Lambert’s victory was in the highest degree satisfactory to Cromwell. The seizure of the pass at Upton Bridge was part of the Lord General’s plan, but it had been accomplished more expeditiously than he had anticipated. Though some miles off on the south of the city with the main body of his army, he was in constant communication with his generals, and directed all their movements. On the 28th of August, as we have previously mentioned, he made White Lady Aston, distant about five miles from Worcester, his head-quarters; and on that evening he was joined by Colonel Lilburn, who had arrived with his victorious troops from Wigan, in Lancashire.
The old manor-house of White Lady Aston, which originally belonged to a nunnery of the Benedictine order, situated in the northern suburbs of Worcester, was now occupied by Mr. Symonds, and by this gentleman, a thorough-going Republican, Cromwell was heartily welcomed. Almost midway between this place and Red Hill, until quite recently, had stood another fine old manor-house, belonging to Sir Robert Berkeley, and it was in this large mansion, the position of which perfectly suited him, that the Lord General meant to fix his quarters; but he learnt from his friend Mr. Symonds that the mansion no longer existed — it having been burnt down only three days previously by the Scottish Presbyterians, because Sir Robert Berkeley, its owner, when one of the Justices of the King’s Bench in the time of the late king, had given his opinion for ship money.
Judge Berkeley, we may remark, had been very hardly used. Impeached for high treason, he was fined twenty thousand pounds, deprived of his office, and imprisoned in the Tower. His house had been plundered by the Parliamentarians in the first siege of Worcester, and now it was burnt down by the soldiers of the sovereign, whose cause he warmly supported. Nevertheless, his loyalty was unimpaired. It is to this high-minded and charitable man that Worcester owes the Berkeley Hospital.
As Cromwell rode through Spetchley Park, on his way to Red Hill, early next morning, he stopped to look at the blackened ruins of the fine old mansion, with which he had been well acquainted, and though not easily moved, he was touched by its melancholy aspect. A pleasant spot it had been, but it was now an utter ruin — nothing being left standing except the stables.
“These Scots,” he remarked to Dighton, an inferior officer of his life guards, who was in constant attendance upon him, “have done worse than the men of Ephraim did, when they threatened to burn down Jephtha’s house upon him with fire. ’Tis a mean and dastardly revenge, and they will pay for it. Those stables are large,” he said, observing them carefully; “and the rooms connected with them must be commodious. I will pass the night here. Hold thy peace, Dighton. I know what thou wouldst say — but I care not if the rooms have been occupied by grooms.”
Dighton gave the necessary orders while the Lord General rode slowly along the noble avenue of elm-trees that led to the place where the old mansion once stood. Within Spetchley Park, which was charmingly wooded, and contained a fine sheet of water, the main body of the Parliamentary army was encamped. Next came Lord Grey of Groby’s brigade, and the camp continued, at intervals, to Red Hill, where Lilburn’s regiment was now stationed.
As Cromwell approached Red Hill, he heard the sound of cannon, and, quickening his pace, soon learnt that the guns of Fort Royal had opened upon Lilburn’s troops while they were taking up a position on the heights.
As no damage was done, Colonel Lilburn did not return the fire. “Let them waste their ammunition if they will,” he said to his engineers. “They have not too much to spare.”
Cromwell was of the same opinion.
“It would be useless to cannonade them from these heights,” he said to Lilburn. “But I will soon get near enough to reach them.”
Accompanied by a regiment of musketeers and a train of artillery, he then rode on to Perry Wood, which, as we know, faced Fort Royal, and, in order that the movement might not be discovered by the Royalists, he shaped his course through the Nunnery Wood, so designated because it had once belonged to the old convent we have alluded to in describing White Lady Aston, and entered Perry Wood, where his men could be hidden. He then gave orders that during the night a strong breastwork should be raised on the south of the hill, and a battery of heavy guns mounted, which would command Fort Royal.
This done, he returned as he came, attended only by a small escort; but he halted for a short time at the Nunnery Farm to see what the enemy were about. The engineers on Fort Royal had not made any discovery of the troops concealed in Perry Wood, and were still firing away uselessly at Lilburn’s camp on Red Hill.
