And now, after having fully1 considered the evidence for and against the much-debated existence of these old reprobates2 and masterless men, let us advance into their country, and into that of the romantic Lorna, who was, of course, an adopted Doone merely.
OARE CHURCH.
The way to Oare, branching off to the left, plunges4 immediately down into the profound valley of the Oare Water. “Hookway Hill” is the name of this abominable6 road, bad enough in its own native vileness7, but rendered worse by the strange humour of the local road-repairing authority, always at pains to deposit cartloads of stones on it in the summer, so that there shall be plenty of opportunity for the tourist traffic to roll this loose material in by the autumn. Thus the literary pilgrim to the scenes of “Lorna Doone” is made to earn that title, eloquent8 as it is of suffering and difficulties encountered, wrestled9 with, and overcome. Long is the way and steep and winding10, and he who, cycling, would seek to avoid the prodigious11 stones by tracking to the 287side, must make his account with the yard-long projecting blackberry brambles, armed with monstrous12 thorns, that curry-comb the face, clutch off the cap, or take one by the arm in a confidential13 grip, like some old friend who would bid you “wait a bit.” Later on in the year, possibly, hedgers will be at work with their “riphooks,” slashing14 off these terrors of the way, and then woe15 to the cyclist’s tyres! It is a nice point, where and when the blackberry bramble is most offensive; when it is in a position to scarify the 288traveller’s person, or when, shorn off and lying in the road, its thorns play havoc16 with india-rubber.
NEAR ROBBER’S BRIDGE.
At the foot of Hookway Hill, the peaty little Oare, or Weir18, water, rushing over a pebbly19 bed is crossed by Robber’s Bridge, and thenceforward the road runs level, past Oareford, and then as an exceedingly narrow lane, to Oare; passing two or three solitary20 farms that in these latter days provide for summer visitors whose humour is for a fortnight or a month in the wilds. One of these is identified, more or less accurately21, with the “Plovers Barrows’ Farm” of the novel.
Presently Oare church appears, on the left hand, almost wholly hidden in a circle of tall, spindly trees, and neighboured only by one farm. 289It is a grey, sad-toned building, this centre of interest in Lorna’s tragedy. Chiefly in the Perpendicular22 style, it consists of an embattled western tower and a nave23 without aisles24. The chancel is a modern addition. All day and every day in the summer an old man sits in the little north porch, with the key of the church on a bench beside him, and if, not seeing the key, you try the door, and, finding it locked, ask him, he will give it you, and leave you to let yourself in: mutely remaining there, a living hint for a tip. “Lorna Doone” has done this. “Parish clerk, he be, an’ used to be saxon,” remarked an old road-mender. “He do mek’ a dale o’ money,” is the rustic25 opinion; but what amount may be represented by “a deal of money” in this estimate does not appear. Also, “Dree an’ saxpunz a wik,” he gets from the parish: so there is no old age pension for him; and unless the parish of Oare, in a fit of wild extravagance, springs another eighteenpence, he will be a loser.
The interior of Oare church is, truth to tell, lamentably26 uninteresting, and architecturally deplorable. A something wooden, that does duty for chancel screen, divides nave from sanctuary27, and a few characterless marble and slate28 tablets are affixed29 to the walls: one of them to the memory of a Nicholas Snow, 1791. A tablet to various members of the Spurryer family exhibits a curious uncertainty30 as to how the name should be spelled. “Spurre” and “Spurry” are the two other versions given. The name of “Peter 290Spurryer, Warden31, 1717,” appears under one of a couple of fearsome paintings in the tower, representing Moses and Aaron; the work of one “Mervine Cooke, Painter.”
INTERIOR OF OARE CHURCH.
Under a deplorable representation of the triple Prince of Wales’ feathers, placed on the wall near the pulpit, to commemorate32 a visit of the Prince of Wales in 1863 will be found the only interesting object in the church: a rudely carved stone bracket supporting what was once a piscina. Shaped in the form of a head, the expressionless face is flanked by two hands. Very few visitors can have any notion of the meaning of this grotesque33 291object, and most people set it down as a mere3 fantasy; but the thing is symbolical34, and really typifies the Divine gift of speech. Other examples are found throughout England: notably35 in the churches of Bere Regis, in Dorsetshire, and Gotham, Nottinghamshire.[8] This carving36 is by far the oldest thing in Oare church, and is probably a relic37 from some earlier building.
From Oare we come directly to Malmsmead where the Badgworthy Water divides Somerset and Devon, and is spanned by a grey, timeworn, two-arched bridge.
The scene is sweet and idyllic39. Here the bridge, grown thickly with ferns and moss40, and stained red, brown, and orange with lichens41, spans the water in hump-backed fashion, and on the opposite—that is to say, the Devonshire—shore, the three farmsteads of Malmsmead, Lorna Doone, and Badgworthy Farms stand side by side in seeming content, sheltered beneath swelling42 hills. Day by day in summer a long succession of brakes and flys bring visitors from Lynton and Lynmouth and set them down here for an afternoon’s exploration of the Badgworthy Valley, or drive them on to Oare.
