Grand tours: Boy meets girl (and 30 murdering thieves)

The world's great writers and their adventures in literature. R D Blackmore sets a star-crossed romance on Exmoor

Richard Dodderidge Blackmore was born in Berkshire in 1825 and lived for most of his life in Teddington, Middlesex, where he died in 1900. He spent his childhood in Devon, educated at Blundell's School in Tiverton. A shy boy with a passionate interest in wildlife and botany, he had an intimate knowledge of Exmoor which shines through 'Lorna Doone'. This novel, rejected by 18 publishers, is one of 14 by Blackmore, but it is the only one which has survived to become an English literary classic. In this extract, the hero John Ridd encounters both Lorna and the formidable Doones for the first time.

We were come to a long deep "goyal", as they call it on Exmoor, a word whose fountain and origin I have nothing to do with. Only I know that when little boys laughed at me at Tiverton, for talking about a "goyal," a big boy clouted them on the head, and said that it was in Homer, and meant the hollow of the hand. And another time a Welshman told me that it must be something like the thing they call a "pant" in those parts. Still I know what it means well enough – to wit, a long trough among wild hills, falling towards the plain country, rounded at the bottom, perhaps, and stiff, more than steep, at the sides of it. Whether it be straight or crooked, makes no difference to it.

We rode very carefully down our side, and through the soft grass at the bottom, and all the while we listened as if the air was a speaking-trumpet. Then gladly we breasted our nags to the rise, and were coming to the comb of it, when I heard something, and caught John's arm, and he bent his hand to the shape of his ear. It was the sound of horses' feet knocking up through splashy ground, as if the bottom sucked them. Then a grunting of weary men, and the lifting noise of stirrups, and sometimes the clank of iron mixed with the wheezy croning of leather and the blowing of hairy nostrils. "God's sake, Jack, slip round her belly, and let her go where she wull."

As John Fry whispered, so I did, for he was off Smiler by this time; but our two pads were too fagged to go far, and began to nose about and crop, sniffing more than they need have done. I crept to John's side very softly, with the bridle on my arm.

"Let goo braidle; let goo, lad. Plaise God they take them for forest-ponies, or they'll zend a bullet through us."

I saw what he meant, and let go the bridle; for now the mist was rolling off, and we were against the skyline to the dark cavalcade below us. John lay on the ground by a barrow of heather, where a little gullet was, and I crept to him, afraid of the noise I made in dragging my legs along, and the creak of my cord breeches. John bleated like a sheep to cover it – a sheep very cold and trembling.

Then just as the foremost horseman passed, scarce twenty yards below us, a puff of wind came up the glen, and the fog rolled off before it. And suddenly a strong red light, cast by the cloud-weight downwards, spread like fingers over the moorland, opened the alleys of darkness, and hung on the steel of the riders. "Dunkery Beacon," whispered John, so close into my ear, that I felt his lips and teeth ashake; "dursn't fire it now except to show the Doones way home again, since the naight as they went up and throwed the watchmen atop of it. Why, wutt be 'bout, lad? God's sake –"

For I could keep still no longer, but wriggled away from his arm, and along the little gullet, still going flat on my breast and thighs, until I was under a grey patch of stone, with a fringe of dry fern round it; there I lay, scarce twenty feet above the heads of the riders, and I feared to draw my breath, though prone to do it with wonder.

For now the beacon was rushing up, in a fiery storm to heaven, and the form of its flame came and went in the folds, and the heavy sky was hovering. All around it was hung with red, deep in twisted columns, and then a giant beard of fire streamed throughout the darkness. The sullen hills were flanked with light, and the valleys chined with shadow, and all the sombrous moors between awoke in furrowed anger.

