Sussex Gorse: The Story of a FightKaye-Smith, Sheila
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Sussex Gorse: The Story of a Fight
Kaye-Smith, Sheila
Sussex (England) -- Fiction
Produced by ellinora, Martin Pettit and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
SUSSEX GORSE
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
THE TRAMPING METHODIST
STARBRACE
SPELL LAND
ISLE OF THORNS
THREE AGAINST THE WORLD
SAMUEL RICHARDSON
WILLOW'S FORGE AND OTHER POEMS
SUSSEX GORSE
THE STORY OF A FIGHT
BY
SHEILA KAYE-SMITH
[Illustration: Decoration]
NEW YORK
ALFRED A. KNOPF
MCMXVI
CONTENTS
PAGE
PROLOGUE. THE CHALLENGE 1
BOOK I THE BEGINNING OF THE FIGHT 22
BOOK II THE WOMAN'S PART 78
BOOK III THE ELDER CHILDREN 120
BOOK IV TREACHERIES 192
BOOK V ALMOST UNDER 243
BOOK VI STRUGGLING UP 331
BOOK VII THE END IN SIGHT 382
BOOK VIII THE VICTORY 432
SUSSEX GORSE
PROLOGUE
THE CHALLENGE
§ 1.
Boarzell Fair had been held every year on Boarzell Moor for as long as
the oldest in Peasmarsh could remember. The last Thursday in October was
the date, just when the woods were crumpling into brown, and fogs
blurred the wavy sunsets.
The Moor was on the eastern edge of the parish, five miles from Rye.
Heaving suddenly swart out of the green water-meadows by Socknersh, it
piled itself towards the sunrise, dipping to Leasan House. It was
hummocked and tussocked with coarse grass--here and there a spread of
heather, growing, like all southern heather, almost arboreally. In
places the naked soil gaped in sores made by coney-warrens or uprooted
bushes. Stones and roots, sharn, shards, and lumps of marl, mixed
themselves into the wealden clay, which oozed in red streaks of
potential fruitfulness through their sterility.
The crest of Boarzell was marked by a group of firs, very gaunt and
wind-bitten, rising out of a mass of gorse, as the plumes of some savage
chief might nod mangily above his fillet. When the gorse was in bloom,
one caught the flare of it from the Kentish hills, or away westward from
Brightling and Dallington. This day in the October of 1835, the
flowerets were either nipped or scattered, or hidden by the cloths the
gipsies had spread to dry on the bushes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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