by Moyle Sherer
CHAP. IX.
He calls us rebels, traitors; and will scourge with haughty arms this hateful name in us. _Henry IV._
On the cold foggy evening of October the 22d, 1642, the brigade offoot to which the regiment of Cuthbert Noble belonged took up itsground for the night in an open field to the north of the village ofKeinton, in which the Earl of Essex fixed his head-quarters. Thearmies of the King and the Parliament had been several days on themarch, both moving in the same direction, on lines of route sometwenty miles asunder. Both the King and Essex were well resolved tofight a battle when the fit opportunity should offer; and it was thecommon talk of the soldiers on both sides that they should soon cometo blows. Nevertheless, there was little thought in either camp thatthey were on the very eve of an engagement, or, indeed, that the mainbodies lay so convenient to each other as to fight on the morrow. Assoon as the guards were posted, the pikemen and musketeers ofMaxwell's regiment piled their arms in ranks, and were allowed to makesuch fires as they could. The country being open, and bare of wood,these fires were comfortless and short lived. By a flickering flame,fed with the small wood of the few bushes that grew near, CuthbertNoble and Randal ate a slender supper of dry bread and salt herring,which they washed down with a weak draught of cold mixture, butfaintly tinged with strong waters. "The Saxons," said Randal, who wasa very hardy man, "call this month the wine month, or _Wyn Monath_;certainly there must have been milder seasons in England formerly thanwe experience now; for it is impossible to fancy a vintage during suchsharp frosts as these."--"Yes," said Cuthbert, "yes." Randal smiled ata reply which bespoke inattention and discomposure, then added,"Master Cuthbert, I counted on seeing you a little proud of yourfirst night in camp: we must all endure hardness as good soldiers."
"True," answered Cuthbert, recovering himself: "what is a little coldand a little hunger compared to what thousands of Christian men havein all ages endured, and do in all ages endure for the truth? It is agreat cause--a holy cause. I was only thinking at the moment that itis a pity we had not taken a little better care of our bread and ofthat bottle of strong waters: there is a loaf missing, and the bottleis almost empty. But what petty trifles these are; how much below thedignity of our nature: you are right, Randal; I am, and I ought to be,happy; see how comfortable the Colonel has made himself;" so saying,he pointed to where Maxwell sat, near the only good fire on theground, with a few officers round him. He was enveloped in a largecloak,--a fur cap was drawn over his ears,--he was leaning with hisback against a pack-saddle; and as the smoke of his pipe issued inwarm clouds from his mouth he looked as much at his ease as if seatedin a chimney corner by the brightest fireside in the kingdom.
"Ay," said Randal, "he is an old campaigner, and use is second nature;for myself, as long as I am warmly clad, for no other comfort do Icare: I hate a pipe, and am not fond of a fire." Now Randal waswrapped up in an outer coat of the thickest woollen; and Cuthberthimself, being also clothed in a large warm mantle, checked hisdisposition to complain, and, after a little conversation of a betterkind, they both composed themselves to sleep. About two or three hoursafter he had lain down he was awakened by a sensation of extreme cold.He instantly discovered the cause: his mantle had been stripped off,and he was left without any other covering than the clothes in whichhe stood. Most of the camp fires were already extinguished, or onlyemitted a very faint light from the expiring embers. The stars in thedeep blue sky above shone with the most vivid lustre: the fog haddisappeared; and through the clear gloom of night he could seeoutlines of the piles of arms and of the groups of sleeping soldiers.Immediately near him lay Randal in a profound sleep: lifting ahalf-burned brand, he saw by the light which it gave as he waved itaround that the mantle was nowhere near the spot. He went among thegroups which were not far off to search for it; but the growl and thecurse of a brawny pikeman, over whom he chanced to stumble, deterredhim from his pursuit; and he had no other resource than to pace up anddown in a vacant space of ground, that he might keep himself warm byexertion. In vain he tried to raise his mind to heavenlycontemplations; in vain he sought to warm his zeal by picturing thesad and severe sublimities of battle and of victory; and the price ofblood which he might soon be called upon, and which he was ready topay, for the triumph of his cause. For great sacrifices he was eager;for petty troubles he was wholly unprepared; therefore the night woreaway in coldness and discontent.
