by Moyle Sherer
CHAP. VI.
It's a hard fate to be slain for what a man should never willingly fight. RALEIGH.
The prediction of Juxon concerning the city of Coventry provedcorrect:--not only was the disposition of the inhabitants such as hedescribed, but the Parliamentarians, whose vigilance and activity werevery great, sent forward a small force to assist the citizens indefending the place,--and the King had the mortification of summoningit in vain. The gates were shut against him, and the burghers sent outa message of defiance. His Majesty came to Stoneleigh Abbey the sameafternoon, much dejected; and being there joined by several of themost considerable gentlemen in the county, he decided on raising hisstandard at Nottingham, which was accordingly done on the 25th ofAugust; but he found that place much emptier than he expected, andlearned that the army of the Parliament, composed of horse, foot, andcannon, was at Northampton. His own few cannon and stores were, asyet, at quarters in York; and the levy gathered immediately under hisown person was at this moment very inconsiderable. Among thecavaliers, who had brought their contingent of horsemen for the royalservice, was Sir Charles Lambert, with young Arthur Heywood and asmall troop of stout yeomanry. The age of boyhood is so impressible,that the mind readily admits an omen for good or for evil; and Arthurfelt, and was angry with himself for feeling, uncomfortable, becausethe very first evening of its erection the royal standard was blowndown by a violent storm of wind and rain.
A short time was now consumed in messages between the King and the twoHouses; but on neither side were the negotiations conducted in aspirit which could issue otherwise than they did. The declaration ofthe two Houses to the kingdom was a trumpet note that gave nouncertain sound, and it was answered to by the King with a princelycourage.
He now removed to Derby; and having clear information that Shrewsburywas at his devotion, continued his march to that town; and, collectingall his forces in that strong and pleasant situation, was enabled toorganise them for taking the field in security, and to keep up hiscorrespondence with Worcester,--a city zealously affected to the royalcause. Soon after the King left Nottingham, the Earl of Essex marchedfrom Northampton with his whole army towards Worcester, and, as hetraversed Warwickshire, placed garrisons of foot both in Warwick andCoventry. It so chanced that, by these dispositions, the regiment towhich Cuthbert belonged was stationed for a time at Warwick.
Sir Oliver Heywood had been disappointed of his wishes by an attack ofgout so very severe, that it quite disabled him; and although he hadcontrived to present himself before the King at Stoneleigh, the efforthad thrown him back, and reduced him to the helplessness of acripple. He was therefore compelled to forego his intention ofrepairing to Nottingham and joining the levy. Under thesecircumstances he was willing to remain shut up at Milverton House, andto abide all chances and all consequences which might follow on thatcourse, when the army of the Parliament should enter the county. ButJuxon warmly represented to him the great imprudence of thisunnecessary risk, and advised him to seek a temporary residence in amore protected situation. With a wise forethought he recommendedOxford; observing that it was at present occupied for the King; and,if his Majesty could make head against his enemies, would undoubtedlybecome the royal quarters, in the event of his not being fortunateenough to recover the capital before winter. It was true that in theinterval which must pass before the King could take the field, andadvance in strength, the University of Oxford might be exposed to avisit of some division of the Parliamentary forces; but it was notprobable that private families lodging there without show would beseriously molested:--whereas it was almost certain that the countrymansion of any Royalist of like consideration with himself would besubjected to a visitation of a very insulting and rude nature. SirOliver yielded to this sensible advice; and as soon as the Kingquitted Nottingham he departed from Milverton. Jane and Sophia Lambertaccompanied Katharine Heywood to Oxford; and Juxon having escorted theparty on their first day's journey, took leave of them with the bestcomposure which he could, and, without betraying the depth andtenderness of his solicitude by one look or tone of dejection,returned with all speed to Old Beech.
It was near midnight when he approached the village; and by theobscure light of a moonless but clear sky he discerned in the lanebefore him two men moving about at a point where another road crossedit. As a gate on his right hand opened into a large field, hedismounted, and leading in his horse, fastened it to a hedge-stake,and stole forward softly on foot by a pathway, leading to the pointwhere the roads crossed. Just as he reached the spot, a disturbedbird nestled in a bush. "Who goes there?" said a gruff voice. Juxonremained perfectly still, and saw two sentinels, one a pikeman, andthe other a musketeer, who now ceased their pacing, and stood halted,fronting the lane end.
