The Willows and Beyond (27 page)

Whilst Toad, the very first to reach the front line of the High Judge’s men, and therefore the first to receive their insults and blows, had decided that as with speechifying so with battling, and he began belabouring all about him with a garden hoe supplied by his supporters.

Of the historic battle that now ensued no two accounts agree, nor can ever agree, since everything became utterly confused. There was no doubt, however, that Toad was finally felled by a blow to the head by a gamekeeper soon after the ranks of the High Judge’s men were broken and the charge began up the fell towards the top of Lathbury Chase.

He lay semi-conscious and forgotten among the heather and peat-hags for most of the action, only vaguely aware of the angry cries about him.

He did not see how the police re-grouped upon the bridge and set off in pursuit of their aggressors, nor how the High Judge himself, having most sensibly deployed only half his force at the bridge, had stationed the rest of his men at the top of the fell, where they lay waiting out of sight.

So it was that, filled with the first flush of success, the now leaderless Lathbury men broke ranks and ran up towards their objective without a thought, right into the ambush so cunningly laid by the High Judge, and were there beaten, defeated and turned back.

Of all this Toad knew nothing, nor that the battle was all but lost even as he woke up to a throbbing head, and the scent of heather and of peat about him. He sat up gingerly, appraised the gravity of the situation and fell back into the heather with a sigh.

“They will come and arrest me now for sure,” he told himself, “and I shall be returned to the Town Gaol from where I shall never come out alive. O despair!”

Toad stared up at the sky and began to feel very strange indeed. It was true that his head ached, but he did not care; and that all his limbs hurt, yet it mattered not. Yes, he felt most peculiar and he began to reflect upon the fact that never, ever in his life had he done anything so glorious as make that speech.

So many to listen to him.So many to follow him. And yet it had all been but words, just words and vanity and conceit, as the Badger had always said.

Toad lay pondering these things for some time, and might very well have remained there till the constables found him, had he not heard a terrible groaning nearby.

He sat up once more and what he saw made him forget all his own aches and pains, and put from him all selfish thoughts and vainglory For there was poor Mole, a crude bandage about his head, and Nephew tending him, himself cut and bleeding from the fray, while not far off Grandson was carefully applying a bandage to Badger’s arm.

“Toad, tend to Mole,” grunted Grandson, “while I look after my grandfather.”

“Dear Mole,” whispered Toad, who felt both chastened and angry as he went to his old friend and knelt at his side.

The Mole opened his eyes at Toad’s voice and said, “Did we really lose the battle, Toad?”

“Well, Mole, I don’t think we can claim to have won it,” said Toad quietly, seeing the Lathbury folk dragging themselves back towards the bridge, and possible custody.

“So we did not find the freedom of which you spoke,” whispered the Mole. “We did not reach the land of liberty.”

“Freedom?” repeated Toad. “Liberty? Well, I did speak of those things, and I meant what I said, but — but —“

The strangeness that Toad had felt earlier now returned to him, yet more powerfully, seeming like a singing in his ears, a distancing of all about him. Slowly Toad sat up. He felt again the troubling aches and pains in his limbs, and felt too a tightening about his chest, and it frightened him. As did the line of men that stood guard over Lathbury Chase: six gamekeepers, a few constables, a great many grooms, and the Commissioner of Police.

“Mole?” said Toad softly. “Might I borrow your cudgel for a time?”

The Mole sat up a little, much surprised at this request.

“Of course you can, Toad, but what —Toad picked up the weapon, and he looked at Nephew with a brief smile, perhaps even a modest rueful smile, which in its simplicity and ruefulness was quite unlike any that had ever been seen upon the face of Toad of Toad Hall before.

He pulled himself up to his fullest height and said, “You know, Mole, old fellow, it
isn’t
fair.”

“What isn’t?” said the puzzled Mole.

“This,” said Toad, pointing at the ranks of the establishment forces, and at the trailing army of the defeated, “it just isn’t fair! Freedom
can
be found and the land of liberty
may
be reached! And were our old friend Ratty here he would not give up. Mole, we must go on!”

Toad had made a good many speeches in his time, but he had never said anything so powerful and direct as those words he spoke to the Mole upon the battlefield.

“But, Toad!” cried the alarmed Mole. “Where are you going? You can’t — you mustn’t — — O my! Wait for me!”

How small and vulnerable those two now looked as, with Toad supporting the Mole — or perhaps each supporting the other, they began their slow progress towards the land of liberty. Neither looked back, and so they did not see the stirring hope that came now to Nephew’s eyes, nor the admiration and awe that came to Master Toad’s. They did not see how the Badger nodded to Grandson, and knew that after so many years, Toad was finally reformed.

“We must not let them down!” cried Nephew.

“Nor shall we!” declared Master Toad. “Here, Nephew, I have an idea. If you’ve strength enough, hoist me on your shoulders, for unless we muster support —Nephew understood the point immediately, and without further ado knelt on the ground so that Master Toad could climb upon his shoulders. It was a struggle but with Grandson’s help, Nephew managed to stand up once more.