Just as the day was breaking, he observed a man, in the garb of aPuritan, riding leisurely along the lines, and apparently taking avery particular notice of the position and number of the troops. Whatit was in the manner of the man that awakened the suspicions ofCuthbert is uncertain, but he felt impelled to go closer, and examinehim. Accordingly, he crossed towards the quarter-guard, where heobserved him stop and enter into conversation with the sergeant. Theman's back was towards Cuthbert,--thus he was able to approach thequarter-guard without being perceived by the stranger. No sooner didCuthbert catch the tone of his voice than he immediately recognised itto be that of the roguish hypocrite who had slept in the same chamberwith him at the inn in Aylesbury, two years before, and had stolen hispurse and the horse lent him by Sir Oliver Heywood. The knave, notrecollecting Cuthbert in his new dress, continued to pursue hisinquiries after he came up in the same canting phraseology, and evenaddressed some questions to Cuthbert himself; but the latter,suddenly seizing the bridle of his beast, directed the sergeant topull him out of his saddle, which was instantly and adroitly done, andgave him in charge as a thief and a horse-stealer, and on suspicion ofbeing a spy. The wretch was so panic-stricken that he made no effortto conceal or destroy any of the proofs which were found upon him,when they proceeded to search his person. These papers consisted of aletter to Prince Rupert--another, without a signature, saying that twosquadrons of the Parliamentarian horse were prepared to desert as soonas the armies met--and a third, containing an accurate return of thestrength of Essex's main body, and an estimate of the numbers leftbehind in garrisons, and on other duties. He was taken before ColonelMaxwell; by him sent forthwith to the Earl of Essex, who, havinggotten all the information which the confused hypocrite could give,directed him to be hanged in front of the lines, before the troopsmarched. The rogue died like a dog and a dastard, imploring mercy withloud and feverish howls, till, the noose being fastened tight abouthis neck, and made secure to a strong branch on the only tree nearthe camp, the forage cart, on which he had been dragged beneath it,was driven away, and he suddenly fell, and swung slowly to and frobefore the silent and stern battalions which were assembled upon theground in arms.
Such was the Sabbath morning of October the 23d,--far different inprospect and in promise from those of his youthful days at Cheddar.The distant sound of trumpets told that the divisions of horse werealready in motion; the drums beat; many a shrill fife pierced the ear;and the columns of foot slowly followed. The army had scarcelyadvanced a mile before the troops were halted; and they could alldistinctly see a fair body of horse on the top of a high level, calledEdge Hill, not more than a good mile in front. At the same moment, theEarl of Essex rode past Maxwell's regiment, and said, in the hearingof Cuthbert,--
"Maxwell, I shall give you plenty of work to-day, for I know I mayreckon on your regiment safely."
"My Lord, we're all ready and willing," was the Colonel's brief reply.
The order now came for drawing up the army in order of battle. NearKeinton, on the right, were some hedges and enclosures: among thesewere placed the musketeers and pikemen; and one of the most importantposts was assigned to the regiment in which Cuthbert served. Therewere not above two regiments of horse in this wing, where the groundwas narrowest; but in the left wing was placed a thousand horse underRamsey. The reserve of horse was commanded by the Earl of Bedford,assisted by Sir William Balfour: between the Parliamentarians and theroyal position, on Edge Hill, it was a fair open country. Essex havingthus chosen his ground, stood still in a defensive posture, anddirected three cannon
to be discharged as a defiance and a challengeto the royal army: they answered readily on their part with two shotfrom a battery of field guns on the brow of their position. However,many of their foot regiments were quartered seven or eight miles fromthe main body, and had that distance to march to the rendezvous. Itwas past one of the clock before the King's forces marched down thehill, with the King's standard waving in the centre of his regiment ofguards. They made a very fine and gallant appearance, especially theirhorse. Their trumpets sounded out in the distance, very grand to hear,and those upon Essex's left wing sounded also. It was a glorious sightto see the royal forces move steadily on, in two lines, with bodies ofreserve. They numbered not less than eighteen thousand men, and thearmy of Essex was very little superior in strength; for two of hisbest regiments of foot, and one of his horse regiments, were a day'smarch behind him. However, the Parliament soldiers were no less readyfor the fray than their eager adversaries.
