“Amazement!” cried Careless. “I could not have believed she would wed him.”
“No one expected it, though the marriage has been long talked of,” said the glover. “But we think her grandam must have wrought upon Mary to consent — for she herself seemed wondrously reluctant. Be this as it may, and I cannot speak for certain, she and Urso were married by the Rev. Laban Foxe, an Independent minister, and soon after the ceremony — if ceremony it can be called — Urso and his bride, with the old dame, quitted Worcester.”
Careless had heard enough, and strode away to hide his vexation.
* * *
CHAPTER XIII.
SHOWING HOW THE KING HAD FORTIFIED THE CITY.
The fortifications of Worcester having now been completely repaired and considerably extended by Charles, it may be necessary to take another survey of them.
On the south, the city was provided with a double enceinte — Sidbury-gate and the Commandery being completely enclosed by the newly raised lines. On the south-east, the outer fence extended from Fort Royal almost to Friars’-gate. On the other side, the new line of fortifications ran towards the Severn, covering the Moat, and the strong old wall behind it — a boundary wall built by a prior of the Convent of St. Mary early in the thirteenth century — and forming an outer defence to the Castle Mound, with which it was connected. The Castle Hill, as we have already had occasion to remark, was strongly fortified, and had become almost as formidable as Fort Royal itself, with which it was now linked by the new line of fortifications. These new fortifications were necessarily not very strong, but they answered their purpose. In the fields opposite Friar’s-gate, and facing Perry Wood, stood an old blockhouse, which had more than once fallen into the hands of the former besiegers of the city. Dismantled by Colonel James, the Blockhouse had now been put into repair, and was garrisoned and provided with ammunition, its commander being Colonel Blague, on whose courage and fidelity Charles could perfectly rely. The district in which the old fortress stood is still known as the “Blockhouse Fields.” Right and left of St. Martin’s-gate, which looked towards King’s Hill, as the acclivity was naturally enough designated after Charles’s encampment upon it, a new bastion had been constructed. Two more bastions strengthened the northern ramparts, and at the north-west angle of the walls, not far from St. Clement’s Church, removed in later times, stood a strong fort, the guns of which commanded the bridge. The tower in the centre of the bridge was well armed and well manned, as was the fort at the western extremity of the bridge. Proceeding along Tybridge-street to Cripplegate, the scene of many a former conflict in the days of Sir John Biron and Governor Washington, and of wild Will Hodgkins’s mad exploits, we come to St. John’s, where General Dalyells’s brigade was quartered — all the approaches to this out-work being as strongly barricaded, as when the dangerous suburb formed a Leaguer for the Parliamentarians in 1646.
From the foregoing hasty survey, it will be seen that the city was now in a thorough state of defence, and was especially strong on the south and south-east. Owing to the active zeal and forethought of the mayor and the sheriff, it was abundantly provisioned and well stored with forage.
On the enemy’s approach, as a precautionary measure, it was resolved by the council of war to burn all the suburbs on the north and east — a determination that inspired great terror, since Foregate-street contained a large number of inhabitants, and Lawrence-lane, leading from Friars’-gate to the Blockhouse was also a populous district.
Fort Royal now mounted some large ordnance, and was regarded by its defenders as impregnable. Including the fortifications, it contained upwards of fifteen hundred men, among whom were the most skilful engineers in the royal army. Fort Royal was commanded by Sir Alexander Forbes, an officer of great experience and resolution, and distinguished as the first knight made by Charles in Scotland. The Duke of Hamilton’s head-quarters were at the Commandery — a hospital founded in the eleventh century by Bishop Wulstan, the saintly prelate who commenced the present cathedral. Two centuries later, the Master of the Hospital assumed the title of Preceptor, or Commander, whence the designation of the structure. The Commandery is one of the most picturesque old edifices in Worcester. Of its beautiful refectory, roofed with Irish oak, in which the king dined with the duke on the day before the battle, we shall have to speak hereafter.