“I say, you fellows!” began Master Toad.

“Louder!” cried Nephew.

“You over there!” he tried again.

“Louder still,” gasped Nephew, for Master Toad seemed to be getting heavier by the moment.

Then Toad’s ward let out a great rallying cry and as all heads turned in his direction he pointed to Toad and Mole.

“It’s Mr Toad!” he cried.
“He’s
not defeated. And Mr Mole as well.
He’s
going on. Turn about and follow them! Support them! Help them in their battle against the landlords and the —”

Poor Nephew could sustain Master Toad’s weight no longer, and tottering first to one side and then to another finally toppled them both forward into a grubby peat hag before the rallying speech was finished.

But Master Toad had done just enough. The Lathbury men nearest them turned to where he pointed, saw Mr Toad and Mr Mole, and cried to others near, “Look! The fight’s not over yet! Mr Toad’s pressing on once more!”

This astonishing news spread swiftly amongst the retreating Lathbury folk, and they saw that it was true: their hero Mr Toad was not defeated, and if that was so, and one as small and vulnerable as kindly Mr Mole was following him, then
they
must rally and lend their support as well.

They turned back and followed Mr Toad once more, whilst the High Judge’s tired men, some already sitting in the heather from fatigue and premature jubilation at their victory, saw to their astonishment and horror that the foe were regrouping about that rabble-rouser Mr Toad, and were coming up in numbers even greater than before. For the Lathbury men had been joined now by the wives and youths who had come out in expectation only of helping their injured, and by children who till then had stayed well clear of the fray.

Not only were the waiting guardians of the Chase now clearly outnumbered, but all hope of reinforcement was gone, for many of the constables had drifted down towards the bridge, and others of the High Judge’s men had done likewise, lured by the prospect of free ale.

Sensing their foe’s unease, the Lathbury men hurried to catch up with their hero Toad, who, resolute still, was marching ever nearer the waiting ranks of the enemy, with poor Mole trying to keep up with him and Nephew and Master Toad now but a short way behind.

It was when they were but a hundred yards from the enemy, that the glorious view of the higher and more distant hills and mountains to the north came in sight.

The Mole’s gaze shifted from the threat ahead, and focused on the more distant prospect, whose half-bidden vales and slopes, and steep cliffs and rises, were bathed now in an autumn evening haze, golden red, and beautiful.

“Toad!” he whispered incredulously “That vision you see there is Beyond. It is the place that Ratty and I tried to reach all those years ago, but of course we never could.”

“Beyond?” said Toad, astonished. “That is no such thing. That is Lathbury Forest, which we now own, and which is to be our new home, if only we can gain a right of access to it this day!”

“But —“ said the Mole.

“No buts, Mole, the enemy’s only just ahead!’ Then, even as the nearest of the High Judge’s men raised a stave to strike him down, Toad turned to the Lathbury men and, pointing at the summit of the Chase, commanded his followers:

“Take it in the name of freedom!”

Then Toad fell, though whether from a blow or from his own fatigue even those closest to him could not say. The hand that had pointed in the direction of victory now clutched at his chest, as he cried out: “Follow them, Mole, defeat them, do it in memory of the River Bank! Do it for Toad who was once of Toad Hall!”

Without hesitation the Mole took up his cudgel and, waving it about his head, bravely led the last charge of all, with Nephew and Master Toad and Grandson close by and the Lathbury men all about, till the High Judge’s men broke ranks and fled, and the battle was won.

A short while later, when the first flush of victory was over and the crowds upon the Chase had cheered and sung, and admired the view to Lathbury Forest so long denied them, Master Toad said suddenly, “But where’s Pater? Where is he?”

When he saw that Toad still lay where he had fallen, he ran back, followed by Nephew and Grandson, and finally, when he could break free of the admiring crowd, the Mole as well. Not long after the Badger came up to join them.

The red warm light of the setting sun was upon Toad’s face and he seemed peaceful and content as he lay with his eyes open, staring not at the celebrations upon Lathbury Chase, but towards the more distant prospect of Lathbury Forest.

He looked at the Mole and then at the others, and then back towards his new domain, and said, “Is victory ours?”

“It is Toad! O, it is!” cried the Mole. “And all thanks to you!”

“Sadly, I shall not be able to enjoy its fruits,” said Toad, sighing a good deal, and shifting about as if to ease the aches and pains of his warrior wounds.

“Why is that, Pater?” asked Master Toad.

“Because I am near death,” said Toad. “But at least I shall pass on in the knowledge —”

“O, Pater!” cried Master Toad, weeping effusively. “Please do not die!”

“Really, Toad, I do not think —“ began the Mole, but the Badger raised his hand.

“Let Master Toad handle this,” he whispered, “for I do believe he has the measure of Toad better than all of us. His tears are surely no more convincing than Toad’s sighs and groans.