HOW THE EARL OF DERBY ARRIVED AT WORCESTER.
The end of August had arrived. The anniversary of the battle of
Dunbar--fought on the 3rd of September, 1650--was close at hand.
Cromwell, as we have shown, had resolved to wait for this auspicious
day, if he should not be forced by the king to accept a battle sooner.
But Charles had been so much discouraged by the failure of the
camisade that he hesitated--perhaps too long--before risking a general
engagement. A few unimportant skirmishes had taken place between the
outposts, sometimes with advantage to one party, sometimes to the
other, but these were all.
The interval was employed by Cromwell in making strong intrenchments
at Perry Wood, where he had mounted a battery with heavy guns. As
this battery threatened Fort Royal and the city, Charles was eager
to attack it, but was dissuaded from the hazardous attempt by his
generals. The jealousies among the Royalist leaders, already alluded
to, had increased in bitterness, and, in consequence of these disputes,
which he found it impossible to check, he could form no plan with the
certainty of carrying it out. All his designs were frustrated.
Cromwell, on the other hand, took counsel from no one. His instructions
were implicitly obeyed. What his precise plans now were could only be
conjectured. They were known to Lambert, Fleetwood, Ingoldsby, and the
generals stationed at Upton, but to no others.
Charles had recently changed his quarters, and had removed to the
ancient mansion belonging to the mayor, where he enjoyed greater
privacy than he could command at the palace. The residence he had
chosen is one of the largest old houses in the city, and stands at the
north end of New-street, looking into the Corn Market. Over the porch
is the appropriate inscription, "LOVE GOD--HONOUR THE KING." Here he
could retire when completely worn out by the ceaseless toils of the
day, certain of being undisturbed.
On the evening of Monday, the 1st of September, he was seated in a
large old-fashioned room on the ground floor of the ancient mansion
referred to. The dark oak panels were hung with tapestry, and the
cumbrous oak furniture was of Elizabeth's time. He had just dined, but
had eaten little, and was in a very despondent mood. Careless, who was
in attendance, filled a large silver goblet with claret, and handed it
to him. The king raised the cup to his lips, but set it down untasted.
"I never saw your majesty so downcast before," remarked Careless. "A
cup of wine will cheer you. The claret is good, I'll answer for it, for
I have emptied a flask."
"Wine will not rouse my spirits," rejoined Charles, gloomily. "I am
quite worn out. I will hold no more councils of war. They are utterly
unprofitable. There is no deliberation--no unanimity of opinion--each
plan, however promising, is violently opposed. What will be the end of
it all?--certain defeat."
"Yes, I own your generals are difficult to manage, my liege," replied
Careless. "But you humour them too much, and in consequence they
presume on your good-nature, and disregard your authority. Enforce
obedience to your commands. That is Old Noll's plan."
"Would you have me resemble him?" cried Charles.
"Yes, in that particular, my liege. He would not be where he now is if
he were not absolute. At your next council explain your plans, but do
not allow them to be discussed."
"Why summon a council at all, if those composing it are not to
deliberate?"
"Merely that your generals may hear the expression of your will."
"Well, thy notion is not a bad one," replied Charles, smiling for the
first time.
"Let no one speak but yourself, my liege, and there can be no
wrangling, no contention."
"That is indisputable," said Charles.
At this moment a sound was heard in the passage.
"Some one is without!" exclaimed the king. "But be it whom it may, I
will not be disturbed."
Thereupon Careless left the chamber, but almost immediately returned.
"I have disobeyed your majesty," he said; "but I am sure you will
pardon me."
As the very distinguished-looking personage who had entered with him
advanced slowly towards the king, Charles perceived who he was, and
sprang forward, exclaiming:
"Welcome, my dear Lord Derby! Welcome to Worcester! Of all men living
you are the one I most desired to see. Once more, welcome! You have
arrived most opportunely. We are on the eve of a great battle--a battle
that must decide my fate!--and I could not have fought it successfully
without you."
"Thank Heaven I have arrived in time!" cried the earl. "I was aware
that a battle was imminent, and almost despaired of reaching Worcester
in time to take part in it; but here I am at last, ready to fight for
your majesty."
