_ON THE WAR-PATH._
"Uncle, I cannot help it! I will do nothing to injure any who bear my
name! I will change that name if needs be--but I must go! I cannot
stay behind, knowing nothing of what is happening save what the voice
of rumour whispers. I must see and know for myself. None shall be hurt
through me. But prithee let me go. It may be that I will be able to
send thee word of things that thou wouldst fain know. Hinder me not,
good uncle, for needs must that I fare forth with the King!"
My uncle regarded me reflectively and gravely, as I poured forth these
words early upon the Sunday morning that had so little of Sabbath
stillness in the air. I had been up and about already, although the day
was yet young. I had heard that the camp was to be broken up forthwith,
and a march made towards Bridgewater. The thought of seeing the King
and all his soldiers march away, and of remaining behind in the city a
prey to all sorts of fancied terrors, and in suspense as to what might
be happening elsewhere, seemed intolerable to me. The fever of war had
got into my blood, and though I knew I could never be a soldier, I felt
that I must needs see war, or I should die of disappointment.
Perhaps my uncle felt sympathy with me; more possibly he thought that
such a hot partisan of the new-made King was more of a peril to him
in his house than following upon the path of the soldiers in that mob
which always waits upon the steps of an army. There few would know
or take note of me. Here I was known by pretty well every one in the
city. If I was resolved upon throwing in my lot with the army, I might
be in less peril myself and cause less danger to others there than
in the town of Taunton. So after steadily regarding me for a while,
and revolving the matter slowly in his mind, after his fashion, he
answered,--
"Well, well, well, a wilful lad will go his own way. Thou must e'en
choose thine own path, Dicon. I will not keep thee here against thy
will, but I counsel thee not to run into greater danger than needs must
be. We may all be in peril of our lives for all I know ere this matter
be settled; and where the greater danger lies Heaven knows and not I.
Wherefore take thine own way, but use all prudence and caution. Thou
hast a good head of thine own, and quick wits when thou dost use them
aright. See that thou walkest as warily as may be in the perilous days
that be like to fall upon us."
"I will be careful, I will be wary," I answered eagerly. And in great
excitement and joy at having so easily won my uncle's good-will, I ran
to tell Meg and Will Wiseman, and then to groom and feed Blackbird,
and decide what to take with me in my saddle-bags; for I knew little as
to what might lie before me, but desired to be at charges with no man,
and to pay for everything that I might need.
Meg, whose heart was almost as much in the cause as mine, gave me some
crown pieces out of her store for my needs, and my aunt did the like.
I had money of mine own too, and some of this I took; yet I would not
dip too deeply into my hoard, because I had a feeling that I must
keep it for other needs than mine own. Should evil days fall upon us,
and should I have cause to keep the pledge I had made to my lord the
Viscount, I might need the golden guineas I had earned bit by bit by my
letter-writing, and so forth, and had stored away so carefully these
two past years in a secret receptacle of mine own. The silver coins
I took with me, but the golden guineas I left where they were. A few
groats would go far to keep me; to say nothing of shillings and crowns,
of which I had many. But gold might prove a peril, and I would none of
it.
Out into the streets I went next, to find the citizens in hot
discussion together, and not all of them well pleased at what was
doing. There were many amongst them who had confidently hoped that
before the Duke left he would have raised up fortifications around the
city, have built up the ancient walls, and left there a garrison to
keep and defend the place for him.
Colonel Hucker was the centre of this group, and he was speaking warmly
in favour of this thing.
"What use to the cause is a city without walls?" he was asking. "Why,
if we march out to-day, the Duke of Albemarle can march in to-morrow,
and none can let or hinder him!" [And in very truth that was just what
did happen, for the new King's army left on Sunday afternoon, and
the Duke of Albemarle was in the city on Tuesday, albeit he made no
long stay, but continued his pursuit of our army towards the north.]
