"What can we do for a Beverley? Let us know, that we may show our
feelings towards his father's memory?"
"All I request is, that your majesty will allow me to be near you in the
hour of danger," replied Edward.
"A right Beverley reply," said the king, "and so we shall see to it,
Middleton."
After a few more courteous words from his majesty they withdrew; but
General Middleton was recalled by the king for a minute or two to
receive his commands. When he rejoined Edward and Chaloner, he said to
Edward--
"I have orders to send in for his majesty's signature your commission as
captain of horse, and attached to the king's personal staff; it is a
high compliment to the memory of your father, sir, and, I may add, your
own personal appearance. Chaloner will see to your uniforms and
accoutrements; you are well mounted, I believe you have no time to lose,
as we march to-morrow for Warrington, in Cheshire."
"Has anything been heard of the Parliamentary army?"
"Yes; they are on the march towards London by the Yorkshire road,
intending to cut us off if they can. And now, gentlemen, farewell; for
I have no idle time, I assure you."
Edward was soon equipped, and now attended upon the king. When they
arrived at Warrington they found a body of horse drawn up to oppose
their passage onwards. These were charged, and fled with a trifling
loss; and as they were known to be commanded by Lambert, one of
Cromwell's best generals, there was great exultation in the king's army;
but the fact was that Lambert had acted upon Cromwell's orders, which
were, to harass and delay the march of the king as much as possible, but
not to risk with his small force anything like an engagement. After
this skirmish it was considered advisable to send back the Earl of Derby
and many other officers of importance into Lancashire, that they might
collect the king's adherents in that quarter and in Cheshire.
Accordingly the earl, with about two hundred officers and gentlemen,
left the army with that intention. It was then considered that it would
be advisable to march the army direct to London; but the men were so
fatigued with the rapidity of the march up to the present time, and the
weather was so warm, that it was decided in the negative; and as
Worcester was a town well affected to the king, and the country abounded
with provisions, it was resolved that the army should march there, and
wait for English reinforcements. This was done; the city opened the
gates with every mark of satisfaction, and supplied the army with all
that it required. The first bad news which reached them was the
dispersion and defeat of the whole of the Earl of Derby's party by a
regiment of militia, which had surprised them at Wigan during the night,
when they were all asleep, and had no idea that any enemy was near to
them. Although attacked at such a disadvantage, they defended
themselves till a large portion of them were killed, and the remainder
were taken prisoners, and most of them brutally put to death. The Earl
of Derby was made a prisoner, but not put to death with the others.
"This is bad news, Chaloner," said Edward.
"Yes; it is more than bad," replied the latter; "we have lost our best
officers, who never should have left the army; and now, the consequences
of the defeat will be that we shall not have any people coming forward
to join us. The winning side is the right side in this world; and there
is more evil than that: the Duke of Buckingham has claimed the command
of the army, which the king has refused; so that we are beginning to
fight among ourselves. General Lesley is evidently dispirited, and
thinks bad of the cause. Middleton is the only man who does his duty.
Depend upon it we shall have Cromwell upon us before we are aware of it;
and we are in a state of sad confusion--officers quarrelling, men
disobedient, much talking, and little doing. Here we have been five
days, and the works, which have been proposed to be thrown up as
defences, not yet begun."
"I cannot but admire the patience of the king, with so much to harass
and annoy him."
"He must be patient, perforce," replied Chaloner; "he plays for a crown,
and it is a high stake; but he cannot command the minds of men, although
he may the persons. I am no croaker, Beverley; but this I do say, that
if we succeed with this army, as it is at present disorganised, we shall
perform a miracle."
"We must hope for the best," replied Edward; "common danger may cement
those who would otherwise be asunder; and when they have the army of
Cromwell before them, they may be induced to forget their private
quarrels and jealousies and unite in the good cause."
"I wish I could be of your opinion, Beverley," replied Chaloner; "but I
have mixed with the world longer than you have, and I think otherwise."
Several more days passed, during which no defences were thrown up, and
the confusion and quarrelling in the army continued to increase, until
at last news arrived that Cromwell was within half a day's march of
them, and that he had collected all the militia on his route, and was
now in numbers nearly double to those in the king's army. All was
amazement and confusion--nothing had been done--no arrangements had been
made--and Chaloner told Edward that all was lost if immediate steps were
not taken.
On the 3rd of October the army of Cromwell appeared in sight. Edward
had been on horseback, attending the king, for the best part of the
night; the disposition of the troops had been made as well as it could;
and it was concluded, as Cromwell's army remained quiet, that no attempt
would be made on that day. About noon the king returned to his lodging,
to take some refreshment after his fatigue. Edward was with him; but
before an hour had passed the alarm came that the armies were engaged.