"You can do more than merely fight for me, my lord," said Charles. "You
can give me the benefit of your advice. I sadly want a counsellor."
"I fancied you had already too many counsellors, sire," observed the
earl.
"Nay, that is true," rejoined Charles. "But I want a leader like
yourself--entirely devoted to me--one who will not thwart me. Heaven
has sent you to me at the right moment, and my hopes are now revived."
"If I had not been protected by Heaven, I could not have overcome the
difficulties I have had to encounter in coming hither, my liege,"
replied the Earl of Derby.
"Have you quite recovered from the hurts you got at Wigan, my dear
lord?' asked the king, anxiously.
"Not entirely, my liege," replied the earl. "Six-and-twenty wounds are
not cured in a week. But I am able to sit a horse, and wield a sword.
Finding myself strong enough for the journey, I left Boscobel this
morn, attended by Captain Giffard of Chillington and his brother, with
a dozen of their retainers. We got on without accident or interruption,
till within a few miles of Worcester, and though we had quitted the
high road, and taken to the fields and lanes in order to avoid the
enemy, we were discovered by a party of skirmishers, and chased almost
to the gates of the city. We found the Foregate walled up, and so
entered by St. Martin's-gate."
"The Foregate has been walled up as a matter of precaution," said
Charles. "But you look pale, my good lord. Be seated, I beg of you. A
cup of wine, Careless."
The earl emptied the goblet proffered him.
"That has marvellously restored me," he said. "I did feel somewhat
faint and exhausted after my long ride."
The colour was now, in some degree, restored to the earl's pallid
countenance, but as Charles gazed at him with deep interest, he saw how
severely he still suffered from his numerous wounds.
Never did the spirit of loyalty burn more strongly in any breast than
in that of James Stanley, seventh Earl of Derby. This is sufficiently
proved by the earl's haughty response to Ireton, when summoned to
surrender the Isle of Man to the Parliament. "I have received your
letter with indignation," he wrote, "and with scorn I return you this
answer, that I cannot but wonder whence you should gather any hopes
from me that I should, like you, prove traitorous to my sovereign,
since you cannot be insensible of my former actings in his late
majesty's service, from which principle of loyalty I am in no way
departed. I scorn your proffers; I disdain your favours; I abhor your
treasons; and so far from delivering this Island to your advantage, I
will keep it to your destruction. Take this final answer, and forbear
any further solicitations, for if you trouble me with any more messages
upon this occasion I will burn the paper and hang the messenger."
To Charles II. this loyal and chivalrous peer was as devoted as he had
been to that monarch's martyred sire.
Born in 1606, the Earl of Derby was still in the prime of manhood,
and was endowed with a frame of extraordinary vigour. Skilled in all
athletic exercises, brave to a fault, prompt, determined, undismayed
by danger, he would have been a great general but for his excessive
rashness. Somewhat below the ordinary height, he was powerfully
built and well proportioned. His features were cast in a large and
noble mould, and his dark, deep-sunk eyes had a grave and thoughtful
expression, that harmonised with his sombre and melancholy aspect.
Baines, the historian of Lancashire, thus describes him: "His was one
of the old Stanley faces which we love to look upon as they darken in
their frames, and to associate with deeds of chivalry, as enduring
as the history of that country with whose annals their names are so
proudly connected."
The Earl of Derby was married to Charlotte, daughter of Claude de la
Tremouille, Duke of Thuars, and through this union he became allied
to the royal houses of Nassau and Bourbon. The Countess of Derby was
exceedingly beautiful, and her high spirit was equal to her beauty.
Her heroic defence of Latham House for four months against the
Parliamentarian forces is one of the most memorable incidents of the
Civil Wars.
Such was the seventh Earl of Derby, not the least illustrious of a long
and illustrious line. The earl's tragical end is well known, and it
forms one of the darkest pages in the sanguinary annals of the period.
"I must now inquire after Roscarrock," observed the earl. "He is here,
I trust. But I have heard nought of him since he left Boscobel."
"He arrived here safely nearly a week ago, and has well-nigh recovered
from his wounds," replied Charles. "Go find him, and bring him here at
once," he added to Careless.
"I shall only have to tell him that Lord Derby has arrived, and he will
hurry hither," replied Careless, who instantly departed on his errand.