Throughout the day the Lord General remained with Lilburn, and together they reconnoitred the enemy from various points of Red Hill, examining the new lines of fortifications, which surprised them by their extent, and being much struck by the formidable appearance of the Castle Mount. But they had troops as well as fortifications to examine — the main body of the king’s army being now posted on this side of the city.
This was what they beheld. From Friars’-gate on the east to the south-west angle of the fortifications near the river, the city was surrounded by troops. Lesley’s brigade had descended from King’s Hill, and now occupied the Blockhouse fields. This Scottish cavalry seemed to give Cromwell little uneasiness, and he smiled as he pointed them out to Lilburn, but he did not regard with equal indifference the large force under the Duke of Hamilton, which occupied the London-road, and commanded the approach to the Sidbury-gate. Nor did either of them think lightly of the regiments respectively commanded by the Duke of Buckingham, Lord Wilmot, Colonel Legge, and Colonel Lane. Lilburn thought General Middleton’s brigade likely to give him trouble. Middleton’s troops were posted near the river, on the spot where Diglis’s Bowling-green was subsequently laid out.
Such was the disposition of the royal forces on the south and south-east sides of Worcester when the two Parliamentary leaders examined them from Red Hill. Cromwell looked upon the troops as already scattered and consumed. But Lilburn was struck by their gallant appearance, and did not refuse them the tribute of a soldier’s admiration.
* * *
CHAPTER XVI.
IN WHICH MASSEY PROPOSES A NIGHT ATTACK ON THE ENEMY.
The greatest consternation reigned within the city. Massey’s defeat at Upton had been felt as a heavy blow, and the boldest amongst the Cavaliers were much discouraged by it. The appearance of the enemy on the southern heights increased the alarm of the citizens, and some of the most timorous began to think of flight. For the credit of the loyal city, and its brave inhabitants, we are happy to record that these were very few in number. A proclamation was made that all who desired to depart might do so, but none availed themselves of the permission. The excitement caused by the movement of the troops, and the cannonade from Fort Royal, soon roused the spirits of the citizens, and enabled them to shake off their depression. Charles showed no symptoms of misgiving; but on the contrary, seemed full of energy and resolution. He paid an early visit to Massey, whose wounds had detained him at St. John’s, but did not reproach the unfortunate general. Massey, however, could not sufficiently deplore his error.
“I have committed a great fault,” he said. “Your majesty may forgive me; but I can never forgive myself. Here I am, stretched on this couch, when I ought to be with my regiment! Oh! that Heaven would grant me sufficient strength to meet the enemy.”
“Make yourself easy, general,” replied Charles, kindly. “You will soon be able to serve me again.”
“I trust so, sire,” groaned Massey. “I shall die if I am kept here long. Cromwell, I am told, has appeared on Red Hill.”
“Lilburn’s regiment is on the brow of the hill. Cromwell is at Spetchley,” replied Charles.
“And I am here, and cannot face them,” cried the wounded man, in a tone of anguish.
“Be patient,” said Charles.
“I cannot be patient, sire, when I think what might be done. Were I able to move, I would attack Cromwell in his head-quarters this very night, and either slay him, or sell my life in th
e attempt. But I cannot do it — I cannot do it,” he added, sinking back with a groan.
“A night attack might be made upon Lilburn — or upon an outpost,” observed Charles.
“That is not enough, sire,” rejoined Massey, raising himself, and speaking with such earnestness that for the moment he forgot his wounds; “Cromwell himself must be reached. I would give twenty lives, if I had them, to win you the crown.”
“I feel your devotion,” said Charles. “The attempt might be successful, but it is so desperate that none but yourself would make it.”
“Yes, sire, there are others — many others — who would not shrink from the task, but the bravest, the most determined, the most trustworthy of your generals, is Middleton. Let him take my place.”
“Will he take it, think you?”
