Boscobel; or, the royal oak: A tale of the year 1651

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  WHAT CHARLES BEHELD FROM THE SUMMIT OF THE CATHEDRAL TOWER.

  Brightly dawned the fatal 3rd of September, 1651, as if the day justbreaking were destined to be one of peace and rejoicing rather than ofstrife and bloodshed. But the gladdening influence of the sunshine thatgilded its towers, spires, and pinnacles could not dispel the gloomhanging over the devoted city. Men sprang from their restless couchesoppressed with the sense that the dreadful contest in which they mustof necessity take part was close at hand. Before night the king's fatewould probably be decided. If he fell, the city dedicated to his causewould fall with him.

  This conviction forced itself upon the minds of all who arose that mornin Worcester. After arming themselves, many of the soldier citizenslooked round at their quiet homes as if taking leave of them forever, or gazed with unspeakable anguish at their wives and children,well knowing the beloved ones would not be spared if the ruthlessParliamentarians should obtain the mastery. Some few were unmanned, butthe majority faced the terrible situation resolutely, and conqueredtheir emotion. Of victory they had now but little hope, yet theydid not absolutely despair, since in war there is always a chance.Their word had been given to the king, and it must be kept, be theconsequences what they might. If they could not secure him the thronethey could die for him, and they were determined to sell their livesdearly. As to surrender, such a thought never occurred to these loyalfolks, and if advantageous terms had been offered by Cromwell theywould have rejected the dishonouring proposal with scorn.

  Half an hour before daybreak the reveill? was beaten in the streets,the citizens who belonged to the different corps having been orderedto muster at an early hour on the College Green, at the Cross, and inother places. To these different points they were now marching, and theclank of arms resounded in all quarters.

  The men of Worcester were not inexperienced in military service, mostof them having been engaged in the two previous sieges of the city. Aconsiderable number were employed on the walls and fortifications toassist the regular artillerymen, but others were formed into companies,each corps being commanded by a skilled officer. These companies wereintended as a reserve force. The city being under military rule, theauthority of the mayor was to a certain extent superseded, but he hadquite enough to do as commander of the mounted civic guard, which beingaugmented by recruits brought by gentlemen of the county new formed aregiment four hundred strong.

  All the gates of the city were strongly guarded, and, as alreadyintimated, the Foregate, which formed the principal outlet on thenorth, had been walled up. No one, without an order, could cross thebridge; and no boats, except the large flat-bottomed ferry-boatsemployed for the transit of troops and horses, were allowed on theriver.

  Grim war had set its stamp on Worcester. Since the citizens had allbecome soldiers, there seemed to be soldiers everywhere--none butsoldiers. No women were abroad; they were afraid to stir forth, andwould fain have barricaded their dwellings. The clank of arms, thebeating of drums, the call of the bugle, were the only sounds heard inthe streets.

  The churches were open, and those who chose stepped in to breathe aprayer--the last, perhaps, they might ever utter. Alas! how thosesacred edifices were soon afterwards profaned! The taverns likewisewere open--indeed, they had been open all night--and were full ofCavaliers fortifying themselves before assembling for duty with amorning's draught of canary. A large body of the mounted civic guardwas drawn up in front of the Guildhall awaiting the mayor's appearance,while small detachments were patrolling the streets. In the Corn Marketthe king's body-guard was assembled, ready to escort his majesty to thecathedral.

  As soon as it became light, anxious looks were directed towards thestrong intrenchments thrown up by Cromwell on Perry Wood, and to thecamp on Red Hill, but no movements were distinguishable at either place.

  Charles was as early astir as any of the citizens. He had sleptsoundly on the last night he was destined to pass at Worcester, andawoke refreshed and in good spirits, fully prepared for any perilsand fatigue he might encounter. Had he known all he would have to gothrough during the next twenty-four hours he might have felt gratefulfor the good night's rest he had enjoyed.