Left alone with the earl, Charles acquainted him with the present
posture of affairs, and explained his difficulties to him. After
listening with deep interest to all that was said by the king, the earl
replied:
"I am sorry to find your majesty thus embarrassed, but I trust I shall
be able to relieve you from your perplexities. I have some influence
both with Hamilton and Buckingham, and I will use it to heal their
differences. If they can be reconciled--and this shall be my first
business--there will be little difficulty with the others, except
perhaps with Lauderdale, but I will endeavour to soothe his wounded
pride. This is not the moment for disputes. All quarrels must be
settled after the battle."
"You give me fresh heart, my dear lord," cried Charles. "I was in
despair, but you have restored my confidence. With my father's best and
staunchest friend by my side, I shall yet triumph."
Just then the door opened, and Roscarrock entered, followed
by Careless. Joyful exclamations were uttered as the two
companions-in-arms embraced each other. There was something so touching
in their meeting that both Charles and Careless were moved by it.
As soon as the excitement caused by seeing the earl was over,
Roscarrock made a reverence to the king, and said, in an apologetic
tone:
"I trust your majesty will pardon me. I have been carried away by my
feelings."
"The warmth of your feelings does you honour, colonel," observed
Charles. "I am as rejoiced as yourself at the Earl of Derby's arrival.
His presence will animate my troops. He will have the command of a
regiment, and you will be with him."
"I thank your majesty," replied Roscarrock, bowing. "Heaven grant we
may be more fortunate than we were at Wigan!"
"That disaster will now assuredly be repaired," observed Charles;
"though you will have Cromwell himself to contend with. But you said
the two Giffards of Chillington accompanied you from Boscobel," he
added to the earl. "Where are they?"
"They are waiting to learn your majesty's pleasure respecting them,"
replied Lord Derby.
"In the street?" cried Charles.
"Ay, in the street, my liege," said Roscarrock. "I spoke with them as I
came in. They have not dismounted. Your majesty has not two more loyal
subjects than Thomas and Charles Giffard."
"That I will answer for," added Lord Derby. "And they are brave as well
as loyal."
"You praise them so highly that I must needs see them," remarked
Charles, smiling. "Bring them to me, Careless. Boscobel belongs to
them, you said, my lord?"
"To Tom Giffard, the elder brother, my liege. The Giffards are a very
ancient Roman Catholic family, and have remained constant to the faith
of their forefathers."
"I do not dislike them for adhering to the old religion," said Charles.
"Besides Chillington, they have another seat called White Ladies,"
pursued the earl. "Your majesty will understand what Boscobel is like
when I mention that it is a secluded recusant's house, full of priests'
hiding-places, so wonderfully contrived, that none concealed within
them were ever discovered. I felt perfectly safe there."
"A good place of refuge, no doubt," remarked Charles. "'Tis well to
know of it. But here come the Giffards."
As he spoke, the two brothers were ushered in by Careless. Both were
handsome, stalwart young men, and their good looks and manly bearing
very favourably impressed the king. A strong family resemblance existed
between them. They were fully armed, as were all gentlemen at that
distracted time. The king accorded them a most gracious reception.
"I am glad to see you, gentlemen," he said. "And since you have come to
Worcester, I must, perforce, detain you till after the battle. I want
recruits--above all, such recruits as you."
"We have come to offer our services to your majesty," replied Captain
Giffard.
"I accept them," said Charles. "You shall serve under Lord Derby."
"Your majesty has anticipated the request we were about to prefer,"
observed Charles Giffard.
"My Lord of Derby," said the king to the earl, "you must take up your
quarters here. For many reasons I desire to have you with me." The earl
bowed, and Charles turned to the two Giffards and said: "Gentlemen, you
will likewise find quarters here. The kindness and hospitality shown by
you to Lord Derby demand some return. Nay, nay, good sirs, you will not
incommode me. The house is large, and has plenty of rooms within it.
Major Careless will see you comfortably bestowed."
It need scarcely be said that this gracious proposition was gladly
accepted--indeed, it could not be declined. The Earl of Derby and the
two Giffards were lodged that night in the old mansion in New-street
with the king.