"It is nobody," replied the comrade of the soldier who had given thechallenge:--"this is the second time thou hast been fooled to-night."
"Thou art the fool, deaf dunderhead, and wouldst not hear a troop ofhorse till they were down on thee:--what dost thou know of the wars,bumpkin? I tell thee I heard a horse at the far end of yon lane asclear as I hear thy clapper; and there may be royal troopers closerthan we think for. Dost mind? when I fire, take to thy scrapers, andjoin the post at the barn."
"Well, call me bumpkin as you will, you may be right: I warn'tthinking about horses, nor listening, you see. Your ears are sharpenough for both;--a plague o' the Parliament folk;--I was thinkingabout them pretty bodies that wear white caps and yellow kerchiefs. Iwas to ha' been wed, man, at Michaelmas, but for all this to do aboutthe litia: what's the King done to me?"
"Why you talk like a fool: hold your tongue.--Who goes there?" againroared the old musketeer,--but Juxon kept a breathless silence.--"Youtalk like a fool. Pay is pay, and victuals victuals, and one side asgood as t' other; and ours will be the best for booty, man."
"Booty! what's that?"
"Why you must be a queer simpleton not to know: why money, and plate,and rich gear, and wines, and grub of all sorts; all's fish that comesto net, man: that's the best part of a soldier's life."
"Why what's he got to do with them things, if they beynt his'n?"
"Beynt his'n!" said the old soldier with a tone of contempt: "why make'em his'n."
"Why that's what I call plain picking and stealing; and it's taught inthe Catechiz that you musn't do that."
"Ay, that's all very well for brats at a parson's village school; butthat wo'n't do for them that know better. Besides, the Catechiz, asyou call it, is no good now; it's all wrong foundation."
"Well, while I ha' got hands to get my living I don't want gold norsilver: I never heard one of your rich folk whistle in all my borndays; and as for your madams, why my Madge has a laughing face thatshames them. Dang it, I wish I were back with her, and you mightsoldier and the Roundheads might preach long enough afore I'd comeamong ye."
"Why I don't say any thing for those fellows that pray and preach; andsometimes I am afraid they'll stand between a good soldier and hisright, and wo'n't let him have his fair share of plunder. There's thatgrave, demure leeftenant they call Cuthbert drove me and two more outof the parson's orchard this very afternoon before I mounted duty. Helooks too sharp after other people's business, that godly rogue; andif ever I catch him tripping in a thick smoke, I'll give him a rap onthe sconce shall make him sleep sound enough ever after."
"Thou shalt never hurt a hair of his head while I am by," said therustic soldier: "he's a kind, fair-spoken gentleman as ever stepped inshoe-leather."
"Tut! you're both of a kidney--both fools alike--I've been throwingaway my breath on. Keep your own path, and keep moving," said themusketeer, and resumed his own cross beat in a surly silence.
Warned by this adventure that Parliament soldiers were quartered forthe night in Old Beech, and by the mention of Cuthbert's name, and theanecdote connected with it, that he had a friend among the hostileparty, who would, as far as possible, protect his interests, Juxoninstantly resolved to pass
round by another road, and put up at adetached farm-house a quarter of a mile to the north of the village,where he could gain more accurate information of their doings, andjudge how to act in the morning. He was turning about quietly, tosteal off and get back to his horse, when his attention was againarrested by the musketeer saying suddenly and bluntly to the pikeman,"You want to be off home, I'm sure."
"You're right enough there, and no conjurer:--I told you so."
"I mean, you want to desert."
"No, I doant."
"Yes you do, and you'll run off when the fighting comes."
"No I wunt: there's no man shall ever say that Bob Hazel gave back ina fair stand-up fight."
"Well, then, you'll change your side as soon as we come near theKing's troops, and fight on the other."
"Why for the matter o' that, I didn't choose my side, to be sure, anymore than if I had been called by him that won the toss at football;but now I'm in for it, I'll fight it out with the best of them on myown side."