"What we want is to leave behind us garrisoned cities holding for his
Majesty. If one King can pull down fortifications, surely another can
build them up! Taunton has held her own gallantly in times of war, and
has stood notable sieges in a good cause; nor has the temper of her
citizens changed. Give her but walls and towers and a few good soldiers
to lead and direct her citizens, and she would hold out as gallantly as
ever. What do you say, fellow-townsmen? Shall not Taunton be restored
to her former glories? Can she not do even as she did before?"
"Ay, ay; that she can."--"Give us walls and soldiers, and we will show
the usurping tyrant what Taunton can do."--"Where is the King? Let him
but give the word, and every man among us will become for the nonce a
stonemason, that we may begin to build our walls afresh!"
Such were the cries of the citizens, and such their enthusiasm in the
cause. There is nothing so catching as the martial fever, except it
be the panic which sometimes sets in afterwards. But though the zeal
of the city was great, the young King could not be brought to see the
matter as Colonel Hucker sought to show it him. He said there was no
time to build walls--which was true enough--and that he could not spare
men to garrison it if it were fortified even in a most hasty and rapid
way.
Colonel Hucker, who had looked to be made captain of the garrison and
Keeper of the City, was not a little disappointed, and all Taunton with
him; but there was too much right on the King's side for us to urge the
matter beyond a certain point; and as the Viscount said to me, as we
rode out at last towards Bridgewater,--
"If we can once secure Bristol, there we shall have a fortified city
at our command forthwith. That is the task we should set ourselves to
do without delay. Would that we were already before its walls! These
delays will be the undoing of us, I fear. Already has the King in
London had ten days in which to muster and send forces out west. Had we
been quicker, we might have had a fortress of our own already. Heaven
send there be no more such tardiness!"
My Lord Vere was one of those men who seem to be soldiers born. He had
not had the training and experience of some of the others, including
our new King himself, yet it seemed to me that if his counsels had but
been followed from the first we should have been marching to victory
now, and making the usurper shake upon his tottering throne. As we rode
along I could not but tell my lord of the witch we had visited, and of
what she had told us. I hoped that it might give him more heart (for I
knew by many signs that he thought the enterprise well-nigh desperate),
but he only gave me one of his curious smiles.
"A wise woman truly, Dicon, to foresee more blood than glory in this
undertaking."
"Nay, but, good my lord, she said that the usurper would die in exile.
How may that be, if our gracious King be not victorious?"
"It may be that thou wilt live to see such a thing one day, Dicon,"
answered my lord, "and yet not see King Monmouth on the throne. Knowest
thou not that there be men who have already fixed their eyes upon the
Prince of Orange, husband to the King's daughter, as a possible saviour
and deliverer? The witch knows more of such things, I trow, than thou
dost, boy, in spite of all thy learning."
"The witch hath a familiar who tells her what the future will bring
forth," I answered quickly, for I liked not to hear my learning
compared with that of an ignorant old woman, who would be nothing
without her familiar. And at that my lord smiled again, but said
nothing; and indeed I forgot the whole matter next moment, for we saw
approaching us from behind, in hot haste, Lord Lonsdale himself, whose
face wore a look of such anxiety and pain that I was quite sorry for
him.
Now it so chanced that the Viscount was not with his company at this
time. He had been detained by some duty which the King had set him to
do, and had not been able to leave the camp so soon as the soldiers.
This was the reason why, when he came riding after us a little later,
he had drawn rein upon seeing me on the outskirts of the crowd of
followers, and had paused to ask what I did there, and to gently chide
me for my folly in leaving a safe shelter for the uncertainties of war.
It was whilst we were riding together thus in the rear, having by this
time left behind the crowd who pressed after us on foot--Will Wiseman
amongst them, to see the last of us--that we heard the sound of these
hasty pursuing horse-hoofs, and turning round beheld Lord Lonsdale
riding apace after us. I thought the Viscount's face changed and
hardened slightly as he saw his father; but he drew rein and waited
till he came up.
