OF THE KING'S GOING TO WORCESTER.
My father was well remembered by some of the older sort about the
King's person, as also by the Prince Rupert, elder son of the Princess
Elizabeth, and so nephew to the King, who, when he was a child, had
greatly favoured him. Hence, without any delay, he obtained the
commission of a captain of horse. Indeed, being a man of capacity and
of some experience in military matters, while most of the King's
officers were wholly raw and uninstructed in the art of war, he had
more weight in council than of right belonged to his rank; nor do I
doubt but that, had it not pleased God to order things otherwise, he
would have been promoted to a principal command. Indeed he had, very
soon after his first joining the army, the chief direction of his
regiment, the colonel being a young gentleman of quality, that had
none of the virtues belonging to a soldier save courage only, unless
it is to be counted as a virtue that he knew his own ignorance, and
gave a ready ear to the counsel of wiser men.
For myself, I gave my attention to things academical, and was a
diligent student, exercising an industry which, I make bold to say,
few others in the University excelled. This, it must be confessed, was
not altogether of my own free choice; but my father would have it so.
"Stick to your books," he would say, "son Philip, so long as you can.
Thus for the present time you will serve your cause most effectually.
If the need come for your hand, I shall not spare to call you; but
remember that it is easier to take up the sword than to lay it down."
Nevertheless, with my father's consent; that I might be ready for such
occasion when soever it might come, I learnt my exercises, both as a
foot-soldier and a trooper. (I had learnt to ride while yet a child,
perfecting myself in the art during my long compelled absence from
school in the time of the plague.) I had, through the bounty of my
father, arms of my own, namely, a steel cap, a back and breast-piece
and a pike, with the other appurtenances. We trained commonly in the
quadrangle of New College, the warden whereof, Dr. Robert Pink, deputy
vice-chancellor, was a zealous King's man. There was a school kept in
the cloisters of New College, wherein were taught first the singing
boys of the chapel (with which scarce any other in England can be
compared), and also other youth of the town. And I remember what ado
the ushers had with the lads on the training days. There was no
holding them in their school on these occasions; neither tasks nor the
terror of the lash could hinder them from seeing and following the
soldiers.
As this year (1644) went on, it was more and more manifest that the
King was in a great strait. My father would have it that he was ill
served by his advisers, especially in their continual changing of
their plans, which, when they had settled them after long and painful
debate, they would often unsettle without sufficient cause. I have,
indeed, heard him say, "If his Majesty would but trust his own
judgment, which is indeed better than can be found in many of them
that pretend to be his advisers, and having once come by a resolution
would carry it out determinately, 'twould be well for him and for his
kingdom." Whatever the cause, it came to pass that in the month of May
the King's affairs were in such ill case that he was like to be
besieged in Oxford. The forces that he had with him were scarce a
third part as numerous as those that the Parliament had arrayed
against him; nor could he look for any present help from elsewhere,
Prince Rupert being on his march to relieve my Lord Derby (besieged in
his castle of Lathom), and Prince Maurice having sat down before Lyme
in the county of Dorset, a little fisher-town which he was not like to
take, and which, if taken, had been but of small account. The King
therefore had to retire his troops from Reading. Abingdon also, which
is not more than five miles from Oxford, was abandoned, though this
was against the King's desire and even command expressly given; so
that all Berkshire now was in the hands of Parliament by their two
commanders, the Earl of Essex and Sir William Waller, and the King was
forced to draw his whole force of horse and foot on the north side of
Oxford; nay more, the Parliament came into Oxfordshire, my Lord Essex
getting over the Thames at Sandford Ferry (which is three miles away
from Oxford), and halting on Bullingdon Green, whence he sent parties
of horse up to the very gates of the city. This was on the
twenty-ninth day of May. Meanwhile Sir William Waller also had crossed
the Thames and was come as far as Eynsham, where he lay at my father's
house, but did no damage, but was, on the contrary, cause of no small
profit to John Vickers, and so through him to my father; the said John
selling to him and his company poultry and eggs and the like at such a
price as did, in a way, avenge the King's wrongs. Now, therefore, the
King was well nigh surrounded, for some of my Lord Essex's horse had
gone forward as far as Woodstock, so that there was but one vacant
space left in the circle which the enemy had not yet occupied, to wit,
between Eynsham and Woodstock, and this space was of not more than six
miles.
So desperate indeed was the situation of affairs that there were many
now who counselled the King that he should give himself up to the Earl
of Essex, to which advice he gave this answer, as my father told me
who heard the very words as they came from his mouth. "'Tis possible I
shall be found in the hands of the Earl of Essex, but I shall be dead
first."