During the solemn pause before the battle, while the hosts weredrawing up face to face, and the dispositions for the attack werecompleting, Cuthbert felt an unaccountable sadness on his spirits. Hecould well imagine, from all that he heard and saw, that the feelingsof a true soldier, standing opposite an army of hostile invaders, andabout to fight for the altars and the hearths of his native land, mustbe of a most exalted and enviable description,--but how different werehis. The royal standard of England was floating in the adverse line,and English voices were marshalling it for the onset: his own pupil,young Arthur Heywood, was riding in those ranks.
"Remember, men," said the commanding voice of Maxwell, "to be silentand steady: wait for the order: reserve your fire to the last moment,musketeers; and keep your ranks, pikemen, when it comes to the push.By God's help, we'll drive them up that hill in worse order than theyare coming down."
In another minute there broke a sudden flash from the enemy's line:close followed the white smoke and the thundering echo; and, by thevery side of Cuthbert, a sergeant was struck down dead.
"Pick up Sergeant Bond's partisan," said the sergeant-major of theregiment as he was passing by: "pick it up, you Tibbs," he repeated,in a sharp cold tone, to a supernumerary sergeant attached to the samecompany, and who had only a sword.
"Is this the glorious battle death?" said Cuthbert to himself,--but hehad no leisure for thought: the roar of shotted guns began on bothsides, and the battle fiercely opened. The musketeers of the regimentwere thrown out towards a hedge, a little in front of the groundoccupied by the pikemen; and a canopy of smoke soon rose above themall, veiling the golden sun and the blue heavens, and giving to allthe forms and faces of those around, whether friends or foes, ashadowy indistinctness.
In the midst of all this apparent confusion, governing commands weregiven by beat of drum, or by the swift and intelligent service ofchosen aides, or by the personal presence and loud voice, at theparticular point were they were needed, of Essex himself, whocommanded and fought with his foot throughout the day. CaptainRuddiman, who commanded the company of pikemen to which Cuthbertbelonged, did not appear to relish the cannon balls; feeling verynaturally, that however ready and able to encounter the Royalists atclose quarters, there was no mode of guarding against a round ironshot; nor was he much better pleased with the spitting and whistlingof musket-balls. However, being a very brave man, he stood them all assteady as a signpost, and rebuked Lieutenant Sippets for bobbing upand down in a very unsoldier-like fashion. Meanwhile Cuthbert wasexpressly called by Maxwell to go to the front, and take charge of acompany of musketeers, the officers of which were all killed orwounded. He ran eagerly forward and was soon hotly engaged; but theroyal dragoons coming up to the support of their foot, and bothforcing their way on with ardour, the musketeers were withdrawn byMaxwell behind the reserve of pikemen; and these moving up in good andcompact order soon came to a gallant push of pike, and drove back theenemy with severe loss; at the same time the musketeers stoutlysupported the push of pike with their clubbed muskets, and made abloody carnage in the royal ranks. In this melee Cuthbert owed hislife to that expertness at the sword exercise for which he wasindebted to the lessons of George Juxon; for by a dexterous parry hebeat off the assault of a stout Royalist officer, who ran at him as hewas grasping at a colour, the bearer of which had stumbled, and,killing him by a home thrust through the body, succeeded in taking thecolour.
