The Legend of a Gateway - Richard Jefferies

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
The Legend of a Gateway by Richard Jeffreys. A great
beech tree with a white mark some way up the
trunk stood in the mound by a gate which opened
into a lane. Strangers coming down the lane in the
dusk often hesitated before they approached this beach. The white

(00:21):
mark looked like a ghostly figure emerging from the dark hedge,
and the shadow of the tree. The trunk itself was
of the same hue at that hour as the bushes,
so that the whiteness seemed to stand out unsupported. So
perfect was the illusion that even those who knew the
spot well walking or riding past and not thinking about

(00:44):
it started as it suddenly came into sight. Plowboys used
to throw flints at it, as if the sound of
the stone striking the tree assured them that it was
really material. Some lyching was apparently the cause of this whiteness.
The great beach, indeed, was known to be decaying, and

(01:05):
was dotted with not holes high above. The gate was
rather low, so that anyone could lean with arms over
the top bar. At one time a lady used to
be very frequently seen just inside the gate, generally without
a hat. For the homestead was close by. Sometimes a

(01:26):
horse saddled and bridled but without his rider, was observed
to be fastened to the gate, and country people, being
singularly curious and inquisitive, if they chanced to go by,
always peered through every opening in the hedge till they
had discerned where the pair were walking among the cowslips.

(01:47):
More often a spaniel betrayed them, especially in the evening,
for while the courting was proceeding, he amused himself digging
with his paws at the rabbit holes in the mound.
The folk, which turning to their cottages, had even smiled
and looked meaningly at each other if they heard a
peculiarly long and shrill whistle, which was known to every

(02:09):
one as Luke's signal. Some said that it was heard
every evening. No matter how far Luke had to ride
in the day, his whistle was sure to be heard
towards dusk. Luke was a timber dealer or merchant, a
calling that generally leads to substantial profit, as wealth is

(02:30):
understood in country places. He bought up lightly timber all
over the neighborhood. He had wharves on the canal and
yards by the little railway station miles away. He often
went up to London, but if it was ninety miles
he was sure to be back in time to whistle.

(02:50):
If he was not too busy. The whistle used to
go twice a day, for when he started off in
the morning, no matter where he had to go to,
that was the road to it. The lane led everywhere.
Up in the Great Beach about eleven o'clock on spring mornings,
there was always a woodpigeon. The woodpigeon is a contemplative

(03:14):
sort of bird, and pauses now and then during the
day to consider over his labours in filling his crop.
He came again about half past four, but it was
at eleven that his visit to the beach was usually noticed.
From the window in the lady's own room, the beach
and the gate could be seen, and as that was
often Luke's time, she frequently sat upstairs with the window open,

(03:38):
listening for the sound of hoofs or the well known whistle.
She saw the woodpigeon on so many occasions that at
last she grew to watch for the bird, and when
he went up into the tree, put down her work
or her book and walked out that way, secure in
the top of the great beach, and conscious that it

(03:59):
was spring when guns are laid aside. The woodpigeon took
no heed of her. There is nothing so pleasant to
stroll among as cowslips. This mead was full of them,
so much so that a little way in front the
surface seemed yellow. They had all short stalks. This is

(04:20):
always the case where these flowers grow very thickly, and
the bells were a pale and somewhat lemon color. The
great cowslips, with deep yellow and marked spots, grow by
themselves in bunches, in corners or on the banks of brooks.
Here a man might have mown acres of cowslips, pale
but sweet, out of their cups. The bees hummed as

(04:44):
she walked amongst them, a closed book in her hand, dreaming.
She generally returned with Luke's spaniel beside her, for whether
his master came or not, the knowing dog rarely missed
his visit, aware that there was always something good for him.
One morning she went dreaming on like this through the cowslips,

(05:09):
past the old beach and the gate, and along by
the nut tree hedge. It was very sunny and warm,
and the birds sang with all their might, for there
had been a shower at dawn, which always set their
hearts a tune. At least eight or nine of them
were singing at once thrush and blackbird, cuckoo, afar off,