[Illustration: _Friar Bacon's House._]
On the third day of June, at eleven of the clock in the forenoon, as I
sat in my chamber, comes my father to me. I was reading, I remember,
in the twenty-seventh book of the Histories of Livy of how the Consul
Livius made a sudden march to join forces with his colleague against
Hasdrubal, then threatening to combine his army with Hannibal's to the
great danger of the commonwealth of Rome. My father had a more
cheerful look than I had seen in him since my coming home. Indeed, he
was one of them to whom the bare prospect of danger is a singular
great delight, so that the whistling of a bullet near to him would
rouse him as a draught of wine does other men, and would change his
ordinary mood, which was somewhat grave and reserved, to a most
uncommon gaiety and mirth. Says he, "Son Philip, I see you are set to
pull down Friar Bacon's house about your ears.[3] Nevertheless, put
away your books, if you have a mind for a ride to-night. My colonel is
sick of a fever, which he contracted, I take it, from toasting the
King too zealously last night at St. John's College, where they drink
perilously deep. 'Tis not a serious ailment, but it hinders him at the
present time from the saddle; and by the King's special word I am to
have command of the regiment. Further, the King said, 'Thou wilt need
some one to carry messages and the like, a young man of courage and
discretion, and a bold rider. Dost know of such a one?' Then I
said--let it not turn your head to hear such good opinions of
yourself--'Sire, I have a son who would do his utmost to please your
Majesty.' Then he would know who you were; but when he heard that you
were a scholar, his face clouded somewhat, and he said, 'A scholar is
best at his books. 'Tis not the least evil of this most unhappy war
that it has changed this seat of learning into a barrack of soldiers.
Where shall I find preachers and counsellors if I turn my scholars
into troopers?' But when I told his Majesty that you were diligent at
your books, he said, 'Well, if the lad will take this ride as a
holiday and return hereafter to his books, it shall be as you wish.
Will you answer for him?' And when I said that I would it was settled
that you should come. But mind, son Philip, that you do not falsify my
word. And now I will have a word with Master Hood, your Rector, for
the King has promised that you shall have dispensation for the rest of
your term if perchance you have not kept it." And, indeed, I had kept
but half of Trinity term, which begins on the Wednesday after Whit
Sunday. The Rector made no hindrance, being always amenable to them
that are in authority. Only he would not give me permission to be
absent under his hand, which my father would gladly have had. "'Tis no
need," he said; but I do suspect that he would not do aught that might
be used in evidence against him. He is a good man, of wise carriage
and conduct, and learning sufficient for his place; but 'tis cardinal
doctrine with him that he must be Rector of Lincoln College. 'Tis not
altogether ill with the world, he thinks, so long as that be so.
Hitherto he has kept his profits and dignities while many have lost
them, as I shall show hereafter; and if, to speak profanely, Fortune
shall give another turn to her wheel, and the King have his own again,
I doubt not we shall find Master Hood[4] at the top in as good case as
ever.
[3] The tradition was that the house would fall when a more
learned man than the Friar should pass beneath it.
[4] Paul Hood held the Rectorship of Lincoln College from
1620 to 1668, and therefore outlasted the change from King
to Parliament, and from Parliament again to King. No other
head of a house was equally compliant or equally long lived.
[Illustration: King Charles the First.]
My father had, with no small difficulty, bespoken a horse for me, and
when I had settled my small affairs at College, I went down to William
Barnes his stables in S. Aldate's so as to make acquaintance with him.
The first sight of him dashed me somewhat. He was, I thought, over
small for me, having not more than thirteen hands in height, while my
stature exceeded six feet by three inches and more. But his colour
troubled me more than his littleness, for he was of the spotted kind,
such as they commonly use in shows. William Barnes perceived that I
was ill at ease, and would comfort me. "Nay, Master," he said, "'tis
an excellent beast for all his queer look. A good horse is ever of a
good colour, say I; and as for strength it does not always go with
bigness. I warrant he would carry three of you, if his back were long
enough. And if your legs be over long, you must shorten your
stirrups." Nor, indeed, were his commendations ill bestowed. It must
be confessed that there was much laughter when I was first seen on his
back, and laughter is sometimes almost as ill to bear as blows. But he
never failed me in any need. He never flinched at the noise of the
cannons--no, not when he heard it for the first time, whereas there
were, I noted, many horses that could never be trusted, but that they
would carry their riders clean off the field, to their no small
discredit, or straight into the enemy, to their no small danger. But
Spot--for so I called the good beast--was ever steady and obedient to
the rein, and if provender were short he was content to wait, nor yet
failed in strength, however long the day's work might be. Poor Spot,
he is with many another on Naseby Field. I am not ashamed to confess
that though I had, God knows, other and heavier griefs that day, I
shed tears to think I should see him no more. But I must return to the
time of which I am now speaking.