"My son, my son," began Lord Lonsdale, in whose face and voice anger
and anxious fear seemed to be struggling together, "what madness, what
folly is this? A son of mine to be in arms with a rebel Duke, daring to
lay claim to the crown of England! Vere, Vere, you are not like these
ignorant rustics whom any one can delude by a specious tale. You know
that England will never submit to see a base-born King sitting upon the
throne. Be the present King never so much the tyrant, he rules by his
hereditary right; and you know that this young Duke has no more chance
of being England's King than thou hast thyself. Boy, thou canst not
look me in the face and tell me that thy heart is in the cause! I know
thee too well for that!"
Lord Vere made no attempt to meet this challenge, although he looked
his father unflinchingly in the face for all that.
"Sir," he said, in a low, resolute voice, "your remonstrances come too
late. I have unsheathed my sword in the cause, be it a good or an evil
one; and honour forbids me to sheathe it again until that cause is
either lost or won. You know well who and what drove me forth to break
a bondage that had become unendurable. If I give you pain now, it is
only because you have driven me to it!"
"Boy, boy, what folly is this! Why didst thou not tell me how thine
heart was bound up in that maid?"
"I told you many times, sir, that my heart was so bound up with Mary
Mead's that death itself would be preferable to life without her. I
said all that a man could say, and my reward was that I was made by
strategy to appear in public as the plighted husband of Mistress Edith
Portman. It was your hand that severed the bond of mutual confidence
which once existed between us. I have no more to say. I follow in the
steps of one to whom I have done homage as King."
"Vere, Vere, Vere!" cried the agitated father, almost in tears, as it
seemed to me, his face pale with agitation, "only come back with me,
only give up this mad folly, and thou shalt wed the girl when thou
willest. I will say no word against it. Anything is better than that
thou shouldst put a halter round thine own neck. Come but back with me,
and all shall be as thou desirest!"
There was sadness now in the Viscount's face--sadness and even a little
bitterness--but no sign of wavering.
"Sir, it is too late," he answered. "Hadst thou spoken those words but
ten short days ago, I would gladly have followed thee home, and given
to thee a sweeter daughter than son has ever given to father yet. But
it is too late now. Mine honour is pledged, and not even for the sake
of my duty towards you nor my love towards the lady can I lay aside
that honour and break my plighted word. Nay, were I to do so my lady
would be the first to cry shame upon me. She is a soldier's daughter,
and holds honour in more esteem than life itself. A deserter from the
cause so near her heart would find no favour with her. She might have
let love win the day had I not taken up arms for this young King--"
"King!" breathed Lord Lonsdale, in a tone only just audible, but full
of bitter scorn; "knowest thou what he is called--he and his army--by
all loyal and honest folk? 'King Scott and his vagabonds' is the name
he goes by. My son, my son, to think thou shouldst be following such an
one as he!"
The Viscount's face wore a look half sad and half bitter--like his
voice when he spoke.
"Yes, it seemeth strange sometimes even to me; but there be strange
shifts in a man's life, and a Viscount may sometimes come to be ranked
amongst vagabonds. Father," and here his tone changed and became
softer, "believe me, I am not ungrateful for your care and thought for
me, and it pains me to give you pain. But I cannot go back now. I would
things had been different with me; but since they are not--since I have
been driven to this step--I cannot and I will not draw back. If you
lose your only son by a traitor's death, it will be a grievous sorrow
to you, I wot well. But even if things go ill with us, there will be
many that may hope to escape with life. Perchance I will be one of
these. For my Mary's sake as well as yours I shall make a battle for my
life."
Lord Lonsdale would have stayed to reason longer, but his son shook his
head as though to say that argument was useless, as indeed it was when
both father and son thought really alike upon the question, and only
a sense of honour bound Lord Vere to the cause he never professed to
believe in with his heart or soul.
"Farewell, father," he said softly, and put out his hand; but the Earl
drew back with a look of such pain as I shall not soon forget.
"I may not touch the hand of a rebel," he said; and so father and son
parted with more bitterness and sorrow than I like to think of even now.
My lord was very grave and silent for a long time after this, as indeed
he well might be, but presently rode on ahead of me to join the army.
