THE BATTLE OF WORCESTER.
The next morning the Scotch army moved after that of Cromwell, which had
fallen back to Dunbar, and took post on the Doon hill facing him there.
Cromwell's army occupied a peninsula, having on their face a brook
running along a deep, narrow little valley. The Scotch position on the
hill was an exceedingly strong one, and had they remained there
Cromwell's army must have been driven to surrender. Cromwell himself
wrote on that night, "The enemy hath blocked up our way at the pass at
Copperspath, through which we cannot pass without almost a miracle. He
lieth so upon the hills that we knoweth not how to come that way without
much difficulty, and our lying here daily consumeth our men, who fall
sick beyond imagination."
The Scotch had, in fact, the game in their hands, had they but waited on
the ground they had taken up. The English had, however, an ally in their
camp. The Earl of Argyll strongly urged that an attack should be made
upon the English, and he was supported by the preachers and fanatics,
who exclaimed that the Lord had delivered their enemies into their
hands. General Leslie, however, stood firm. The preachers scattered in
the camp and exhorted the soldiers to go down and smite the enemy. So
great an enthusiasm did they excite by their promises of victory that in
the afternoon the soldiers, without orders from their general, moved
down the hill toward the enemy. The more regular body of the troops
stood firm, but Leslie, seeing that the preachers had got the mastery,
and that his orders were no longer obeyed, ordered these also to move
forward, in hopes that the enthusiasm which had been excited would yet
suffice to win the victory.
Cromwell saw the fatal mistake which had been committed, and in the
night moved round his troops to his left, and these at daybreak fell
upon the Scottish right. The night had been wet, and the Scottish army
were unprovided with tents. Many of their matchlocks had been rendered
useless. At daybreak on the morning of the 3d of September the English,
led by General Lambert, fell upon them. The Scotch for a time stood
their ground firmly; but the irregular troops, who had by their folly
led the army into this plight, gave way before the English pikemen. The
preachers, who were in vast numbers, set the example of flight. Many of
the regiments of infantry fought most fiercely, but the battle was
already lost. The Scotch cavalry were broken by the charge of the
Ironsides, and in less than an hour from the commencement of the
fighting the rout was complete. Three thousand Scotch were killed, and
ten thousand taken prisoners.
Harry's regiment was but slightly engaged. It had been one of the last
to march down the hill on the evening before, and Harry and Jacob
foresaw the disaster which would happen. "If I were the king," Harry
said, "I would order every one of these preachers out of camp, and would
hang those who disobeyed. Then I would march the army on to the hill
again. If they wait there the English must attack us with grievous
disadvantage, or such as cannot get on board their ships must surrender.
Charles would really be king then, and could disregard the wrath of the
men of the conventicles. Cromwell will attack us to-morrow, and will
defeat us; his trained troops are more than a match for these Scotchmen,
who think more of their preachers than of their officers, and whose
discipline is of the slackest."
"I agree with you entirely," Jacob said. "But in the present mood of the
army, I believe that half of them would march away if the general
dismissed the preachers."
The next day, when the fight began, Harry moved forward his regiment to
the support of the Scottish right, but before he came fairly into the
fray this had already given away, and Harry, seeing that the day was
lost, halted his men, and fell back in good order. Again and again the
Ironsides charged them. The leveled pikes and heavy musketry fire each
time beat them off, and they marched from the field almost the only body
which kept its formation. Five thousand of the country people among the
prisoners Cromwell allowed to depart to their homes. The remainder he
sent to Newcastle, where great numbers of them were starved to death by
the cruelty of the governor, Sir Arthur Hazelrig. The remainder were
sent as slaves to New England.
Leslie, with the wreck of his army, fell back to Stirling, while
Charles, with the Scotch authorities, went to Perth. Here the young
king, exasperated beyond endurance at the tyranny of Argyll and the
fanatics, escaped from them, and with two or three friends rode fifty
miles north. He was overtaken and brought back to Perth, but the anger
of the army was so hot at his treatment that the fanatics were
henceforth obliged to put a curb upon themselves, and a strong king's
party, as opposed to that of the Covenant, henceforth guided his
counsels.