[Illustration: _A Halt of Officers._
_HANHART LITH._]
Though my father had been secret as to the purpose of the ride, as he
named it, to which he called me, I had little doubt what this might
be. Yet was I somewhat mistaken. For thinking that the King was
intending to go forth from Oxford, where, as I have said, he was near
to being surrounded, to some part where he might have freer action,
and to do this with a small company of followers, I found, coming down
to the north gate, which I did about half-past eight on the evening,
that there was a whole army assembled. There were, as I did afterwards
discover, about 6,000 men, of whom the greater part were horse. The
horse were drawn up in a very fair array in Port Meadow, which had
been conveniently chosen for this purpose, as lying low and so being
out of sight of the enemy. The foot soldiers, marching down the lane
that runs by Aristotle's Well, there joined them; and so, about nine
of the clock, when it was now beginning to grow dark, we set off, the
horse, whereof my father's regiment was the foremost, being in front,
and the footmen following after with as much haste as they might. And,
indeed, besides that all were picked men, 'twas not a march in which
any would desire to linger, so great was the danger lest the enemy's
forces, being much more numerous, should close upon us. These, as I
have before said, were on either side of us, but on the present
occasion the army of Lord Essex was the more to be dreaded, seeing
that it had pushed forward its outposts so far as Woodstock town,
whereas we, marching by Picksey and Oxsey Mead, and over Worton Heath,
skirted the very walls of Woodstock Park. Our chief care was
concerning a certain bridge over the Evenlode River that is hard by
the village of Long Hanborough, whether it were held by the enemy or
no. For if it was so held we should have to fight for it, and if we
fought it would be small odds whether we got the better or the worse,
for we could scarce hope, being checked upon our way, to outstrip our
pursuers. About midnight there was a consultation held among the
leaders, whereof the outcome was this, that my father with two hundred
horsemen, each carrying a musqueteer behind him, rode forward with as
much speed as they could command, being specially chosen for their
courage and for the strength and quickness of their horses. It was
purposed that these should occupy and hold the bridge at Hanborough.
With these I rode, and when we were come to the bridge, and by God's
providence found it vacant, says my father to me, "Son Philip, ride
back to the army with all the speed you can, and tell the good news to
the King." So I rode, putting spurs to my horse, though indeed the
good beast needed not spur nor whip; and when I arrived at the army I
found the King, with whom was the whole inception and conduct of the
affair from the beginning to the end, had ridden to the front. And
when he saw me, careful and troubled as he was about the matter, he
had much ado to keep from laughter, so strange a figure did we show.
But when he heard my news, he said, "This is excellent good tidings;
never came more welcome Mercury than thou. And that need be a
marvellous good beast of thine, be his looks what they may, for thee
to have gone and returned so speedily. But spare him now, and follow
quietly."
There is no need to write of this march at length, though indeed it
was marvellously well conceived and executed. Let it suffice then to
say so much as follows. We proceeded without halt till the afternoon,
when we came to Burford, which is distant from Oxford about sixteen
miles. There we refreshed ourselves awhile, and his Majesty was so
graciously disposed that he would have my father and me to sup with
him and the great lords that were about his person. After supper he
talked with my father awhile about military affairs, asking his
opinion in the most courteous fashion; and he had also a few words
with me about my books, not forgetting to warn me that I must not
neglect them for any pleasures or excitements of war. About nine of
the clock the King, desiring to put as much space as might be between
himself and his pursuers, gave command to march, which was performed,
but not without some murmuring. And, indeed, it was a laborious march,
for though our way for the most part lay along the valley, yet at the
last, it being little short of midnight, we made a steep ascent, and
so having mounted the height with no small pains, descended the same
with no less to Bourton-on-the-Water. Here we rested for the night,
keeping under such shelter as we could find, or, the greater part of
us, under none at all. We had marched, I take it, not less than thirty
miles, which is no small achievement, especially for an army that had
been for many months past in garrison. The next day betimes we set
forth again, the King intending at the first to halt at Evesham, but
after hearing that General Waller was in pursuit, and that crossing
the Avon at Stratford might so cut him off from Worcester, to which
place he was bound, changed his purpose and went on without halt to
Worcester. And here I must record a marvellous deliverance from
instant danger that befell me on my way. 'Twas at Pershore in
Worcestershire, where there is a bridge over the Avon. This the King
commanded should be broken down, and gave commandment accordingly to
the officer that had the charge of such matters. But he being either
new to his business, or overhasty to finish the matter, lest the enemy
should perchance come up and find it undone, set fire to the gunpowder
wherewith it was to be destroyed, before the due time. By this
misadventure Major Bridges, a very skilful and courageous man, was
killed, and with him also three other officers and about twenty common
soldiers. I myself was like to have perished with these, being thrown
into the river, by the falling of the bridge. But being somewhat
before the others I escaped, for whereas they were done to death by
the force of the explosion, I did but lose my footing and fall into
the river. And here again my good steed showed how excellent a beast
he was, for he swam most bravely against the stream, and in the end
landed me on the bank, being not much the worse, save for the wetting.
From Evesham the King rode to Worcester, where the townsfolk received
him with much rejoicing.