"That's more than I'll say," muttered the musketeer: "I'm always forthe uppermost cause and the best paymaster: after the first battle weshall see which has the good luck."
They were again silent, and Juxon moved away, and regaining his horseled it round by paths and gaps well known to himself to the farm-houseabove mentioned. He found the farmer out and on the watch, and hisfamily had not gone to bed. The information which he here obtained ofthe conduct of the Parliament troops in Old Beech was verysatisfactory. They had been peaceable and orderly, and had doneviolence to no man. The commanding officer, it seems, had taken up hisquarters at the rectory, and a safeguard was appointed to protect thechurch from injury. It was reported that they would march forwards thenext morning, or in the course of the day. But although the Colonelhad maintained a strict control over the soldiers during the day, thefarmer was naturally afraid that in the course of the night someevil-disposed marauders might visit the farm, and therefore all hispeople kept watch. Juxon's horse was instantly put up,--and before thelarge fire in the farmer's kitchen a homely but welcome supper wascheerfully provided. Although fatigued, he was far too restless tosleep; and when he had refreshed himself with a little food and a cupof strong ale he went out again, and walked towards the village. Inthe clear gloom of night it presented the fine outline of apicturesque cluster of habitations, of which the principal feature wasthe small church, with its ancient tower, looking black and solemn. Tothe surprize, however, of Juxon, a light, the only one to be seen inall the dark mass of buildings, gleamed steadily from the window ofhis chancel. The sight attracted him; and under the impulse ofcuriosity, to see what the guard might be doing, he crossed theintervening fields, leaped over the wall of the churchyard, and gainedthe window without seeing or being noticed by any one. A lamp in thechancel had been lighted, and threw around an illumination, faintindeed, but sufficient to show very distinctly to the eyes of Juxonthe reverend figure within. Directly opposite the window, with hisface so slightly averted towards a monument on the same side, that nota feature nor an expression was lost, stood a tall grave person in aclerical habit. His features were noble and sad: his eyes were verybright, but severe withal; and his complexion was pale as marble. Hewore a small skullcap of black velvet; and beneath it his hair fell,on either side, in a large wavy mass, and lay upon the broad whitecollar that turned over his narrow and close-buttoned cassock. Hisupper lip was shaded with a small quantity of the blackest hair; atuft of the same filled the indenture beneath his under lip, and thusthe pallor of his long thin cheeks, and of his high forehead, appearedmore deadly. His pale hand, which held a closed volume, was pressedagainst his bosom; and he stood so very motionless, and so deeplyabsorbed in meditation, that a less healthy fancy than that of Juxonwould have deemed him some ghostly visitant, permitted, during thewitching hour of night, to haunt that holy place. The slow heavy treadof a man in arms, turning the distant corner of the church, warnedJuxon to conceal himself; and passing quickly round under the altarwindow to the other side, he came to the small door of the chancel. Itstood ajar; and pushing it gently, he entered, and again closing it,found himself in the presence of the venerable stranger, and alonewith him. He turned at the sound of Juxon's entrance withoutabruptness or discomposure; but as the light showed him an unknownface, and an athletic form in garments dusty with travel, he demandedof him in a tone of authority how he had come thither, and what washis business.
"But yesterday," said Juxon, "I might have asked that question ofthee: but a day has brought forth a sudden change; and the shepherdmust enter his own fold by stealth, or with the permission of others."
"I understand thee. Thou art the minister of this place: thou hastnothing to fear: I have watched in thy sanctuary, and no one hasviolated or defiled it. You may go home to your own chamber in peace:it was allotted as my quarter by the commander of this band, but Iresolved to keep a vigil here, and would continue it alone. Go, andGod speed thee. We shall march in the morning; and I pray that you maybe kept safe in all future visitations."
"March!--have I heard aright? Does such an one as you march in theranks of rebels? Does a minister of the Gospel preach war, and thatagainst the Lord's anointed?"
"Against the person of the King we do not war: we fight against hisfalse and dangerous friends. The sword of the Lord is with us, and itmust go through the land; but we march as mourners to the field ofblood. Witness these walls that have heard my groanings, yon tomb thathas been watered by my tears. In that tomb lie the ashes of mygrandfather, who was the first Protestant of his race. TheReformation, begun by the godly men of that day, has never yet beencompleted: that work remains for us."