  Half an hour before daybreak he was roused by Careless, and aftermaking a hearty breakfast with Lord Derby, put on his armour and rodewith the earl to the cathedral.

  A council of war had been summoned to meet the king soon after daybreakon the summit of the cathedral tower, whence the whole surroundingdistrict could be surveyed, and the movements of the enemy more easilydiscovered than from any other post of observation in the city, and hismajesty was now proceeding to the place of rendezvous.

  Alighting at the northern portal, Charles and the Earl of Derbyentered the sacred edifice, and found the Duke of Hamilton, the Dukeof Buckingham, the Earl of Lauderdale, Lord Talbot, Lord Wilmot, LordRothes, and several other distinguished personages, assembled in thenave.

  All being fully armed, they formed a very striking group. The anxiousexpression of their countenances, which none cared to conceal, showedhow deeply they were impressed with the perilous position of affairs.Charles appeared far more hopeful than his generals, and returned theirgrave salutations with a cheerfulness that surprised some of those whoexpected to find him despondent.

  Massey had so far recovered from his wounds that he was able to attendthe council, and Pitscottie was likewise present; but Montgomery,Keith, Drummond, Dalyell, and Sir Alexander Forbes were necessarilyabsent, and Lesley had sent an excuse.

  Several small groups of soldiers were collected within the cathedral,and amongst them were half a dozen Highlanders, who formed Pitscottie'sguard.

  Inviting the members of the council to follow him, the king proceededto the north aisle of the choir, in which was the entrance to a spiralstone staircase communicating with the tower. Two musketeers werestationed at this door. Careless mounted first; the king went next, andthe others followed, as they might, in no particular order.

  In the belfry, which he soon reached, Charles found Middleton andColonel Legge, and was well pleased to see them, but being impatient,he scarcely paused a moment, and quickly ascended a second circularstaircase, narrower and steeper than the first, and soon gained thesummit of the tower.

  A wide and beautiful prospect now lay before him, but it was not thebeauty or extent of the landscape that attracted him. The lofty post hehad attained enabled him to see the whole of the adjoining districtson the south and south-east of the city, Red Hill and Perry Wood, bothbanks of the river, the junction of the Teme and the Severn, Powickwith its church crowning a woody eminence, and all the country skirtingthe right bank of the Severn, and lying between Powick and Upton.

  But before proceeding with our description, let us say a word about thecathedral tower, on the summit of which the king stood.

  Some five centuries old, being finished in 1374, this structure, oneof the finest in the kingdom, and the richest in embellishment, isupwards of one hundred and sixty feet high, measured from the roofof the central transept from which it springs. Exquisite tabernaclework surrounds the upper stage, and the eastern fa?ade is ornamentedby figures, one of which represents Edward III., at the latter end ofwhose reign the tower was completed. Viewed from all points, owingto the position of the reverend pile it adorns, the tower appears tosingular advantage.

  About fifty years subsequent to the date of our history, this noblestructure was repaired--judiciously repaired, we are bound to add--andthe existing pinnacles and battlements were erected. In other respectsit is unaltered since Charles II.'s time, except what has been doneinternally in the belfry and clock-chamber by the unwearied exertionsof the Rev. Richard Cattley, one of the present minor canons of thecathedral.[6] As the battlements at the time of our history were morethan six feet high, a wooden platform had been constructed to enablethe king and his attendants to look over them without inconvenience.Above the tower, on a tall flag-staff, floated the royal standard.

  Springing up the wooden s
teps Charles leaned over the south parapet,and gazed eagerly at the posts of the enemy. In another minute thewhole of the battlements were thronged, and a dozen field-glassesanxiously directed towards Perry Wood and Red Hill.

