Plongez dans la suite palpitante de *Micah Clarke – Tome II* ✨, une œuvre historique magistrale signée par Arthur Conan Doyle, le célèbre créateur de Sherlock Holmes 🕵️. Ce second tome nous entraîne encore plus profondément dans les tourments de la rébellion de Monmouth, entre intrigues politiques, batailles sanglantes et dilemmes moraux.
Dans ce récit, Micah Clarke poursuit son voyage initiatique au cœur de l’Angleterre du XVIIe siècle. Entre les complots et les champs de bataille, il se retrouve confronté à des choix qui marqueront son destin à jamais. 🌍⚔️ Véritable fresque d’aventures, ce roman allie action, passion et réflexion sur la loyauté, la foi et la liberté.
👉 Pourquoi écouter cette œuvre ?
– Une immersion dans l’histoire anglaise du XVIIe siècle 📚
– Une plume magistrale qui mélange aventure et émotion 💫
– Un récit rare d’Arthur Conan Doyle au-delà de Sherlock Holmes 🔎
– Parfait pour les amateurs d’épopées historiques et de récits épiques 🏰
📌 Abonnez-vous à la chaîne pour ne manquer aucun chef-d’œuvre littéraire : [https://bit.ly/LivresAudioLaMagieDesMots](https://bit.ly/LivresAudioLaMagieDesMots)
–📜 Micah Clarke – Tome I | Arthur Conan Doyle ✨ [https://youtu.be/255ZBJMXVrU]
-Micah Clarke – Tome II 📜⚔️ Par Arthur Conan Doyle [https://youtu.be/FqAoGRUqDbE]
#Audiobook #LivreAudio #ArthurConanDoyle #MicahClarke #RomanHistorique #LittératureClassique #Histoire
✨ Hashtags optimisés :
#MicahClarke #ArthurConanDoyle #RomanHistorique #LivreAudio #AudiobookFrançais #Classique #LectureAudio #HistoireAnglaise #RébellionDeMonmouth #LittératureFrançaise #RomanÉpique #AventureHistorique #Épopée #LivreGratuit #HistoireEuropéenne #GrandeBretagne #RomansClassiques #ConanDoyle #LittératureMondiale #Culture
**Navigate by Chapters or Titles:**
00:00:31 Chapter 1.
00:17:35 Chapter 2.
00:42:00 Chapter 3.
01:30:43 Chapter 4.
01:57:52 Chapter 5.
02:20:48 Chapter 6.
02:56:55 Chapter 7.
03:18:06 Chapter 8.
03:58:29 Chapter 9.
04:35:48 Chapter 10.
05:10:29 Chapter 11.
In this second volume of Micah Clarke, Arthur Conan Doyle plunges us even deeper into the turmoil of 17th- century England. We follow the steps of Micah, a young man swept up in the maelstrom of the Duke of Monmouth’s revolt. Courage, loyalty, and faith are tested in a world where civil war pits family and friends against each other. With a style that is both vibrant and realistic, Doyle weaves a historical epic where each battle becomes a reflection of the inner conflicts and moral choices that forge a destiny. Chapter 1. Our Arrival At Taunton. The purple evening shadows stretched across the countryside. The sun had set behind the distant heights of Quantock and Brendon when the column of infantry, formed by our rugged peasants, marched heavily through Curry Revel, Wrantage, and Hendale. From all the cottages along the roadside, from all the red-tiled farmhouses, peasants poured out in crowds as we passed, carrying jugs full of milk or beer, shaking hands with our rustics, and urging them to accept food or drink. In the small villages, young and old came running, buzzing, to greet us, and gave long, loud shouts in honor of King Monmouth and the Protestant Cause. The people who stayed at home were almost all old men and children, but here and there a young ploughman, held back by hesitation or some duty, was so excited by our martial air , by the visible trophies of our victory, that he seized a weapon and joined our ranks. The engagement had reduced our numbers, but it had produced a great moral effect and transformed our rabble of peasants into a veritable troop of soldiers. Saxon’s authority, the brave and harsh phrases in which he distributed praise or blame, had produced even more. The men arranged themselves in a certain order and marched briskly in a compact body. The old soldier and I rode at the head of the column, Master Pettigrue always walking between us on foot. Then came the cart laden with our dead. We carried them with us to ensure them a decent burial. Next marched about forty men armed with scythes and sickles , carrying their primitive weapons on their shoulders and preceding the cart containing our wounded. After came the bulk of the peasant troop. The rear guard consisted of ten or twelve men under the command of Lockarby and Sir Gervas. They rode the captured horses and carried the dragoons’ breastplates, swords , and carbines. I observed that Saxon rode with his head turned back, and cast anxious glances in that direction, and that he stopped near every ledge of the ground, to make sure that we had no one at our heels to pursue us. It was only when we had traveled many miles of monotonous travel , and when the glitter of the lights of Taunton could be seen far down the valley, towards which we were descending, that he heaved a deep sigh of relief, and declared that he believed us to be out of all danger. “I am not inclined to be alarmed over trifles,” he remarked, “but we are so embarrassed with wounded and prisoners, that even Petrinus himself would have been very much at a loss to say what we should have to do, in case the cavalry should overtake us.” Now, Master Pettigrue, I can smoke my pipe in peace, without pricking up my ears for the slightest creaking of a wheel, or the yawning of a merry villager. “Even if we were pursued,” said the minister resolutely , “as long as the Lord’s hand serves as our shield, why should we fear them? ” “Yes, yes,” replied Saxon impatiently, “but in certain circumstances, it is the devil who has the upper hand. Have not the people themselves been defeated and taken captive? What do you think, Clarke?” “An engagement like that is enough for one day,” I remarked. ” By my faith, if instead of charging, they had continued to fire their carbines, we would have had to make a sortie or fall under the bullets where we stood. ” “That is why I forbade our men armed with muskets to return fire,” said Saxon. “Their silence made the enemy believe that we had only one or two pistols between us. Also, our fire was all the more terrifying for being more unexpected. I would wager that among them there is not a man who does not understand that he has been lured into a trap. Notice how these scoundrels turned and fled , as if it were part of their daily exercise. ” “The peasants took the shock like men,” I remarked. “There is nothing like a tincture of Calvinism to hold a line of battle rigid,” said Saxon. Look at the Swede when he is at home. Where will you find a man with a more honest heart, a simpler one, more devoid of any military qualities, except that he is capable of ingesting more birch beer than you can buy . And yet it is enough to stuff him with a few energetic, familiar texts , to put a pike in his hands, and to give him a Gustavus for leader, and there is no infantry in the world capable of resisting him. On the other hand, I have seen young Turks, without military training, fight in honor of the Koran with as much enthusiasm as the fellows who follow us did in honor of the Bible that Master Pettigrue carried before them. “I hope,” said the minister gravely, “that by these remarks you do not intend to establish any comparison between our sacred scriptures and the compositions of the impostor Mahomet, nor to infer an analogy between the fury that the devil inspires in the unbelieving Saracens, and the Christian courage of the faithful who fight. ” “In no way,” replied Saxon, giving me a sneer over the minister’s head, “I merely showed how clever the evil one is at imitating the influences of the Spirit. ” “That is only too true, Master Saxon,” said the minister sadly. ” Among debates and discords, it is very difficult to discern the true path. But I marvel that, amidst the traps and temptations that assail the life of a soldier, you have kept yourself pure from defilement, and your heart always faithful to the true faith. ” “That strength did not come from myself,” said Saxon in a pious tone. “Truly, truly,” cried Master Joshua, “men like you are very necessary in Monmouth’s army. There are several, I have been told, who come from Holland, Brandenburg, and Scotland, and who have been trained in the art of war, but they care so little for the cause we support that they swear and curse in such a way as to frighten our peasants and bring down upon the army a condemnation from on high. There are others who hold firmly to the true faith and who have been brought up among the righteous, but alas! they have no experience of camp and field. Our Divine Master may act by means of feeble instruments, but it is no less certain that such a one may be chosen to shine in the pulpit, and yet be little capable of making himself useful in a skirmish such as we saw today.” For my part, I know how to arrange a speech in such a way as to satisfy my flock, and that my listeners are angry to see the hourglass finished, but I feel that this talent would be of little use when it comes to erecting barricades, or using carnal weapons. This is how it is in the army of the faithful: those who have the ability to command are frowned upon by the people, while those whose words the people willingly listen to are little understood in matters of war. Now we have seen today that you are a man of head and action, and nevertheless of life modest and reserved, full of aspirations after the Word, and threats against Apollyon. Therefore, I repeat to you, you will be among them a veritable Joshua, or else a Samson, destined to break the twin pillars of Prelaticism and Popery, so as to bury in its fall this corrupt government. Decimus Saxon confined his only reply to one of those grunts which passed among these fanatics for the manifestation of intense agitation, of an inward emotion. His countenance was so austere, so pious, his gestures so solemn. He repeated so many times his grimace, raising his eyes, clasping his hands, and making so many other antics which characterized the exalted sectarian, that I could not help admiring the depth and perfection of the hypocrisy which had so completely enveloped his rapacious nature under its mantle. A malicious impulse, which I could not control, led me to remind him that there was at least one man who appreciated the appearances he gave himself at their value. “Have you told the worthy minister,” I said, “of your captivity among the Muslims and the noble manner in which you upheld the Catholic faith in Istanbul ? ” “No,” cried our companion, “I would have great pleasure in hearing that story. I marvel that a man as faithful, as inflexible as you, was ever set free by the impure and bloodthirsty followers of Mahomet. ” “It is not proper for me to tell this story,” said Saxon with great composure, throwing me a sideways glance full of venom. “It is for my comrades in ill fortune, and not for me, to describe what I have suffered for the faith.” I am almost certain, Master Pettigrue, that you would have done as I did, if you had been there… The town of Taunton unfolds very quietly before us, and there is very little light for such a late hour, seeing that it is nearly ten o’clock. It is clear that Monmouth’s troops have not yet arrived, otherwise we would have seen signs of bivouacs in the valley; for if it is warm enough to sleep in the open air, the men are obliged to make fires to prepare their meals. “The army would have had some difficulty in getting so far,” said the minister. ” It has, I have been informed, been much delayed by the lack of weapons and the lack of discipline. Remember also, that it was on the eleventh that Monmouth’s landing at Lyme took place, and we are only at the night of the fourteenth. A lot had to be done in that time. ” “Four whole days!” grumbled the old soldier. And yet I expected nothing better, given the lack of experienced soldiers among them, I’m told. By my sword! Tilly or Wallenstein wouldn’t have taken four days to get from Lyme to Taunton, even if all of King James’s cavalry had blocked the road. It’s not thus, by dawdling, that one conducts great enterprises. One must strike strongly, suddenly. But, tell me, my worthy sir, for we have gathered little more than rumors and suppositions on the way, was there not some sort of engagement at Bridport? “Indeed, there was a little bloodshed in that locality. As I have learned, the first two days were spent in enlisting the faithful, and in seeking arms to provide them. You are right to nod your head, for the hours were precious.” At last, about five hundred men were brought into some order, and marched along the coast under the command of Lord Grey of Wark and Wade, the lawyer. At Bridport, they encountered the Dorset Red Militia and some of Portman’s Yellowcoats . If all that is said is true, there is no cause for pride on either side. Grey and his cavalry did not cease to pull on the bridle until they had returned to safety at Lyme. It is said, however, that their flight was rather attributable to the harshness of the mouths of their mounts than to the half-heartedness of the riders. Wade and his foot soldiers stood bravely and prevailed over the King’s troops. There was much shouting in the camp against Grey, but Monmouth can hardly afford to be severe towards the only gentleman who joined his standard. “Phew!” said Saxon, gruffly, “gentlemen were not plentiful in Cromwell’s army, I believe, and yet it cut a good figure against the King, who had around him as many Lords as there are berries in a bush. If you have the people on your side, what good is it to seek out those fine gentlemen in wigs, whose white hands and fine rapiers are as useful as hairpins ? ” “Upon my word,” I said, “if all the dandies care as little for their lives as our friend Sir Gervas, I could not wish for better companions on the field of battle.” “And it is true, yes,” cried Master Pettigrue with conviction. “And yet, like Joseph, he wears a coat of many colors, and he has strange ways of speaking. No one could have fought so bravely , nor made a better showing against the enemies of Israel. Surely this young man has good in his heart, and will become a dwelling place of grace and a vessel of the Spirit, though for the moment he is entangled in the net of worldly follies and carnal vanities. ” “We must hope so,” said Saxon devoutly. “But have you anything more to tell us about the revolt, worthy sir?” “Very little, except that the peasants have flocked in such great numbers that many have had to be sent away for want of weapons. All those who pay tithes in the county of Somerset are going in search of crowbars and scythes .” There is not a smith who is not busy in his forge from morning till night, making pike irons. There are six thousand men like that in the camp, but they have not even one musket for five. I have been told that they have marched on Axminster, where they will have to deal with the Duke of Albemarle, who has left Exeter with four thousand men of the London militia. “Then, whatever we do, we shall arrive too late,” I cried. “You will have enough fighting before Monmouth exchanges his riding hat for a crown and his lace-trimmed roquelaure for the purple,” said Saxon. ” If our worthy friend here is exactly informed, and an engagement of this sort takes place, it will be only the prologue to the play.” When Churchill and Feversham arrive with the King’s own troops, it will be then that Monmouth will take the great leap, which will carry him to the throne or to the scaffold. While this conversation was taking place, we had been putting our horses to a walk to descend the winding path that runs along the eastern slope of Taunton Deane.
