The Young Cavalier: A Story of the Civil Wars

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The Young Cavalier: A Story of the Civil Wars Page 6

by Percy F. Westerman


  CHAPTER VI

  EDGEHILL

  DURING our stay at Oxford various reports and rumours reached usconcerning the position of the King's forces, and at length definiteinformation was brought that the Royalists were marching fromShrewsbury to give battle to the Earl of Essex, who was supposed tobe retiring to prevent the King's advance on the rebel City ofLondon.

  Colonel Firestone deemed it impracticable to attempt to join theRoyal camp with the rebels lying betwixt it and us; so we were forcedto remain in galling inactivity till the road northward should befree of the enemy.

  Early one morning a spent and mud-stained horseman drew in his jadedsteed at Carfax, and immediately the news spread that the King hadgained Banbury, thus putting himself between the rebels and London,while a battle was imminent on the following day.

  Without a moment's delay we set out for the Royal camp, our partyconsisting of Colonel Firestone, Granville, and myself, with SergeantLawson and Wat in attendance, while two spare horses carried ourbaggage.

  Two hours' hard riding brought us in sight of the town of Banbury,outside of which were the tents of the Royalists. On reportingourselves to Prince Rupert--for we were to be attached to his troopof horse--we were shown to a tent and told to rest, yet to holdourselves in instant readiness for an attack on the rebel forces.

  But rest for us was an impossibility. Granville wandered about thelines, to see whether any of his Cornish relatives were serving inthe Prince's cavalry, while I naturally wished to see my father assoon as possible, though I was told that Sir Reginald Markham wasaway on special service, and would not return to the camp beforenightfall.

  Colonel Firestone wished to hand his precious documents personally tothe King; I never saw the papers, and often wondered where he keptthem; and, on being informed that His Majesty was not within thecamp, and that his whereabouts were to be kept secret, the colonel'sdisappointment was most marked.

  He was resolved, like many other officers, to fight under Rupert'sstandard as an ordinary gentleman, and, seeing that it was impossibleto approach His Majesty, he spent the time writing, readingpocket-books on military matters, and overhauling his weapons.

  Just as the sun was setting, a small band of horsemen dashed into thecamp, and, dismounting, made their way to the Prince's tent, and oneof the party I knew full well. It was my father.

  "Wait a moment, Humphrey," exclaimed Colonel Firestone, "and I'll gowith you. Your sire will not be long with the Prince, I trove."

  Together we made our way through the press of roystering soldiers,till we reached the tent, where two armed troopers kept guard overPrince Rupert's person, and in less than five minutes my fatherreappeared.

  He greeted me with great affection, commending my loyal resolution inthrowing in my lot with the King's forces, assuring me that therewere many youths of gentle birth who were also in the field.

  "And hest not a word of welcome for an old comrade?" exclaimed mycompanion.

  "Nay, I know you not," replied my father, looking steadfastly intothe colonel's face. Then, after a pause, he exclaimed:

  "Why, 'tis Nick Firestone!"

  "The same," replied the colonel, wringing my father's hand. "Have Ichanged so much that my old companion-in-arms cannot call me to name?How is it with thee?"

  "A man may change much in a score years," said my father, "but,thanks to an active life, I feel as strong and as well as in the darkdays of 'twenty-seven, save that my legs are somewhat cramped withrheumatism, though my arm is as strong as of yore. Where lies yourtent?" he asked.

  "Next but one to your own, sir," I replied. "At least, that is what Ihave been told."

  "'Tis well," he replied, "for twelve hours in the saddle is apt togive one a keen hunger, to say nothing of an aching frame."

  "I have brought an air bed for you from home," I exclaimed.

  "An air what, forsooth?" asked my father.

  I hastened to explain the nature of this admirable contrivance asgiven by worthy Master Royston, and, on arriving at our lines, I sentLawson to get the novel article from the baggage.

  We talked till late in the evening, my parent plying me withquestions concerning affairs at home, and telling us of the events ofthe last few weeks.