The winter passed quietly. The English troops were unable to stand the
inclemency of the climate, and contented themselves with capturing
Edinburgh Castle, and other strongholds south of the Forth. Cromwell was
compelled by ill health to return for some months to England. Leslie's
army was strongly intrenched round Stirling. In June Cromwell again took
the field, and moved against Perth, which he captured on the 31st of
July. Charles, who had joined his army at Stirling, broke up his camp
and marched toward England, the road being open to him owing to Cromwell
and his army being further north at Perth.
During the time which had elapsed since the battle of Dunbar no events
had happened in Harry's life. Remaining quietly in camp, where the
troops, who had been disgusted by the conduct of the fanatics at Dunbar,
were now ill disposed toward Argyll and his party, he had little fear of
the machinations of the earl, who was with the king at Perth.
Argyll refused to join in the southern march, and the army with which
Leslie entered England numbered only eleven thousand men. As soon as he
crossed the border, Charles was proclaimed king, and proclamations were
issued calling on all loyal subjects to join him.
The people were, however, weary of civil war. The Royalists had already
suffered so heavily that they held back now, and the hatred excited,
alike by the devastations of the Scotch army on its former visit to
England, and by the treachery with which they had then sold the king,
deterred men from joining them. A few hundred, indeed, came to his
standard; but upon the other hand, Lambert and Harrison, with a strong
force, were marching against him, and Cromwell, having left six thousand
men in Scotland, under Monk, was pressing hotly behind with the victors
of Dunbar. On the 22d of August Charles reached Worcester. On the 28th
Cromwell was close to the town with thirty thousand men.
"This is the end of it all, Jacob," Harry said that night. "They
outnumber us by three to one, and even if equal, they would assuredly
beat us, for the Scotch are dispirited at finding themselves so far from
home, in a hostile country. Things look desperate. If all is lost
to-morrow, do you and William Long and Mike keep close to me. Get a
horse for Mike to-night. You and Long are already mounted. If all is
lost we must try and make our way to the seacoast, and take boat for
France or Holland. But first of all we must see to the safety of the
king. It is clear that at present England is not ready to return to the
former state of things. We must hope that some day she will weary of the
Roundhead rule, and if the king can reach the Continent he must remain
there till England calls him. At present she only wants peace. It is
just nine years now since King Charles' father set up his standard at
Nottingham. Nine years of wars and troubles! No wonder men are aweary of
it. It is all very well for us, Jacob, who have no wives, neither
families nor occupations, and are without property to lose, but I wonder
not that men who have these things are chary of risking them in a cause
which seems destined to failure."
Upon the 3d of September, 1651, the anniversary of the battle of Dunbar,
Cromwell advanced to the attack. Harry's regiment was placed among some
hedges around the city, and upon them the brunt of the fight first fell.
In spite of the immense numbers brought against them they defended
themselves with desperate bravery. Some of the Scottish troops came up,
and for a time Cromwell's footmen could make but little way. At other
parts, however, the resistance was more feeble, and the Scotch fell
rapidly into confusion. Contesting every foot of the way, Harry's
regiment was driven back into the town, where a terrible confusion
reigned. Still keeping his men together, he marched to the marketplace.
Here he found the king with a considerable body of horse. The greater
part, however, of the horse had fled through the town without drawing
rein, while the foot were throwing away their arms and flying in all
directions.
"If all my troops had fought like your regiment, Colonel Furness, we
should have won the day," the king said. "As it is now, it is a hopeless
rout. It is useless for your brave fellows to throw away their lives
further. They will only be cut down vainly, seeing that the rest of my
army are disbanded. Thank them from me for their services, and bid them
seek their homes as best they may and wait for better times. They are
English, and will meet with better treatment from the country people
than will the Scotch. Then do you join me. I am going to head my
horsemen here in a charge against the Roundhead cavalry, and so give
more time for the army to get away."
Harry rode up to his troops, now reduced to half their former strength.
Leslie and Grahame had both been killed, and William Long was sorely
wounded. He gave the men the message from the king, and the brave
fellows gave a cheer for King Charles, the last he was to hear for ten
years. Then they marched away in orderly array, with their arms,
intending to beat off all who might attack them before nightfall, and
then to break up and scatter, each for himself. William Long had friends
near Gloucester, and as his wound would prevent him from traveling
rapidly with Harry, he took farewell of him, and rode away with the
regiment. Harry, with Jacob and Mike, rejoined the king, and they rode
toward the gate by which the Roundhead troops were already entering the
town. The horsemen, however, had but little stomach for the fight, and
as the king advanced, in twos and threes they turned their horses'
heads and rode off.