For some time past, we had been able to see in the valley below us the lights of the town of Taunton, and the long silver band of the River Tone. The moon, shining brightly in a cloudless sky, shed a soft and peaceful radiance over the loveliest and richest of English valleys. Magnificent stately residences, crenellated towers, groups of cottages well sheltered under their thatched roofs, the vast and silent expanses of wheat fields, dark groves, through which shone the lighted windows of the houses that populated their depths, all this developed around us, like the indefinite, mute landscapes that unfold before us in our dreams. There was in this picture so much calm, so much beauty, that we stopped our horses at a bend in the path, that the weary peasants, their feet bruised, halted, that the wounded themselves rose in the cart, to delight their eyes with a glance cast upon this promised land. Suddenly, from the silence, arose a strong, fervent voice, which addressed to the Source of Life to ask it to keep and preserve what it had created. It was Master Joshua Pettigrue, who, on his knees, implored both light for the future, and expressed his gratitude that his flock had emerged safe and sound from the dangers encountered on its path. I would like, my children, to possess one of those magic crystals of which you read in books, so that I could show you this scene: the black silhouettes of the horsemen, the grave, serious attitude of the peasants, some kneeling in prayer, others leaning on their crude weapons, the expression at once submissive and mocking of the captive dragoons, the row of pale figures, contracted by suffering, who looked over the edge of the cart, the chorus of groans, cries, broken sentences which sometimes interrupted the firm and even speech of the pastor. If only I were able to paint such a scene with the brush of a Verrio or a Laguerre, I would not need to describe it in this disjointed and feeble language. Master Pettigrue had finished his thanksgiving address, and was about to rise when the musical ringing of a bell reached us from the sleeping town below. For a minute or two, this sound rose by turns loud and faint, in its sweet and clear vibration. It was followed by a second stroke of a deeper, harsher note, and by a third, and at last the air was filled with a joyous chime. At the same time, there was a murmur of shouts and applause, which swelled, spread, and became a mighty roar. Lights glittered in the windows. Drums beat. The whole town was in movement. These sudden manifestations of rejoicing, following so closely the minister’s prayer, were regarded as a happy omen by the superstitious peasants, who gave a shout of joy and, setting off again , soon arrived at the confines of the town. The paths and roadway were black with a crowd formed by the town’s population, men, women, and children. Many of them carried torches and lanterns, and this dense mass was moving in the same direction. We followed them, and found ourselves in the market-place, where groups of young apprentices were crowding people for a bonfire, while others were tapping two or three large casks of ale. What gave rise to this sudden explosion of joy was the fresh news that the Albemarle militia had partly deserted , and that the rest had been beaten that morning at Axminster. When the success of our own engagement was learned, the popular joy became more tumultuous than ever. People rushed to our midst, and we were showered with blessings, in that strange western dialect, with its thick pronunciation. Our horses were embraced as much as ourselves. Preparations were soon made to welcome our weary companions. A long empty building, which served as a storehouse for wool, was lined with a thick layer of straw and placed at their disposal. A large tub filled with ale was placed there, and an abundant supply of cold meats and wheat bread. For our part, we went down East Street, through the shouts and handshakes of the crowd, to the White Hart Inn, where, after a hasty meal, we were very happy to go to bed. But late in the night our sleep was interrupted by the revelry of the crowd, who, after burning in effigy Lord Sunderland and Gregory Alford, Mayor of Lyme, lingered singing West Country songs and Puritan hymns until the early hours of the morning.
Chapter 2. The Gathering in the Market Place. The beautiful town where we now found ourselves was the real center of the rebellion, though Monmouth had not yet arrived there. It was a flourishing locality, carrying on a large trade in wool and ribbed cloth, which gave employment to nearly seven thousand inhabitants. Thus it occupied a high rank among English cities, and was surpassed only by Bristol, Norwich, Bath, Exeter, York, and Worcester, among the provincial towns. Taunton had long been famous not only for its resources and the enterprise of its inhabitants, but also for the beauty and good cultivation of the country which extended around it and produced a valiant race of farmers. From time immemorial, the town had been a rallying center for the party of liberty, and for many years it had inclined towards the Republic in politics and towards Puritanism in matters of religion. No place in the kingdom had fought more bravely for Parliament, and although it had been twice besieged by Goring, the burgesses, under the brave Robert Blake, had fought so desperately that each time the Royalists had been obliged to withdraw in defeat. During the second siege, the garrison had been reduced to subsisting on the flesh of dogs and horses, but not a word of surrender had passed from his lips, nor from that of the heroic commander. This was the same Blake under whom the old mariner Solomon Sprent had fought against the Dutch. After the Restoration, the Privy Council, to show that it remembered the part played by the glorious town in the county of Somerset, had ordered, by a very special measure, the demolition of the walls which surrounded the virgin city. Also, at the time of which I speak, there remained of the thick walled enclosure , so bravely defended by the last generation of townspeople, only a few miserable piles of debris. However, there were still many reminders of those stormy times. The houses around the perimeter still bore the scars and cracks produced by the bombs and grenades of the horsemen. Moreover, the whole town had a fierce and martial appearance. It would have been like a veteran among the cities that had fought in times gone by.
