HOW URSO GIVES HAD AN INTERVIEW WITH THE LORD GENERAL IN THE STABLE OF
SPETCHLEY MANOR-HOUSE.
Viewed by torchlight, as Cromwell beheld it on his arrival there, the
large stable-yard of Spetchley manor-house presented a very curious
sight--being full of musketeers, cuirassiers, lancers, and dragoons,
with their horses. Closely adjoining the stable-yard, and forming not
the least interesting part of the striking scene, were the blackened
walls of the ancient mansion, now silvered by the rays of the moon.
As Cromwell rode into the yard, attended by Colonel Lindsey and
Dighton, he remarked an elderly personage, guarded by two musketeers.
"Ah! you have a prisoner yonder I see, Cornet Hardiman?" he observed to
the officer who came up to him. "Where was he taken?--and who is he?"
"He was found in a summer-house in the garden, your excellency, and
refuses to give his name," replied the cornet. "As he may be a spy, I
have detained him till your return."
"You have done right," said the Lord General. "Bring him to me."
"Advance, prisoner!" cried the officer.
And as the prisoner was brought forward, Cromwell was struck by his
grave looks and deportment.
"This man cannot be a spy," he thought, after a moment's scrutiny. "Who
art thou? And what dost thou here?" he demanded.
"Truly it would appear that I am an intruder," replied the prisoner,
somewhat haughtily. "Yet I once was master of this mansion."
"If so, you are Sir Robert Berkeley," rejoined Cromwell, surprised.
"Your excellency has said it," rejoined the other. "I am that
unfortunate man."
"Had you declared as much from the first, you would have been set at
liberty," observed the Lord General.
"I am not so sure of that," replied Sir Robert. "I do not think my word
would have been taken. But be that as it may, I cared not to answer
questions rudely put to me by your soldiers. Mistake me not--I make
no complaint of ill-treatment. Such explanation as I have to offer
your excellency I give readily. My habitation having been burnt down,
my stables occupied, I had no place of refuge except my summer-house,
where I sought shelter for the night. There I was found, as hath just
been stated."
"You have only yourself to thank for the detention, Sir Robert,"
rejoined Cromwell. "Though your nephew, Sir Rowland Berkeley of
Cotheridge, is an avowed malignant, and you yourself are known as an
active partisan of Charles Stuart, I will not discredit what you tell
me. You are free; and, furthermore, are free to speak of all you have
seen or heard. You shall be conducted to the nearest outpost, or, if
you desire it, shall be taken to White Lady Aston."
"I will rather sleep beneath a tree than under Mr. Symonds's roof,"
replied the old judge. "If I might ask a favour of your excellency it
would be to be allowed to pass the night in my summer-house."
"You seem to like the spot," remarked Cromwell, somewhat suspiciously.
"'Tis all that is left me of the old place," replied the judge.
"Well, I will consider of it," said Cromwell. "Have you supped, Sir
Robert?"
"Neither dined nor supped."
"You have fasted too long for a man of your years. You shall sup with
me."
This was said in a more cordial tone than the Lord General had hitherto
adopted.
Dismounting, he gave his horse to a soldier, and ordered Cornet
Hardiman to show him the rooms prepared for him in the stables.
"Come with me, Sir Robert," he added to the old judge, who, of course,
complied with a request amounting to a command.
The stables being full of horses, it seemed at first that there could
be but little accommodation for the Lord General, but the cornet
mounted up a ladder-like flight of stairs, that brought them to a room
which might have been a hay-loft, but which was now furnished with a
table and a few old-fashioned chairs saved from the wreck of the ruined
mansion. On the table were placed cold viands and a couple of flasks of
wine. Covers were laid for four, in case the Lord General should invite
any of his officers to sup with him, as was occasionally his wont. A
lamp set on the table scarcely illumined the loft, but its glimmer
showed the cobwebbed rafters overhead.
"Let Dighton wait below," said Cromwell. "I shall require no
attendance."
As the cornet withdrew, he took off his casque and gauntlets, and
pronounced, with considerable unction, a very long grace, during which
he kept Sir Robert standing. Grace ended at last, he bade him sit
down and fall to--setting him the example. Though the old judge had
fasted so long, he ate little in comparison with his host, and drank
only a single glass of wine. Cromwell, however, partook with right
good appetite of the plain fare set before him, and emptied a large
flagon of sack. While thus employed, he scarcely spoke a word, but he
afforded his guest an excellent opportunity of studying his remarkable
countenance.