The king mounted his horse, which was ready saddled at the door; but
before he could ride out of the city he was met and nearly beaten back
by the whole body almost of his own cavalry, who came running on with
such force that he could not stop them. His majesty called to several
of the officers by name, but they paid no attention; and so great was
the panic, that both the king, and his staff who attended him, were
nearly overthrown and trampled under foot.
Cromwell had passed a large portion of his troops over the river without
the knowledge of his opponents, and when the attack was made in so
unexpected a quarter a panic ensued. Where General Middleton and the
Duke of Hamilton commanded, a very brave resistance was made; but
Middleton being wounded, and the Duke of Hamilton having had his leg
taken off by a round shot, and many gentlemen having fallen, the troops,
deserted by the remainder of the army, at last gave way, and the rout
was general, the foot throwing away their muskets before they were
discharged.
His majesty rode back into the town and found a body of horse, who had
been persuaded by Chaloner to make a stand. "Follow me," said his
majesty, "we will see what the enemy are about. I do not think they
pursue, and if so, we may yet rally from this foolish panic."
His majesty, followed by Edward, Chaloner, and several of his personal
staff, then galloped out to reconnoitre; but to his mortification he
found that the troops had not followed him, but gone out of the town by
the other gate, and that the enemy's cavalry in pursuit were actually in
the town. Under such circumstances, by the advice of Chaloner and
Edward, his majesty withdrew, and turning his horse's head he made all
haste to leave Worcester. After several hours' riding, the king found
himself in company of about 4000 of the cavalry who had so disgracefully
fled; but they were still so panic-struck that he could put no
confidence in them, and having advised with those about him he resolved
to quit them. This he did without mentioning his intentions to any of
his staff, not even Chaloner or Edward, leaving at night with two of his
servants, whom he dismissed as soon as it was daylight, considering that
his chance of escape would be greater if he was quite alone.
It was not till next morning that the troops discovered that the king
had left them, and then they determined to separate, and as the major
portion were from Scotland to make what haste they could back to that
country. And now Chaloner and Edward consulted as to their plans.
"It appears to me," said Edward, laughing, "that the danger of this
campaign of ours will consist in getting back again to our own homes;
for I can most safely assert that I have not as yet struck a blow for
the king."
"That is true enough, Beverley. When do you purpose going back to the
New Forest? I think, if you will permit me, I will accompany you," said
Chaloner. "All the pursuit will be to the northward to intercept and
overtake the retreat into Scotland. I cannot therefore go to
Lancashire; and indeed, as they know that I am out, they will be looking
for me everywhere."
"Then come with me," said Edward; "I will find you protection till you
can decide what to do. Let us ride on away from this, and we will talk
over the matter as we go; but depend upon it, the farther south we get
the safer we shall be; but still not safe, unless we can change our
costume. There will be a strict search for the king to the south, as
they will presume that he will try to get safe to France. Hark! What
is that? I heard the report of arms. Let us ride up this hill and see
what is going on."
They did so, and perceived that there was a skirmish between a party of
Cavaliers and some of the Parliamentary cavalry at about a quarter of a
mile distant.
"Come, Chaloner, let us at all events have one blow," said Edward.
"Agreed," replied Chaloner, spurring his horse; and down they went at
full speed, and in a minute were in the _melee_, coming on the rear of
the Parliamentary troops.
This sudden attack from behind decided the affair. The Parliamentary
troopers, thinking that there were wore than two coming upon them, made
off after another minute's combat, leaving five or six of their men on
the ground.
"Thanks, Chaloner thanks, Beverley!" said a voice, which they
immediately recognised. It was that of one of the king's pages. "These
fellows with me were just about to run if you had not come to our aid.
I will remain with them no longer, but join you if you will permit me."
"At all events remain here till they go away--I will send them off."
"My lads, you must all separate, or there will be no chance of escape.
No more than two should ride together. Depend upon it we shall have
more of the troops here directly."
The men, about fifteen in number, who had been in company with
Grenville, considered that Chaloner's advice was good, and without
ceremony set off with their horses' heads to the northward, leaving
Chaloner, Edward, and Grenville together on the field of the affray. A
dozen men were lying on the ground, either dead or severely wounded;
seven of them were of the king's party, and the other five of the
Parliamentary troops.
"Now what I propose," said Edward, "is this,--let us do what we can for
those who are wounded, and then strip off the dresses and accoutrements
of those Parliamentary dragoons who are dead, and dress ourselves in
them, accoutrements and all. We can then pass through the country in
safety, as we shall be supposed to be one of the parties looking for the
king."
"That is a good idea," replied Chaloner, "and the sooner it is done the
better."
"Well," said Edward, wiping his sword, which he still held drawn, and
then sheathing it, "I will take the spoils of this fellow nearest to me:
he fell by my hand, and I am entitled to them by all the laws of war and
chivalry; but first let us dismount and look to the wounded."