"Miserable delusion!" cried Juxon aloud; "miserable delusion! Is it bykindling and diffusing the false fire of fanaticism? is it in arms? isit by a path of blood that you move? Then is your work a work of evil,and your light darkness."
"So called they the work and the light of our forefathers, when theyled them forth, and burned them at the stake. You have a zeal for thechurch, but not according to knowledge. I have heard of you from yourfriend Cuthbert Noble."
"Call him not friend of mine: give to all things their right names. Hethat stands in arms against his king is a traitor; and if he had lainin my heart's core, I would pluck him out, and cast him from me."
At this moment, a man in arms entered the small door of the chancel,and taking off his steel cap, advanced towards Juxon, and put forthhis hand:--it was Cuthbert Noble. He was much altered in hisappearance: his countenance was severe and sad, but resolute withal;and his corslet, with the broad buff girdle beneath, had produced achange in his aspect and bearing incredible to the mind of Juxon, ifhe had not witnessed it with his eyes.
"Do you refuse my hand? do you turn away from me, Juxon? I have notdeserved this at your hands," said Cuthbert, still stretching forthhis hand. Juxon turned his face and looked steadfastly upon him.
"Cuthbert," said he with a slow, grave utterance, "I and your reveredfather are upon the same side, and we fill the same sacred office.Even now, perhaps, his fold is broken into by some furious zealots,who will not show the same lingering compunction which is now, for amoment, sparing mine. No, Cuthbert, the hand that grasps a sword, andwields it against my king, shall never more be clasped withfriendliness by me."
Cuthbert's hand fell down, and his knees shook, and his whole frametrembled with the strength of his emotion.
"Dare to repent," added Juxon, observing the internal struggle,--"dareto repent. Here in the house of God, and before the altar of God, laydown the arms of rebellion, and go home to comfort, and, if possible,to protect, your father and mother."
What effect this appeal might have had upon Cuthbert had he been alonewith Juxon, and subjected to all the strength with which it would havebeen urged home upon him, we cannot say; for it was no sooner spoken,than the Puritan chaplain fell upon his knees, and poured forth aprayer for the cause of the Parliament, which, by its solemn tone andintense fervency, commanded the silent and breathless attentio
n ofboth. It was evident that this petitioner, with an enthusiasm that hasbeen felt perhaps in common by some of every creed and party under thecope of heaven, identified the particular cause which he himself hadespoused with that of truth and of God. Before he had uttered thefirst brief sentence of adoration, Cuthbert had fallen down in a lowlyposture of worship,--and his spirit was soon carried by his leader inprayer whithersoever he would.
Juxon leaned his head against the wall where he stood, and kept hiseyes fixed on them. He had before him one of those rarely endowedbeings on whom gifts without measure had been poured:--for a quarterof an hour he listened, with a painful and solemn interest, to a flowof real eloquence. The petitions touched in succession every point atissue. They justified, as by divine command, the appeal to arms, andproclaimed the end thereof to be reformation and peace. Theyrecognised the sacredness of the King's anointed head; and they endedin a prophetic anticipation of the days of millennial glory, and theuniversal reign of a manifested God.
In the course of the prayer he had not forgotten to pray for allmankind, and especially for all those enemies who now stood opposed tothem in the present contest, and again in a yet more especial mannerfor the near and dear relations, whose wishes and entreaties they werenow called on to resist, and whose hearts they might now afflict.Painting this resistance most truly, as the highest order ofself-denial, he urged it as a sacred duty, and a sacrifice wellpleasing to the Lord.
Juxon saw by the expression of Cuthbert's mouth the new and strongerresolutions he was making;--nor did it surprise him to see that, whenthey rose together at the conclusion of this fervent prayer, thechaplain took Cuthbert by the hand, that was passively yielded, andled him forth from the church without either of them addressing oneword to himself. They looked at him, indeed, with seriousness, if notwith compassion, and they moved their lips, but the whisperedejaculations of their hearts had no voice; and their departingfootsteps were the only sounds that broke the silence of the place andof the hour.