  The main body of the Parliamentary army which now occupied the formerpost remained stationary, but it was evident that some movement wastaking place on the western slopes of Red Hill--probably in thedirection of the Severn--and thinking this might be so, Charlesdirected his scrutiny to the near bank of the river, but though hescanned it carefully for a couple of miles he could discern nothing tojustify alarm. The river that flowed past the lofty pile on which hestood was nowhere disturbed. Next following the Teme from its pointof junction with the larger river--its course being easily traced bythe withies and willows fringing its banks--his eye rested on the oldbridge of Powick. A desperate effort he had always felt would be madeby the enemy, early in the day, to secure this pass; but he did notforesee, nor did any of his generals foresee, the skilful manoeuvre bywhich its capture would be effected.

  Charles had every reliance on General Montgomery's vigilance andbravery, supported as he was by Colonel George Keith.

  Viewed from the cathedral tower on that bright morning, Powick seemedclose at hand, and though the old bridge was partially veiled in aslight mist arising from the river, Montgomery's brigade could be seendrawn up on Wykefield, a large meadow, close beside it--the helmets andaccoutrements of the men flashing in the sunbeams.

  Satisfied that Montgomery was on the alert, and that no immediatedanger threatened him, Charles continued his inspection, and, with hisfield-glass, swept the district lying between Powick and Upton.

  Suddenly an exclamation broke from him that caused all the otherglasses to be turned in the same direction as his own, and it was thenperceived by all that a large body of cavalry was skirting the OldHills.

  Almost immediately afterwards another regiment of horse could bedescried somewhat nearer the Severn. Both were evidently advancing uponPowick Bridge.

  "That must be Fleetwood's brigade," cried Charles, still keeping hisglass fixed on the troops.

  "Your majesty is right," observed Massey, who was standing behind theking. "It is Fleetwood's regiment--Ingoldsby is nearer the river--andwith him are Goff and Gibbons. The troops coming through Woodsfieldcopse, if I mistake not, are commanded by General Deane. Montgomerywill have enough to do to maintain the bridge against such odds."

  "He must be reinforced--and quickly," cried Charles. "No troops can bespared from the city. Dalyell must send a detachment from St. John's.Careless shall take a message to him at once."

  "I will go myself, sire," said Massey, "and take command of thedetachment."

  "But have you strength enough for the task, general?"

  "My strength will return when I meet the enemy," rejoined Massey.

  Charles did not attempt to stay him, and he departed.

  Again the king watched the regiments advancing from Upton. They cameon slowly and cautiously, while the skirmishers scoured the fields andlanes.

  "How is this?" cried Charles, angrily. "Are they to be allowed to reachPowick without hindrance?"

  "Not so, my liege," replied Middleton, who had taken Massey's placebehind the king. "They will meet with a warm reception anon. Look moreclosely, and you will perceive that the hedges are lined with soldiers.Those are your new recruits, and they are just the men for this sort ofwork. Ah! they are beginning in earnest now."

  As he spoke, firing was heard in the distance, and looking in thedirection of the sound, Charles perceived that several of theskirmishers had been shot down, while the riderless horses werecareering wildly over the field.

  A stronger party was instantly sent on to clear the hedges. But thiswas no easy task. General Middleton was right. The new recruitsunderstood this kind of fighting. Excellent marksmen, and well posted,they gave their enemies a vast deal of trouble. Driven from one spot,they quickly took up another position, and even while retreatingmanaged to do considerable execution. Their officers knew every inch ofground, and where to place them. Advantage was taken of every lane anddefile, and the enemy's progress towards Powick was very considerablychecked.

  Among the officers who commanded these gallant little bands, which werescattered about the coppices and orchards in order to distract theenemy, and if possible throw him into confusion, were Colonel Lane,Captain Hornyold, and Sir Rowland Berkeley of Cotheridge. Sir Rowlandrode a piebald horse, and the peculiarity of his steed caused him tobe remarked by Colonel Goff. In Sir Rowland's corps were LieutenantVosper and Corporal Trubshaw, both of whom displayed great courage.Half of this brave little corps were cut down; but the rest--and Vosperand Trubshaw were among them--reached Powick Bridge, and were thenposted with Captain Woolfe in a water-mill on the banks of the Teme.