A soldier, armed with a pike, strove to hurl him from the ladder, but the man was shot by Careless, who followed the king closely.
Again, while springing over the parapets, Charles was opposed by a musketeer, but he cut him down, and next moment the heroic young monarch was joined by Careless, and instantly afterwards by a dozen of his body-guard, and their number was quickly augmented.
Charles was now master of the fort, for the Republican soldiers, after an ineffectual resistance, were put to the sword.
In the struggle, Colonel James discharged a pistol at the king, but missed his mark, and in his turn was attacked by Careless.
"I told you we would soon be with you," cried the Cavalier. "Yield, and I will spare thy life."
"I would not accept life at thy hands," rejoined the commandant. "Look to thyself!"
And beating down Careless's point with his heavy blade, he stepped quickly backwards and disappeared. He had, in fact, dashed down a narrow staircase communicating with the lower chambers of the fort, and secured his retreat by pulling a trap-door over the entrance.
Meanwhile, Charles had torn down the flag of the Commonwealth, and replaced it by the royal standard. As soon as this signal of victory could be distinguished by his forces loud cheers were raised. Possession was immediately taken of the fort, but no prisoners were made, for Colonel James, and the few of his men left alive, had evacuated the lower chambers. They had fled, it appeared, by a covered way, and had entered the city through a postern near the Sidbury-gate.
By-and-bye the general officers came to congratulate the king on his victory and express their admiration of his prowess, and it then became a question whether the siege should be continued – General Dalyell being of opinion that the city could be captured before night, if an immediate attack were made upon the fortifications; but Charles decided on waiting till the morrow.
"I have done enough for the day," he said. "Since I am master of this fort, the city is at my disposal, and I can occupy it at my leisure."
"Very true, my liege," observed Dalyell. "But the garrison will take advantage of your forbearance to escape."
"I will not molest them if they adopt that prudent course," said the king, laughing. "They have ceased firing from the walls."
"But the men are still at their posts."
"If they give us any further trouble, we can turn these guns upon them. Hark ye, gentlemen. Henceforth this fort shall be known as Fort Royal."
"A fitting designation, since your majesty has captured it," said Dalyell.
"Let the tents be pitched," said Charles. "The day's work is over. We can take our rest after our long march. To-morrow we will enter the city in triumph."
All happened precisely as Charles had foreseen. Not another shot was fired by the Republicans. The Royalists encamped quietly on the hill. But though no apprehensions were entertained of an attack, those within Fort Royal were kept on the alert throughout the night.
Colonel James, however, had other designs. Convinced by what had happened that the fortifications were no longer tenable, he decided on abandoning them. With the whole of his men, he quitted the city secretly at dead of night, taking the mayor and the sheriff with him as prisoners. Crossing the bridge over the Severn, he rode off in the direction of Gloucester.
The Royalists were aware of his retreat, but, in obedience to the king's injunctions, did not seek to interrupt him.
CHAPTER II.
SHOWING HOW THE MAYOR OF WORCESTER AND THE SHERIFF WERE TAKEN TO UPTON-ON-SEVERN, AND HOW THEY GOT BACK AGAIN
Fatigued by his long march of three hundred miles and upwards, Charles slept so soundly in his tent on Perry Wood, that neither the beating of the drum at daybreak, the challenging of the sentinels, nor any of the customary camp sounds, disturbed him. The men themselves answered very reluctantly to the reveillé. However, the fresh morning air soon revived them. A day of ease and enjoyment lay before them. No more toilsome marches, no more skirmishes, but rest – for that day, at least. Two-thirds of the infantry were without shoes, but being hardy Scots they did not count this an inconvenience. They all bemoaned the ragged and weather-stained condition of their uniforms, but they had heard that Worcester was famous for broadcloth, and the king had promised them better garments when they reached the city.
The morn was lovely, and gave promise of a splendid day. At that early hour, the view from the heights of the old and picturesque city, with the broad river flowing past it, was enchanting, and delighted even the rough soldiers who gazed at it. The fair Malvern Hills, however, chiefly called forth their admiration as reminding them of their native mountains, though they admitted that few of the Scottish valleys could compare with the fertile vale of the Severn.
While many a greedy eye was fixed on Worcester, and many a cunning tongue was talking of its wealth, and the plunder it would yield, if they were only allowed to pillage it, the attention of the soldiers was attracted to the walls, which had now become thronged with the citizens and their wives and daughters, while all the church bells – and no church in the old city lacked its proper complement of bells – began to ring forth joyous peals. It was clear that the city was now awake and astir, and the half-famished soldiers hoped that immediate preparations would be made for their refreshment, and on an extraordinary scale.
It was about this time that Major Careless, who had attired himself rather hurriedly, being excited by the prodigious clangour of the bells, entered the king's tent, and found the young monarch fast asleep – fast as a top.
"Zounds!" mentally ejaculated the aide-de-camp; "his majesty must sleep soundly, since this din does not disturb him – but no wonder. I'll give him another hour."
And he turned to depart, when Charles suddenly ceased breathing hard, and opened his eyes.
"What sound is that?" he cried, raising himself on his elbow and listening.
"The bells of Worcester ringing for your majesty's glorious victory – that's all," replied Careless.
"And enough too," cried the king, looking well pleased. "What has happened to the garrison?"
"Evacuated the fortifications – taken to flight."
"Just what I expected – just what I desired."
"But your majesty did not expect – nor, I presume, desire – that Colonel James would take the mayor of Worcester and the sheriff with him."
"'Sdeath!" exclaimed the king. "Has he had the audacity to do so?"
"Even so, my liege. No doubt they were specially obnoxious to him on account of their loyalty, and he might wish to hold them for ransom. 'Tis lucky he didn't carry off others. There are several prisoners of note in Worcester – Lord Talbot, Sir John Pakington, and Colonel Mervin Touchet. But the rascal contented himself with the mayor and the sheriff. At what hour will it please your majesty to enter the city?"
"At noon," replied Charles.
"Not till noon! why, we have no rations," cried Careless, in dismay. "Your army has nothing to eat. Will your majesty keep the men fasting till noon? If you could only see how hungry they look, you would feel some pity for them."
"They shall all have a good breakfast in Worcester – that I promise them."
"There will be plenty of grumbling at the delay."
"Bah! they always grumble. I must give my loyal subjects time to decorate their houses and make all necessary preparations for my entrance, or I shall disappoint them of their anticipated spectacle."
"Your hungry soldiers will pray that twelve o'clock may come."
"Let them listen to the bells. How blithely they sound!"
"Excuse me, sire. When we are enduring the pangs of hunger the sweetest sounds become a mockery. Spare us this aggravated torture."
"Leave