“Joyfully, sire. I will answer for him as I would for myself. He will need fifteen hundred of the best horse and foot. Let him take with him Sir William Keith and Colonel Legge. Both can be relied on. Let the word be ‘Death to the Regicide!’ But they must not return until their work is accomplished.”
“I will summon a council forthwith, and lay the matter before them,” said Charles.
“I pray you do not, sire,” rejoined Massey, earnestly. “If the enterprise is to succeed, it must be kept secret. Confide it only to those you can trust, as the Duke of Hamilton, Colonel Drummond, and Sir Alexander Forbes. Above all, let not Lesley hear of it. One word more, sire, and I have done. The camisade must take place to-night — an hour after midnight — when the rebels are lulled to repose. Then Middleton must dash through Lilburn’s camp, and cut his way through all other obstacles to Spetchley.”
ROOM IN THE COMMANDERY.
“I am half inclined to lead the attack myself,” said the king.
“It must not be, sire. You would throw away your life. The chances are a thousand to one against Middleton’s return. But, that matters little if he can accomplish his object. Should the enterprise succeed you will forgive me the loss of Upton Bridge.”
“I have already forgiven you,” replied Charles. “I will see Middleton forthwith.”
And, bidding Massey a kindly farewell, he took his departure.
The king had intended to visit the camp just formed at Wick, but his plans being now changed, he crossed the bridge, and sent on Careless with a message to Middleton, who was posted outside the city, opposite Frog Gate, with his regiment, bidding the general attend him without delay at the Commandery, and bring with him Sir William Keith and Colonel Legge. We have already mentioned that the Duke of Hamilton was quartered at the Commandery, and on the king’s arrival at the ancient hospital, he found the duke in the refectory — a large and beautifully proportioned hall, with an open roof of richly ornamented woodwork, a minstrel’s gallery, and lofty windows, filled with exquisitely painted glass. With the duke was Sir Alexander Forbes, the commander of Fort Royal, and the king remained in converse with them until Careless appeared with General Middleton and the others.
The whole party then adjourned to an inner room, better adapted than the refectory, for secret discussion, and Careless was stationed at the door to prevent all chance of interruption.
The apartment looked on a small garden, and the day being extremely warm, one of the windows was unluckily left open — unluckily, we say, for a personage outside, apparently a gardener, contrived to place himself so near it, that he overheard all that passed within. The conference did not last long. General Middleton, as Massey had foreseen, at once undertook the daring enterprise, and both his companions were eager to share the danger with him.
When all had been discussed and settled, General Middleton said to the king:
“Your majesty need not fear that the design will be betrayed. Not till the latest moment shall the men know on what enterprise they are to be employed, and even then they shall not be aware of our precise aim. Before dawn your majesty shall hear that the blow has been struck, and if I cannot come myself, some one more fortunate will bring you the glad tidings.”
With this, he took his departure with his companions.
* * *
CHAPTER XVII.
HOW THE SUBURBS OF THE CITY WERE BURNT.
Every moment of that eventful day had its employment for the king, who had now a most painful duty to perform. Most reluctantly had he given his assent to the execution of the stern decree of the council of war, which enjoined that all persons dwelling without the walls should remove their goods forthwith, and take refuge within the city, since it was necessary that their habitations should be burnt down, in order that they might not afford shelter to the foe. Now, the suburbs of Worcester, as we have already explained, were extremely populous, and consequently great numbers of houses — indeed, several small streets — were thus doomed to destruction. The greater part of the luckless occupants obeyed the mandate without a murmur, though it deprived them of a home. The mayor, the aldermen, and the sheriff rendered every assistance in their power, and the goods of the poor folks thus ousted, were temporarily placed in the churches. The king expressed his profound sympathy for the sufferers, and promised them compensation for their losses. Alas! it was but a promise.
The occasion called forth the active zeal of Jane Lane, and never had it been more energetically displayed. Accompanied by Sir Clement Fisher and her brother, she rode through all the districts destined to destruction, and wherever she found a little crowd assembled, or heard murmurs, she halted and earnestly exhorted submission to the decree.