They tied their horses to a tree, and having given what assistance they
could to the wounded men, they proceeded to strip three of the
Parliamentary troopers; and then, laying aside their own habiliments,
they dressed themselves in the uniform of the enemy, and mounting their
horses made all haste from the place. Having gained about twelve miles,
they pulled up and rode at a more leisurely pace. It was now eight
o'clock in the evening, but still not very dark; they therefore rode on
another five miles, till they came to a small village, where they
dismounted at an ale-house, and put their horses into the stable.
"We must be insolent and brutal in our manners, or we shall be
suspected."
"Very true," said Grenville, giving the ostler a kick and telling him to
bestir himself if he did not want his ears cropped.
They entered the ale-house, and soon found out they were held in great
terror. They ordered everything of the best to be produced, and
threatened to set fire to the house if it was not; they turned the man
and his wife out of their bed, and all three went to sleep in it; and,
in short, they behaved in such an arbitrary manner that nobody doubted
that they were Cromwell's men. In the morning they set off again, by
Chaloner's advice paying for nothing that they had ordered, although
they had all of them plenty of money. They now rode fast, inquiring at
the places which they passed through whether any fugitives had been
seen, and if they came to a town, inquiring, before they entered,
whether there were any Parliamentary troops. So well did they manage,
that after four days they had gained the skirts of the New Forest, and
concealed themselves in a thicket till night-time, when Edward proposed
that he should conduct his fellow-travellers to the cottage, where he
would leave them till his plans were arranged.
Edward had already arranged his plans. His great object was to ward off
any suspicion of where he had been, and of course any idea that the
Intendant had been a party to his acts; and the fortunate change of his
dress enabled him now to do so with success. He had decided to conduct
his two friends to the cottage that night, and the next morning to ride
over in his Parliamentary costume to the Intendant's house, and bring
the first news of the success of Cromwell and the defeat at Worcester;
by which stratagem it would appear as if he had been with the
Parliamentary, and not with the Royalist army.
As they had travelled along, they found that the news of Cromwell's
success had not yet arrived: in those times there was not the rapidity
of communication that we now have, and Edward thought it very probable
that he would be the first to communicate the intelligence to the
Intendant and those who resided near him.
As soon as it was dusk the three travellers left their retreat, and,
guided by Edward, soon arrived at the cottage. Their appearance at
first created no little consternation, for Humphrey and Pablo happened
to be in the yard when they heard the clattering of the swords and
accoutrements, and through the gloom observed, as they advanced, that
the party were troopers. At first Humphrey was for running on and
barring the door, but, on a second reflection, he felt that he could not
do a more imprudent thing, if there was danger; and he therefore
contented himself with hastily imparting the intelligence to his
sisters, and then remaining at the threshold to meet the coming of the
parties. The voice of Edward calling him by name dissipated all alarm,
and in another minute he was in the arms of his brother and sisters.
"First let us take our horses to the stable, Humphrey," said Edward,
after the first greeting was over, "and then we will come and partake of
anything that Alice can prepare for us, for we have not fared over well
for the last three days."
Accompanied by Humphrey and Pablo, they all went to the stables, and
turned out the ponies to make room for the horses; and as soon as they
were all fed and littered down they returned to the cottage, and
Chaloner and Grenville were introduced. Supper was soon on the table,
and they were too hungry to talk while they were eating, so but little
information was gleaned from them that night. However, previous to
Alice and Edith leaving the room to prepare beds for the newcomers,
Humphrey ascertained that all was lost, and that they had escaped from
the field. When the beds were ready, Chaloner and Grenville retired,
and then Edward remained half an hour with Humphrey, to communicate to
him what had passed. Of course he could not enter into detail; but told
him that he would get information from their new guests after he had
left, which he must do early in the morning.
"And now, Humphrey, my advice is this: My two friends cannot remain in
this cottage, for many reasons; but we have the key of Clara's cottage,
and they can take up their lodging there, and we can supply them with
all they want until they find means of going abroad, which is their
intention. I must be off to the Intendant's to-morrow, and the day
after I will come over to you. In the meantime our guests can remain
here, while you and Pablo prepare the cottage for them; and when I
return everything shall be settled, and we will conduct them to it. I
do not think there is much danger of their being discovered while they
remain there, certainly not so much as if they were here; for we must
expect parties of troops in every direction now, as they were when the
king's father made his escape from Hampton Court. And now to bed, my
good brother; and call me early, for I much fear that I shall not wake
up, if you do not."
The brothers then parted for the night.
The next morning, long before their guests were awake, Edward had been
called by Humphrey, and found Pablo at the door with his horse. Edward,
who had put on his Parliamentary accoutrements, bade a hasty farewell to
them, and set off across the forest to the house of the Intendant, where
he arrived before they had left their bedrooms. The first person he
encountered was, very fortunately, Oswald, who was at his cottage-door.