Harry was riding close to the king, and looking round said at length,
"It is useless, your majesty. There are not a dozen men with us."
The king looked round and checked his horse. Besides his personal
friends, Buckingham, Wilmot, and one or two other nobles, scarce a man
remained. The king shrugged his shoulders. "Well, gentlemen, as we
cannot fight, we must needs run." Then the party turned their horses and
galloped out on the other side of Worcester. The country was covered
with fugitives. They soon came upon a considerable body of horse, who at
once attached themselves to the party. "These, gentlemen," the king
said, "would not fight when I wanted them to, and now that I would fain
be alone, they follow me."
At last, when darkness came on, the king, with his personal friends and
some sixty others, slipped away down a by-road, and after riding for
some hours came to a house called the White Ladies. Here for a few hours
they rested. Then a council was held. They had news that on a heath near
were some three thousand Scotch cavalry. The king's friends urged him to
join these and endeavor to make his way back into Scotland, but Charles
had already had more than enough of that country, and he was sure that
Argyll and his party would not hesitate to deliver him up to the
Parliament, as they had done his father before him. He therefore
determined to disguise himself, and endeavor to escape on foot, taking
with him only a guide. The rest of the party agreed to join the Scotch
horse, and endeavor to reach the border. After a consultation with
Jacob, Harry determined to follow the example of the king, and to try
and make his way in disguise to a seaport. He did not believe that the
Scotch cavalry would be able to regain their country, nor even if they
did would his position be improved were he with them. With the
destruction of the Royalist army, Argyll would again become supreme, and
Harry doubted not that he would satisfy his old grudge against him. He
was right in his anticipations. The Scots were a day or two later routed
by the English horse, and comparatively few of them ever regained their
country. Out of the eleven thousand men who fought at Worcester, seven
thousand were taken prisoners, including the greater part of the
Scottish contingent. The English, attracting less hostility and
attention from the country people, for the most part reached their homes
in safety.
As soon as the king had ridden off, Harry with Jacob and Mike, started
in another direction. Stopping at a farmhouse, they purchased from the
master three suits of clothes. Harry's was one of the farmer's own, the
man being nearly his own size. For Jacob, who was much shorter, a dress,
cloak and bonnet of the farmer's wife was procured, and for Mike the
clothes of one of the farmer's sons. One of the horses was left here,
and a pillion obtained for the other. Putting on these disguises, Harry
mounted his horse, with Jacob seated behind him on a pillion, while Mike
rode by his side. They started amid the good wishes of the farmer and
his family, who were favorable to the Royalist cause. Harry had cut off
his ringlets, and looked the character of a young farmer of twenty-four
or twenty-five years old well enough, while Jacob had the appearance of
a suitable wife for him. Mike was to pass as his brother.
In the course of the first day's journey they met several parties of
Roundhead horse, who plied them with questions as to whether they had
seen any parties of fugitives. Making a detour, they rode toward
Gloucester, not intending to enter that town, where there was a
Parliamentary garrison, but to cross the river higher up. They stopped
for the night at a wayside inn, where they heard much talk concerning
the battle, and learned that all the fords were guarded to prevent
fugitives crossing into Wales, and that none might pass who could not
give a good account of themselves. They heard, too, that on the evening
before a proclamation had been made at Gloucester and other towns
offering a reward of a thousand pounds for the capture of Charles, and
threatening all with the penalties of treason who should venture to aid
or shelter him; a systematic watch was being set on all the roads.
They determined to ride again next morning toward Worcester, and to
remain in that neighborhood for some days, judging that less inquiry
would be made there than elsewhere. This they did, but journeyed very
slowly, and slept a mile or two from Worcester.
Before reaching their halting-place they took off a shoe from Mike's
horse, and with a nail wounded the frog of the foot, so that the animal
walked lame. Under this pretense they stopped three days, feigning great
annoyance at the delay. They found now that orders had been issued that
none should journey on the roads save those who had passes, and these
had to be shown before entering any of the large towns. They therefore
resolved to leave their horses, and to proceed on foot, as they could
then travel by byways and across the country. There was some debate as
to the best guise in which to travel, but it was presently determined to
go as Egyptians, as the gypsies were then called. Harry walked into
Worcester, and there, at the shop of a dealer in old clothes, procured
such garments as were needed, and at an apothecary's purchased some dyes
for staining the skin.
