears to have been in the east wing, where cross-beams, over what were once two very wide doorways, are still to be seen. The second doorway opened into the inner court or quadrangle. The stone, a species of shillett, was quarried near the house, and, instead of mortar, clay was largely used. A better sort of stone was employed in the later building, with plenty of lime and sand. The oak work is magnificent.
There was a close connection between the Sydenhams of Combe and those of Brympton. Humphry, well-known as the “silver-tongued,” Sydenham, was a scion of the latter branch. He entered at Exeter College, Oxford, became Fellow of Wadham in the same university, and then chaplain to Lord Howard, of Escrigg, and Archbishop Laud successively. Appointed rector of Pockington and Odcombe, he resided in the latter place (Tom Coryate’s native village); and his preferments included a prebendal stall at Wells. On the establishment of the Commonwealth, he was deprived of his living by the Commissioners, and retired to Combe, where he performed the church service for tenants and others who chose to attend in the chapel-room over the hall. This eloquent divine was buried at Dulverton.
Major Sir George Sydenham, another brother of Sir John Sydenham, of Brympton d’Evercy, and a knight-marshal in the army of Charles I., had married his cousin Susan, daughter of George Sydenham, of Combe; and, whilst staying with his wife at her father’s house, received an urgent summons to accompany his brother on some public occasion. Nothing more was heard of him until one night, as his wife was sleeping peacefully, he appeared to her in his military dress, but deathly pale. Starting up in affright, she exclaimed that her husband was dead, and announced her intention of joining him. Accordingly, the next morning she set out, and on the way was met by a messenger who unluckily confirmed her presentiment, saying that her lord had died suddenly.[11]