To see one of these brake-drivers take the steep rise of the narrow bridge of Malmsmead at full speed, and so continue his reckless way along the narrow lanes, is to realise that death possibly awaits the cyclist who descends43 hills and rounds 292the sharp corners of these lanes at high speed at such times when these vehicles are about.
For the comfort and refreshment45 of these “Lorna Doone” pilgrims, the three farms, that were nothing but humble46 farmsteads in the days before Blackmore wrote that popular romance, have now become rustic restaurants, doing a very thriving and remunerative47 business, at prices which, calculated on the basis of their charge of twopence for a small glass of milk, must be rapidly earning a more than modest competence48 for these simple folk. Simple, did I say? Well, that, perhaps, is hardly the word. Nor is the content that seems to be pictured here, in every circumstance of running water, moss-grown bridge, and bird-haunted trees, more than a hollow mockery. Come with me over the bridge, into Devon, and I shall show you evidence of keen commercial rivalry49, in the notice-board displayed from the hedge of Malmsmead Farm, which says “No connection with Lorna Doone and Badgworthy Farm.” Now it is a curious fact that the names of these rival rustic refreshment-providers are the same—French—but that does not by any means explain the hatred50, malice51, and all uncharitableness that are displayed between these neighbours; for few must be the pilgrims in these parts who acquire such trivial facts. The stranger coming from the direction of Oare and halting awhile on the bridge, to admire the beauty of the scene, will soon find himself invited, by one or other of these people, to patronise his establishment, and will thereby52 293learn something not to the advantage of the rival. Hearing the tale of one, you are shocked at the depth of infamy53 with which the other is charged, but the people of the neighbourhood take it all philosophically54 enough. “I ’xpec’ they do saay ’most as bad o’ he,” is the general remark.
MALMSMEAD.
On a busy day, as many as twenty-seven waggonettes and other vehicles may be found at Malmsmead, drawn55 up empty, awaiting the return of the “Lorna Doone” sightseers from the Badgworthy Valley and the Doone Valley, or Oare. Constant repetition of the trip, day by day in the season, for many years, has rendered the drivers indifferent. Some you may observe asleep, others playing cards, and all those who 294are awake swearing. Meanwhile, the pilgrims in search of the Doone Valley and the homes of those entirely56 fabulous57 people have tailed away along the footpaths59 beside the Badgworthy Water, in search of literary landmarks60. Few, however, get as far as the so-called “Doone Valley,” for it is a very considerable walk; and most people have by this time sadly realised that Blackmore’s fervid61 descriptions of places are, as a rule, remarkable62 for their shameless exaggeration. In sober truth, the Badgworthy Valley, that opens out of Malmsmead, forms a much more striking scene than the supposed stronghold of the Doones. It is a typical moorland vale, with the Badgworthy Water—or the “Badgery” as they style it in these parts—pouring down out of the sullen63 Exmoor hills, gliding64 with an oily smoothness over waterslides, foaming65 over stickles, or splashing like very miniature Niagaras over great moss-grown boulders67.
The valley is not nowadays so lonely as Blackmoor pictures it: in fact, the terrible “Badgery Valley,” as described by him, never existed, and almost the entire thing is a delusion69 and a snare70. Plantations71 of fir and larch72 partly clothe the rounded hills on the left hand, and a farmhouse73 (since the publication of “Lorna Doone” named “Lorna’s Bower,” in big letters that, painted on its whitewashed74 garden-wall, stare across the stream) is perched comfortably half-way up the hillside.
The footpath58 that winds ribbon-like beside 295the stream comes presently to Badgworthy Wood, a wood of stunted75 oaks, whose limbs are bearded with a grey-green moss that tells sufficiently76 of the humid atmosphere and the mists that drift from Exmoor. Parson Jack77 Russell believed Badgworthy Wood to have been a Druid’s grave; but we may, perhaps, with safety decline to accept him as an authority on the subject. Now, had he expressed an opinion on horse-coping and sharp practice generally in horsey matters, his views would carry all the weight due to such an acknowledged authority.
BADGWORTHY VALLEY.
Here the foxglove grows in the shade, and hart’s-tongue ferns come to an unusual size. The whortleberry plant, too, flourishes in this moist spot to a height prodigious for whortleberries. Some of them must run up to eighteen inches; but the berries have not the sweetness of those that 296grow on the dwarfed78 plants of the sun-scorched, rain-furrowed, and wind-lashed downs.
Save for the passing of groups of “Lorna Doone” pilgrims, the place is very solitary. The hills that look down upon the valley here rise higher, and draw closer in, swooping79 down in naked round outlines in the foreground, and filling in the distance with dense80 blue-black plantations of larch. The bald outlines of those near at hand are sharply accented by a wind-swept lone68 thorn-tree that stands out curiously81 against the sky. Below it, stretching down the hillside is an ancient earthwork, in shape roughly like the letter Y; and down below this again, the Badgworthy Water foams82 and slides amidst its boulders.