The next day, telling the landlord that they should leave the lame
horse with him until their return, they started as before, Mike walking
instead of riding. They presently left the main road, and finding a
convenient place in a wood, changed their attire. Harry and Mike were
dressed in ragged clothes, with bright handkerchiefs round their necks,
and others round their heads. Jacob still retained his attire as a
woman, with a tattered shawl round his shoulders, and a red handkerchief
over his head. All darkened their faces and hands. They took the saddle
from the horse, and placed the bundles, containing the clothes they had
taken off, on his back. Mike took the bridle, Harry and Jacob walked
beside, and so they continued for some miles along the lonely roads,
until they came to a farmhouse. Here they stopped. The farmer came out,
and roughly demanded what they wanted. Harry replied that he wanted to
sell their horse, and would take a small sum for it.
"I doubt me," the farmer said, looking at it, "that that horse was not
honestly come by. It suits not your condition. It may well be," he said,
"the horse of some officer who was slain at Worcester, and which you
have found roaming in the country."
"It matters not," Harry said, "where I got it; it is mine now, and may
be yours if you like it, cheap. As you say, its looks agree not with
mine, and I desire not to be asked questions. If you will give me that
donkey I see there, and three pounds, you shall have him."
The offer was a tempting one, but the farmer beat them down a pound
before he agreed to it. Then shifting their bundles to the donkey, they
continued their way. At the next village they purchased a cooking-pot
and some old stuff for a tent. Cutting some sticks, they encamped that
night on some wild land hard by, having purchased provisions for their
supper. Very slowly they traveled south, attracting no attention as
they passed. They avoided all large towns, and purchased such things as
they needed at villages, always camping out on commons and waste places.
They could hear no news of the king at any of their halting-places. That
he had not been taken was certain; also, that he had not reached France,
or the news of his coming there would have been known. It was generally
supposed that he was in hiding somewhere in the south, hoping to find an
opportunity to take ship to France. Everywhere they heard of the active
search which was being made for him, and how the houses of all suspected
to be favorable to him were being searched.
Traveling only a few miles a day, and frequently halting for two or
three days together, the party crossed the Thames above Reading, and
journeyed west into Wiltshire. So they went on until they reached the
port of Charmouth, near Lime Regis. Here, as in all the seaport towns,
were many soldiers of the Parliament. They did not enter the town, but
encamped a short distance outside, Harry alone going in to gather the
news. He found that numerous rumors concerning the king were afloat. It
was asserted that he had been seen near Bristol, and failing to embark
there, was supposed to be making his way east along the coast, in hopes
of finding a ship. The troops were loud in their expressions of
confidence that in a few days, if not in a few hours, he would be in
their hands, and that he would be brought to the scaffold, as his father
had been.
Uneasy at the news, Harry wandered about the town, and at nightfall
entered a small public house near the port. Calling for some liquor, he
sat down, and listened to the talk of the sailors. Presently these left,
and soon after they did so three other men entered. One was dressed as a
farmer, the other two as serving-men. Harry thought that he noticed a
glance of recognition pass between the farmer and the landlord, and as
the latter placed some liquor and a candle on the table before the
newcomers, Harry recognized in the farmer Colonel Wyndham, a Royalist
with whom he was well acquainted. He now looked more closely at the two
serving-men, and recognized in them the king and Lord Wilmot.
He sauntered across the room as if to get a light for his pipe, and
said, in low tones:
"Colonel Wyndham, I am Harry Furness. Is there any way I can serve his
majesty?"
"Ah! Colonel Furness, I am glad to see you," the king said heartily;
"though if you are hunted as shrewdly as I am, your state is a perilous
one."
"The landlord is to be trusted," Colonel Wyndham said. "We had best call
him in. He said nothing before you, deeming you a stranger."
The landlord was called in, and told Harry was a friend, whereupon he
barred the door and closed the shutters, as if for the night. Then
turning to Colonel Wyndham, whom alone he knew, he said:
"I am sorry to say that my news is bad, sir. An hour since I went round
to the man who had engaged to take you across to St. Malo, but his wife
has got an inkling of his intentions. She has locked him into his room,
and swears that if he attempts to come forth she will give the alarm to
the Parliament troops; for that she will not have herself and her
children sacrificed by meddlings of his in the affairs of state."