“Haste thee to Madresfield Court,” he said to Careless. “Bring a detachment of horse to scour these hills. I will have the villains who have dared to lay hands upon me.”
“Your majesty — —”
“Obey me. I shall have Colonel Lane and Sir Clement Fisher with me. Away! Spare not the spur.”
Thus enjoined, Careless dashed down the rocks at the hazard of his neck.
Charles then descended to his preservers, who had moved to a less rugged spot, and thanked them heartily.
“The prophecy is fulfilled,” he said to Jane. “You have saved my life.”
“Nay, it was Sir Clement who delivered you, sire,” she replied. “But I may, at least, claim the merit of having perceived your majesty’s peril.”
“You may claim more,” remarked Sir Clement Fisher. “Had it not been for your coolness and self-possession, we could not have succeeded in effecting his majesty’s deliverance.”
“I said you are my guardian angel, and so you are,” cried Charles. “But I must learn what took place. Let me have the description from your own lips.”
“Since your majesty commands me, I must speak, though Sir Clement could better explain the matter,” she rejoined, blushing. “Then, thus it was, sire. We had accomplished our errand, and were returning through yonder pass between the hills, when we observed your majesty and Major Careless near the beacon. We could see you both quite distinctly, and our gaze never quitted you till you were about to commence your descent. I then begged my brother to quit the lower road, in order that we might meet you as you came down. Your course lay towards those rocks, and while gazing in that direction, I noticed some armed men moving stealthily about among them, and pointed them out to my brother and Sir Clement, who at once recognised them as rebel soldiers, and felt sure that an ambuscade had been placed there. What was to be done? Impossible to warn you. A plan occurred to me. I showed my companions how, by keeping among the rocks, we could approach the ambuscading party unperceived, and they followed my counsel, as it seemed the sole chance of saving your majesty. We got near enough to enable Sir Clement to bring down the leader of the troop.”
“And luckily not another shot was needed,” said Sir Clement.
“I know not whether you were my deliverer or Sir Clement,” said Charles. “But I am equally indebted to you both. And now you must all accompany me to Madresfield Court. I shall need your escort, gentlemen.”
* * *
CHAPTER VII.
HOW COLONEL LEGGE BROUGHT IMPORTANT NEWS TO THE KING, AND HOW HIS MAJESTY PAID A VISIT TO SEVERN END.
Careless was able to execute the king’s commands much more quickly than he expected. Encountering a small party of dragoons near Malvern, he ordered them to scour the lower part of the hill, while he himself re-ascended the heights. The Roundheads, however, had made good their retreat. They had hidden their horses, it appeared, in a deep chasm, on the hill-side, and after their unsuccessful attempt, had descended into the plain, where they were lost among the woods.
A singular discovery was made by Careless. On visiting the rock, on which the commandant had fallen, he found the spot stained with blood, but the body was gone. By whom had it been removed? Not by the Roundheads — that was certain. In all probability Colonel James had not been mortally wounded, as was at first supposed, but had recovered sufficient strength to crawl off. The search made for him proved ineffectual, and Careless was obliged to return to Madresfield Court without having effected a single capture. The king having by this time recovered his good-humour, laughed at his aide-de-camp’s ill success.
“Oddsfish!” he exclaimed. “I had nearly lost my crown by that foolish ascent of the Worcestershire Beacon — rather too high a price to pay for a fine view.”
His majesty was alone, Colonel Lane and those with him having proceeded to Worcester.
Next morn, Charles arose betimes, broke his fast lightly, and had just mounted his charger with the intention of setting off to Worcester, when his departure was stayed by the arrival of Colonel Legge, one of his most gallant and trusted officers, and familiarly called by his majesty “Honest Will.”
Colonel Legge brought very important news. He had been with a reconnoitering party to Evesham, and had captured a couple of Roundhead scouts, from whom he had obtained information respecting the enemy’s movements. Cromwell was approaching with a large army, having seventeen thousand horse and foot under his own command; while the regiments of Lord Grey of Groby, Fleetwood, Ingoldsby, Lambert, and Harrison, together with the militia that had recently joined the Parliamentary forces, swelled the amount to upwards of thirty thousand.
