Boscobel: or, the royal oak. Ainsworth William Harrison. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Ainsworth William Harrison
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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.

      "Well, deserted, sire. But they had this excuse. Being zealous Presbyterians, they had conscientious scruples against establishing the Episcopal government in England by force of arms; and like sentiments prevail, to a great extent, among the remainder of the troops. Since our arrival at Worcester their discontent has perceptibly increased. They do not like to fight with the Cavaliers. For this reason, they are not pleased with the Muster about to take place to-day, neither do they desire to be joined by the levies promised by the Earl of Derby."

      "They fear that my devoted adherents may become too strong for them. Is it not so, colonel?" asked Charles, coldly.

      "They deem that a preponderance of the royal party – strictly so called – though we are all Royalists – would be contrary to the true interests of Scotland, and to the welfare of the Kirk."

      "Ah, I see!" exclaimed the king. "The Committee of the Kirk of Scotland have troubled their consciences – meddlesome fools that they are! But you must keep your men in good humour, Lesley. They must fight this battle. Assure them that I am a zealous partisan of the Covenant, and that when I ascend the throne I will ratify all the conditions imposed upon me."

      "Humph!" exclaimed Lesley. "I may give them these assurances, but they will not believe me. So critical do I consider the position, that if I dared to offer your majesty a counsel, it would be to return to Scotland without hazarding an engagement."

      "Return to Scotland! – never!" exclaimed Charles, indignantly. "How dare you make a proposition so dishonouring to me, Lesley. I have not advanced thus far into my kingdom to go back again without a blow."

      "I knew my advice would be distasteful to your majesty, but I deemed it my duty to give it."

      "No more!" cried the king. "Quell this mutinous spirit in your men, Lesley – quell it, by whatever means you can. Mark well what I say, and fail not to repeat it. When we have routed the rebels – and we shall rout them – those who have fought best for me shall receive the highest reward."

      Before Lesley could make any reply, Pitscottie approached his majesty.

      "Where are your Highlanders, colonel?" demanded Charles.

      "Drawn up in the college green, sire. I await your orders to march them to the place of Muster."

      "Have they heard that Cromwell is at hand?"

      "Ay, sire; and they are eager to meet him."

      "No discontent among them – ha?"

      "Discontent! No, sire. They were never in better spirits. All they desire is to prove their zeal to your majesty, and use their broadswords against the foe."

      "Brave fellows!" exclaimed Charles, glancing significantly at Lesley. "They shall serve as my body-guard to-day."

       CHAPTER IX.

      OF THE GRAND MUSTER AT PITCHCROFT

      Ever since the old city of Worcester was built and encircled by walls, Pitchcroft has afforded its inhabitants a delightful place for exercise and recreation. On this broad, flat plain, bounded on the west by the Severn, and completely overlooked by a natural terrace on the further bank of the river, many a grand tournament has been held in the days of our earlier monarchs. Magnificent pavilions and galleries have been reared upon the wide mead – splendid cavalcades have come forth from the city gates – nobles, knights, squires, jesters, and fair dames – and many a lance has been splintered at the royal jousts of Worcester. In 1225, these displays incurred the displeasure of the Church – a grand tournament being held on Pitchcroft in that year, when all the noble personages concerned in it were excommunicated by Bishop Blois. Sports and pastimes of all kinds have been familiar to the plain from time immemorial – games which, by a pretty figure of speech, have been described as Olympian, and which, we rejoice to say, are not altogether discontinued. Not only has Pitchcroft been the scene of many a knightly encounter and many a festive meeting, but when the loyal city was invested, it witnessed frequent conflicts between Cavaliers and Roundheads, and one well-fought action, in which the fiery Rupert took part.

      On the morning appointed for the Muster, Pitchcroft was even more thronged than it had been on the previous Sunday, and presented a far gayer and more animated appearance. A great number of troops was assembled there, while the new levies were continually pouring into the plain through Foregate-street.

      Before proceeding to the place of rendezvous, the recruits entered the city, and halted for a time in the area near the Cross, where their numbers were registered by the mayor and the sheriff, who acted as commissioners.

      Among the principal names inscribed on the muster-roll were those of Lord Talbot, Sir John Pakington, Sir Walter Blount, Sir Ralph Clare, Sir Rowland Berkley, Sir John Winford, Mr. Ralph Sheldon of Beoley, Mr. John Washburn of Witchinford, and Mr. Thomas Hornyold.

      Lord Talbot's troop, which was far more numerous than any other, was composed almost entirely of gentlemen, whose accoutrements and horses were far superior to those of ordinary cavalry. The regiment was commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Mervin Touchet, and subsequently proved exceedingly efficient. Every Cavalier who came singly to Worcester was included in some troop or other.

      These arrangements were made by Colonel Lane and Colonel Legge, assisted by Sir Clement Fisher. As quickly as one troop was filled up, it was sent off to the place of Muster. It was calculated that two thousand Worcestershire Cavaliers, including of course retainers and servants, answered the king's summons on that day.

      The sight of so many recruits tended materially to dissipate the alarm not unnaturally excited by the rumours of Cromwell's near approach. Having begun to distrust the Scottish soldiers, the citizens were glad to have some defenders on whom they could confidently rely. For this reason, as well as for their gallant bearing and handsome equipments, the recruits were lustily cheered as they appeared on the plain.

      A large concourse was collected in Foregate-street, and on the northern walls, to see the new troops come forth. The Scottish regiments of cavalry and infantry excited but little curiosity; the chief objects of interest being the numerous small bodies of horse, extending for a quarter of a mile on the left – each little troop with its officers in front.

      The effect of this arrangement was extremely good, and delighted the spectators on the city walls and those on the west bank of the river.

      The last troop had just got into its place, when the shrill notes of the pibroch were heard, and the Highlanders, with Colonel Pitscottie at their head, marched forth, and were received with cheers by the crowd assembled in Foregate-street.

      Acclamations greeted the king.