THE END OF A REGICIDE.
"Sound, thou Trumpet of God, come forth, Great Cause, to array us,
King and leader appear, thy soldiers sorrowing seek thee."
CLOUGH, _The Bothie._
A solid mass of people thronged the space where three roads met and
Charing Cross once stood, and above the serried heads rose the black
skeleton of the gallows and the executioner's fire crackled and leapt
below. But the sight inspired little horror or pity in the throng:
orange girls called their wares, squalid beggars beset beplumed
gentlemen, burly ruffians shouldered back prim citizens in their
broadcloth and silver buckles; the press, the smell, the noise of
shouts and oaths and scraps of songs were much the same as had hailed
the Second Charles's entry into London six months before; but the faces
were changed, their coarse joviality was gone, and they were inflamed
with the frenzy of the bull-fighter, the loathsome curiosity that will
not miss one horrid detail, even if the gazer must trample down his own
mother to get a better view of the butchery.
The shouts swelled into a deep roar of execration, as the sledge on
which the prisoner lay bound neared the place of execution, and Richard
Harrison, struggling to keep his place as close to the victim as he
might, thought with grim bitterness of the day when this same mob,
silent and cowed, had seen General Harrison ride back from the scaffold
at Whitehall.
"The dastards dared not lift a finger then, though it was for their
liberty we struck the blow. And this is the reward the people of
England have reserved for their deliverers!" muttered Dick.
But no bitterness nor resentment darkened the prisoner's face, never
had his glance been more serenely triumphant, and as he pressed nearer,
Dick could catch above the yells and hootings, the rapturous words
which he uttered, his hands and eyes raised to heaven.
"I bless the Lord," he said, "it's a day of joy for my soul. I do find
so much of the joy of the Lord coming in, that I am carried far above
the fear of death, going to receive that glorious crown which Christ
hath prepared." And when one fellow cried out jeeringly, "Where is now
your Good Old Cause?" he, with a cheerful smile, clapped his hand on
his breast saying, "Here it is, and I am going to seal it with my
blood."
Yet even the most callous were silent for a moment as the dying man
spoke his last words from the ladder of the gallows, asserting once
more that he was wrongfully charged with murder and bloodshed.
"I must tell you I have kept a good conscience towards God, neither did
I act maliciously toward any person, but as I judged them to be enemies
to God and his people."
And when his nephew came near for a last farewell, he repeated once
more--
"It's hard for most to follow God in such a dispensation as this, and
yet my Lord and Master is as sweet and glorious to me now as He was in
the time of my greatest prosperity;" and then, embracing his friends in
farewell, he committed his spirit into the hands of God and was, the
bystanders declared, "not so much thrown off the ladder by the
executioner, but went readily off himself."
The butchery of the sentence for treason was carried out to the bitter
end, yet of the onlookers there were but a few women who sobbed
hysterically or fainted, and but one or two men who pushed their way
back, sick with the sight and smell of the shambles.
A smartly dressed little gentleman, with a carefully curled wig, had
forced his way as near as possible to the place of execution. His bold
curious eyes let nothing pass unnoticed, yet when the torture of the
half-dead victim was ended even his lips were somewhat white, though he
shouted and waved his hat with the loyal rabble who cheered and cheered
again at the headsman's final speech: "So perish all King Charles's
enemies."
"So perish all his enemies," he repeated, "a very just vengeance, and
'tis my chance to see it, as it was to see the king die at Whitehall.
But Lord, 'tis a bloody business--and to see how cheerful he bore it!"
He rapped on his snuff-box and hemmed away his emotion. "Gad!" he
said, suddenly staring at a face that rose above the crowd near him, "I
was almost fool enough to think the fanatic's prophecy was come true,
and there was General Harrison come alive again! That young fellow
yonder is the very marrow of him! Some one of his family, I dare be
sworn, poor wretch, and doubtless of the same way of thinking. But
'tis as handsome a young sprig as I have seen this long time. Lord,
how time flies, and how one forgets business when there is any
pleasuring toward; my lord will be in a fine fume;" and Mr. Samuel
Pepys walked off towards the Admiralty offices without wasting another
glance at Richard Harrison.
He also pushed blindly on out of the crowd, with the groping step of a
sleep-walker, but as he neared the outskirts of the throng a tap on his
shoulder seemed to awake him, and he straightened himself as he turned
sharply round.
"Come under this archway till the crowd be past," said a short man
muffled in a horseman's cloak. "You are too noticeable, Dick, to walk
abroad to-day."