It did not fear to see once again the flash of cannons and to hear the sharp whistle of projectiles. Charles’s Council could destroy the ramparts that his soldiers had been unable to take, but no royal edict had the power to put an end to the resolute character and the advanced opinions of the burghers. Many of them, born and brought up in the din of civil war, had been subjected from their childhood to the incendiary action of tales of the war of old, and of the memories of the great assault in which the child-eaters of Lumley were hurled down the breach by the vigorous arms of their fathers. Thus were kept alive in Taunton a more energetic disposition, a more warlike character than in any other provincial town in England. This flame was fanned by the indefatigable activity of a chosen band of nonconformist preachers, among whom the most prominent was Joseph Alleine. It could not have been a better choice as a center of revolt, for no city attached more value to the liberties and faith which were threatened. A large body of burgesses had already left to join the rebel army, but many had remained in the town to defend it. These were reinforced by bands of peasants, like the one we ourselves had joined. They had flocked in droves from the surrounding area, and now they divided their time between the speeches of their favorite preachers, and the exercise which consisted of lining up and handling their weapons. In the courtyards, the streets, the market squares, they learned the march, the maneuvers, in the evening, in the morning, at noon. When we went out on horseback after lunch, the whole town resounded with the shouts of command and the clash of weapons. Our friends of yesterday were going to the market square as we arrived, and they had hardly seen us when they took off their hats and greeted us with loud cheers, and they only consented to be silent when we had trotted up to take our place at their head. “They have sworn that no one else would be their leader,” said the minister, standing by Saxon’s stirrup. “I could not wish for sturdier fellows to lead,” he said. “Let them deploy in double line, in front of the town hall! Like that! That’s it! ” “Draw up well, rear line!” he said, placing himself on horseback opposite them. “Now take up your position, your left flank motionless, to serve as a pivot for the other!” That’s it: here is a line as rigid, as straight as a sword coming from the hands of Andrea Ferrara… I beg you, friend, do not hold your pike as if it were a hoe, although I hope you will do good work with it in pruning the Lord’s vineyard… And you, sir, you must carry your musketoon on your shoulder instead of holding it under your arm as a dandy holds his cane. Has ever an unfortunate soldier been obliged to put in order such a motley crew! My good friend the Fleming himself would not be of much use here, any more than Petrinus who, in his treatise De re militari, gives no instructions on how to make a man whose weapon is a sickle or a scythe do the exercise. “Shoulder scythe! Carry scythe! Present scythe!” whispered Ruben in Sir Gervas’s ear. And they both burst out laughing, not caring about the stooped Saxon’s frown. “Let’s divide them,” he said, “into three companies of eighty men. ” “No, just a moment… How many men have you armed with muskets? Fifty-five. Let them come out of the ranks! They will form the first line or company. Sir Gervas Jerome, you have doubtless commanded the militia of your county, and you know something about firing drill. If I am the leader of this troop, I appoint you captain of this company. It will form the first in the battle, and it is a position you will not dislike, I know. ” “By Jove, they will have to powder their heads,” said Sir Gervas decisively . “You will have to see to their whole arrangement,” replied Saxon. “Let the first company advance six paces onto the bridge! That’s it!… Now let the men armed with pikes come forward! Eighty- seven!” A company fit for duty. Lockarby, take charge of these men, and remember this: the German wars have shown it. The best cavalry is as powerless against firm pikemen as waves against a rock. You shall be the captain of the second company. Go and place yourself at its head. “By my faith, if they don’t know how to fight better than their captain knows how to ride,” said Reuben in a low voice, “it will be a bad business. I hope they will be more solid on the field of battle than I am in the saddle. ” “As for the third company of men armed with scythes, I entrust them to your care, Captain Micah Clarke,” resumed Saxon. “Good Master Joshua Pettigrue will be our military chaplain. Will not his voice and his presence be to us like manna in the desert, like springs of water in dry places? As for the non-commissioned officers, I see you have already chosen them.” Your captains will have the right to add to this number those who strike with cold blood and show no mercy . Now I have one more thing to say to you. I speak in such a way that everyone will hear me, and that later no one will complain that they were not made clearly aware of the rules of their service. So, I warn you that when the bugle sounds the evening roll call, and the helmet and pike have been laid aside, I am like you, and you like me, both workers in the same field, and we drink from the same sources of life. So I will pray with you, I will preach with you, I will give you explanations, I will do everything that is appropriate for a brother pilgrim on the tiring road. But listen well, friends, when we are under arms, and there is good work to be done, on the march, or on the battlefield, or at the review, let your dress be regular, military, scrupulous. Be quick to listen, alert to obey, for I do not want any lazy people, nor any stragglers, and if there were any, I would make them feel the weight of my hand. Yes, I will even go so far as to suppress them. I tell you, there will be no pity for people of this sort. With these words he stopped, looked sternly over his troops , his eyelids lowered over his bright, moving eyes. “If,” he continued, “there is a man among you who is afraid of submitting to strict discipline, let him leave the ranks and seek a more lenient leader, for I tell you, as long as I command this corps, the Wiltshire Infantry Regiment, which has a Saxon leader, will be worthy of proving itself in this holy and soul-elevating cause.” The colonel fell silent and remained motionless on his mare. The peasants, formed in a long line, looked up, some with a heavy air, others with an air of admiration, some with an expression of fear before his severe, bony features and his threatening gaze . But no one moved. He continued: “The honorable Master Timewell, Mayor of this fine town of Taunton, which has been a tower of strength for the faithful during these long years full of trials for the spirit, is preparing to review us , when the other corps have assembled. So, captains, to your commands… There, musketeers! Form ranks, with three paces between each line. Reapers, take their places on the left; let the non-commissioned officers post themselves on the flanks and in the rear. Like that! That is well maneuvered for a first attempt, although a good adjutant with his cudgel, in the imperial manner, might still find a good deal of work here. While we were thus occupied in organizing a regiment in a rapid and serious manner, other corps of peasants, more or less disciplined, had gone to the Market Place and taken up positions there. Those on our right had come from Frome and Radstock, in the north of Somerset. They were a mere mob, armed with flails, mallets, and other such implements, and with no other rallying signs than green branches fixed in the ribbons of their hats. The body on our left carried a flag indicating that it was composed of men from the county of Dorset. They were fewer in number, but better equipped, for their entire front rank was like ours, armed with muskets. Meanwhile, the good burgesses of Taunton, their wives and daughters, had gathered on the balconies and at the windows overlooking the Market Place, from where they could watch the parade. These grave bourgeois, with their square-cut beards, in cloth garments, with their imposing halves of velvet and triple- pile taffeta, looked down from the height of their observatories, while here and there could be glimpsed under the Puritan headdress a pretty, shy face, very likely to confirm the renown of Taunton, a town as famous for the beauty of its women as for the prowess of its men. The sides of the square were occupied by the compact mass of the common people, old woolen weavers with white beards, matrons with surly faces, village women with their shawls draped over their heads, swarms of children, who in their shrill voices acclaimed King Monmouth and the Protestant succession. “Upon my word,” said Sir Gervas, backing his horse until he was in line with me, “our square-booted friends ought not to be in such a hurry to go to heaven, when they have so many angels among them on earth. By God! Are they not beautiful! And between them all they have not a fly, not a diamond, and yet what would not your faded belles of the Mall or the Piazza give for their innocence and freshness? ” “I pray you, in Heaven’s name, do not send them such smiles and bows,” I said. “Such courtesies are customary in London, but they would be misunderstood among these simple village girls in Somerset and their relations, hot-headed, hard-hitting people.” I had scarcely spoken these words when the double doors of the Town Hall opened, and the procession of city fathers appeared in the market-place. Two trumpeters in party doublets preceded them, sounding a fanfare on their instruments. Behind them came the aldermen and councillors, grave and venerable old men, draped in black silk robes with trains, their collars and edges formed of costly furs. After them advanced a small, ruddy, pot-bellied man, who held in his hand the rod, the insignia of his office. He was the town clerk. The procession of dignitaries ended with the tall and imposing person of Stephen Timewell, Mayor of Taunton. There was much in the exterior of this magistrate calculated to attract attention, for all the traits that characterized the Puritan party, to which he belonged, were personified and exaggerated in him.
He was of a very tall stature, extremely thin, with a tired air, heavy eyelids, which betrayed fasting and vigils. The bent shoulders, the head bent on the chest marked the effects of age, but his brilliant eyes, of a steely gray, the animation which was noted in the features of his lively face, proved to what height religious enthusiasm could rise above bodily weakness. A pointed beard, in disorder, fell halfway to his belt. His long hair, white as snow, escaped in flutters from under a velvet skullcap. This skullcap was tightly stretched on the skull so as to make the ears protrude in a forced position, on each side, a custom which earned his party the epithet of pricks the ear which was so often applied to it by its adversaries. His costume was of studied simplicity, of a dark color. It consisted of his black coat, dark velvet breeches, silk stockings, with velvet bows on the shoes in place of the buckles then in use. A large gold chain, which he wore around his neck, was the mark of his office. In front of him walked with measured steps the fat secretary of the city, in a red waistcoat, one hand on his hip, the other extended to brandish the rod which served as his insignia. He cast solemn glances to the right and to the left, bowing from time to time as if claiming the applause. This little man had attached to his belt an enormous saber which echoed as he walked with a clanging sound on the cobblestone pavement, and which from time to time came between his legs. Then the man would step over it with a brave air and resume his march without losing any of his dignity. Finding at last these interruptions too frequent, he lowered the hilt of his saber so as to raise its point, and he continued to walk with the air of a bantam cock whose tail had been reduced to a single feather. When the Mayor had passed in front and behind the different corps and had inspected them with a thoroughness and attention well calculated to prove that age had not blunted his military qualities, he made half-turn, evidently intending to speak to us. Immediately his secretary sprang before him, waving his arms, and shouting at the top of his lungs: “Silence, good people! Silence for the right honorable Mayor of Taunton! Silence for the worthy Master Stephen Timewell.” And in the midst of his gestures and shouts, he once again became entangled in his oversized weapon, and went to lie sprawling on all fours in the gutter. “Silence, even you, Master Tetheridge,” said the high magistrate sternly , “if your sword and tongue were clipped, it would be as advantageous for you as for us. Could I not say a few opportune words to these good people without you interrupting me with your discordant barking? ” The cumbersome personage shrank and slipped behind the group of councilors, while the Mayor slowly climbed the steps of the market cross. From there he spoke to us in a high, piercing voice, which grew louder with every word, so that it could be heard even in the farthest corners of the square. “Friends in the faith,” he said, “I thank the Lord that I have been spared in my old age to be present at this pious meeting. For we, the people of Taunton, have always kept alive among us the flame of the Covenant, sometimes perhaps obscured by the courtiers of circumstances, but always remaining lit in the hearts of our people. Yet there reigned around us a darkness worse than that of Egypt, while Popery and Prelaticism, Arminianism and Erastianism, raged and gave free rein without encountering any obstacle or repression. But what do I see now? Do I see the faithful withdrawing trembling into their hiding places, and pricking up their ears to hear the sound of the horseshoes of their oppressors? Do I see a generation obedient to the masters of the day, with lies on their lips, and the truth buried in their hearts? No, I see before me pious men, who come not only from this fair city, but from all the country around, and from the counties of Dorset, and Wilts, some even, I am told, from Hampshire, all ready, eager to work vigorously for the cause of the Lord. And when I see these faithful men, and when I think that every one of the large coins they have in their coffers is ready to support them, and when I know that those in the country who have survived persecutions are vying with each other in prayers for us, I hear an inner voice telling me that we will pull down the idols of Dagon and build in this England, our country, a temple of the true religion such that neither Popery, nor Prelaticism, nor idolatry, nor any other invention of the Evil One will ever prevail against it. A low murmur of approval, which nothing could contain, rose from the compact ranks of the insurgent infantry, at the same time as the weapons or muskets fell back on the pavement with a sonorous clatter. Saxon half turned his fierce face, raising his hand in a sign of impatience. The hoarse growl died away among our men, while our companions on the right and left, less disciplined, continued to