  "Dost know that, according to the rebel order, Ashley Castle nolonger belongs to the Markhams?" asked my father.

  "Nay, sir," I replied. "What dost thou mean; is it a jest?"

  "Hardly a jest, Humphrey. Only yester-night we surprised a rebeldespatch-bearer on the road near Stratford, and amongst other paperswas a list of manors and castles to be bestowed by the Parliament ontheir chief supporters, and amongst the places named was mine owncastle."

  "And on whom is it bestowed?"

  "On one Captain Chaloner."

  "Captain Chaloner!" exclaimed Firestone. "Why, 'tis the man whoallowed the rebels to seize Southsea Castle, the same who was hand inglove with the turncoat, Goring."

  "He's to gain possession of Ashley Castle first," rejoined my fathergrimly; "and 'tis certain that, so long as my wife keeps watch andward, no doubly-dyed rebel will set foot over my threshold--but howcame Portsmouth to fall, considering it was well fortified andsupplied with munition of war?"

  We thereupon had to tell my father the events that led to Goring'sfeeble and faint-hearted pretence of holding the town for the King,and, at the story of Chaloner's treacherous incapacity, my parentshook his fist in impotent rage.

  At length it was time for us to retire to our own tent, and, havinginflated the air-bed for my father's use by means of a pump, we badehim good night.

  Late into the night sounds of revelry disturbed the camp, men gamingor singing in uproarious discord, till gradually the babel died away,and silence reigned over the sleeping town of tents, broken only bythe frequent voices of the sentries on guard without the lines.

  It was my first experience of camp life, and sleep seemed a stranger tome. The hard ground found out the weak places in my anatomy, till myshoulder-blades and hips were sore and aching, for as yet I knewnothing of the old campaigners' trick of hollowing out the earth toaccommodate these protuberances and I lay and longed for the dawn.

  Suddenly an alarm echoed through the stillness of the night, andinstantly the camp was alive with men rushing hither and thither.

  Our tent turned out to a man, and, putting on our steel caps, andbuckling on our sword-belts as we ran, we formed up in an irregularline outside the camp, in expectation of a sudden attack, yet, thoughan outpost of musketeers discharged their weapons, there came noanswering volley from the supposed enemy.

  Nor was the alarm confined to our lines, for, on our left, themusketeers of Sir Jacob Ashley's infantry were also formed up withmatches lighted, and on our right the cannoniers under Sir JohnHeyden were advancing their ordnance to meet the attack.

  In the midst of the confusion a tall, dark figure mounted on arestive horse rode towards us, followed by a body of cavalry.

  It was Prince Rupert.

  "Back to your tents, gentlemen!" he shouted, and it seemed that hisvoice was broken with suppressed laughter. "'Tis but a false alarm!"

  And ere long the whole camp knew the cause of the sudden uproar--myfather's air-bed had burst, and, finding himself flung all of a heapon the ground, he had imagined, being roused from sleep, that therebels were upon us, and had raised the shout that roused the camp!

  Daylight found the camp astir, for, with the knowledge that therebels were within ten miles of us, excitement ran high. For my part,I must confess the principal thought that ran uppermost in my mindwas not that of the coming conflict, but a vague uneasiness as towhat was happening at home--whether that traitorous villain,Chaloner, had actually made an attempt to secure Ashley Manor,illegally bestowed upon him by the very side he had professed toabhor.

  Firestone, on his part, was in a state of feverish anxiety, for,though, like an old soldier, he was longing for the clash of arms, hewas burning with impatience to deliver his despatches personally toHis Majesty, this being the
express injunction laid upon him ere hequitted the French court.

  But again his hopes were thwarted, for the King had, we now learned,gone overnight to sleep at Nellthorpe House, and, up to the actualmoment of the army taking up a battle formation, he had not put in anappearance, as a council was being held in the town of Banbury. Itwas considerably after midday ere we received orders to march, and,on gaining the brow of a steep hill, I saw the rebel host in closearray on the plains beneath us.