With Cromwell's coarse features, disfigured by a large, ill-formed red
nose, against which the Cavaliers never ceased to direct their scurril
jests; with his stout, ungainly figure, utterly devoid of dignity and
grace, the reader must be familiar. Yet with all these drawbacks,
which have not been in the slightest degree exaggerated, the Lord
General's physiognomy was very striking. Chiefly so, on account of its
determined and formidable expression. His eye possessed extraordinary
power, and few could brook its glances when he was angered, or when
his suspicions were aroused. His habitual expression was that of
bluff sternness, and he looked like a surly bull-dog, whom no one
who valued a whole skin would care to offend, and yet he could put
off this morose and repelling look when he pleased, and exchange it
for one of rough good-humour. But even when he unbent, he inspired
fear. His character has been too much darkened by some writers, and
virtues have been ascribed to him by others which he certainly did
not possess. Courageous, crafty, ambitious, hypocritical, almost a
fatalist, cruel, unjust, and unrestrained by any moral principle, by
the sole force of his indomitable will, he overcame every obstacle,
and reached the goal at which he aimed. His ambition being boundless,
nothing less than sovereign power would satisfy him, though he affected
to disdain the title of king, being perfectly aware that the Royalists
would never accept a regicide as king. Of marvellous sagacity and
penetration, he was rarely deceived in his judgment of men, and always
used them, where he could, as instruments in furthering his designs.
A profound dissembler, and fully capable of using religion as a mask,
had it been needful to do so, it can scarcely be doubted that he was
really religious; though few entirely believed in the sincerity of
his religious professions. Cromwell's character is full of striking
contrasts. Abhorred by his enemies, he had multitudes of devoted
friends. For a time his memory was execrated. In latter days somewhat
more than justice has been done him. The great crime he committed
has never been pardoned--will never be pardoned. The stain of blood
cannot be washed out. As to his high military genius all are agreed.
Among great commanders he stands foremost. And he would rank among the
greatest of men, if his crimes did not overshadow his virtues.
The accoutrements of the Lord General differed very little from those
of an officer of his own body-guard, except that they were somewhat
more ornamented, being filigrained with gold. They consisted of an open
casque and a very large gorget. But he had neither breast-plate, nor
cuisses--the stout buff coat with long skirts which he wore affording
sufficient protection to the lower part of his person. A scarf was tied
round his waist. His strong buff boots were drawn far up the thigh, and
from his broad embroidered shoulder-belt hung a large basket-hilted
sword.
He was not unconscious that he was the object of his guest's covert
scrutiny, but the circumstance did not trouble him--perhaps rather
gratified him. It may be that he designed to win over the old Royalist
judge, or at least to produce a favourable impression upon him, for
as soon as he had finished supper, he almost compelled Sir Robert to
take more wine, and then began a very friendly discourse with him,
professing great regret that Spetchley manor-house had been destroyed
by the Scottish soldiers, and expressing a hope that it might soon be
rebuilt.
Their conversation, however, was interrupted by the entrance of
Dighton, who informed the Lord General that a man was without who
stated that he had matter of the utmost importance to communicate to
his excellency.
"What manner of man is he?" demanded Cromwell.
"I have reason to believe he is a spy from the city," replied Dighton.
"He delivered himself up to the vedettes on Red Hill, conjuring them to
bring him speedily before your excellency. Accordingly, he hath been
sent on from the first outpost. He is the bearer of this letter, which
he affirms is from Colonel James, somewhile commandant of the garrison
of Worcester."
Cromwell took the missive, and after glancing at its contents, said,
"The man hath spoken truly. His business is important. I will see him."
"With your excellency's permission I will retire," said the old judge,
rising.
"I am sorry to lose your company," said Cromwell; "but this is a matter
that cannot be postponed. A bed must be found for Sir Robert Berkeley,"
he added to Dighton.
"I know not where to find one, unless his worship is content to sleep
on straw," was the half-grumbling response.
"If I am allowed to occupy my old summer-house, I shall be perfectly
satisfied," replied the judge.
"Be it so, Sir Robert," said Cromwell. "I wish you sounder repose than
I myself am likely to enjoy. To-morrow's news may surprise you."
The old judge did not venture to question him, but, bowing deeply,
departed with Dighton, and Cromwell was left for a few moments alone.
"What says Colonel James?" he muttered. "'The bearer of this may be
trusted. He hath preserved my life, and, with Heaven's grace, may be
the happy means of preserving a life in comparison with which mine
is as naught.' The import of the message is plain. The life to be
preserved is mine own. 'Cursed is the man that trusteth in man,' saith
the prophet. Yet in whom can I trust, if not in those who serve me? If
there be a plot against me, it were better for him who hath hatched it
that he had never been born."
Steps were now heard on the staircase, and the next moment a tall, thin
man, whose aspect was that of a Puritan, while his habiliments were
those of a Cavalier, was ushered into the presence of the Lord General
by Dighton. Behind them came a couple of musketeers, but the guard
advanced no further than the head of the steps.