The command of the fort on the Castle Mound had been intrusted to the Earl of Rothes, Sir William Hamilton, and Colonel Drummond, who had under them two brigades of Scottish infantry, with some artillery. Colonel Lesley’s regiment of cavalry was encamped on the slopes of King’s Hill. But the main body of the army, including the newly-raised troops, had now been moved to the western side of the river, where the camp extended for some miles towards Malvern. Pitscottie was stationed at Wick, midway between St. John’s and Powick, near a cherry orchard, in which, nine years previously, the ambuscade was successfully laid for Lord Say. Montgomery and Keith were at Powick. Scattered troops were encamped on the left bank of the Severn almost as far as Upton, where General Massey, as we know, was posted to defend the pass.
Such was the disposition of the royal forces — when it was found that Cromwell was pushing his outposts round the city on the south and south-east, and that the main body of the Parliamentary army was between Stoulton and White Lady Aston, which latter place the Lord-General himself had made his head-quarters.
Charles was not much disquieted by the intelligence. His spirit rose with the difficulties he had to encounter, and his cheerfulness and gaiety inspired confidence in all with whom he conversed. But he had not overcome his suspicions of Lesley, and these suspicions were almost confirmed by the conduct of the Scottish leader, who persisted in maintaining his post on King’s Hill, whence secret communication with the enemy might most easily be held.
Jane Lane still remained in Worcester. Charles entreated her to quit the city before hostilities commenced, but she refused.
“I shall not go unless your majesty commands,” she said. “Then I must perforce obey. But I beseech you to let me remain. I may be of some use; and my brother will take care of me.”
Naturally, there was much speculation amongst the Royalist leaders as to where the attack would begin, some mentioning one place, some another; but Jane ventured to remark to the king that the first blow would be struck at Upton-on-Severn. She had ridden thither with her brother and Sir Clement Fisher, and while they were examining the broken bridge with General Massey, her quick eye detected a small reconnoitring party of the enemy in an orchard on the opposite side of the river. The Parliamentarians were quickly put to flight by a few musket-shots from Massey’s dragoons, but Jane declared they would return, and in much greater force. And she was right.
* * *
CHAPTER XIV.
BY WHAT MEANS GENERAL LAMBERT GAINED THE PASS AT UPTON BRIDGE.
Early next morning — August 28th — Major-General Lambert, who had crossed the Avon at Pershore on the previous day, and passed the night at Strensham, advanced with a regiment of horse and three troops of dragoons towards Upton Bridge, with the condition of which he had been made acquainted by the reconnoitring party he had sent on. No information of his movements reached Massey, and as he approached the river he was sheltered by the orchard previously described. On examination he found that, although the central arch of the bridge was destroyed, a plank had been most incautiously laid across the piers for the convenience of foot-passengers. Moreover, not more than three or four dragoons were on guard at the time. How so important a passage, on the security of which the royal army mainly depended, chanced to be so slenderly guarded, seemed inexplicable to him. Nevertheless, he greatly rejoiced, and firmly believed that Providence had favoured him.
At the very time when they ought to have been on the look-out, watching for their active and daring foe, Massey’s troops were scattered about the single street, which formed the quiet little town, as careless and unconcerned as if no surprise were to be apprehended, and the fate o
f a great kingdom did not depend upon their vigilance. General Massey himself was at breakfast at the little hostel, and not a single officer was on duty. It is true they were close at hand, since the street led direct to the bridge, but not near enough, as the event showed.
General Lambert could not have chosen a more opportune moment for his approach. He had taken the Royalists completely unawares, and they certainly betrayed unpardonable negligence. Even the few dragoons on guard seemed half asleep, and were reclining drowsily against the parapets of the bridge.