wave their green branches and to ring their weapons. The people of Taunton remained motionless, resolute, silent, but their contracted features, their furrowed brows proved that the eloquence of their fellow citizen had stirred to its depths the fanatical spirit which distinguished them. “I have in my hand,” continued the Mayor, taking from his breast a rolled-up paper, “the proclamation with which our royal leader has preceded himself. In his great kindness, in his self-denial, he, in the first appeal dated from Lyme, made it known that he would leave the choice of a monarch to the Commons of England, but having learned that his enemies were making the most scandalous and vile use of this declaration, and were assuring that he had too little confidence in his own cause to surprise publicly the title that was due to him, he has decided to put an end to these evil words. Know therefore that by this present it is proclaimed that James, Duke of Monmouth, is henceforth the lawful King of England, that James Stuart, the papist and fratricide, is a villainous usurper, that five thousand guineas are promised to whoever delivers him up dead or alive, and that the assembly now sitting at Westminster and calling itself the Commons of England is an illegal assembly, that its acts are null and void before the law. God bless King Monmouth and the Protestant Religion! The trumpets sounded a fanfare, and the people applauded, but the Mayor, raising his thin, white hands to demand silence, continued: “A message arrived this morning from the King. He sends his greetings to his faithful Protestant subjects, and having halted at Axminster to rest after his victory, he will soon set out, and will be among you in two days at the latest. You will be grieved to learn that the good Alderman Rider has perished, struck down in the thick of the fray. He died a man and a Christian, leaving all his fortune in this world, as well as his cloth factory and his real estate, for the continuance of the war. Among the other dead, there are not more than ten who are from Taunton. Two valiant young fathers have been reaped, Ohoses and Ephraim Hollis, whose poor mother— … The next name on my list is Jesse Trefail, then come Joseph Millar and Aminadab Holt… A musketeer, a man of a certain age, being in the first line of the Taunton infantry, pulled his hat down over his eyes, and cried in a loud and firm voice: “The Lord gave him to me, the Lord took him away. Blessed be the name of the Lord ! ” “He is your only son, Master Holt,” said the Mayor, “but the Lord also sacrificed his only Son that you and I might drink of the waters of eternal life…” Then come Light Road Regan, James Fletcher, Salut Smith, and Robert Jolinstone. The old Puritan rolled up his papers with a grave expression, and after standing for a few moments with his hands folded on his breast in silent prayer, he descended from the market cross and walked away, followed by the aldermen and councilors. The crowd began to disperse in the same way, in a calm and orderly manner . The faces were solemn, serious, with downcast eyes. However, a large number of peasants, more curious or less devout than the townspeople, gathered around our regiment to see those who had beaten the dragoons. “Do you see the man with the head of a gyrfalcon?” cried one, pointing to Saxon. “It was he who yesterday brought down that Philistine officer and led the faithful to victory. ” “Do you notice that other one,” cried an old lady, “the one with the white face and who is dressed like a prince? He is a nobleman who has come from London to bear witness in favor of the Protestant faith.” He’s a very pious gentleman, oh, yes, and if he had stayed in the guilty city, they would have cut off his head, as they did to good Lord Russell, or chained him with worthy Mr. Baxter. “By the Virgin Mary, fellow,” cried another, “the tall man with the gray horse, there’s my soldier. He’s got cheeks as smooth as a damsel, and limbs like Goliath of Gath. I ‘ll wager you he’d be able to carry that old fellow Jones across his saddle as easily as Towser carries off a damsel. But here’s good Mr. Tetheridge, the secretary: he’s very busy, and a man who spares neither time nor trouble for the Great Cause. “Make way, good people, make way!” shouted the busy little secretary, with an authoritarian air . “Do not hinder the high-ranking employees of the corporation in the performance of their duties. Nor must you obstruct the approaches of the combatants, since by doing so you prevent them from deploying and extending in line, as several important leaders are currently requesting. I pray you, who is in command of this cohort, or rather this legion, seeing that you have the assistance of auxiliary cavalry? ” “It is a regiment, sir,” said Saxon gruffly, ” Colonel Saxon’s regiment, Wilts County Infantry, which I have the honor of commanding. ” “I beg your pardon, Colonel,” cried the secretary, looking anxious, moving away from the bronze-faced soldier. “I have heard of Colonel Saxon and his exploits in the German wars.” I myself carried the pike in my youth, and I broke a head or two, yes, and even a heart or two, in the days when I wore a doublet and bandolier. “Make your message known,” said the colonel shortly. “It is from His Excellency the Mayor. It is addressed to you yourself, and to your captains, who are doubtless those tall cavaliers whom I see at my side. Fine fellows, upon my word, but you and I, colonel, we know well that a little fencing can put the smallest among us on the same level as the sharpest. Yes, I warrant you, you and I who are soldiers, we could, if we were back to back, hold our own against these three gallants. ” “Speak, my boy,” snarled Saxon, stretching out a long, muscular arm and seizing the talkative secretary by the lapel of his coat, and shaking him so as to make his great saber clang once more. “What! Colonel! How?” cried Mr. Tetheridge, whose coat seemed to take on a darker tint by the contrast with the sudden pallor of his cheeks. “Would you lay an angry hand on the Mayor’s representative? I, too, wear my sword at my side, as you can see. Besides , I am rather quick, rather quick to anger, and I therefore warn you to do nothing that I might perchance regard as a personal offense. As for my message, it was to say that His Excellency the Mayor desired to have an interview with you and your captains at the Town Hall. ” “We will go there,” said Saxon. Then, addressing the regiment, he began to explain some of the simpler movements and drills, instructing his officers as well as his men, for if Sir Gervas knew a little of drill, Lockarby and I had little but good will to offer on the occasion. When the order to break was finally given, our companies returned to their quarters in the woolstore, while we delivered our horses to the stablehands of the White Hart and set out to pay our respects to the Mayor. Chapter 3. Master Stephen Timewell, Mayor of Taunton. Everything was in motion and excitement in the Town Hall. To one side, at a low table covered with green serge, sat two writers, with large rolls of paper before them. A long procession of townspeople filed past them. Each deposited a roll or bag of coins, which was duly registered by the receivers. A square box, reinforced with iron, stood beside them. The money was being thrown into it, and we noticed as we passed that it was half full of gold coins. We could not help noticing that among the donors there were many whose threadbare doublets and emaciated faces showed that the sums so willingly given by them were the fruit of deprivations they had imposed on themselves, even in their food. Many of them accompanied their offering with a short prayer, or the quotation of a well-chosen text, where it is spoken of the treasure that does not corrupt, or of the loan made to the Lord. The town clerk, standing near the table, delivered the receipts for each sum, and the incessant movement of his tongue filled the room, as he read the names and sums, interspersing his remarks: “Abraham Willis,” he cried as we entered, “write it down for twenty-six pounds ten shillings. You will receive ten percent on this land, Master Willis, and I guarantee you that afterward you will not be forgotten… John Standish, two pounds; William Simons, two guineas… Hold fast, Bealing, forty-five pounds. That’s a famous blow to the side of Prelaticism, brave Master Hoaling… Solomon Warren, five guineas; James White, five shillings, the widow’s mite, James!… Thomas Bakewell, five pounds. No, Master Bakewell, with three farms on the banks of the Tone and pastures in the most fertile spot in Athelney, you can be more liberal in the good cause. We shall see you again, no doubt. Alderman Smithson, ninety pounds! Aha! there is a slap in the face of the woman in scarlet. A few more like that, and her throne will be changed into a diving chair. We will demolish her, worthy Master Smithson, as Jehu, the son of Nimshi, demolished the house of Baal. And he chattered and chattered, giving succession to praise, advice, and reproach, though the grave and solemn burghers paid little attention to his idle chatter. At the other side of the hall were several long wooden troughs, used to house pikes and scythes. Special messengers, apparitors, had been sent out to scour the country and collect weapons. These, upon their return, had deposited their booty there under the supervision of the chief gunsmith. Besides the ordinary weapons of the peasants, one saw a barrel half full of pistols and petrinaux, not to mention a good number of muskets, bolt guns, Dutch guns, canardières, carbines, as well as a dozen blunderbusses with bronze barrels, with flared mouths, some rampart weapons of ancient style, such as sakers, culverins, coming from the manors of the county. Many other weapons had been taken from the ramparts, taken from the attics of these old houses, which no doubt our ancestors regarded as valuable objects, but which would seem very strange in this day and age, when one can fire a rifle every two minutes, and also send a bullet to a distance of four hundred paces. There were halberds, battle-axes, maces, spears, and ancient coats of mail, still capable of saving a man’s life from a sword or pike thrust. Master Timewell, the Mayor, stood in the midst of these goings and goings, putting everything in order, like a skillful and far-sighted leader . I easily understood the confidence and affection his fellow citizens felt for him, when I saw him at work, and displaying all the wisdom of age and all the spirit of youth. He was entirely absorbed in his work. At the moment of our arrival, he was trying the operation of a falconet, but on seeing us, he came forward and saluted us with great kindness. “I have heard much of you,” he said, “and how you held the faithful together, and thus defeated the usurper’s horsemen. This will not be the last time, I hope, that you have seen their backs. I have been informed, Colonel Saxon, that you have served much abroad. ” “I have been the humble instrument of Providence in many a good work,” said Saxon, bowing. “I fought with the Swedes against the Brandenburgers, and then with the Brandenburgers against the Swedes, my time having expired and my conditions satisfied with the latter. Then I fought with the Bavarians against the Swedes and the Brandenburgers united, not to mention the part I took in the great wars on the Danube against the Turk, and two campaigns in the Palatinate with the Gentlemen, which, however, may pass for a distraction rather than for war. “Real service for a soldier!” cried the Mayor, stroking his white beard. “I have also heard that you are powerful in prayer and song. You are, I see, Colonel, of the old race of sixteen hundred and forty, where the men spent all day in the saddle, and half the night on their knees. When will we see their likes again? There are only remnants such as myself left, the fire of our youth entirely extinguished, and offering nothing but lethargic ashes of lukewarmness. ” “No, no,” said Saxon, “the position and occupation in which you now find yourself are hardly in accord with the modesty of your language.” But here are some young men who will find the ardor, if their elders lend the aid of their brains. Here are Captain Micah Clarke, Captain Lockarby, and the Honorable Captain Sir Gervas Jerome, who have come from afar to draw their swords in favor of the trampled faith. “Taunton welcomes you, young gentlemen,” said the Mayor, looking a little askance, or so I imagined, at the baronet who had taken out his pocket mirror and was busy brushing his eyebrows. ” I hope that during your stay in this town, you will be willing to settle down with me. It is an unpretentious house, where the fare is simple, but a soldier has few wants. And now, Colonel, I should be happy to consult you about these drags, and to know if after being re-encircled, they can still be of use, as well as about these three half-guns, which were used in the old days of Parliament and will perhaps have their say in the cause of the people.” The old soldier and the Puritan immediately plunged into a deep and learned discussion on the merits of rampart guns, small cannons, half culverins, sacers, mignons, mortars, falcons, stone throwers, so many types of artillery on each of which Saxon had to express very clear opinions, supported by many adventures, many personal experiences. He then dwelt on the advantages of fire arrows, fire lances , in the attack or defense of strongholds. He ended with a long dissertation on forts, directis lareribus, on half-moon, straight, horizontal, obscular works, with so many mentions of the lines of the Imperial Majesty, at Gran, that it seemed that this speech would never end. We slipped away while he was discussing the effects of Austrian grenades on a brigade of Bavarian pikemen at the Battle of Obergranstock. “I’ll be damned if I’m willing to accept that fellow’s offer,” Sir Gervas said in a low voice. “I’ve heard of Puritan households. Much prayer, little Rhine wine, and on every side thefts of texts as hard and sharp as pebbles. You go to bed with the sun, and a sermon is waiting for you if you look kindly at the maid, or hum a chorus of a drinking song. ” “The house may be larger than my father’s,” I remarked, “but it cannot be more rigorous. ” “For that, I warrant,” cried Reuben. When we were going to a Moorish dance, when we were organizing a Saturday night game, like the kissing round or the priest who lost his habit, I saw Joe Ironside give us a look as he passed by that was enough to freeze the smile on our lips. I tell you he would have helped Colonel Pride kill the bears or cut down the corn. “Such a man would have committed fratricide by killing bears,” said Sir Gervas, “with all the respect I profess to your honorable father, friend Clarke. ” “Just as you would have if you had shot a papegai,” I replied. smiling. As for the Mayor’s offer, we cannot now refrain from going to his meal, and if it is found tiresome, it will be easy for you to find an excuse, and to extricate yourself honorably from it. But remember this, Sir Gervas, these interiors are very different from any you know. So curb your tongue: otherwise someone might be angry. If I go hem! or cough, it will mean that you had better be on your guard.