As for me, I could please myself what I did and what pace I travelled
at. The infantry had gone on in advance that morning, and had covered
the distance well. I thought that they would reach Bridgewater easily
by nightfall, and I decided that for my part I would stop for the night
at my own home and tell all the news there.
I was a little depressed by what I had heard between Lord Lonsdale and
his son, and perhaps it had slightly damped my enthusiasm in the cause.
I began to see that war could be a very hideous and evil thing, and I
almost found it in my heart to wish that the Viscount had consented to
return with his father, and marry Mistress Mary Mead forthwith, thus
saving both (as I trusted it would) from all future perils. I knew that
I loved and honoured him for his words, and for ranking honour above
life and happiness, and I well knew that could Mistress Mary have been
there she would have upheld him with all the earnestness and enthusiasm
of her nature. I was resolved that she should one day hear the story,
and know what a noble heart she had won; but just for the moment I was
sorrowful and sad, and I thought that the welcomes of my family would
prove a pleasant diversion for my grief.
Nor was I mistaken. I found all the house in a great stir, my mother
more hot and bustling and excited than I had ever seen her; for it
seemed that the Duke (I find it hard to say King as I should; wherefore
I think in the future I will still call him the Duke, although for many
days we all of us gave him the royal title, and were proud and glad
to do so) and his company had paused at the farmstead, and had asked
refreshment there. His handsome face and courteous ways had won all
hearts. My mother and sisters could talk of nothing but his beauty and
grace. They had refused all payment for what they had set before him,
and he had kissed my mother ere leaving, and set her all in a flutter
of excitement. To have been kissed by a King was an honour which none
of her friends or relations had ever received. She felt lifted into a
region beyond that of her daily life.
I was pounced upon for news, and made to talk the whole of the day and
far into the night--a thing very foreign to our home ways--so that
when at last I gained my couch I slept as soundly as a dormouse, and
was ashamed to find the sun high in the sky when I awoke.
Although my parents and brothers and sisters intermeddled not with such
troublous matters as the rightful succession of Kings, and so forth,
their hearts were all for the gallant young Duke, and I received a
handsome addition to my small stock of money from my father, who bid
me good-speed on my journey and a safe and prosperous return. All the
country side in these parts believed that the cause of the Duke would
be crowned with glory and success; and it was amusing to hear their
stories as to how they had evaded giving any help, and put hindrances
in the way of those who were on the royal side, but how they did
everything to speed the cause of the Duke.
Blackbird was somewhat heavily laden as we started forth to
Bridgewater, for my mother was in sore fear lest I should not find
enough to eat on the road, and she would fain have hung all manner
of things around my saddle, had I not declared that I should be the
laughing-stock of all the army.
Then with many adieus I rode off, and was not long in finding my way to
Bridgewater, where, as I have before stated, I had another uncle with
whom I was familiarly acquainted.
It really seemed to me as I rode into the town that Bridgewater had
striven to outdo Taunton in the welcome she gave the Duke. I heard that
already he had been proclaimed King there; that the proclamation had
been read in great state, the magistrates in their gowns standing by,
and, as I also heard, not unwillingly either. Flags were flying, and
windows and balconies were decked as in our town, whilst the faces of
the people looked as gay and happy as though no such thing as doubt or
fear existed.
I made my way with all speed to my uncle's house, which I found as busy
as was like to be on such a day. My kinsfolk had scarce time to give
me a welcome; but I set about making myself of use to them, and in so
doing picked up many a piece of news of a welcome nature.
It seemed that although the recruits were still of the lower class
of the people, much money had been collected for the cause in this
place, and that the Duke and his officers were in better spirits on
that account, and also because of the warmth with which they had been
welcomed.
The citizens and common people were beginning to think scorn of those
above them, who showed themselves so backward in the good cause, and to
whisper amongst themselves upon the subject.
"We wonder the gentlemen come not in," they began to say. "But we will
show them that we can do the work without them; and then when we are
the masters we will have their estates!"