(05:32):
dove and greenfinch, nightingale, robin and loud wren, and larks
in the sky. But unlike all other music, though each
had a different voice, and the notes crossed and interfered
with each other, yet they did not jangle, but produced
the sweetest sounds. The more of them that sang together,

(05:54):
the sweeter the music. It is true they all had
one thought of love at heart, and that perhaps brought
about the concord. She did not expect to see Luke
that morning, knowing that he had to get some felled
trees removed from a field the farmer, wishing them taken
away before the mowing grass grew too high, and as

(06:16):
the spot was ten or twelve miles distant, he had
to start early. Not being so much on the alert,
she fell deeper, perhaps into reverie, which lasted till she
reached the other side of the field. When the spaniel
rushed out of the hedge and leaped up to be noticed,
quite startling her. At the same moment she thought she

(06:38):
heard the noise of hoofs in the lane. It might
be Luke, and immediately afterwards there came his long, shrill
and peculiar whistle from the gate under the beach. She
ran as fast as she could, the spaniel barking beside her,
and was at the gate in two or three minutes.

(06:58):
But Luke was not there, nor was he anywhere in
the lane she could see up and down it over
the low gate. He must have gone on up to
the homestead, not seeing her. At the house, however, she
found they had not seen him. He had not called

(07:19):
a little hurt that he should have galloped on so hastily,
she set about some household affairs, resolved to think no
more of him that morning, and to give him a
frown when he came in the evening. But he did
not come in the evening. It was evident he was detained.

(07:39):
Luke's trees were lying in the long grass beside a copse,
and the object was to get them out of the
field across the adjacent railway and to set them down
in a lane on the sward. Whence he could send
for them at leisure. The farmer was very anxious to
get them out of the grass, and Luke did his
best to oblige him. When Luke arrived at the spot,

(08:03):
having for once ridden straight there, he found that almost
all the work was done and only one tree remained.
This they were getting up on the timber carriage, and
Luke dismounted and assisted. While it was on the timber carriage,
he said, as it was the last, they could take
it along to the wharf. The farmer had come down

(08:27):
to watch how the work got on, and with him
was his little boy, a child of five or six.
When the boy saw the great tree fixed, he cried
to be mounted on it for a ride, but as
it was so rough, they persuaded him to ride on
one of the horses instead. As they all approached the
gate at the level crossing, a white gate with the

(08:50):
words in long black letters to be kept locked, they
heard the roar of the Morning Express and stayed for
it to go by. So soon as the train had passed,
the gate was opened, and the horses began to drag
the carriage across. As they strained at the heavy weight.

(09:10):
The boy found the motion uncomfortable and cried out, and Luke,
always kind hearted, went and held him on. Whether it
was the shouting at the team, the cracking of the whip,
the rumbling of the wheels, or what was never known.
But suddenly the farmer who had crossed the rail screamed

(09:33):
the goods round the curve by the copse, and till
then hidden by it, swept a goods train scarce thirty
yards away. Luke might have saved himself, but the boy
he snatched the child from the horse, hurled him, literally

(09:53):
hurled him into the father's arms, and in the instant
was a shapeless mass. The scene is too dreadful for
further description. This miserable accident happened as the driver of
the goods train afterwards stated at exactly eight minutes past
eleven o'clock. It was precisely at that time that Luke's lady,

(10:19):
dreaming among the cowslips, heard the noise of hoofs and
his long, shrill and peculiar whistle at the gate beneath
the beach. She was certain of the time for these reasons. First,
she had seen the woodpigeon go up into the beach
just before she started out. Secondly, she remembered nodding to

(10:41):
an aged laborer who came up to the house every
morning at that hour for his ale. Thirdly, it would
take a person walking slowly eight or ten minutes to
cross that side of the mead. And Fourthly, when she
came back to the house to see if Luke was there,
the clock pointed to a quarter past and was known

(11:02):
to be a little fast. Without a doubt she had
heard the well known whistle, apparently coming from the gate
beneath the beach, exactly at the moment poor Luke was
dashed to pieces twelve miles away. End of the legend
of a gateway