XII. HOW EVERYBODY GREAT AND SMALL CLIMBED TO THE TOP OF THE DOWNS
As the days went on, echoes of the life and bustle of the town
reached the ears of the quiet people in Overcombe hollow--exciting
and moving those unimportant natives as a ground-swell moves the
weeds in a cave. Travelling-carriages of all kinds and colours
climbed and descended the road that led towards the seaside borough.
Some contained those personages of the King's suite who had not kept
pace with him in his journey from Windsor; others were the coaches
of aristocracy, big and little, whom news of the King's arrival drew
thither for their own pleasure: so that the highway, as seen from
the hills about Overcombe, appeared like an ant-walk--a constant
succession of dark spots creeping along its surface at nearly
uniform rates of progress, and all in one direction.
The traffic and intelligence between camp and town passed in a
measure over the villagers' heads. It being summer time the miller
was much occupied with business, and the trumpet-major was too
constantly engaged in marching between the camp and Gloucester Lodge
with the rest of the dragoons to bring his friends any news for some
days.
At last he sent a message that there was to be a review on the downs
by the King, and that it was fixed for the day following. This
information soon spread through the village and country round, and
next morning the whole population of Overcombe--except two or three
very old men and women, a few babies and their nurses, a cripple,
and Corporal Tullidge--ascended the slope with the crowds from afar,
and awaited the events of the day.
The miller wore his best coat on this occasion, which meant a good
deal. An Overcombe man in those days would have a best coat, and
keep it as a best coat half his life. The miller's had seen five
and twenty summers chiefly through the chinks of a clothes-box, and
was not at all shabby as yet, though getting singular. But that
could not be helped; common coats and best coats were distinct
species, and never interchangeable. Living so near the scene of the
review he walked up the hill, accompanied by Mrs. Garland and Anne
as usual.
It was a clear day, with little wind stirring, and the view from the
downs, one of the most extensive in the county, was unclouded. The
eye of any observer who cared for such things swept over the
wave-washed town, and the bay beyond, and the Isle, with its pebble
bank, lying on the sea to the left of these, like a great crouching
animal tethered to the mainland. On the extreme east of the marine
horizon, St. Aldhelm's Head closed the scene, the sea to the
southward of that point glaring like a mirror under the sun. Inland
could be seen Badbury Rings, where a beacon had been recently
erected; and nearer, Rainbarrow, on Egdon Heath, where another
stood: farther to the left Bulbarrow, where there was yet another.
Not far from this came Nettlecombe Tout; to the west, Dogberry Hill,
and Black'on near to the foreground, the beacon thereon being built
of furze faggots thatched with straw, and standing on the spot where
the monument now raises its head.
At nine o'clock the troops marched upon the ground--some from the
camps in the vicinity, and some from quarters in the different towns
round about. The approaches to the down were blocked with carriages
of all descriptions, ages, and colours, and with pedestrians of
every class. At ten the royal personages were said to be drawing
near, and soon after the King, accompanied by the Dukes of Cambridge
and Cumberland, and a couple of generals, appeared on horseback,
wearing a round hat turned up at the side, with a cockade and
military feather. (Sensation among the crowd.) Then the Queen and
three of the princesses entered the field in a great coach drawn by
six beautiful cream-coloured horses. Another coach, with four
horses of the same sort, brought the two remaining princesses.
(Confused acclamations, 'There's King Jarge!' 'That's Queen
Sharlett!' 'Princess 'Lizabeth!' 'Princesses Sophiar and Meelyer!'
etc., from the surrounding spectators.)
Anne and her party were fortunate enough to secure a position on the
top of one of the barrows which rose here and there on the down; and
the miller having gallantly constructed a little cairn of flints, he
placed the two women thereon, by which means they were enabled to
see over the heads, horses, and coaches of the multitudes below and
around. At the march-past the miller's eye, which had been
wandering about for the purpose, discovered his son in his place by
the trumpeters, who had moved forwards in two ranks, and were
sounding the march.
'That's John!' he cried to the widow. 'His trumpet-sling is of two
colours, d'ye see; and the others be plain.'
Mrs. Garland too saw him now, and enthusiastically admired him from
her hands upwards, and Anne silently did the same. But before the
young woman's eyes had quite left the trumpet-major they fell upon
the figure of Yeoman Festus riding with his troop, and keeping his
face at a medium between haughtiness and mere bravery. He certainly
looked as soldierly as any of his own corps, and felt more soldierly
than half-a-dozen, as anybody could see by observing him. Anne got
behind the miller, in case Festus should discover her, and,
regardless of his monarch, rush upon her in a rage with, 'Why the
devil did you run away from me that night--hey, madam?' But she
resolved to think no more of him just now, and to stick to Loveday,
who was her mother's friend. In this she was helped by the stirring
tones which burst from the latter gentleman and his subordinates
from time to time.
'Well,' said the miller complacently, 'there's few of more
consequence in a regiment than a trumpeter. He's the chap that
tells 'em what to do, after all. Hey, Mrs. Garland?'
'So he is, miller,' said she.
'They could no more do without Jack and his men than they could
without generals.'
'Indeed they could not,' said Mrs. Garland again, in a tone of
pleasant agreement with any one in Great Britain or Ireland.