"It is as safe for me as for you, Mr. Rogers," returned Dick.
"Nay, nay; I am not like unto Saul the son of Kish for stature.
Moreover, none who look on you can question you are kin to the servant
of God who hath even now borne his witness, and this rabble is thirsty
for the blood of the saints. Yet I know you have security--the friends
with whom you have cast in your lot sit now in high places, and General
Monck loves you well."
"General Monck is no friend of mine," returned the young man sternly.
"His friends are those only who sit in the king's court, and can carry
honours to his house."
"I am glad to hear it; I am heartily glad to hear it," replied Mr.
Rogers. "The friendships of this evil generation will avail us little
when the trumpet of the Lord of Hosts doth sound the reveille, and
those poor bones yonder live once more, ay, and that dead hand beckon
us on to victory."
Mr. Rogers was quivering with excitement, and did not notice that
Richard was leaning against the wall with set face, evidently quite
deaf to his harangue. He went on with increased vehemence in the
wildest strain of Fifth Monarchy eloquence.
"The night is dark, yet must we watch till the day dawn!--watch--ay,
and not alone shall our lamps be burning, but our matches are alight
and our muskets loaded. The artillery of the Lord is called out, the
iniquity of this Babylon is full, the saints are even now assembled,
and expect the call to arms. Truly your good aunt doth forget her
widowhood in the expectation of the day that is presently to break.
You also will join us; I know it is long since you have heard the words
of pure doctrine, yet there is a blessing in reserve for the seed of
the righteous, and the filth of the Presbyterian doctrines you learned
in Scotland shall not cleave unto your feet to make them stumble in the
way."
He paused, discovering at last that his eloquence was entirely wasted.
"Dick," he urged, shaking the young man by the arm, "you will not turn
your back on those who shared your uncle's tribulation, and who do
presently expect to share his triumph."
Richard withdrew his arm haughtily. "Mr. Rogers," he answered, "you
mistake if you imagine that I can join you and your friends in any of
your mad undertakings. What I have seen to-day doth but show the
clearer that our cause was lost through our unhappy divisions and
distracted councils. I hold that those that turned my uncle's mind
against the Lord Protector Cromwell will not be held guiltless when the
blame of this day's work is reckoned up."
Mr. Rogers started back, and then, with a violent effort to control
himself--
"For the sake of him who hath even now rendered up himself as a martyr
for the Lord's cause, I may not be angry with any word of yours," he
answered sadly; "but I do entreat of you to take heed! Would you lay
down your arms and live in peace among your cattle and your corn,
coached and complimented into effeminacy and foolishness? Oh, for
shame! Rub your eyes and look about you! What was the fate of the men
of Sodom when they thought Lot was one that mocked when he warned them!"
"Nay," answered Richard, "you do but lose time in seeking to persuade
me. God forbid I should think you mock, but I hold you to be
grievously mistaken. I think not the Kingdom of God is to be brought
to us by the sword; nor will I be a party to endangering any shred of
liberty yet left to the people of England by breaking the peace whether
by word or deed."
"Yet listen," pleaded Rogers, "seeing that even a criminal before the
judge is given freedom to make his defence."
"Say on; I will not interrupt you," answered Richard, wearily.
"Then, let us leave those things that are behind, whether well or ill
done, and leave also the late Protector Oliver Cromwell, seeing his
judgment is in the hands of the Judge of all, who will surely avenge
the tribulation that serpent did bring upon the suffering saints--and
hearken to what is yet to come. We have the most sure word of prophecy
that the Day of the Lord is at hand; therefore the persecuted remnant
who do expect the coming of the Fifth and only Monarch, are even now
assembled with their swords upon their thighs, to publish their
glorious gospel and go forth conquering and to conquer. And in the
train of Him who sitteth upon the white horse, we do confidently expect
to behold General Harrison and those other saints who have died, either
as at this time, or formerly, for the Good Old Cause, raised again in
the flesh, that we and they may all triumph as one man. Mrs. Harrison
doth lay aside her sorrow, and abides with the saints in Colman Street,
to add her praises and prayers unto theirs. When all go forth, let not
one who bears the honoured name of Harrison hang back. Sure thou art
no coward, Dick?"
"Do I take you, that you and your friends do presently intend to raise
an insurrection in this city? cried Richard, in horror.
"Ay, we trust to do our humble part in the great warfare."
"And my unhappy aunt is now at your place of meeting?"
"Ay; she even now expects till the fruition of our hopes be granted,
and General Harrison doth arise from death to lead us on to victory."