Nothing could be more peaceful — nothing more lovely than the scene — and yet how soon, how terribly, was its calmness to be disturbed! — its beauty destroyed! Round the tower of the grey old church the swallows were wheeling; some sounds arose from the quiet little town, but they were not unpleasant to the ear; a few barks were moored to the bank below the town, but their owners seemed infected by the general indolence, as did some other persons who were fishing lower down the stream. The smooth, broad river flowed calmly on, save where its current encountered the remains of the broken arch of the bridge, against which it split and struggled. Partly destroyed as it was, the old stone bridge somewhat marred the peaceful character of the scene, yet it did not detract from its effect. Lambert was struck with the beauty of the view as he gazed at it, yet he hesitated not to play the part of a destroyer.
“Look yonder, Corporal Lightbound,” he cried to a sour-visaged soldier near him. “Behold how these malignants keep guard. When they should be watchful, they are eating and drinking, or slumbering on their posts. They have broken their bridge to hinder us, yet have they foolishly laid down a plank whereby we may pass over and destroy them. Of a truth this is the Lord’s doing. He has delivered them into our hands. Thou, corporal, art chosen for the work. Take with thee a score of musketeers on whom thou canst best rely. Cross over the plank as quickly as thou mayest, and possess thyself of the church. Thou canst easily maintain the post till I come to thine aid. The river must be fordable yonder,” he added, pointing to a place below the bridge, where the current was rushing swiftly over a pebbly bed, and where a man who had reached a large stone, almost in the mid-stream, was fishing. The Severn, we may incidentally remark, had not then been dammed up at intervals, as is now the case, to preserve a constant depth of water for trading navigation.
“Truly, a fording party might well cross yonder, general,” remarked Lightbound.
“The position yon man has attained proves it. He must have waded to that stone. There I will cross with the whole of my force.”
“You will find me within the church with my men, general.”
“I nothing doubt it,” rejoined Lambert. “Fear not. The Lord is with thee, and will enable thee to surprise the enemy. And now about the work.”
A man of great resolution, and appalled by no danger, Corporal Lightbound instantly obeyed. Selecting twenty musketeers, each as stalwart and fearless as himself, and bidding them follow him, he left the orchard.
So unlooked-for was the attempt, that the attacking party reached the bridge, and indeed were only a few yards from the broken arch, before they were discovered by the drowsy guard.
“Let me go first, corporal,” said a soldier. “Thy life is more precious than mine.”
“Nay, Zachariah; the command belongs of right unto me,” cried Lightbound, sternly and authoritatively. “I may not yield it — and I will not.”
But Zachariah pressed forward, and went on to his death.
So offended was Corporal Lightbound at this act of insubordination, that he allowed all the others to pass on before him, whereby his own life was preserved.
Meantime the Royalist guard, aroused at last to a sense of danger, shouted loudly, “Arms! arms!” and sprang forward to dispute the passage.
The foremost of them discharged his musket at Zachariah, who was now crossing the plank, sword in hand. The shot took effect. Zachariah tottered, and fell upon the huge stones lying beneath him, scarce covered by water.
Another shot was instantly fired, and did execution upon the second soldier, who likewise dropped into the river.
The Royalists shouted, but their triumph was short-lived, for the bullets of the musketeers killed them both, and their comrades took to their heels.
By this time the call to arms having been loudly beaten, troopers and dragoons came rushing from the street to the scene of action. But they were not quick enough to prevent the assailing party from gaining possession of the church, the door of which, fortunately for them, chanced to be left open.
Everything favoured them, and they might well think, as their leader affirmed, that Heaven had declared itself on their side.
No sooner had they entered than the church door was closed and barred. Musketeers were placed at each window — with others behind them — and every possible precaution for the defence of the place was taken by Corporal Lightbound. Churches constantly served as fortresses in those days — and very good fortresses they made, as we see.
Cursing his own imprudence, General Massey rushed from the little hostel, sprang on his charger, and galloped to the bridge, followed by a small body of cavalry.
His first aim was to dislodge the detachment that had gained possession of the church, but when he rode into the churchyard with his troopers for this purpose, they were received by a well-directed volley from within, that killed several men and horses, and threw the rest of the troop into confusion. Massey himself was wounded in the hand.