Quietly walking through the little wood, and then silently along the grassy83 paths through the almost breast-high bracken beyond, I started a fox from his summer afternoon sleep on a sun-warmed boulder66; a fine, but gaunt fellow of crimson84 hue85, and with a magnificent brush. Not one of your full-fed Midland foxes, plump with a long career of raids on poultry-runs, but one accustomed to picking up a mere living by sheer hard work in these wilds. He loped leisurely86 away into the woods, with an easy swinging gait that looked deceptively slow. Up along there, where he disappeared amid the tangled87 branches, a monstrous square mass of rock stands half-revealed, remarkably88 like some ancient stone-built house; a veritable Mockbeggar Hall, that, on a near approach, is found to be no habitation 297of man, but a crannied, cliff-like place, partly draped with ivy89; the home of jackdaws, and tunnelled about the base of it with the runs of hares and rabbits.
And thus, at length one comes to the terrible “Doone Valley,” or, as it is better, and correctly known, Lankcombe; a pretty vale branching to the right, not in the least terrible, you know, and in fact rather dull and commonplace, after the beauties of Badgworthy. Perhaps the enthusiastic Lorna Dooneite, if he would keep his enthusiasm, had better not adventure thus far; for though he may indeed see some problematic ruins and doubtful foundations of houses, he will assuredly be keenly disappointed. A commonplace shepherd’s hut looks down upon the scene, young plantations mantle90 the quite unremarkable hills, and romance fails to keep the expected tryst91.
But if so be the pilgrim resents being cheated of scenic92 delights, let him then retrace93 his steps, cross Malmsmead Bridge into Devon, and so proceed a distance of some six miles down the enchanting94 gorge96 of the Lyn, to Lynmouth. No novelist has flung the spells of romance upon that delightful97 scenery, which is indeed sufficient in itself to enchant95 the stranger, without such extraneous98 aid. Or, if it be desired to return to Porlock, let the stranger proceed to Brendon, and then descend44 the hill at Combe Park, coming thus again to the ridge17 of moorland that runs between Porlock and Lynmouth. Here turning eastward99 298he will come to Glenthorne, where the wooded cliffs plunge5 daringly to the sea, and where the boundary line passes that divides Devon and Somerset. The name of Glenthorne clearly invites irresponsible and foolish rhyme, and so, responding to so obvious an invitation, these pages shall conclude with such:
There was an old man of Glenthorne,
Who played “tootle-oo” on the horn.
He blew night and day
To his neighbours, till they
Said, “Stop it! you giddy old prawn:[9]
You tootle all night,
We wish you had never been born.”
9. “No class” people, these neighbours, obviously.
The End
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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reprobates
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| n.道德败坏的人，恶棍( reprobate的名词复数 ) | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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vileness
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| n.讨厌，卑劣 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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slashing
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| adj.尖锐的；苛刻的；鲜明的；乱砍的v.挥砍( slash的现在分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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weir
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| n.堰堤，拦河坝 | |
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pebbly
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| 多卵石的，有卵石花纹的 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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perpendicular
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| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
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nave
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| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
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aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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lamentably
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| adv.哀伤地，拙劣地 | |
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sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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affixed
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| adj.[医]附着的，附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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warden
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| n.监察员，监狱长，看守人，监护人 | |
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commemorate
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| vt.纪念，庆祝 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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symbolical
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| a.象征性的 | |
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notably
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| adv.值得注意地，显著地，尤其地，特别地 | |
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carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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idyllic
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| adj.质朴宜人的，田园风光的 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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lichens
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| n.地衣( lichen的名词复数 ) | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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descends
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| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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remunerative
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| adj.有报酬的 | |
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competence
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| n.能力，胜任，称职 | |
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rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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philosophically
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| adv.哲学上；富有哲理性地；贤明地；冷静地 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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footpaths
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| 人行小径，人行道( footpath的名词复数 ) | |
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landmarks
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| n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 )；目标；（标志重要阶段的）里程碑 ~ (in sth)；有历史意义的建筑物（或遗址） | |
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fervid
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| adj.热情的；炽热的 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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larch
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| n.落叶松 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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dwarfed
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| vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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swooping
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的现在分词 ) | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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foams
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| n.泡沫，泡沫材料( foam的名词复数 ) | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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84
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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85
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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86
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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87
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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90
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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tryst
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| n.约会；v.与…幽会 | |
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scenic
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| adj.自然景色的，景色优美的 | |
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retrace
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| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
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enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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enchant
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| vt.使陶醉，使入迷；使着魔，用妖术迷惑 | |
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gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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98
extraneous
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| adj.体外的；外来的；外部的 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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100
pawn
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| n.典当，抵押，小人物，走卒；v.典当，抵押 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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