“Agreed, young Solomon,” he cried. “It is really good to have a pilot who knows these sacred waters as well as you do. As for me, I had no idea how close I was to the reefs. But our friends have finished the battle of Ober… I don’t know what, and they are advancing towards us. I hope, Mr. Mayor, that all the difficulties are solved? ” “They are,” replied the Puritan. I have been extremely edified by your colonel’s remarks, and I am certain that in serving under him you will profit greatly by his mature experience. “Very likely, sir , very likely!” said Sir Gervas in a carefree tone. “But,” resumed the Mayor, “it is nearly one o’clock, and our weak flesh is crying out for food and drink. I beg you to do me the favor of accompanying me to my humble abode, where we shall find the family repast already served. ” With these words, he preceded us out of the hall, and slowly descended Fore Street, the people parting to the right and left as he passed and respectfully uncovering their hats before him. Here and there, as he pointed out to us, measures had been taken to bar the road with strong chains, intended to break the momentum of the cavalry. In some places, at the corner of a house, a hole had been made in the masonry, and through it protruded the black muzzle of a carronade or a piece of rampart. These precautions were all the more necessary, as several bodies of cavalry, not counting the one we had repulsed, were spread in the surroundings, as was known, and that the city, no longer having its ramparts, was exposed to an incursion by a bold leader. The residence of the principal magistrate was a squat house, with a square stone facade, situated in a courtyard which opened on the East Street. The oak door, with a pointed transom, studded with large iron nails, had a dark and gloomy air, but the vestibule into which it opened was light and airy. It had a floor of highly polished cedar and was paneled to a great height, with a dark-tinted wood which gave off a pleasant odor, similar to that of violets. A wide staircase led from the other end of the vestibule. It was along this path that, as we entered, a young girl with a gentle face arrived, followed by an old lady laden with white linen. Seeing us, the old woman retreated back up the stairs, while the young woman descended the steps three at a time, put her arms around the old man’s neck, and kissed him tenderly , looking him straight in the face, as a mother looks at a child when she fears something disturbing. “We’re tired again, Grandpa, tired again,” she said, nodding her head and placing a small white hand on each shoulder. “Really, really, your courage is greater than your strength. ” “No, no, little one,” he said, affectionately running his hand through his opulent brown hair, “the worker must work until the hour of rest strikes.” Gentlemen, this is my little daughter Ruth, all that remains of my family, and the light of my old age. The whole grove has been cut down, and only the old oak and the young sapling remain . These riders, my little one, have come from afar to serve the cause, and they have done us the honor of accepting our hospitality. “You have come at the right time, gentlemen,” she replied, looking straight ahead with a kind smile, like that of a sister welcoming her brothers. The household is gathered around the table, and the meal is ready. “No more ready than we are,” cried the sturdy old bourgeois. ” Conduct our guests to their places, while I take off this official robe, my chain, and my fur collar, before breaking my fast.” Following our pretty guide, we entered a very large and very high room, the walls of which were covered with oak panels and each end was adorned with a tapestry. The floor was inlaid in the French manner and covered with a quantity of skins and rugs. At one end of the room stood a large marble fireplace, large enough to form a small room in itself, furnished, as in times past, with a support for the ironwork in the center, and provided with wide stone benches at the sides. Above the mantelpiece, rows of hooks had served, it seemed to me, to support weapons, for wealthy English merchants were accustomed to having at least enough of them at home to equip their apprentices and workmen. But they had been removed, and there remained no other indication of the troubled times than a heap of pikes and halberds piled up in a corner. In the middle of the room stretched a long, massive table, around which sat thirty or forty people, mostly men. They were all standing as we entered. At the far end of the table, a grave-faced individual was reeling off endless thanksgivings . It began with a formula of gratitude for the food, but drifted into stories of Church and State, and ended with a supplication for Israel, who had just taken up arms to fight the Lord’s battles. All this time we stood in a group near the door, bareheaded, and busied ourselves in observing the company, and we could do it more closely than politeness would have allowed us to do, if the people had not kept their eyes lowered, and if their thoughts had not been elsewhere. There were people of all ages, from old men to young boys barely over eighteen. All had the same austere and solemn expression on their features. All were dressed in the same way, in simple, dark suits. Except for the whiteness of their wide collars and sleeves, not a single cord of color enlivened the sad severity of their attire. Their black jackets and waistcoats were straight and close-fitting, and their Cordovan leather shoes, which, in the days of our youth, were usually the favorite place for some small ornament, were all, without exception, square-toed and fastened with dark-colored cords. Most wore simple baldrics of untanned leather, but the weapons themselves, as well as the large felt hats and black cloaks, were piled on the benches, or placed on the seats along the walls. They held their hands together, their heads bent, and listened to this untimely address, testifying from time to time, by a groan or an exclamation, to the emotion which the preacher’s words excited in them. The too long thanksgiving was at last ended. The company sat down and began without further delay or ceremony to attack the large pieces of meat steaming before them. Our young hostess led us to the end of the table, where a high carved chair, provided with a black cushion, indicated the place of the master of the house. Mrs. Timewell sat on the Mayor’s right, with Sir Gervas beside her and the place of honor, the left, being given to Saxon. On my left sat Lockarby, whose eyes I had seen fixed with visible and persistent admiration on the young Puritan woman from the first moment he saw her. The table not being very large, we were able to talk from one side to the other despite the clatter of dishes and platters, despite the bustle of the servants and the deep drone of voices. “They are the staff of my father’s house,” remarked our hostess, addressing Saxon. “There is no one here who is not in his service. He has a great many apprentices in the wool trade. There are forty of us here at every meal, every day of the year. ” “And a famous meal,” said Saxon, glancing over the table, ” salmon, ribs of beef, rumps of mutton, veal pies, what more can a man desire?” Home-brewed ale , poured out in abundance, to wash it all down. If worthy Master Timewell can find a way to supply the army in this way, I will be the first to be grateful. A cup of dirty water, and a piece of meat threaded on a rifle ramrod and charred rather than roasted over the campfire, will probably follow these sweets. “Is it not better to have faith?” said the young Puritan woman. ” Will not the Almighty feed his soldiers, just as Elisha was fed in his solitude and Hagar in the desert? ” “Yes,” said a curly-headed, swarthy youth who sat at Sir Gervas’s right hand, “he will provide for us, just as a stream springs up from the dry places, just as quail and manna fell in abundance on the barren ground.” “I hope so, young sir,” said Saxon, “but we must nevertheless organize a provisioning service, with an escort of numbered wagons, and a steward for each, in the German manner. These are things that must not be left to chance.” At this remark, the pretty Mrs. Timewell looked up with an almost frightened air, as if scandalized. Her thoughts would have taken the form of words, if at that very moment her father had not entered the room, where the whole company rose and bowed, while he went to his seat. “Sit down, my friends,” he said, with a gesture of his hand… “Colonel Saxon, we are simple people, and the ancient virtue of respect for our elders is not entirely extinguished among us. I hope, Ruth,” he continued, “that you have provided for the needs of our guests?” We protested with one voice that we had never been the object of so much attention and hospitality. “Well, well,” said the good wool weaver, “but your plates are clean and your glasses empty. William, see to that. A good worker always knows how to cut at the table. If one of my apprentices can’t make a clean plate, I know I won’t get much out of him when he handles the carding tool and the fulling thistle. Muscles and sinews are made from materials… A slice of this quarter of beef, William… Speaking of that battle of Obergranstock, Colonel, what part did that regiment of Pandous in which you had a commission play? On a question of that kind, you could imagine that Saxon had a lot to say.” The two men soon fell into a heated discussion in which the incidents of Roundway Dune and Marston’s gang were paralleled with the results of some twenty affairs with unpronounceable names, in the Styrian Alps and on the banks of the Danube. In his valiant youth, Master Timewell had commanded first a squadron, then a regiment, during the Parliamentary Wars, from the Battle of Chalgrove to the final struggle at Worcester, so that these military adventures, without having so much diversity and extent than those of his interlocutor, were sufficient to allow him to formulate and defend precise opinions. Basically, they were the same as those of the soldier of fortune, but when their ideas differed on some detail, a crossfire of military expressions immediately began. There was so much talk of booms, palisades, comparisons between light cavalry and heavy cavalry, between pikemen and musketeers, between lansquenets and lancers that the ear of the layman was stunned by this torrent of words. Finally, on the subject of a detail of fortification, the Mayor traced the plan of his advanced works with spoons and forks, while Saxon opened his parallels with lines of pieces of bread, quickly pushed them into traverses and covered ways, to establish himself on the re-entrant angle of the Mayor’s redoubt. From this arose a new discussion on the subject of countermines, which had the effect of giving the debate a redoubled ardor. While this friendly dispute was taking place between the elders, Sir Gervas Jerome and Mistress had begun to talk from one end of the table to the other. –My dear children, I have seldom seen a face so beautiful as that of this puritanical young lady. She was beautiful with that sort of modest and virginal beauty where the features owe their charm to the charm of the soul which illuminates them. The body, in its perfection of form, seemed to be only the expression of the accomplished spirit which inhabited it. Her dark brown hair fell back from her broad, white forehead, which was embellished by two strongly marked eyebrows, and large, blue, pensive eyes. The whole of her features had a character of sweetness which made one think of the turtledove. Nevertheless, there was a firmness in the mouth, a delicate protrusion in the chin, which indicated that in times of trouble and danger, the little lady would prove herself a worthy descendant of the Roundhead soldier and the Puritan magistrate. I am certain that under circumstances where matrons, with louder and more authoritative voices, would have been reduced to silence, the Mayor’s young daughter, with her sweet voice, would not have been long in losing her conciliatory accent and revealing the natural energy which she concealed. I was much amused to observe the trouble Sir Gervas took to converse with her, for the young lady and he belonged to worlds so profoundly different, that it required all his gallantry, all his wit, to maintain himself on a ground where his words would be intelligible to her. “No doubt, Mistress Ruth, you spend a great deal of your time in reading,” remarked Sir Gervas. “I wonder if you can do anything else , being so far from the City. ” “From the City?” she said, with a look of surprise. “Is not Taunton a city ?”