Nothing daunted, the Royalists rode close up to the windows, fired their pistols into the church, and tried to reach their enemies, with their swords, but did them little hurt. The Parliamentarians, on the contrary, returned the fire with deadly effect, being able to aim deliberately at their opponents.
With the second volley, the churchyard was strewn with horses and wounded and dying men. Attempts were made by the Royalists to force an entrance to the church, but the windows were secured by bars, and the door being fashioned of stout oak and clamped with iron, their efforts were futile, and only excited the derision of the enemy.
By this time a regiment of cavalry had come up, and all seemed over with the brave men in the church. Massey ordered the door to be blown open; but ere a petard could be fixed to it, a fresh alarm was given.
The main body of the enemy was at hand.
While the attack on the church was taking place, Lambert had succeeded in fording the river at the place he had indicated, without any loss whatever, and was now hastening with his whole force to support the small detachment previously sent over.
Massey prepared to meet him, but his troops were utterly unable to resist the overwhelming force brought against them. Their ranks were broken on the first charge, and they made a headlong retreat into Upton, all Massey’s efforts to check them being vain.
On gaining the street, which, as we have said, led to the bridge, they were reinforced, and faced the foe; but the conflict was of short duration, and ended in the complete rout of the Royalists, numbers of whom were slain.
Massey performed desperate acts of valour, needlessly exposing his life.
Surrounded by a party of dragoons, he extricated himself; and although wounded in the attack on the church, and subsequently hit in several places — two horses being shot under him — he managed to conduct his shattered troops safely to Worcester.
Pursuit was not continued far by Lambert, who was more intent on securing the pass he had gained than anxious to destroy the enemy. He knew the immense importance attached by Cromwell to the possession of Upton Bridge, and he also knew the effect its loss would inevitably have on the young king’s fortunes.
Master of the all-important pass, he ordered the bridge to be repaired with all possible despatch.
* * *
CHAPTER XV.
HOW CROMWELL RECONNOITRED THE CITY FROM RED HILL.
No attempt was made by either of the Royalist commanders stationed on the western side of the Severn to repair Massey’s disastrous def
eat at Upton. The first tidings received of the conflict by Dalyell were from the wounded general himself, and it was then too late to act. Montgomery did not dare to quit his post at Powick, nor to detach Keith with any troops. Early next day, Upton Bridge having been sufficiently repaired to allow them to pass over it, Lambert was joined by Fleetwood, Ingoldsby, and Harrison, with their regiments of horse and foot; so there were now ten thousand Parliamentary soldiers at Upton. The Royalist troops encamped at Old Hills, on Newland-green, and at Lewthorn, drew closer to Worcester, and a new camp was formed between Upper Wick and Pitmarston.
No one profited more by Lambert’s victory than Judge Lechmere. Not only did he escape payment of the fine imposed upon him by Massey, which became due on the very day when that general was worsted, but he got rid of his obnoxious guests, and avoided all further pains and penalties, for if Massey had not been compelled to beat a hasty retreat, he would assuredly have carried him off as a prisoner. As soon as he could venture forth with safety, the judge rode over to Upton to congratulate Lambert on his victory. At the same time, he begged him to make Severn End his head-quarters. The Parliamentary general willingly accepted the offer, and was installed that night in the room which his adversary had quitted in the morning, with the full intention of returning to it.
Next day, the other generals who had just crossed the river were established at Severn End, and treated by the judge with the greatest hospitality. Whatever personal annoyance he had endured, Judge Lechmere could not complain that his house had been damaged or plundered by the Cavaliers; and this was more than could be said of Captain Hornyold’s residence — Blackmore Park — which was stripped by the rapacious Republicans, Colonels Goff and Gibbons. Madresfield Court was summoned by Fleetwood to surrender, but the commander of the garrison refused, and the siege was postponed.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 646