“Nearly treble my force,” exclaimed Charles. “But were they forty thousand I should not fear them.”
“’Tis well you are prepared, sire,” remarked Legge.
“Much has yet to be done,” replied the king. “The passes of the Severn and the Teme must be looked to. Upton, Powick, and Bransford Bridges must be broken down. Haste thee to Worcester, Will. Summon a council of war to meet me three hours hence. By that time I shall have visited Upton and Powick, and perhaps Bransford. Is Massey at Upton?”
“Massey’s head-quarters are at Severn End, sire, the residence of Judge Lechmere. The judge sides with the Parliament, but I suspect he is a time-server, and will always support the party in power. If your majesty is victorious, he will throw himself at your feet. Severn End is a fine place, and Massey seems to like his quarters. Judge Lechmere’s nearest neighbour is loyal Tom Hornyold, whom you will assuredly see at Pitchcroft to-day.”
“Oddsfish! Judge Lechmere must be an astute fellow from thy account of him, Will,” replied Charles, laughing. “I will go first to Severn End. Perchance I may see the judge. If so, I will have a word with him.”
“Fine him heavily, sire, or imprison him, if he will not join you,” said Legge.
“Humph! I like not to have recourse to harsh measures,” rejoined Charles. “Still, an example ought to be made of such a man. Now, off with thee to Worcester, Will. Say to all that thou hast left me in good spirits.”
“I can say so with truth, my liege,” replied Legge.
Careless undertook to conduct his majesty to Severn End, being well acquainted with Judge Lechmere’s residence. Their course lay through the loveliest part of the chase, but Charles was too much preoccupied to notice the beauties of the scene, and Careless did not venture to disturb the profound reverie into which his royal master had fallen, and which lasted till they came to the precincts of a large, well-timbered park, in the midst of which stood a fine old house embosomed in a grove of rook-haunted trees.
“Is this Severn End?” asked Charles.
“No, my liege; this is Blackmore Park, the abode of your staunch adherent, Captain Thomas Hornyold.”
“And a charming place it is,” observed the king; “I would all my staunch adherents were as well housed!”
After skirting the moss-grown park pales for a few minutes, they came upon a long and stately avenue, down which a troop of horse was riding, with their leader at their head.
“As I live that must be Tom Hornyold’s troop!” cried Charles, halting, while Careless signed to the king’s escort to stop.
Seeing Careless ride towards him, and comprehending the aide-de-camp’s object, Captain Hornyold put his troop into a trot, and presently drew up before the king.
Tom Hornyold’s manly bearing, open countenance, frank manner, and steady look prepossessed the king in his favour.
“I trust your majesty will pardon my inattention to your summons yesterday,” said Hornyold, after making an obeisance. “Here are forty good men and true, who will fight well for you, and I have had barely time to get them together.”
“Mistress Jane Lane explained all to me, Captain Hornyold,” rejoined Charles, graciously. “You did quite right, and I thank you heartily. By my faith, you have brought me some famous recruits.”
As he moved towards the troop, he was welcomed with a shout that startled
the clamorous rooks overhead, and put to flight a herd of deer that had been couching beneath the trees.
Well pleased with the appearance of the recruits, many of whom were remarkably fine-looking young men, and all well accoutred and extremely well mounted, the king thus expressed his satisfaction:
“Good men — good horses — good weapons, and strong arms to wield them — those you have brought me, Captain Hornyold, and I thank you once more. Gentlemen,” he added to the troops, “I cannot tarry longer with you now, though I fain would say something more, but I have much to do, as you are aware. I shall see you again at Pitchcroft. Au revoir!”
Bowing graciously to Captain Hornyold, he then rode off, attended by Careless and followed by his escort.