“Heaven forbid I should say otherwise,” replied Sir Gervas, “and especially in the presence of so many worthy burgesses who are said to be rather touchy in matters concerning the honor of their native city. It is not the less true, fair Mistress, that the city of London so far surpasses all other cities that it is called the City, as I have just done. ” “It is very large then,” she cried, with pretty astonishment. ” But they are building new houses in Taunton, outside the old walls, and on the other side of Shuttern, and even on the other side of the river. Perhaps it will be as large, in time.” “Even if the whole population of Taunton were added to London,” said Sir Gervas, “no one would notice the slightest increase. ” “But no, you are making fun of me,” cried the little provincial. ” It is against all reason.” “Your grandfather will confirm my words,” said Sir Gervas. “But for Returning to your reading, I would wager there is not a page of Scudéry and his Great Cyrus that you have not read. Doubtless you are very well acquainted with the sentimental things to be found in Cowley, in Waller, or Dryden? “Who are these people?” she asked. “In what church do they preach? ” “Upon my word!” cried the baronet, laughing, “honest John preaches in Will Unwin’s church, known to everyone as Will’s, and very often two o’clock in the morning strikes before his sermon is over. But why this question? Do you think that no one has the right to write on paper unless he wears a gown and has climbed into a pulpit? I imagined that all persons of your sex had read Dryden. Tell me, I pray you, what are your favorite books .” “There is The Tocsin Sounded to the Unconverted of Alleine,” she said. ” It is a work that stirs you, a work that has done much good. Have you not experienced abundant fruits from reading it? ” “I have not read the work you mean,” Sir Gervas confessed. “Not read?” she cried, raising her eyebrows. “Really, I thought everyone had read The Tocsin. Then, what do you think of The Combats of the Faithful? ” “I have not read it. ” “Or Baxter’s Sermons?” she asked. “I have not read them. ” “And The Cordial of the Spirit, by Bull? ” “I have not read it.” Mistress Ruth looked at him with wide eyes, full of sincere astonishment. “You may find that in speaking thus I lack education, but I cannot help being surprised. Where have you been?” What have you been doing all your life? Why, even the street children have read these books. “The truth is, works of this sort are seldom encountered on our road in London,” replied Sir Gervas. “A play by George Etheredge, rhymed scraps by Sir John Suckling are lighter things, though perhaps less nourishing for the mind. In London, one can keep abreast of what is happening in the literary world without having to do much reading, for besides the gossip in the coffee-houses and the news in hand that one meets on one’s way, there is the chatter of poets and wits in the assemblies, and then from time to time, perhaps an evening or two in the week, the theatre, with Vanbrugh or Farquhar. So one is not long away from the Muses.” Then, after the play, if one feels inclined to try one’s fortune at the green carpet at Groom Porter’s, one can go to the Cocotier if one is a Tory, or to St. James’s if one is a Whig. The odds are ten to one that the conversation will turn to the method of composing alcaiques, or the rivalry between blank and rhymed verse. Then, after a late supper, one can go to Will’s or Slaughter’s, where one will find old John, as well as Tickell, Congreve, and the rest of the company, hard at work on dramatic unities, or poetic justice, or other similar subjects. I confess that my tastes do not incline me in that direction, and that at that hour, I was wrong to devote my time to the bottle of wine, the dice-box, or else… –Hem! Hem! I said very loudly to put him on his guard, for several of the Puritans were listening, with expressions that expressed anything but approval. “What you say about London interests me greatly,” said the young Puritan woman, “though these names and places do not mean much to my ignorant ears. But you mentioned the theater. Surely no one goes near these dens of iniquity, these snares which the Evil One sets?” The good and sanctified Master Bull declared from the pulpit that these are the places where the brazen, the places preferred by the wicked Assyrians, and as dangerous to the soul as any of those Papist buildings with a steeple, where the creature is sacrilegiously confounded with the Creator. “Well said, and true indeed, Mistress Timewell,” cried the young and gaunt Puritan on the left, who had lent an attentive ear to the whole conversation. ” There are more evil things in those houses than in all the cities of the plain. I have no doubt the wrath of the Lord will one day fall upon them and utterly destroy them, as well as the dissolute men and the lost women who frequent them. ” “Your strong opinions are doubtless, my friend, founded on a complete knowledge of your subject,” said Sir Gervas calmly. “How often, tell me, have you entered those houses you decry?” “Thank the Lord, I have never been tempted to stray from the right path to the point of setting foot in one. I have not even entered that vast sewer called London. However, I hope, and with me other faithful ones, that we will one day arrive at marching in that direction, our swords at our sides, before this matter is over, and then, I guarantee you, we will not limit ourselves, as Cromwell did, to closing these haunts of vice, but we will not leave one stone upon another, we will sow salt on their site, so that they become for the people a proverb and an occasion for hissing. ” “You are right, John Derrick,” said the Mayor, who had caught the end of these remarks on the fly . However, I think that speaking less loudly and putting yourself forward would become you better when you converse with your master’s guests… About these same theaters, Colonel, this time, when we have the upper hand, we will not allow the old tares to choke the new wheat. We know what fruit those places produced in the time of Charles, the Gwynns, the Palmers, and all the vile band of impure, prostitute parasites. Have you ever been to London, Captain Clarke? “No, sir, I was born and bred in the country. ” “You are all the better for it,” said our host. “I have been there twice. The first was in the time of the Rump Parliament, when Lambert brought his division to terrify the Commons. I was then lodged at the Ensign of the Four Crosses in Southwark, then kept by a worthy man, one John Dolman, with whom I had more than one edifying conversation on the subject of predestination. All was quiet and well regulated then, I warrant you, and you could have walked from Westminster to the Tower, in the dead of night, and you would not have heard another sound but the murmur of prayers and the singing of hymns. As soon as it was dark, you did not meet in the streets a ruffian, not a scamp, nothing but well-behaved townspeople going about their business, or halberdiers of the guard. The second visit I made was about this business of the demolition of the walls. Then I and friend Foster, the glover, were sent at the head of a deputation from that city to Charles’s Privy Council. Who would have thought that so few years could have produced such a change? All the bad things that had been kicked underground had germinated and swarmed, so that at last this vermin overflowed into the streets, and the pious were forced to flee the light of day. Apollyon himself truly triumphed for a time. A peaceful man could not walk the streets without being pushed into the gutter by braggarts, braggarts, or accosted by painted females. Robbers and rogues, embroidered cloaks, clanging spurs, openwork boots , large feathers, quarrelsome people, pimps, swearing and blaspheming, I tell you that hell was getting richer. And even in the isolation of your carriage, you were not safe from the thief. “How so, sir?” asked Ruben. “Well, here’s how. As I was the one who suffered from it, I have a better right than anyone to tell the story. You will know that after having been received in a very cold manner—for we were as well regarded by the Privy Council as the household tax collector is by the village housewife—we were invited, more out of mockery, I suppose, than out of courtesy, to the evening reception at Buckingham Palace. We would have asked nothing better than to apologize, but we feared that our refusal would be regarded as a gratuitous offense, and that it would be detrimental to the success of our mission. My coarse cloth clothes were a little coarse for such an occasion, but I resolved to keep them for my appearance, adding a new bay waistcoat with a silk front, and a good wig, for which I paid three pounds ten shillings at the Haymarket. The young Puritan opposite rolled his eyes and muttered a few words like “sacrifice to Dagon,” which fortunately were not heard by the energetic old man. “That was only worldly vanity,” said the Mayor, “for with all possible deference, Sir Gervas Jerome, a man’s natural hair , when arranged with a little taste, with perhaps a pinch of powder, is, in my opinion, the most fitting ornament for his head. What is valuable is the content, not the container.” Having arranged this secondhand goods, good Master Foster and I hired a calash, and set out for the Palace. We were engaged in earnest, and, I hope, profitable, conversation, while we were traveling through the endless streets of the city, when suddenly I felt a violent pull on my head, and my hat was thrown onto my knees. I raised my hands: would you believe it, they touched my bare head . The wig was gone. We were going down Fleet Street at the moment , and there was no one in the calash but Friend Foster, who was as stunned as I was. We looked up , down, on the seats, and underneath: not the slightest trace of the wig. It had vanished without leaving a trace. “To what place, then?” we asked with one voice. “That was the question we sought to solve. I assure you, for a moment we thought it was a punishment for having paid so much attention to such carnal nonsense.” Then it occurred to me that it might well be the work of some mischievous imp, like Tedworth’s drummer, or those who made some disturbances not long ago at Gast’s house, at Little Burton in our county of Somerset. Believing this, we called the coachman, and told him what had happened. The man came down from his perch, and when he had heard our tale, he broke into the most foul language, went behind his calash, and showed us that a slit had been made in the leather of which the greatcoat was made. The thief had put his hand in there and forced my wig through the hole, by standing on the cross-bar of the coach. This was a common enough thing, he said, and wig thieves formed a numerous corporation. They kept watch in the vicinity of the wigmakers’ shops, and when they saw a customer leave with a worthwhile purchase, they followed him, and if by chance he left in a carriage, they used this method to rob him. Whether it was so or otherwise, I never saw my wig again, and I was obliged to buy another before venturing into the King’s presence. “This is truly a strange adventure,” cried Saxon. “But how did things turn out for you in the evening? ” “In a very pitiful way, for Charles’s face, which had the complexion rather gloomy at all times, grew even gloomier at our entrance, and his brother the Papist was hardly more obliging. We had only been brought there for the purpose of dazzling us with their tinsel, their rattles, and so that we would have fine things to tell the people of the West. There were courtiers with supple spines, noblemen with stiff gaits, courtesans with bare shoulders, and who, but for their high birth, would have been sent to Bridewell as well as any poor girl who has been paraded behind a cart. Then there were the gentlemen of the bedchamber, with their cinnamon or plum-colored coats, and a fine display of lace, gold, silk, and ostrich feathers. Friend Foster and I felt like two crows that had strayed among a flock of peacocks. But we had in mind Him in whose image we were created, and we behaved, I hope, as independent English citizens. His Grace the Duke of Buckingham allowed himself to mock us. Rochester spoke mockingly to us. The women simpered, but my friend and I presented our front , to discuss, as I well remember, the very precious doctrines of election and reprobation, without paying much attention to those who mocked