"Then, Mr. Rogers, I will go with you. Hold," as the other raised his
hand in an ecstasy of thankfulness, "I go not to join you, but to speak
a word of common sense to your misguided followers, if they will hear
it, and to remove Mrs. Harrison to a place more fitting her sex. You
cannot wish to involve a woman in your schemes of bloodshed!"
"You err--you err," broke in the irrepressible fanatic. "Women have
been but too much denied their just liberty: they have a right as men
to their free course of speech, and to follow the way their conscience
doth point. Nevertheless, you shall say to Sister Harrison all that is
in your heart, and she shall act as the Lord shall direct her, and if
she elect to go forth into desert places and await the consummation of
our hopes afar off, in fasting and prayer, in that fashion also she may
serve the Good Old Cause. Now that the crowd is dispersed, we may go
forth in safety; let us therefore hasten to put the matter to the
touch."
Richard followed Mr. Rogers in silence as he emerged from their place
of shelter, and hurried cityward along the less crowded streets that
lay northward of the Strand. He strode along behind the flying form of
the little minister, inwardly furious at the saintly and exasperating
person who forced him to seek out the company that was precisely the
most painful and uncongenial to him, when his one sole idea was to hide
himself in solitude like some wounded animal and there wrestle down the
grief and horror that possessed him. Yet the grief and horror was
still only in the background of his mind, his brain felt numbed, though
an instinctive dread warned him that they lurked there ready at the
first opportunity to spring out on him with overwhelming force. It was
only by an effort that he could rouse himself to consider what steps he
must take to remove Mrs. Harrison from the party of desperate men among
whom she had thrown herself.
He knew that the extraordinary person in whose company he walked was
completely deaf to the usual reasons that govern men's conduct; but,
mixed up with his insane and even blasphemous beliefs, Mr. Rogers had
occasional flashes of what can only be termed inspired common sense;
and if he were judiciously approached, it was even possible that such
an incalculable person might use his influence to restrain the old
soldiers of his congregation from rushing on immediate destruction.
Mr. Rogers was a gentleman by birth and a scholar by training, and was
therefore accessible to arguments that did not affect the ruder members
of his sect.
Richard had been familiar with Mr. Rogers from his boyhood, and had a
strong personal liking for the affectionate and unselfish little man as
well as a real admiration for the saner points in his doctrines. But
the more he considered, the less he saw how to remonstrate with the
excitable minister without irritating him afresh, and finally, in the
very desperation of helplessness, he resolved to trust to his own
influence over Mrs. Harrison, and hope that Mr. Roger's kindly feelings
would prevent his interfering in any tyrannical manner with the poor
lady's wishes. Having come to this conclusion, he controlled himself
sufficiently to speak to his companion in a more friendly tone.
"By your leave, sir, I should like to stay and give orders as I pass
our lodgings. Mrs. Harrison had set to leave London instantly, and a
hackney coach will be now in waiting at our door. It will be the
better to have it near at hand should she resolve to carry out that
intention; so, if it please you, I will bid the coachman drive her
woman to Colman Street and await near your meeting house till we know
her will."
The minister readily assented, and they turned into Watling Street,
where, as Dick had foretold, a hackney coach stood ready packed before
the mercer's shop that had belonged to Mrs. Harrison's father, and a
groom was leading a stout cob up and down beside it. A waiting woman
in hood and cloak was peering anxiously from the door, but as Dick ran
up the steps he was surprised to find she was not the only watcher. An
officer in the gay uniform of the Coldstream Guards came forward
holding out his hand.
"I have waited a round hour to catch you, Harrison," he said. "I bring
you a message from my Lord Monck."
"I am sorry my lord should have troubled you," answered Dick, stiffly.
"Tut, tut, Harrison; what though we have forsworn our protectorate sins
and got a batch of new ones to suit the new times, we are not all born
to be play-book heroes like you. There are worse men than old George,
and you were as well to listen to his message." And, taking Dick by
the arm, the officer continued earnestly, in a low tone, "You remember
that fellow, Patrick Keith, with whom you quarrelled in Edinburgh; he
is here in London in my Lord Lauderdale's household, and he swears he
will be revenged on you. He gives out he has sufficient evidence that
you are corresponding with Johnson of Warriston and the other Scotch
gentlemen under sentence of outlawry, and that he will see you at the
gallows before he leaves you. Now, you know the fellow is quite able
to forge or trump up evidence enough to be mighty unpleasant, so Lord
Monck prays you give no colour to anything he may say, by frequenting
the company of any suspicious or fanatical people. If you can keep
private a while, his lordship makes no doubt it will all blow over, and
he will use his influence to have Keith sent back to Scotland, or over
sea on some errand."