On quitting Blackmore Park, the king approached another equally well-wooded domain, which he did not need to be told belonged to Judge Lechmere.
It was, in sooth, Severn End, and their road towards the house led them for a short distance near the bank of the river. The grounds contained many noble trees, amongst which were several towering elms and broad-armed oaks that delighted Charles, as did a remarkably fine service-tree, which he pointed out to his attendant.
As they drew near the picturesque old mansion, it was easy to perceive that it was under military occupation — sentinels being placed at the entrance, while small parties of dragoons were gathered on the terrace, as if awaiting orders; and a troop of cavalry was drawn up on the lawn. A soldier was walking a powerful charger to and fro before the porch.
Drums would have been beaten, and trumpets sounded, but the king would not allow any announcement of his arrival to be made. Leaving his escort at the extremity of the lawn, he rode up to the portal with Careless. He then dismounted and marched up the steps, merely returning the salutes of the officers he encountered.
Loud and angry tones were audible as he crossed the hall, and guided him to the room in which General Massey could be found. The door being partly open, Charles pushed it aside and entered a large chamber with a somewhat low roof, panelled with black oak, ornamented with several full-length portraits.
This was the dining-room, and in the midst of it stood General Massey, booted and spurred, with his hat on, and his riding-whip in hand, evidently prepared to mount his charger.
A fine, tall, broad-shouldered man was the general, and well became his rich accoutrements. His back being towards the door he did not notice the king’s entrance. Full of wrath, as we have intimated, he was pouring his fury on the head of a grave-looking personage in a black velvet gown, and having a black skull-cap on his head, who was standing calmly before him.
Perhaps this individual, whom Charles had no doubt was Judge Lechmere, recognised his majesty. If so, he gave no sign, but kept his keen grey eye steadily fixed on the irate general.
“Hark ye, judge,” thundered Massey. “’Tis you, and such as you, supporters of this rebellious Parliament, who ought to suffer most, and by Heaven you shall suffer. You shall be forced to contribute largely to the expenses of the war you have compelled his majesty to undertake for the recovery of his throne. You are fined five thousand pounds.”
“By whom am I fined that large sum?” demanded Lechmere, in a calm tone. “Not by the king, I am well assured. He would not commit such an injustice.”
“You are fined by me — that is sufficient. I have his majesty’s warrant for all I do.”
“Not his written warrant,” said the judge.
“I need it not,” cried Massey. “What doth your Lord-General, as you style him? I do not desire to imitate his ruthless and robber-like proceedings. I do not intend, like him, to plunder churches, hospitals, and private dwellings. I do not mean to break open chests and carry off gold by the sack, and plate by the cart-load, as he did at Worcester, after the first siege. But I will imitate him in one thing. I will punish wealthy offenders like yourself by fines proportionate to their means. You have amassed money, I know, and, though a lawyer, I hope have come by it honestly. Had you been loyal you might have kept your money. But since you are a rebel, and a favourer of rebels, you shall disburse your gains for the king’s use. You shall pay me the five thousand pounds I demand.”
“And yet you affirm that you design not to plunder me,” observed Judge Lechmere, still with perfect calmness. “What call you this but plunder on the greatest scale? Better strip my house of all it contains — better carry off my pictures and my plate — than fine me in a sum so large that I cannot pay it. Again I say, I am certain the king would not allow this demand to be made.”
“His majesty will approve of what I do,” rejoined Massey. “But I will not bandy words with you. You are now in my court, judge, and my decision holds good here. I will have the sum I have named — no less. Two thousand pounds — the first instalment — must be paid before noon on Thursday. That will give you two days to raise it. If you fail, I will have you shot in your own court-yard. You hear! No excuses will avail. Till then you are a prisoner in your own house.”
“If I am a prisoner, how am I to raise the money, general?” asked the judge.
“That is your concern,” rejoined Massey. “Have it I must — or you die!”
As he turned to quit the room, he perceived Charles standing behind him.
“Ah! sire,” he exclaimed. “I did not know you were here.”