  Presently I heard the dull boom of a cannon away on our left,followed by a heavy fire, to which the rebels answered, though not sovigorously.

  But we were not left long in that suspense which is so trying to thenerves of a soldier, for Prince Rupert, standing in his stirrups,waved his sword for our cavalry to advance.

  Prince Rupert having given the signal for the cavalry to advance, Iset my teeth tightly, spurred my steed, and joined in the charge,being in the second rank, with Firestone on my left and my father onmy right.

  Before us lay the dense serried masses of Essex's cavalry, but, to mysurprise, just before the trumpets sounded the charge, a whole troopof the enemy suddenly rode towards us with signs of friendship.Wheeling by our right, they fell in with our cavalry, and at onceprepared to charge their former comrades.

  This troop, I afterwards learned, were Sir Faithful Fortescue'stroopers, who had but recently returned from Ireland; but, beingunable to make their way to the Royal camp, had feigned to throw intheir lot with the rebels until a favourable opportunity occurred todeclare themselves openly.

  The next instant we were launched at full gallop upon the rebelcavalry, and of what happened during the next few moments I have buta dim recollection. It was cut, thrust, and parry. Men went down,still striking madly at their assailants, whilst riderless horsesadded to the confusion; but I knew that we had the best of thestruggle, because we were ever advancing.

  Suddenly Firestone's horse plunged violently and fell on its knees,while its rider, slipping from off his saddle, rolled over, vainlyendeavouring to throw himself clear of his floundering steed.

  At that moment one of the rebel dragoons, a veritable Anak, receiveda cut in the face, and, half blinded and maddened by the pain, heslashed furiously right and left.

  I wheeled to escape the resistless sweep of his sword, and, to myhorror, I saw the weapon bury itself in Colonel Firestone's leg,shearing through jack-boot, limb, and even the saddle.

  The next instant I was urged onward by the rush of the combatants,and, much as I desired to, I was unable to help my luckless comrade.In a few minutes the rebel cavalry had broken and were in hot flight,while at their heels came our triumphant troopers, slashing andhewing at the fugitives without mercy.

  In the excitement of the pursuit time and distance were forgotten,till at length, breathless and triumphant, our cavalry gave up thechase, re-formed, and prepared to return to that part of the field ofbattle where, by the sound of heavy firing, we knew the contest stillraged furiously.

  Before this was done, however, we were assailed by a body of rebelhorse, which, launching itself on our rearguard, played havoc tilldriven off by superior numbers.

  When at length we regained our former position we were confronted bya solid phalanx of pikemen and musketeers, who presented such aredoubtable appearance that Prince Rupert hesitated to order a freshcharge. So with an occasional cannonade the battle ended just asnight drew in upon the scene.

  "Hast seen Colonel Firestone?" asked Granville, as he wiped hisdust-and blood-stained face with a handkerchief of delicate cambric.

  "Down yonder, I fear," I replied sadly, indicating the darkeningplain on which the indistinct forms of the fallen could still beseen. "I saw him hurled from his horse with his leg shorn off at asingle blow."

  "Perchance he still lives."

  "But I could scarcely believe that. He is more likely to have bled todeath," said I. "Be that as it may, however, we'll make an effort tofind him."

  And, giving our horses in charge of a camp follower, we sought outSergeant Lawson, who willingly agreed to accompany us.

  Bending as we went--for the enemy's matches still glimmered inreadiness to open fire--we cautiously made our way over the ground inthe direction clearly indicated by the slain who fell during ourbrilliant charge.

  Here and there maimed horses still kicked and writhed in agony, whileat intervals a man would implore our pity and help, though most ofthe slightly wounded had managed to regain the shelter of our lines.At length we came upon a confused jumble of men and horses, andpinned down by the weight of his dead charger lay our hapless friend.

  By our combined efforts we managed to extricate his body from beneaththe animal, and to our great surprise and intense delight the bravecolonel opened his eyes.

  A brief examination showed that his right leg had been cleanly hewnthrough, the upper part of his boot still remaining over his knee;but again with infinite surprise I noticed that there was no trace ofblood, and the next instant the truth flashed across my mind.