"I caned Keith in the High Street of Edinburgh for that he kicked a
woman who by chance stood in his way," answered Dick, hotly; "and if I
meet him in Fleet Street, I will cane him once more there."
"That will doubtless be much to the advantage of Keith's manners,"
laughed the other, "but scarce to the furtherance of your safety! Now,
I ride to Harrow to-night--why will you not bear me company and lie at
my house, and so travel into the country for a while. On my honour,
Keith is a dangerous man," he continued, seeing that Richard's
expression of careless contempt did not change. "Every one of us at
court finds his new seat so slippery that he dare not wag a finger for
fear of being upset--and I know none there who dare meddle with my Lord
Lauderdale's favourite. He can tell such a cursed lot of tales of us
all and what we did in Edinburgh in the days when we were all saints
and went to meeting!"
"You are very good," answered Dick, softening; "but I purpose to leave
London within this hour. You see my horse there in waiting."
"I am right glad to hear it," answered the other, heartily. "Then,
farewell, but I trust we shall meet and be merry many a year after Pat
Keith is hanged," and shaking Harrison warmly by the hand, the
guardsman turned on his heel and swaggered down the street.
Dick smiled grimly to himself as he directed the waiting-maid to follow
her mistress in the coach to the Coleman Street meeting-house.
"I am to avoid the company of fanatical people," he muttered. "Heaven
knows I have as little love for them as Old George can have! If I can
but get Aunt Harrison safe into the coach, I give them leave to clap a
Geneva gown on my back if ever I am found in their company again."
The shabby room in Coleman Street, where the Fifth Monarchy men were in
the habit of assembling, was crowded with men, and the first glance
showed with what ominous intentions the congregation were assembled.
On a rickety platform at the end of the of the room a preacher in a
Geneva gown was holding forth in the most violent language of the sect,
and all around the grim listeners hung on his words with immovable
attention, leaning on their pikes or holding their drawn swords across
their knees. Many were old soldiers, their stained buff-coats and
scarred faces telling tales of Naseby and Marston Moor, and contrasting
with the prim bands and well-brushed cloaks of the citizen members of
the congregation.
As the new-comers entered, the preacher paused in his harangue, and a
hum of welcome went up from the armed ranks to greet their arrival.
But one white-haired old soldier sprang up with a shout of exultation
that was almost a scream.
"Glory, glory," he shrieked, "the General is risen from the dead! The
power of Satan is broken!" and rushing forward he flung his arms round
Dick in an ecstacy of welcome.
"Nay, nay, brother Day," said Mr. Rogers, stepping forward, "you
mistake; this is Richard Harrison who fought beside you at Worcester;
he is come to speak with his kinswoman. We must yet for a little
possess our souls with patience," he continued; drawing the old man's
hand on his arm, and leading him to a seat he sat down beside him,
exhorting him in a low voice, while Dick made his way to the corner
where Mrs. Harrison sat, her head bowed on her hands.
To his astonishment and relief, she did not immediately refuse his
invitation to accompany him; a woman of gentle nature and rather dull
intelligence, she naturally clung to her nephew as the dearest thing
left to her in her sorrow, and although she pleaded at first faintly
that he would not take her away from the comfort of Mr. Feake's
exhortations and the expectation of the miracle he foretold, she showed
herself quite ready to listen to his persuasions.
"Dearest madam," he urged, "when the Great Day of the Lord doth arrive,
it will surely be of no moment whether it find you in London or in
Newcastle; it will be as the lightning that shineth from the east even
unto the west. But for to-day they are at an end of the preaching; you
will hear no more if you tarry; you see these men have their weapons
prepared, and are ready to burst out into insurrection; this is no fit
place for you."
She murmured something of going back to her house in Watling Street.
"Nay, nay," urged Richard; "all our friends in Newcastle await you.
Come home with me to Staffordshire, and await events there. Sure it is
in General Harrison's own house that he would desire you to be?"
He took her hand to lead her from the room, and she rose obediently;
but several of the congregation who sat near and observed his action,
protested in audible tones, and those further off, only half catching
what was going on, joined in even more loudly.
"Who is this man who is not of us, and hath forced himself among us?"
cried one. "A spy! a spy!" cried another.
Mr. Rogers pushed forward.
"Shame, shame, brethren; let no man dare to call the kinsman of a
martyr a spy! This is Richard Harrison, and it is but decent he have
leave to come and go and speak with his kinswoman in liberty."