That evening, as I wandered through the streets of Bridgewater,
I suddenly met Lord Vere walking rapidly and hurriedly, with a
preoccupied look upon his face. Seeing him thus thoughtful, I was
drawing aside--for I feared to presume upon that kindness which he had
ever shown me--when he suddenly saw me and paused.
"Ha, Dicon!" he said, "I was just wondering where thou wert to be
found. I want speech with thee, boy."
I was at his side in a moment, eager and flattered by his words.
"The matter is this, Dicon," continued my lord, speaking rapidly and in
a low voice:--"Thou knowest enough of matters in the camp to understand
that it is of the greatest moment for us to win Bristol. If we fail
there, I see naught for it but to be destroyed between the two armies
which are marching upon us--the Duke of Albemarle in our rear, and Lord
Feversham and perchance Lord Churchill (for there are contrary reports
brought in daily and hourly) in front, or marching from the eastward.
We hear that the people of Bristol are anxiously awaiting us; but even
of this there seems no certainty, for they say, too, that the Duke of
Beaufort with a large body of troops has recently come into the city
to hold it for the King--the King in London, Dicon--and that we shall
find it a tough nut to crack. All agree in saying that if once we can
get possession of it we shall find arms and money and provision in
abundance, and shall have achieved the first step towards a lasting
success. But the question is whether we may find entrance there, and if
so what will be the wisest plan of attack; and there be few men here
who know the city and have friends therein who may be trusted."
"They say Colonel Wade is from Bristol," I remarked; and the Viscount
nodded assent.
"He is; but he cannot be spared from the counsels of the Duke. In fine,
Dicon, what I have offered to do is to ride alone, or with but one
trusty servant at most, into Bristol myself, to see certain men of the
city with whom I have some acquaintance, and to learn how matters be
there. I am then to return and advise the Duke what he should do; for
never was man so beset before with counsellors all advocating different
views, and sure never had general such a strange company of captains
under him, scarce a man of them trained to war, and some scarce knowing
how to handle arms!"
"You are going to Bristol then, my lord?"
"Yes: I shall start with the first light of dawn to-morrow, which will
be shortly after three o'clock; and I have sought thee, Dicon, to know
if thou wilt be mine esquire for the nonce and ride with me. That black
pony of thine will carry thee bravely and well, as I know; and there be
few of the steeds our men have of which I could say the same. Thou hast
no air of martial valour to raise suspicion. I shall but appear like a
traveller upon the road with my servant behind me. I think we shall not
be in danger's way till our errand is done, and--"
"My lord, I would follow you to the world's end, be the dangers never
so great!" I cried, my heart swelling with pride that he had made
choice of me out of all the company in that great army. "I have been
longing this many a day to do some service either for you or for our
gracious young King. Let me go with you. I will serve you as no servant
would, and lay down my life for you if need be."
He smiled at my protestation, and answered kindly,--
"I trust that may not be needful, good Dicon; but if thou wilt thou
shalt serve me in this thing. Canst meet me then here in this spot by
three of the clock to-morrow morning? Good! I shall look for thee.
See to thy steed to-night, for we must travel with all speed. I shall
strive to reach Bristol to-morrow, and as early in the day as the
distance will permit."
"I will not fail you, my lord," I answered proudly, my heart beating
high within me. "And shall we return to the army when you have
fulfilled your errand? Shall we see the fight when the foe is before
us?"
"Truly I think we shall, Dicon," answered my lord with a smile. "The
enemy seems in small haste to attack us; but whether that be a good or
an evil sign I wot not. Yes, boy, I mean to be in the thick of that
fight whenever it does take place;" and his eyes shone for a moment
from beneath their bent brows with the battle light which the thought
of action brings into the faces of all true soldiers. "I too would bear
my share in that fight, as I see thou wouldst too. But I doubt not we
shall be in time for that. It is not fighting, it is this delay, these
pageants and proclamations, which sicken me. Would we were intrenched
before Bristol now, doing and daring all, instead of trusting that
some great thing will come to us. Well, boy, thou and I will see what
is like to be our fate in that city. To-morrow before sunrising; and
Heaven give us a good journey!"