“Am I indeed in the king’s presence?” exclaimed Judge Lechmere, with well-feigned astonishment.
“You are in the presence of the sovereign to whom your allegiance is due, my lord judge,” rejoined Charles, with dignity.
“Whatever my feelings may be towards your majesty,” said Lechmere, “I cannot consistently — —”
“You dare not declare yourself in my favour, eh, judge?” cried Charles. “Well, I will give you till Thursday for reflection. Naturally, you are included in the general pardon I have published, and if you then return to your allegiance, I shall be disposed to forget the past, and will remit the heavy fine imposed upon you by General Massey. Nay, I will do more; I will take you into my favour.”
“I thank your majesty for your goodness. I will perpend the matter.”
“Methinks it requires little consideration,” observed Charles, somewhat sternly. “You have to choose between your lawful king and a usurper. You will best consult your own interests in serving me.”
“I am inclined to believe so, sire — nay, I am certain — yet give me till Thursday.”
“I have said it,” rejoined Charles. “I now leave you in General Massey’s hands.”
With a grave bow to the judge, who had rushed forward as if to throw himself at his majesty’s feet, but stopped suddenly, he quitted the room, followed by Massey.
As he crossed the hall he laughed heartily.
“Your judge will turn Royalist on Thursday, if nothing happens to-morrow,” he said.
On quitting Severn End, Charles accompanied General Massey to Upton.
They rode through Hanley, where a stately pile belonging to the Earls of Gloucester once stood, and where Massey’s troops were now encamped.
The general had with him a detachment of five hundred horse and a regiment of dragoons, and he assured the king that he felt confident of preventing the enemy’s passage at Upton Bridge, come in what force he might.
Together they carefully examined the fine old bridge, which, like the bridges of Worcester and Powick, was somewhat narrow, but had deep angular recesses. It was strongly built of stone, and had several arches.
Charles advised its total destruction, but Massey was of opinion that it would suffice to break down the central arch; and the king giving his assent, a large body of men was at once set to work upon the task.
After witnessing the commencement of the operations, Charles took leave of Massey, urging him to be more than ever vigilant, as the safety of the army now depended on him, and rode on with his escort to Powick.
The security of this important pass seemed to be guaranteed by the presence of General Montgomery and
Colonel Kirke, with two battalions of foot and a regiment of horse, and Charles, with a mind very much quieted, crossed the river to Worcester.
* * *
CHAPTER VIII.
OF THE COUNSEL GIVEN BY COLONEL LESLEY TO THE KING.
When Charles arrived at the palace, the war council was already assembled. Several general officers, however, were necessarily absent.
A long and anxious discussion ensued, and great diversity of opinion prevailed — jealousies having sprung up amongst the commanders. His grace of Buckingham hated the Duke of Hamilton, and derided his plans; but his own rash counsels were rejected.
Charles felt sure, he declared, that he should be largely reinforced by the levies which the Earl of Derby was bringing from Lancashire and Cheshire. But he cared not if his army should be inferior to that of the enemy in number.
“There is no fear of treachery,” he said. “The loyalty of the citizens of Worcester is unquestionable. They will fight for me as bravely as they fought for the king, my father. No defeat will subdue them. But why do I talk of defeat? Let us speak of the victory, that is certain.”
“The next battle must be decisive, sire,” remarked the Duke of Hamilton. “We must conquer, or die.”
“We will conquer,” cried Charles, energetically.
“We will,” cried several voices.
Having remarked that Lesley took no part in the conference, the king drew him aside and inquired the meaning of his sombre looks.
“Are you afraid of Cromwell?” he asked.
“I am afraid of my own men, sire,” replied Lesley. “They are discontented, and do all I can, I am unable to remove their dissatisfaction.”
“Of what grievance do they complain?” asked Charles.
“I need not remind your majesty, that nearly five thousand Scottish soldiers have returned to their own country since we crossed the Border — —”
“Deserted, if you please, colonel,” interrupted Charles.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 643