"Nay," broke in another, "as for our sister Harrison, let her go in
peace, seeing the day of slaughter is near, and the women should abide
in safety by the stuff. But as for this man, he shall remain. Shall
he go forth and sit lazily while his brethren fight for Canaan? It may
be that godly exhortation and the example of valiant men may turn him
from the error of his ways ere it be too late."
"Ay," cried a grizzled soldier pressing forward, "he shall be snatched
out of the fire! Even by force shall he be turned from the way of
destruction, and be found in the Lord's ranks on the day of Armageddon."
"Gentlemen," broke in Richard, "let me but carry Mrs. Harrison to her
coach, and upon my honour I will return and give you my reasons for not
joining with you. Let us not fall into debate before a lady."
After a little hesitation his hearers agreed, and Richard led his
trembling aunt out of the meeting-house, but two sturdy armed fanatics
followed him closely to make sure he did not escape from the advantages
they proposed to force him to accept.
The shouts and excitement in the meeting-house had warned the
passers-by that something was in the wind, and a good many loiterers
were hanging about the doors, who welcomed them with cries of "Whoop,
Roundhead! whoop, crop ears!" and ribald parodies on the war-like
psalms, whose sound could be clearly heard through the open windows of
the room they had just left.
To Dick's vexation many of the idlers seemed familiar with the names of
the leaders of the Fifth Monarchy sect, and not only shouted for Parson
Rogers, but hailed Madam Harrison and her nephew with expressions of
mock respect. Dick hurried her into the coach with all speed, and
signed to his servant to lead his horse down a retired alley, but the
aspect of the gathering crowd was so threatening, and that of his
attendant saints so grim, that he began to suspect that his only escape
from being stoned by the unbelieving mob, or run through by a Fifth
Monarchy corporal, would be to be laid by the heels in a city jail!
But the rising commotion in the street was nothing to the commotion
that greeted Dick as he re-entered the meeting-house. Some were
clamouring for vengeance on the spy who had signalled the mob to gather
round their door, others urging Richard to save himself from the fate
awaiting impenitent sinners by immediately drawing his sword in the
Fifth Monarchy cause, while others, of whom Mr. Rogers was chief, were
clamouring for liberty for tender conscience and long suffering with
those of feeble faith. The shouting was so violent that the
congregation effectually deafened themselves to the knocking that began
to make itself heard at the door of the room, and it was not till the
knocking changed to the clang of crowbars, and the door gave way before
the assailants, that the excited fanatics realized that their enemies
were upon them. The doorways were filled with the pikes and muskets of
a strong body of soldiers, and an officer pressing his way to the front
called upon the principal leaders of the Fifth Monarchy men by name to
surrender themselves. Feake, Powell, John Rogers, Courteney, Day, and
Richard Harrison were the names that rang out above the shouts of the
sectaries, who, crying out that the day of the Lord was come, charged
outwards with such impetuosity that the soldiers were for a moment
forced backwards.
Dick stood watching the conflict with a feeling of grim amusement.
Fate had played into the hands of his Scotch enemy with a vengeance,
and his presence among these desperate fanatics would corroborate any
accusation that the ingenuity of malice could invent. His arm was
caught by John Rogers.
"Fly, Dick, fly," he urged; "thou art not one of us, neither hast thou
any part in our warfare. Save thyself; that window looks out on a lane
they will scarce have thought to guard."
"Come you too, Mr. Rogers," cried Dick, endeavouring to draw the
minister towards the open window.
"Nay, nay, I abide with my comrades to live and die with them. But
begone--your time is not yet; none but the elect may abide the fury of
the Lord's foemen. Begone."
Richard hesitated. It was impossible to escape and leave this heroic
fanatic to his fate; but words were wasted on John Rogers, so, suddenly
seizing the minister's slight form in his stalwart arms, Dick thrust
him up on the high window-sill and, swinging himself up beside him,
dropped with his prisoner into the soft mud of a back lane. Without
waiting for the reproaches Mr. Rogers was too breathless to formulate,
Dick hurried him down the dark road toward the corner where he knew his
horse was waiting.
"Mount behind me, sir," he urged, catching the rein from the trusty
servant.
"Nay, nay," replied Mr. Rogers; "thou art a good lad, Dick, and it may
be the Lord hath reserved both thee and me for further service. I have
many friends and hiding places in this city--go thy way, and God be
with thee;" and he vanished into the shadows, while Dick, drawing in
the cool night air with a long breath of relief, struck into the road
for the north, and left the shouts and yells of the combatants far
behind him.