Edward beckoned to him, being then about one hundred yards off; but
Oswald did not recognise him at first, and advanced towards him in a
very leisurely manner, to ascertain what the trooper might wish to
inquire. But Edward called him Oswald, and that was sufficient. In few
words Edward told him how all was lost, and how he had escaped by
changing clothes with one of the enemy.
"I am now come to bring the news to the Intendant, Oswald. You
understand me, of course?"
"Of course I do, Master Edward, and will take care that it is well-known
that you have been fighting by the side of Cromwell all this time. I
should recommend you to show yourself in this dress for the remainder of
the day, and then every one will be satisfied. Shall I go to the
Intendant's before you?"
"No, no, Oswald; the Intendant does not require me to be introduced to
him, of course. I must now gallop up to his house and announce myself.
Farewell for the present--I shall see you during the day."
Edward put spurs to his horse, and arrived at the Intendant's at full
speed, making no small clattering in the yard below as he went in, much
to the surprise of Sampson, who came out to ascertain what was the
cause, and who was not a little surprised at perceiving Edward, who
threw himself off the horse, and desiring Sampson to take it to the
stable, entered the kitchen, and disturbed Phoebe, who was preparing
breakfast. Without speaking to her, Edward passed on to the Intendant's
room, and knocked.
"_Who_ is there?" said the Intendant.
"Edward Armitage," was the reply, and the door was opened. The
Intendant started back at the sight of Edward in the trooper's costume.
"My dear Edward, I am glad to see you in any dress; but this requires
explanation. Sit down and tell me all."
"All is soon told, sir," replied Edward, taking off his iron skull-cap,
and allowing his hair to fall down on his shoulders.
He then, in few words, stated what had happened, and by what means he
had escaped, and the reason why he had kept on the trooper's
accoutrements and made his appearance in them.
"You have done very prudently," replied the Intendant, "and you have
probably saved me; at all events you have warded off all suspicion, and
those who are spies upon me will now have nothing to report except to my
favour. Your absence has been commented upon, and made known at high
quarters, and suspicion has arisen in consequence. Your return as one
of the Parliamentary forces will now put an end to all ill-natured
remarks. My dear Edward, you have done me a service. As my secretary,
and having been known to have been a follower of the Beverleys, your
absence was considered strange, and it was intimated at high quarters
that you had gone to join the king's forces, and that with my knowledge
and consent. This I have from Langton; and it has in consequence
injured me not a little: but now your appearance will make all right
again. Now we will first to prayers, and then to breakfast; and after
that we will have a more detailed account of what has taken place since
your departure. Patience and Clara will not be sorry to recover their
companion; but how they will like you in that dress I cannot pretend to
say. However, I thank God that you have returned safe to us; and I
shall be most happy to see you once more attend in the more peaceful
garb of a secretary."
"I will, with your permission, sir, not quit this costume for one day,
as it may be as well that I should be seen in it."
"You are right, Edward: for this day retain it; to-morrow you will
resume your usual costume. Go down to the parlour; you will find
Patience and Clara anxiously waiting for you, I have no doubt. I will
join you there in ten minutes."
Edward left the room, and went downstairs. It hardly need be said how
joyfully he was received by Patience and Clara. The former, however,
expressed her joy in tears--the latter in wild mirth.
We will pass over the explanations and the narrative of what had
occurred, which was given by Edward to Mr Heatherstone in his own room.
The Intendant said, as he concluded--
"Edward, you must now perceive that, for the present, nothing more can
be done; if it pleases the Lord, the time will come when the monarch
will be reseated on his throne; at present, we must bow to the powers
that be; and I tell you frankly it is my opinion that Cromwell aims at
sovereignty, and will obtain it. Perhaps it may be better that we
should suffer the infliction for a time, as for a time only can it be
upheld, and it may be the cause of the king being more schooled and more
fitted to reign than, by what you have told me in the course of your
narrative, he at present appears to be."
"Perhaps so, sir," replied Edward. "I must say that the short campaign
I have gone through has very much opened my eyes. I have seen but
little true chivalric feeling, and much of interested motives, in those
who have joined the king's forces. The army collected was composed of
most discordant elements, and were so discontented, so full of jealousy
and ill-will, that I am not surprised at the result. One thing is
certain, that there must be a much better feeling existing between all
parties, before such a man as Cromwell can ever be moved from his
position; and, for the present, the cause may be considered as lost."
"You are right, Edward," replied the Intendant; "I would they were
better; but, as they are, let us make the best of them. You have now
seen enough to have subdued that fiery zeal for the cause which
previously occupied your whole thoughts; now let us be prudent, and try
if we cannot be happy."