Cromwell fixed a long and searching glance upon the personage thus
introduced, who bore the scrutiny firmly.
Apparently satisfied, the Lord General signed to Dighton to withdraw,
bidding him, however, wait outside.
"Now, fellow, thy name?" demanded Cromwell of the man, as soon as they
were alone.
"Urso Gives, of Worcester, by trade a tailor," was the reply.
"An honest trade. I have naught to say against it," rejoined the Lord
General. "Men must be clothed, though it were better they were clothed
in sackcloth than in purple and fine linen. Better still they were
clothed in the garments of salvation. But enough. Hath thy trade aught
to do with what thou hast to declare to me?"
"Nothing. I mentioned it for a reason which I will presently explain to
your excellency. I have come hither at the hazard of my life to bring
you timely intelligence of a daring and well-conceived design, which,
if it were successfully executed, would snatch from you the victory and
give it to Charles Stuart. What am I to claim as a reward if I shall
prove what I assert?"
"Go to. Bargain not with me. Thy reward shall be proportioned to the
importance of thy disclosure."
"But I may not live to receive it," rejoined Urso. "The risk I run is
great. When I depart hence I must return to Rabbah, and I may fall into
the hands of the Ammonites, who will show me little mercy. What then
becomes of the recompense promised me?"
"Hast thou a wife?"
"Yea, verily," replied Urso; "a fair young wife, whom I have just
espoused. If I perish in my efforts to save Israel, shall she have the
reward?"
"Content thyself--she shall. I promise it to thee," rejoined Cromwell.
"Thou hast great faith in the constancy of women, I perceive, and it is
well."
"I cannot with truth affirm that I have great faith in the constancy
of her whom I have wedded," replied Urso. "But I love her better than
life."
"And she, I trust, will honour thy memory, as it deserves to be
honoured," remarked Cromwell, in a slightly contemptuous tone. "But
having made thy conditions beforehand, let me hear what thou hast to
tell. Be brief."
"'Tis not my wont to waste words," rejoined Urso. "But first let me
inquire the hour?"
"The hour! Thou shouldst know it as well as I. 'Tis past eleven."
"Then in less than two hours' time General Middleton will sally forth
from the Sidbury-gate with fifteen hundred picked men, all well mounted
and well armed, wearing their shirts above their breastplates for
distinction. The malignant general has vowed to take your excellency,
dead or alive, and thus end the war, and he will make every effort to
fulfil his vow. Expecting to find Colonel Lilburn wholly unprepared,
he will pass through the camp without attacking it, and cut his way
through any other opposing force further on, his aim being Spetchley,
where he hopes to find your excellency. Should he arrive, no quarter is
to be given."
"Thou art sure of this?" remarked Cromwell, with forced calmness.
"I heard the project discussed and settled this very morning at the
Commandery between Charles Stuart, the Duke of Hamilton, General
Middleton, and some others. As I have said, Middleton has vowed to
accomplish your excellency's destruction, or to perish in the attempt."
"And those engaged in the camisade are to sally forth an hour after
midnight, thou sayst?" observed Cromwell, calmly.
"That is the hour appointed. I would have given your excellency earlier
warning, had I been able to quit the city. But I could not obtain an
order, and only succeeded in getting out during the burning of the
suburbs."
"Thou hast arrived in time. The design can be easily frustrated. Thy
intelligence merits a good reward, and thou shalt not be disappointed
of it. If aught befalls thee, thy wife shall have the reward. Moreover,
I promise thee ample vengeance."
Cromwell, who did not seem at all disturbed by the alarming
intelligence he had received, but maintained the most perfect
composure, put several questions to Gives, and then said:
"Do not suppose that I doubt the truth of thy statement, but I cannot
allow thee to return to Worcester till the affair is over."
"The danger to me will be far greater, if I return not before
daybreak," pleaded Gives.
"Why shouldst thou return? But like a doting fool, thou canst not, I
suppose, leave thy young wife."
He then called out for Dighton, who instantly answered the summons, and
said to him, "This man will remain here till I return, or until I send
an order for his release. Sit down at the table, friend," he added to
Gives. "Eat and drink and make glad thine heart. Thou wilt see thy wife
again ere long."
While thus speaking he had donned his casque and gauntlets, and he then
quitted the chamber, and proceeded to the stable-yard, where he found
Colonel Lindsey, the commander of his life guards, and telling him he
was about to proceed to Colonel Lilburn's camp, bade him follow with
three hundred men.
"The whole regiment must remain under arms throughout the night," he
added. "An attack may be expected."
Without a word more he mounted his charger, which was ready for him,
and attended by Dighton and a small party of musketeers, rode at a
brisk pace through the woods to Colonel Lilburn's camp.