“Blame not the king,” she said, “for this severe measure, but blame the great rebel and regicide, who has rendered it necessary. It is Cromwell, the murderer of your martyred sovereign, who comes hither to ravage your city, and slay your rightful king, that he may set himself up in his place, who thus drives you from your homes. Charles, your king, loves you, and would save you from this ruthless general and his fierce and fanatical soldiery, who will put you all to the sword if they obtain the victory. Resist, therefore, to the uttermost. Better that your houses should be burnt down than that they should afford shelter to such an enemy. Better your wives should be driven forth than exposed to the insults of Cromwell’s soldiery. Quit your homes without hesitation and without murmuring, but with the deep determination to be avenged upon the foe. ’Tis a sacrifice you are called upon to make for your king — but we all make sacrifices for him. Right, justice, truth are on our side: treason of the darkest dye, rebellion and oppression, are on the other. Fight for your lawful king. Place your trust in Heaven, and you will triumph over these bloodthirsty rebels.”
While uttering these stirring words, which produced an extraordinary impression upon those who heard them, she looked as if inspired. Her beautiful features assumed a very different expression from that which they ordinarily wore. For the moment they had lost all their softness, and when speaking of Cromwell, her eyes flashed as with lightning, her proud nostrils distended, and her delicate lips curled fiercely. Her beauty, her energetic language, and fiery looks produced, as we have said, the strongest effect upon her auditors, and roused within them a burning desire of vengeance. No longer they thought it a hardship to quit their homes, but were eager to fight for the king, and, if need be, lay down their lives for him. All feelings of discontent were subdued, and the greatest enthusiasm for the royal cause was awakened. Even the women who listened to her were almost as much roused as their husbands. Nor when she had departed did the effect of her eloquence subside. Wrath against Cromwell had now taken possession of every breast. Old Noll was the real author of the cruel decree. Old Noll had driven them from their homes. Old Noll would burn down the city itself, and massacre them all, men, women, and children, if he could. But the king would prevent it. Long live the king! — Down with the Republic!
Night had come on before all the necessary preparations were completed. Combustibles having been placed in most of the houses, and bands of men employed to set fire to them at a given signal, the conflagration began almost simultaneou
sly on every side, and in a surprisingly short space of time the city was encompassed by a semicircle of fire. The spires and towers of the churches caught the red reflection of the flames, and a ruddy glow illumined the massive roof and tower of the cathedral. All the principal buildings were lighted up.
Viewed from the heights, it seemed as if the fire, which burnt with great fierceness, was gaining upon the walls and gates; but this was not so, all needful precautions having been taken to prevent its too near approach. Luckily the night was almost calm. A gentle breeze from the south carried the flames from the city. Overhead hung a cloud of smoke. The spectacle was magnificent; the soldiers could be seen on the gates and walls, the engineers on the summit of Fort Royal and the Blockhouse, while all the troops outside the city were clearly distinguishable.
The conflagration did the Royalists an unexpected service by revealing the engineers engaged in raising the breastwork in front of Perry Wood. The operations of these men were quickly stopped by the guns of Fort Royal, to which they offered an excellent mark. Two artillerymen and a matross were killed, and the rest dispersed.
The defenders of the fort, having thus learnt that a detachment of the enemy was hidden in Perry Wood, continued their cannonade briskly, and sent shot into different parts of the thicket in the hope of dislodging the Parliamentarians. Little did they think that among those whom they had driven off was the Lord General himself, who chanced at the time to be superintending the construction of the breastwork. One of the artillerymen was killed close beside him.
With the utmost calmness, Cromwell gave orders to the engineers to suspend their work till the fire had burnt out, and then deliberately withdrew to a place of safety, whence he watched the progress of the conflagration, the cause of which he had comprehended from the first. Several shots passed over his head and shattered the trees beyond him, as he stood behind a hedge bank with his constant attendant Dighton. His curiosity was excited, for the fortifications were more completely revealed by this fierce glare than by daylight. He could count the large guns on Fort Royal, and the sakers, demi-cannons, culverins, and falcons on the Blockhouse.
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