Roger Willoughby: A Story of the Times of Benbow

by William Henry Giles Kingston

As soon as supper was over, Stephen, turning to the Cornet, said, “If you will give me leave, sir, I will take this opportunity of writing to my friends in Dorsetshire. I may not have another. Farmer Stubbs here will, I doubt not, be able to despatch a letter; and when he knows that life and death depend on it, he will exert himself to convey it in safety.”

The farmer started on hearing himself spoken of by name, which Stephen did inadvertently.

“Ay, that I will, you may depend on it, young gentleman; I would rather be the means of saving a man’s life than killing one, even in fair fight. If the Cornet will give me a safe pass that I may not be taken for one of those running away from the fight, I will undertake to convey the letter myself as soon as it is written.”

The Cornet did not appear to think that there was anything unusual in this proposal, and without hesitation promised to write a pass if Farmer Stubbs would find the paper.

“Here it is, gentlemen,” said the farmer’s wife, who had got up and had been searching about in a cupboard, as she produced several sheets of coarse letter-paper, very different from the fine notepaper of the present day, together with a bottle of ink, some quill pens, and a piece of sealing-wax.

Stephen at once commenced to write his proposed letter to his father, stating that he and Andrew had been captured on the supposition that they were escaping from the field of Sedgemoor; that they should probably be executed forthwith unless they were ransomed; and he pointed out to his father the importance of at once sending a person of trust with a sufficient sum, who might endeavour to obtain their liberation. Supposing that Roger Willoughby was still in England, he wrote a short letter to him to be forwarded by post, entreating that he would communicate with Mr Kempson and get him to exert his influence. This was done, it must be understood, under the idea which Stephen entertained, that after the slaughter of the battle-field was over, the prisoners captured would have a fair trial and time for their defence. He little dreamed of the cruel way Colonel Kirk and his lambs would treat those placed in their power, or the bloody assize under Judge Jeffreys. As soon as the letters were finished, he asked the Cornet to give his promised pass to the worthy farmer, as if it were a matter of no great consequence.

“He shall have it, and I shall be very glad if he succeeds in obtaining your release,” said the Cornet.

At length the farmer proposed that his guests should retire to rest, observing that his good woman would see them off in the morning, as his journey being a matter of life and death, he intended to start a couple of hours before daylight.

To this Cornet Bryce made no objection. “Very wise, as I suppose you know the road,” he observed.

More satisfied than they had been for some hours, Stephen and Andrew placed their heads on the pillow of the rough pallet which had been prepared for them; the soldiers stretched themselves on the floor, except the two wounded men, for whom the good dame made up separate beds, and again looked carefully to their hurts. They were all four soon snoring in concert. Andrew had joined them. Stephen kept awake, considering if there was any possibility of escaping. From what Cornet Bryce had told him, he knew that there was a risk the moment they arrived at Bridgewater of their being hung without examination or trial of any sort, numbers having been so treated by Feversham and Colonel Kirk. It was far safer, therefore, to escape, if it could be done. The Cornet himself, though he sat up talking with the farmer for some time, at length turned into the truckle bed provided for him, and was soon as fast asleep as his men. Farmer Stubbs was making certain preparations apparently for his journey, filling his saddle-bags with provisions, his holsters with a brace of pistols and ammunition. They were thus engaged as noiselessly as possible when the door opened, and two young men entered. The old woman put her finger to her lips as they gazed somewhat astonished at the number of occupants of the common room. Presently another came in; then the old lady, beckoning to them, accompanied them outside. On seeing this Stephen’s hopes rose. If they were all staunch men they might overpower their guard without the slightest difficulty, but then serious consequences might ensue to the farmer. Probably his house would be burnt down and his property destroyed, should the troopers suffer any violence. It seems surprising that Cornet Bryce should so far have neglected his duty as to go to sleep without placing a watch over them. After some time one of the young men returned and came up to Stephen’s bed. Finding that he was awake, he made a sign to him to get up, and arouse his brother as noiselessly as possible. As soon as they were both on foot he beckoned them out of the room.