“Well, if you keep me awake, Doctor, I’ll get you a pair of lawn sleeves,” laughed the Prince.
The sermon in question pleased the Prince so well that the Doctor was summoned to bid His Royal Highness
farewell
“And see here, Doctor,” he said. “ I have made two promises in this neighbourhood. One concerns you and the
other the Scarecrow. I have told that human bloodhound, Blain, that if he catches the Scarecrow I shall see to it that
the rascal does not hang. The other is what I said about your lawn sleeves. You say you are content to stay on
Romney Marsh for the rest of your ministry. If you should at any time change your mind, come to me in London,
and ask for what promotion you like, and I’ll see that you get it at once.”
Although Doctor Syn thought little of these promises at the time, the day came when he claimed them both.
5
THE SCARECROW FACES MUTINY
Although the revenue authorities were perfectly aware that the Romney Marsh Nightriders owed their continued
success to the amazing audacity of their leader, the Scarecrow, they did not know that this Phantom horseman, as
many supposed him to be, owed his safety to the extreme caution he displayed when moving amongst his
parishioners as Doctor Syn. The Vicar of Dymchurch could go out upon the Marsh by night as well as by day
without suspicion.
It was generally accepted that this Parson was a man who took his cure of souls very seriously, and to be seen
riding slowly back to his Vicarage in the early hours of the morning, was to him but an occasion for having further
blessings poured upon his head. A good man who claimed the sorrows of the humblest cottager as his own, and
regarded the lowest hovel with the same importance as he did the Court House where the Squire resided. His
genuine affection for young and old, his geniality, wisdom and uprightness, had created in the minds of all a saint
who has as great an influence upon the Marsh for good as the scarecrow had, in the same district, for evil. Even
those secret ones who were made rich by the dark activities of the Nightriders were fearful that their mysterious
leader might one day seek revenge upon their good old vicar, who considered it his duty to attack the crime
smuggling from the pulpit. But for all the Parson’s exhortations, greed, fear, and amongst the younger a love of
adventure, prevented any of the contraband runners from betraying their leader to the fearless old Doctor of Divinity
they loved.
Little did they know that all these admirable qualities in Doctor Syn ensured the safety of the Scarecrow. Only
the Sexton and the Highwayman, his close lieutenants, knew with what careful foresight the Parson proceeded to
keep his double identity secure.
His strictest rule was a complete separation of his two personalities, both so strong in their own way. And to this
end it was only in a state of great emergency that he allowed the figure of the Scarecrow to darken even secretly the
closeness of the Vicarage. As Doctor Syn he would leave his home, and as Doctor Syn he would return. What
happened to him during those absences was his own good business, and not ques tioned.
In their admiration, begrudged and yet sincere, the authorities in London wondered how the Scarecrow, with the
vast organization of hides and runners on the London road, was able to control the vaster plotting necessary across
the channel with the hated French. The luggers left some destination unknown except to him, on time and tide
which he ordained.
With French spies rife in London the Admiralty commissioned Bow Street Runners to obtain information from
these agents, not on political questions, but for some clue to lead them to the French headquarters of the scarecrow’s
shipping. That the Scarecrow had to visit France from time to time they guesses, and the packet-boats were watched
for anyone who might be him. They were cute enough to guess right. The Scarecrow did have to visit France, and
on those occasions Doctor Syn was forced to find an alibi for his clerical absence. This was simple. The Vicar of
Dymchurch was also the Dean of Peculiars, and in that capacity had to journey like bishops and archdeacons
amongst the clergy under him.
As the clergy of the Marshes affirmed in his praise, the good and generous cleric over them never grudged
spending some days in an endeavour to assist some remote parish. Therefore, when it became necessary for the
Scarecrow to visit France, Doctor Syn arranged a temporary leave from his parish in order to undertake some remote
visitation. On such occasion, Mipps accompanied him as his servant.
Doctor Syn’s parochial visitations took him frequently across the Sussex border to occupy the pulpit in the
picturesque town of Rye, in which resided many French families, descended from the Huguenot refugees, who had
never returned across the Channel. A thriving trade was done with these exiles by the onion boys, who with their
long poles and French blouses were a familiar sight to the townsfolk.
In Dymchurch, however, the onion boy was as rare a sight as an American Indian, so one day when an onion
bearer came slouching along the sea-wall and asked for the house of Monsieur Mipps, a crowd of laughing and
inquisitive school children accompanied him to the Coffin Shop, where Mipps soon sent them about their business.
Along with the sexton the boy asked, “Monsieur Mipps?” To which Mipps answered, “Monsieur Mipps, moi,
but I don’t want no onions.” From the string the boy detached one onion and handed it to the Sexton, who shook his
head emphatically.
The boy nodded vigorously and said, “Regardez.” With his little finger he pushed the on ion from the bottom,
peeled off the outer skin, and Mipps saw a small row of parchment sticking out from the top of the bulb. As he drew
it out the boy said, “L’Epouvantail.”
“And that’s Froggy for Scarecrow,” said Mipps. “A message, eh? That’s queer. Well, I’ll see it gets to him, and
find you a penny for your pains.
To make his promise good, Mipps retired to the back of the shop and found a penny from his secret store, but on
returning the onion boy had gone, and Mipps realized that he had not understood a word he had said. So with a
penny to the good he unrolled the parchment, only to find it was French writing. Curious to know what it was all
about, he decided to seek out the Vicar at once, knowing that the writing would not trouble Doctor Syn who could
write and speak French as well as English.
The Sexton found the Vicar in his study at work on a sermon, which he interrupted by telling the adventure of the
onion.
“To write letters is not encouraged in the Scarecrow’s legion.” Whispered Syn when he had signed to Mipps to
lock the door. “It must be something serious. Give it to me.”
The note was written in print hand, and Doctor Syn translated it to Mipps as he read.
“THE SCARECROW’S ORDERS FOR NEXT RUN MUST BE CANCELLED. OUR PRISONERS HAVE
MUTINIED AND SEIZED BOTH STORES AND ARMOURY. THEY DEMAND A LUGGER IN WHICH TO
RETURN TO ENGLAND AND FREEDOM. OTHERWISE THEY HOLD OUT, WHICH THEY CAN WEE DO
FOR SIX MONTHS OR MORE. THEIR ARMS COMMAND THE QUAY. THEY FIRE ON ANY MAN WHO
CROSSES IT. ANY COMMUNICATION IS MADE THROUGH THEIR WOMEN-FOLK. BY THE WAY THE
LAST PRISONER, HART, IS WITH THEM, AND HIS WIFE AND BABY REACHED HERE SAFELY. WE
CANNOT LOAD OUR CARGO. WE ARE SHORTHANDED AND UNDER THREATENED ATTACK. WE
HAVE GREAT NEED OF L’EPOUVANTAIL. YOUR SERVANT, DULOGE.”