In the pause which followed on the repulse of this attack Cuthbertreceived the high praise of Maxwell, and the honest congratulations ofCaptain Ruddiman, who, at close quarters, had himself done goodservice among the Royalists, making not a few bite the dust beneaththe blows of a heavy poll-axe which he had found upon the field. Bothparties now for awhile took wind and breath; but soon again the horseof Essex's right wing was led by Sir William Balfour against the pointof the King's left. Their squadrons passed the flank of Maxwell'sregiment, as they advanced at a walk to take their ground before theyformed up for the charge; and Francis Heywood, already distinguishedby his brilliant conduct at the unfortunate affair of Pershore, passedso close to Cuthbert that they shook hands. It scarcely seemed aminute from this friendly greeting ere their trumpets sounded thecharge, and with a desperate fury they galloped towards the enemy. Thefirst line broke before them: the second was staggered; but tworegiments of the royal dragoons, in reserve, came swiftly to theiraid, and by the fire of their long carbines struck down a great manyof the Parliament horse, and following this up by a charge, compelledthem to wheel about. The royal foot now advanced again, and made afurious attack upon the right of Essex, and pushed up to the verymouths of his cannon, and drove away the gunners and spiked several ofthe guns; but this artillery was valiantly won back by theParliamentarians: and the brigade of foot in which Maxwell's regimentfought actually charged the royal dragoons with their pikes, and drovethem back in disorder, with the loss of a great many men and horses.It so happened, in this last movement, that when the two parties wereclose together, Cuthbert caught a momentary but a very distinct viewof the fine countenance of young Arthur Heywood, and heard him cryaloud, "Strike home, lads, for God and the King!" The smoke of battlesoon hid the vision, and the royal dragoons were compelled to retire.
Prince Rupert had beaten the left wing of Essex, and was in fullpursuit; but as night drew on the horsemen of the Prince were seenreturning to the field of battle; and as the right wing had maintainedits ground stubbornly, the battle ended by the King retiring to thehills, and leaving Essex in possession of the field, where he kept histroops together throughout the night. Both sides laid claim to thevictory, and both gained some advantages in the fight, but theirlosses were very heavy and nearly equal. However, Essex slept upon thefield of battle, and was joined in the night by most of the fugitivesfrom his left wing, and was further reinforced by the arrival of twogood regiments of foot and one of horse.
The sun had no sooner set on the evening of the battle than it beganto freeze hard; and it being Cuthbert's turn for outline guard, he wasposted at the end of a considerable enclosure, near some large gaps,which had been made by the enemy in their attacks to admit of theirbringing up their cannon and their cavalry. The slaughter near thisspot had been considerable, and Cuthbert had to plant his sentinelsamong mangled and naked corpses; but in the gloom and obscurity ofnight the only appearance they presented was that of pallid and stonyobjects without a shape. He was surprised to find himself insensibleto any feeling but the low animal sensations of hunger, cold, andweariness. He sat round the watch fire with the men composing theguard, and ate ravenously of such coarse provisions as were issued.His share of the plunder had been a large warm horseman's cloak, whichhis corporal had found among the slain of the King's guards, and whichhe now folded about him as he lay down to rest with a very thankfulbut somewhat a selfish sense of comfort. He gave orders that heshould be waked at every relief of the sentinels, and then sunk into adeep slumber, from which he was aroused, within two hours, to go hisrounds. When he returned from them all disposition for sleep haddeparted. He trimmed the watch fire, and
was soon the only one awakenear the spot except the sentinel. A little book, with silver cornersand clasps, lay on the ground, where it had apparently been thrown byone of the soldiers: it attracted the eye of Cuthbert by the gleamingof its silver clasps,--he took it up; the covers were smeared withdirt: he opened it,--it was a Book of Common Prayer: a leaf was foldeddown at the collect for the day; and in the inside of the cover waswritten the following quotation from George Herbert:--
"Sundays observe:--think, when the bells do chime, 'Tis angels' music."
He knew the handwriting; it was that of Katharine: he knew the book;he remembered the Sabbath morning when she first presented it to hercousin Arthur. He thought upon that glimpse which he had caught of hispupil's countenance in the battle, and he shuddered withapprehensions.