But most of all the flinging fire leaped into the rocky mouth of the glen below me, where the horsemen passed in silence, scarcely deigning to look round. Heavy men and large of stature, reckless of how they bore their guns, or how they sat their horses, with leathern jerkins, and long boots, and iron plates on breast and head, plunder heaped behind their saddles, and flagons slung in front of them; I counted more than 30 pass, like clouds upon red sunset. Some had carcasses of sheep swinging with their skins on, others had deer, and one had a child flung across his saddle-bow.

Whether the child were dead, or alive, was more than I could tell, only it hung head downwards there, and must take the chance of it. They had got the child, a very young one, for the sake of the dress, no doubt, which they could not stop to pull off from it; for the dress shone bright, where the fire struck it, as if with gold and jewels. I longed in my heart to know most sadly what they would do with the little thing, and whether they would eat it.

It touched me so to see that child, a prey among those vultures, that in my foolish rage and burning I stood up and shouted to them leaping on a rock, and raving out of all possession. Two of them turned round, and one set his carbine at me, but the other said it was but a pixie, and bade him keep his powder. Little they knew, and less thought I, that the pixie then before them would dance their castle down one day.

Follow in the footsteps of R D Blackmore

Back to the beginning

The story begins in the historic Devon village of Tiverton, on the southern edge of Exmoor. The hero, John Ridd, attends Blundell's School in Tiverton (built in 1604), which is still a school today. You can also see Tiverton's medieval castle, built in 1106 on the orders of Henry I, but the subject of several renovations since then. The guided tour will introduce you to secret passages, resident ghosts and experience the spectacular view from the top of the tower. Entrance: £3.50 adults, £2 children. An apartment within the castle walls is also available to rent, with three acres of private gardens. Prices start from £210 for one week in a self-catering apartment for two (01884 253200; www.tivertoncastle.com).

Open for business

Exmoor's scenic coastline and open moorland is once again open to visitors following the foot and mouth crisis. The dramatic landscape of Doone Country in Exmoor National Park rolls across 265 square miles of west Somerset and north Devon and offers 600 miles of public paths and bridleways. Less experienced walkers can follow the National Park Authority's designated walks. Many of Exmoor's natural landmarks feature in the novel. Dunkery Beacon, at 519 metres (1,700ft), is Exmoor's highest point. The Valley of the Rocks, west of Lynton, boasts dramatic rock formations that have been carved by erosion. For further information contact the park authority (01398 323865; www.exmoor-nationalpark.gov.uk). You can also go on an Exmoor safari and see wild red deer in their natural habitat, with Barle Valley Wildlife Safaris (01398 323699).

Click here for Lorna

The Exmoor Tourism website features an "Interactive Lorna Doone Map" which helps you locate and visit significant landmarks from the novel (www.exmoortourism.org/lornadoone/Id_frame.htm). "I never saw a prettier town than Dunster," exclaims the novel's heroine when she first sets eyes on this picturesque town. The castle, which dates back to the 13th century (only the original gateway remains) containsTudor furnishings and portraits of the Luttrell family who lived there in the 16th century. The castle itself is open from April to October, while the gardens are open all year round. Entrance: £5.50 adults, £3 children (01643 821314).

Dunster also has a working water mill and a 17th-century octagonal yarn market. Another landmark is Oare church, where Lorna is shot by Carver Doone during her wedding to John Ridd.

In memoriam

There is a memorial to Blackmore at Exeter cathedral, a 30-minute train ride from Tiverton. For more information call the cathedral (01392 214219; www.exeter-cathedral.org.uk).

Where to stay

Why not stay in Dulverton, the place where John first catches sight of Lorna? The Lonely Planet Guide to Britain recommends Town Mills (01398 323124), just off Dulverton High Street. Described by the guide as "atmospheric", it is reasonably priced at £19 per night for bed and breakfast and the open fires create a cosy winter retreat.

Alternatively, you can stay by the sea in Lynmouth. The historic Rising Sun (01598 753223) is a 14th-century inn on the harbou. Past guests have included the poet Shelley, who spent his honeymoon here with his teenage bride. Prices start from £52 per person.