It was said that the line that day was three miles long, reaching
from the high ground on the right of where the people stood to the
turnpike road on the left. After the review came a sham fight,
during which action the crowd dispersed more widely over the downs,
enabling Widow Garland to get still clearer glimpses of the King,
and his handsome charger, and the head of the Queen, and the elbows
and shoulders of the princesses in the carriages, and fractional
parts of General Garth and the Duke of Cumberland; which sights gave
her great gratification. She tugged at her daughter at every
opportunity, exclaiming, 'Now you can see his feather!' 'There's her
hat!' 'There's her Majesty's India muslin shawl!' in a minor form of
ecstasy, that made the miller think her more girlish and animated
than her daughter Anne.
In those military manoeuvres the miller followed the fortunes of one
man; Anne Garland of two. The spectators, who, unlike our party,
had no personal interest in the soldiery, saw only troops and
battalions in the concrete, straight lines of red, straight lines of
blue, white lines formed of innumerable knee-breeches, black lines
formed of many gaiters, coming and going in kaleidoscopic change.
Who thought of every point in the line as an isolated man, each
dwelling all to himself in the hermitage of his own mind? One
person did, a young man far removed from the barrow where the
Garlands and Miller Loveday stood. The natural expression of his
face was somewhat obscured by the bronzing effects of rough weather,
but the lines of his mouth showed that affectionate impulses were
strong within him--perhaps stronger than judgment well could
regulate. He wore a blue jacket with little brass buttons, and was
plainly a seafaring man.
Meanwhile, in the part of the plain where rose the tumulus on which
the miller had established himself, a broad-brimmed tradesman was
elbowing his way along. He saw Mr. Loveday from the base of the
barrow, and beckoned to attract his attention. Loveday went halfway
down, and the other came up as near as he could.
'Miller,' said the man, 'a letter has been lying at the post-office
for you for the last three days. If I had known that I should see
ye here I'd have brought it along with me.'
The miller thanked him for the news, and they parted, Loveday
returning to the summit. 'What a very strange thing!' he said to
Mrs. Garland, who had looked inquiringly at his face, now very
grave. 'That was Budmouth postmaster, and he says there's a letter
for me. Ah, I now call to mind that there WAS a letter in the
candle three days ago this very night--a large red one; but
foolish-like I thought nothing o't. Who CAN that letter be from?'
A letter at this time was such an event for hamleteers, even of the
miller's respectable standing, that Loveday thenceforward was thrown
into a fit of abstraction which prevented his seeing any more of the
sham fight, or the people, or the King. Mrs. Garland imbibed some
of his concern, and suggested that the letter might come from his
son Robert.
'I should naturally have thought that,' said Miller Loveday; 'but he
wrote to me only two months ago, and his brother John heard from him
within the last four weeks, when he was just about starting on
another voyage. If you'll pardon me, Mrs. Garland, ma'am, I'll see
if there's any Overcombe man here who is going to Budmouth to-day,
so that I may get the letter by night-time. I cannot possibly go
myself.'
So Mr. Loveday left them for awhile; and as they were so near home
Mrs. Garland did not wait on the barrow for him to come back, but
walked about with Anne a little time, until they should be disposed
to trot down the slope to their own door. They listened to a man
who was offering one guinea to receive ten in case Buonaparte should
be killed in three months, and to other entertainments of that
nature, which at this time were not rare. Once during their
peregrination the eyes of the sailor before-mentioned fell upon
Anne; but he glanced over her and passed her unheedingly by.
Loveday the elder was at this time on the other side of the line,
looking for a messenger to the town. At twelve o'clock the review
was over, and the King and his family left the hill. The troops
then cleared off the field, the spectators followed, and by one
o'clock the downs were again bare.
They still spread their grassy surface to the sun as on that
beautiful morning not, historically speaking, so very long ago; but
the King and his fifteen thousand armed men, the horses, the bands
of music, the princesses, the cream-coloured teams--the gorgeous
centre-piece, in short, to which the downs were but the mere mount
or margin--how entirely have they all passed and gone!--lying
scattered about the world as military and other dust, some at
Talavera, Albuera, Salamanca, Vittoria, Toulouse, and Waterloo; some
in home churchyards; and a few small handfuls in royal vaults.
In the afternoon John Loveday, lightened of his trumpet and
trappings, appeared at the old mill-house door, and beheld Anne
standing at hers.
'I saw you, Miss Garland,' said the soldier gaily.
'Where was I?' said she, smiling.
'On the top of the big mound--to the right of the King.'
'And I saw you; lots of times,' she rejoined.
Loveday seemed pleased. 'Did you really take the trouble to find
me? That was very good of you.'
'Her eyes followed you everywhere,' said Mrs. Garland from an upper
window.
'Of course I looked at the dragoons most,' said Anne, disconcerted.
'And when I looked at them my eyes naturally fell upon the trumpets.
I looked at the dragoons generally, no more.'
She did not mean to show any vexation to the trumpet-major, but he
fancied otherwise, and stood repressed. The situation was relieved
by the arrival of the miller, still looking serious.
'I am very much concerned, John; I did not go to the review for
nothing. There's a letter a-waiting for me at Budmouth, and I must
get it before bedtime, or I shan't sleep a wink.'
'I'll go, of course,' said John; 'and perhaps Miss Garland would
like to see what's doing there to-day? Everybody is gone or going;
the road is like a fair.'
He spoke pleadingly, but Anne was not won to assent.
'You can drive in the gig; 'twill do Blossom good,' said the miller.
'Let David drive Miss Garland,' said the trumpet-major, not wishing
to coerce her; 'I would just as soon walk.'
Anne joyfully welcomed this arrangement, and a time was fixed for
the start.
