sort of tenderness to see the gallant way she met her lot–cursing
and reviling all the crowd that gaped and gazed around her, whilst
the flames licked upward toward her face and catched her thin
locks and crackled about her old gray head–cursing them! why an’
thou should’st live a thousand years thoud’st never hear so
masterful a cursing. Alack, her art died with her. There be base
and weakling imitations left, but no true blasphemy.”
The Ruffler sighed; the listeners sighed in sympathy; a general
depression fell upon the company for a moment, for even hardened
outcasts like these are not wholly dead to sentiment, but are able
to feel a fleeting sense of loss and affliction at wide intervals
and under peculiarly favouring circumstances–as in cases like to
this, for instance, when genius and culture depart and leave no
heir. However, a deep drink all round soon restored the spirits
of the mourners.
“Have any others of our friends fared hardly?” asked Hobbs.
“Some–yes. Particularly new comers–such as small husbandmen
turned shiftless and hungry upon the world because their farms
were taken from them to be changed to sheep ranges. They begged,
and were whipped at the cart’s tail, naked from the girdle up,
till the blood ran; then set in the stocks to be pelted; they
begged again, were whipped again, and deprived of an ear; they
begged a third time–poor devils, what else could they do?–and
were branded on the cheek with a red-hot iron, then sold for
slaves; they ran away, were hunted down, and hanged. ‘Tis a brief
tale, and quickly told. Others of us have fared less hardly.
Stand forth, Yokel, Burns, and Hodge–show your adornments!”
These stood up and stripped away some of their rags, exposing
their backs, criss-crossed with ropy old welts left by the lash;
one turned up his hair and showed the place where a left ear had
once been; another showed a brand upon his shoulder–the letter V-
-and a mutilated ear; the third said–
“I am Yokel, once a farmer and prosperous, with loving wife and
kids–now am I somewhat different in estate and calling; and the
wife and kids are gone; mayhap they are in heaven, mayhap in–in
the other place–but the kindly God be thanked, they bide no more
in ENGLAND! My good old blameless mother strove to earn bread by
nursing the sick; one of these died, the doctors knew not how, so
my mother was burnt for a witch, whilst my babes looked on and
wailed. English law!–up, all, with your cups!–now all together
and with a cheer!–drink to the merciful English law that
delivered HER from the English hell! Thank you, mates, one and
all. I begged, from house to house–I and the wife–bearing with
us the hungry kids–but it was crime to be hungry in England–so
they stripped us and lashed us through three towns. Drink ye all
again to the merciful English law!–for its lash drank deep of my
Mary’s blood and its blessed deliverance came quick. She lies
there, in the potter’s field, safe from all harms. And the kids–
well, whilst the law lashed me from town to town, they starved.
Drink, lads–only a drop–a drop to the poor kids, that never did
any creature harm. I begged again–begged, for a crust, and got
the stocks and lost an ear–see, here bides the stump; I begged
again, and here is the stump of the other to keep me minded of it.
And still I begged again, and was sold for a slave–here on my
cheek under this stain, if I washed it off, ye might see the red S
the branding-iron left there! A SLAVE! Do you understand that
word? An English SLAVE!–that is he that stands before ye. I
have run from my master, and when I am found–the heavy curse of
heaven fall on the law of the land that hath commanded it!–I
shall hang!” {1}
A ringing voice came through the murky air–
“Thou shalt NOT!–and this day the end of that law is come!”
All turned, and saw the fantastic figure of the little King
approaching hurriedly; as it emerged into the light and was