us, nor to the people who played on our left, nor to the people who danced on our right. We held out thus all evening. Then, perceiving that these people would not be much amused at our expense, My Lord Clarendon, the Chancellor, signaled us to withdraw, which we did without hurry, after greeting the King and the company. “No, for that I would never have done it,” cried the young Puritan, who had listened attentively to his elder’s tale. “Would it not have been far more fitting to raise your hands and call down vengeance upon them, as the holy man of old did upon the criminal cities. ” “More fitting, you say?” replied the Mayor impatiently. “What is most fitting is for the youth to be silent, until the moment when their opinion is asked in matters of this kind. The wrath of God walks with feet of lead, but strikes with hands of iron. At the opportune moment he has chosen, he has judged when the cup of these men’s iniquities would be full to overflowing. It is not for us to instruct him. As the Sage said, curses have a habit of returning to their perch. Keep that in mind, Master Derrick, and do not be too liberal with it.” The young apprentice—for he was one—bowed his head sullenly at this reprimand. Then the Mayor, after a short silence, resumed his narrative: “As the night was fine,” he said, “we determined to walk back to our lodgings, but I shall never forget the scandalous scenes we saw on the way. Good Master Bunyan of Elstow might have added a few pages to his description of the Vanity Fair, had he been with us. Women with spots, dyed hair, and brazen foreheads; men with disorderly, boisterous, blasphemous bearings; and shouting, and pimping, and drunkenness. It was the kingdom that deserved to be governed by such a court.” At last we passed through quieter streets, and hoped to have finished with our adventures, when suddenly a troop of half-drunken horsemen came galloping out of a side street, who attacked the passers-by with their swords, as if we had fallen into an ambush of savages in some country of miscreants. They were, I supposed, of the same brood as those of whom the excellent John Milton wrote: Sons of Belial, swollen with insolence and wine. Alas! my memory is not what it used to be: for there was a time when I could have recited whole songs by heart of this noble and pious poem. “And how did you get out of your affair with these quarrelsome people, sir?” I asked. “They attacked us, and a few other honest townspeople who were returning home. Brandishing their swords, they ordered us to lay down our arms and pay homage to them. “To whom?” I asked. They pointed to one of them who was dressed in a more flashy costume and was a little drunker than the others. “This is our most sovereign healer.” “Sovereign of what?” I asked. “Sovereign of the Tityre tu,” they replied. “Oh! very barbarous and cuckolded bourgeois, do you not perceive that you have fallen into the hands of this most noble order? ” “This is not your true monarch,” I said, “for this one is chained in the abyss below us, and it is there that one day he will gather around him his faithful subjects.” “Do you hear, he spoke traitorously,” they cried. Whereupon, without further preamble, they charged us, sword and dagger in hand. Friend Foster and I, leaning against a wall, and with our cloaks rolled around our left arms, played with our weapons, and did so well that we hit one or two of those spearmen in the old Wigan lane. Friend Foster, in particular, pricked the King so that His Majesty ran into the street howling like a little bulldog being bled. But we were overwhelmed by numbers, and our mission might have been ended at that moment and place, if the guard had not entered the scene, knocked our weapons down with a blow from their halberds, and thus stopped the whole troop. While this skirmish was going on, the burghers of the neighboring houses poured water over us, like alley cats, and if this did not dampen our fighting spirit, it put us in a bad and unpresentable state. We were thus dragged to the guardhouse, and there we spent the night in the company of bawlers, thieves, and orange-sellers, but I am proud to say that my friend Foster and I spoke a few words of joy and comfort to these. We were released in the morning, and immediately shaking the dust of London from our shoes, we left. And I hope never to return there, unless it be at the head of our regiments of the Earl of Somerset, to see King Monmouth place on his head the crown, which he will have wrested, in a fair fight, from the Papist corrupter. When Master Stephen Timewell had finished his story, there was a general uproar, and people rose on all sides, which signaled the end of the meal. The company filed out in slow procession in order of seniority. All had the same somber and serious expression, grave gait, and downcast eyes. These puritanical ways were, it is true, familiar to me from my childhood, but until then I had not seen them practiced by a large household, and I had not noticed their effect on so many young people. “You will remain a few moments longer,” said the Mayor, as we were about to follow them. “William, bring a flagon of old Rhine wine with a green seal. These carnal comforts I do not offer in the presence of my young people, for what suits them best is beef and wholesome beer. On occasion, however, I share Paul’s opinion that a flagon of wine among friends is not a bad thing for the mind and body.” You can go now, my dear, if you have something to do. “Are you going out again?” asked Ruth. “Soon. I have to go to the Town Hall. The review of arms is not over. ” “I will have your costume ready, as well as the rooms for our guests,” she replied. After which, giving us a pretty smile, she left at her usual pace. light. “I wish I could rule the city as this little girl rules this house,” said the Mayor. “There is not a necessary thing that she does not provide, even before the need is felt. She reads my thoughts and conforms her actions to them before my lips have had time to express them. If I still have some strength left to devote to public service, it is because my private life is full of restful peace. Have no fear about the Rhine wine: it comes from Brooke and Hellier, of Abchurch Lane, and deserves every confidence. ” “Which proves that at least one good thing comes from London,” remarked Sir Gervas. “Yes, that is true,” said the old man, smiling. ” But what do you think of my young people, sir? They must be of a very different class from the one you know, if, as I am told, you have frequented the world of the court.” “Why, yes, they are very brave young men, no doubt,” replied Sir Gervas lightly. “I think, however, that they lack a little sap. What they have in their veins is not blood , but soured whey. ” “No, no,” replied the Mayor warmly. “On that point, you do them no justice. Their passions, their feelings, are subject to control. That is how a good rider holds his horse in hand. But they exist just as much as in the animal there is speed and endurance. Have you noticed the pious young man who sat on your right, and whom I have often had cause to reprimand for his excess of zeal? He is a good example to cite to show how a man can keep his feelings under control, and keep them under rule. ” “And how did he do it?” I asked. “Well, between friends,” said the Mayor, “it was only at the last Annunciation that he asked for the hand of my little daughter Ruth. His time is almost up, and her father, Sam Derrick, is an estimable workman, so that the match would be well matched enough. The young lady took a dislike to him—young girls have their whims too—and nothing more was said. And yet he lives under the same roof, he elbows her from morning till night, without ever showing anything of this passion, which could not have died out so quickly. Twice my woolen store was destroyed to the ground by fire, and twice he put himself at the head of those who fought against the flames. Very few people, after having their proposal rejected, would have been capable of showing such resignation and patience. ” “I am quite willing to acknowledge the justice of your assessment,” said Sir Gervas Jerome. I have learned not to take hasty antipathies at face value, and I have in mind this couplet of John Dryden: Errors, like straws, float on the surface, Whoever seeks pearls, must dive into the depths. –Or, said Saxon, the worthy Doctor Samuel Butler, who says, in his immortal poem of Hudibras: The fool sees only the skin; The wise man strives to look within. –I wonder, Colonel Saxon, said our host sternly, to hear you speak with praise of this licentious poem. From what I have heard, it was composed for the express purpose of throwing pious people into ridicule. I could not have been more surprised to hear you praise the criminal and foolish work of Hobbes, which supports this mischievous thesis: A Deo Rex, a Rege lex: From God comes the King, from the King comes the law. “It is true that I despise and disdain the use Butler has made of his satire,” said Saxon adroitly. “Yet I can admire the satire itself, just as I can admire a damascened blade, without approving of the quarrel for which it is drawn. ” “These distinctions, I fear, are too subtle for my old brains, said the energetic old Puritan. This England, our fatherland, is divided into two camps, that of God, and that of the Antichrist. Whoever is not with us is against us, and none who serve under the banner of the devil will have anything from me, except my contempt and the sharp edge of my sword. “Well, well,” said Saxon, filling his glass, “I am not a Laodicean, nor a worshipper of success. The cause will not find fault with my tongue or my sword. ” “Of that, I am well convinced, my worthy friend,” replied the Mayor, ” and if I have spoken in too harsh terms, you will excuse me. But I regret to have to announce bad news to you.” I have not made them known to the common body, for fear of discouraging them, but I know that adversity will simply be the stone on which your ardor will be sharpened and take on a finer edge. Argyle’s rising has failed. He and his companions have fallen into the hands of the man who never knew what forgiveness is. At these words, we all jumped in our chairs, exchanging startled glances, with the exception of Sir Gervas Jerome, whose natural serenity was proof against all disturbance. You will doubtless remember, my children, when I began to relate these incidents of my life, I said that the hopes of the Monmouth party rested largely on the invasion of the Scottish exiles into the county of Ayr. It was hoped to create disturbances there, such as would divert a good part of King James’s forces, which would make our march on London less difficult. This was all the more surely counted on, since Argyle’s domains were situated in that part of Scotland, where he could raise five thousand men armed with sabers from among his own clansmen. Besides, there were, in the western counties, a very large number of fierce zealots, quite ready to support the cause of the Covenant, and who had proved, in many skirmishes, their brilliant warlike qualities . It seemed certain that with the help of the Highlanders and the Covenanters, Argyle would be able to resist, all the more so since he had brought with him to Scotland the English Puritan Rumbold, and a large number of other skilled warriors. The unexpected news of his complete defeat was therefore a terrible blow, for it resulted in us having to deal with the whole forces of the Government. “Do you have this news from a reliable source?” asked Decimus Saxon, after a long silence. “It is a certainty that admits of no doubt,” replied Master Stephen Timewell. However, I can well understand your surprise, for the Duke was surrounded by trustworthy advisers. There was Sir Patrick Hume of Polwarth. “All talk, no action,” said Saxon. “And Richard Rumbold. ” “All action, no words,” said our companion. “I think he should have made himself better known. ” “Then there was Major Elphinstone. ” “A fool and a braggart. ” “And Sir John Cochrane. ” “A captious, long-tongued, short-witted straggler,” said the soldier of fortune. “Commanded by such men, the expedition was doomed from the start. Yet I fancy that at least, and assuming they did nothing more, they might have thrown themselves into the mountainous region, where these bare-legged caterans might have maintained themselves amid the clouds and mists of their native land. All taken, you say? It is a lesson, a warning for us.” I tell you, if