  Colonel Nicholas Firestone had a wooden leg!

  Stooping down, Lawson grasped the colonel under his arms, whileGranville lifted his remaining leg, and cautiously we began ourperilous journey back to the camp; but hardly had we gone a few paceswhen Firestone whispered:

  "Bring the pieces with you, Humphrey. My severed leg, I mean, for'tis of much consequence that this be done."

  Wondering what he meant, yet loth to thwart what I took to be thewhim of a half-dazed man, I returned, picked up the severed boot withits wooden contents, and overtook my comrades, and half an hour laterwe were safely within the Royal lines.

  Here, with considerable difficulty, we procured a rough litter, and,placing our wounded friend upon it, we bore him towards the camp, incompany with a constant stream of burdens, for the most part farsadder than our own.

  As we approached I noticed a group of officers standing in arespectful attitude at a short distance from a slender, heavilycloaked figure. Instinct told me it was our Sovereign, who, having byhis courage inspired his troops to fight a brilliant thoughindecisive action, was not slow in sympathising with those who hadfallen in his cause.

  "'Tis the King," I whispered to our wounded companion.

  "Then hand me my severed leg," he rejoined with astonishingimperativeness.

  My surprise prevented me from asking the reason, and without a word Idid as he requested.

  As the litter approached His Majesty, I noticed Firestone feverishlyemployed in taking the remains of his wooden leg from the encasingleather boot, and, having done this, he began to unscrew a portion ofthe limb. A few turns and the leg came apart, disclosing a cavity,from which the colonel drew a lightly rolled packet of papers.

  "Art badly hurt?" asked His Majesty, as the glimmer of a lantern fellupon the figure in the stretcher.

  "No, sire," replied Firestone cheerfully. "'Tis not a case for thesurgeon; a carpenter will suffice."

  "How so, sirrah?" exclaimed the King with astonishment.

  In a few words Colonel Firestone explained the circumstances, andhanded the precious despatches to His Majesty.

  Tearing open the covering, the King called for the lantern to bebrought nearer to enable him to read the contents, and by the feeblelight I saw his clear-cut features brighten as he perused themessage.

  "Gentlemen," he explained, addressing the officers in attendance, "wehave just received an important and encouraging message from ourcousin of France, but of this more anon. But why didst thou riskthese papers in the battlefield instead of handing them to us?" headded, addressing Colonel Firestone.

  "Acting under direct orders, sire," he replied, "that thesedespatches were to be given only into Your Majesty's hands."

  "And yet with these in your possession you risked your life and thesedespatches on the battlefield?"

  "My life is my own, and I chose to risk it in Your Majesty's cause,"replied Firestone stoutly. "But as for the papers, I took precautionsto ensure them reaching Your Majesty's hands
should I have fallen."

  "We'll not ask a gallant soldier to explain the matter," said theKing, "for 'tis certain his arrangements were well made. The factremains that he has performed his mission to our satisfaction, amatter which we will bear in mind."

  And, motioning the stretcher-bearers to proceed, the King returnedthe colonel's salute and directed his attention to the next arrivalof that seemingly endless procession.

  Having seen our charge safely within his tent, we sent for acarpenter to replace his severed stump, a task which, though roughlyperformed, the colonel considered satisfactory. But the severeshaking he received by his fall prevented his taking the field againthat night, and we were compelled to leave him and again take ourplace in the line of battle.

  All that night and during the next day we lay under arms, both sidesfacing each other, yet refraining from exchanging shots, and asevening drew in we were greatly surprised and not a little delightedto see the rebel army withdrawing in the direction of Warwick.

  The approach of winter necessitated both armies going into winterquarters, and, having obtained permission to withdraw, my father,accompanied by Colonel Firestone and myself, determined to returnto Ashley, while Ralph Granville set out for his Cornish home.

  He and I were sorry indeed to part company, and, sure enough, therecame times, of which you are now to hear, when I could have done wellwith so trusty a friend at my right hand.

 

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