Monmouth does not infuse more energy into his counsels, if he hesitates to push straight to the heart, if he makes passes, feints of fencing at the extremities, we will find ourselves in the situation of Argyle and Rumbold. What do these two days wasted mean at Axminster, at a time when every hour has its price? Will it be necessary every time he rubs up against a body of militia and throws it aside , to rest for forty-eight hours, to sing Te Deum while Churchill and Feversham are on their way, I know, to the West with all the men they can pick up, and the Dutch Grenadiers are swarming like rats in a grain store? “You are quite right, Colonel Saxon,” replied the Mayor, “and I hope that when the King arrives here, we shall succeed in inspiring him to more rapid action. He has great need of more knowledgeable advisers in war, for since Fletcher’s departure, he has hardly any men around him who have learned the profession of arms. ” “Well,” said Saxon, gruffly, “now that Argyle is gone, we are face to face with King James, with nothing to rely on but our good swords. ” “On them and on the justice of our cause.” How do you like this news, young gentlemen? Has it made the wine lose all its bouquet? Are you inclined to desert the Lord’s standard? “For my part,” I said, “I intend to see the matter through to the end. ” “And I,” said Ruben Lockarby, “will follow Micah Clarke wherever he goes. ” “As for me,” said Sir Gervas, “the matter is perfectly indifferent to me, as long as I am in good company and there is something to give strong emotions. ” “In that case,” said the Mayor, “the best thing to do is for each to fulfill his proper role, and for us to be ready for the King’s arrival. Until then, I hope you will do me the honor of accepting my humble roof. ” “I fear,” said Saxon, “that I cannot accept this kind offer. When I am in arms, I rise early and go to bed late.” I shall therefore establish my headquarters at the inn, which is not very well supplied in terms of provisions, but which can afford me the simple food to which my needs are limited, with my quart of October black ale, and my Trinidad pipe. Saxon holding firm in his decision, the Mayor ceased to press him , but my two friends hastened to join me in accepting the offer of the worthy wool merchant, and we settled down for the duration of our stay under his hospitable roof. Chapter 4. A Nightly Mêlée. If Decimus Saxon refused to take advantage of the offer of lodging and board made to him by Master Timewell, it was, as I learned later, for this reason that the Mayor being a firm Presbyterian, he thought it inexpedient to allow too great an intimacy to be established between them , which would harm him with the Independents and other zealots. To tell the truth, my dear children, this cunning man began, from that day on, to regulate his life and his actions in such a way as to conciliate the friendship of the Sectarians, and to be considered by them as their leader. Indeed, he was firmly convinced that in violent movements like the one in which we were engaged, the most extreme party is sure to finally have the upper hand. “Fanaticism,” he told me one day, “means fervor, and fervor means that one will be hard at work, and hard at work means power. ” Such was the pivot of all his intrigues, of all his projects. In the first place, he applied himself to proving that he was an excellent soldier. He spared neither time nor trouble to achieve this. From morning until noon, in the afternoon until night, we drilled and drilled again, so that at last the shouting of commands and the clash of arms became tiresome in their monotony. The good burghers could well imagine that the Wiltshire Infantry under Colonel Saxon was as much a part of the Market Square as the town cross or the parish coat of arms. A great deal had to be done in a short time, and even so much that more than one would have declared the attempt useless. It was not only the regiment’s overall maneuver; it was also necessary for each of us to accustom his company to the exercise that was proper to it. We had to learn as best we could the names and needs of the men.
But our task was made easier by the certainty that it was not time wasted, for at each gathering our clumsy fellows stood more upright and handled their weapons with more dexterity. From cockcrow until sunset, one heard in the streets no other cries than: Bear arms, prepare arms, lay down your weapons, prepare your primers and all the other commands of the old platoon drill. As we became better soldiers, our numbers increased, for our coquettish appearance attracted the elite of the newcomers into our ranks. My company grew to the point that it had to be doubled. The same happened to the others in the same proportion. The Baronet’s musketeers reached a good hundred, most of whom knew how to use muskets. In all, we increased from three hundred to four hundred and fifty, and our maneuvering improved to the point of earning us praise from all sides on the condition of our men. Late in the evening, I was riding slowly back to Master Timewell’s house, when Reuben came up with a loud noise behind me and begged me to return with him to witness a spectacle that was worth seeing. Although I was not much inclined to such pleasures, I turned Covenant around, and we went down the whole length of the High Street, into the suburb called Shuttern. My companion stopped there before a bare building, which looked like a barn, and told me to look inside through the window. The interior consisted of a single large room. It was the storeroom, then empty, in which the wool was usually put. It was lit from one end to the other by lamps and candles. A large number of men, among whom I recognized people from my company, or from that of my comrade, were lying on both sides, some occupied in smoking, others in praying, others in polishing their weapons. In the center, along the whole length, benches had been arranged end to end, and on these benches sat mounted all the hundred musketeers of the baronet. Each of them was busy braiding the hair of the man sitting in front of him into a tail. A young boy was going back and forth, a pot of grease in his hand, and with this ingredient and some whipping twine, the work went smoothly. Sir Gervas himself, with a large box full of flour, sat perched on a bale of wool at the end of the row, and as soon as a tail was finished, he examined it through his monocle, and if it appeared to him to be properly made, he sprinkled it with a precious gesture, drawing from his box, and operated with as much care and seriousness as if it had been a church ceremony. Never had a cook, seasoning a dish, distributed his spices with such exactness and judgment as our friend used in flouring the heads of his company. In the midst of his work, he looked up, and saw one or two smiling faces at the window, but his occupation absorbed him too much to allow himself to interrupt it, and we finally rode away without speaking to him. At that moment the town was very quiet and still, for the people of that region were accustomed to going to bed early, unless some occasion kept them on their feet. We rode, at the slow pace of our horses, through the silent streets. The shoes of our mounts echoed with a clear sound on the pebbled pavement, and we held those light conversations which are customary between young people. Above us, the moon shone brightly, casting a silvery light over the broad streets, and drawing in a network of shadows the points and steeples of the churches. Arriving in Master Timewell’s yard, I dismounted, but Reuben, charmed by the calm and beauty of the scene, continued his ride , intending to push on to the city gate. I was still busy undoing the buckles of the girth, and taking off my harness, when suddenly there came from one of the neighboring streets, a loud shout, a sound of struggling, of clashing swords, together with the voice of my comrade calling for help. I drew my sword and ran out. At a short distance from there was a fairly large space, all white with moonlight, and in the center I perceived the squat figure of my friend. He was leaping with an agility I had never believed him capable of, and exchanging thrusts with his spear with three or four men who were pressing him closely. On the ground lay a dark figure. From the group of combatants, Reuben’s mare was rearing up and stooping as if she understood the danger her master was in. As I ran up, shouting, sword raised, the assailants fled down a side street, except for one of them, a tall, muscular man who had a sword. He rushed at Reuben, striking him furiously with his spear, cursing, and calling him a troublemaker. I felt a sensation of horror when I saw the blade pass through the parry of my friend, who raised his arms and fell face first, while the other, after having launched a last blow, fled through one of the narrow and winding alleys which led from the Rue de l’Est to the bank of the Tone. “In the name of Heaven, where are you hit?” I cried, throwing myself on my knees beside the prone body. “Where are you wounded, Reuben? ” “Especially in the bellows,” he said, blowing like a forge bellows, “and also behind the head. Give me your hand, I pray you. ” “Really, you are not hit?” I cried, my heart relieved of a great weight, helping him to get up. “I thought that scoundrel had pierced you.” “You might as well try to pierce a Warsash crab with a hairpin ,” he said. Thanks to good Sir Jacob Clancing, formerly of Snellaby Hall, and now of Salisbury Plain, their rapiers produced no other effect than to scratch my impenetrable breastplate. But where is the young lady? “What young lady? ” “Yes, it was to save her that I drew my sword. She was assailed by night-prowlers. See, she is getting up. They had thrown her to the ground when I fell upon them. ” “How do you feel, madam?” I asked, for the person lying on the ground had risen and taken the aspect of a woman, young and graceful, to all appearances, but whose face was wrapped in a mantle. I hope you have not suffered any harm?” “None, sir,” she replied in a low, gentle voice, “but if I have escaped, I owe it to the valour and eagerness of your friend, as well as to the foresight of Him who confounds the plots of the wicked. Doubtless any man worthy of the name would have rendered this service to a young person in distress, whoever she might be , and yet, perhaps, what will contribute to your satisfaction will be to learn that your protégée is not unknown to you. ” And as she spoke, she dropped her cloak and turned her face towards us in the moonlight. “Good heavens! It is Mrs. Timewell,” I cried, quite stunned. ” Let us go home,” she said in a firm, rapid voice. “The neighbours have taken the alarm, and there will soon be a gathering of the populace. Let us escape comments. ” Indeed, the noise of windows could already be heard on all sides, and people asking at the top of their voices what misfortune it was. Far away, at the end of the street, we could see the glow of lanterns swinging and announcing the patrol that was fast approaching . We slipped away, however, under cover of the shadows, and were soon safe in the Mayor’s courtyard, without being questioned or arrested. “I hope, sir, that you were not injured, indeed?” said the young lady to my companion. Since she had uncovered his face, Ruben had not said a word. He had all the air of a man who is lulled by a pleasant dream and is only sorry to be awakened from it. “No, I am not injured,” he replied, “but I would like you to tell us who these wandering swordsmen are and where they can be found. ” “No, no,” she said, raising her finger, “you will not pursue the matter further. As for these men, I cannot say with certainty who they could be.” I was out to visit Lady Clatworthy, who has tertian fever, and they assailed me as I was returning. Perhaps they are people who do not share my grandfather’s opinions on matters of state, and it is he they have aimed at over me. But you have both been so good to me that you will not refuse me another favor I have to ask of you. We protested that it was impossible for us, laying hands on the hilts of our swords. “No, keep them for the cause of God,” she said, smiling at our gesture. “All I ask is that you say nothing of this matter to my grandfather, for the slightest thing is enough to set him on fire , despite his great age. I would not have his attention diverted from public affairs by a personal detail like this. Do I have your word? ” “Mine!” I said, bowing. “Mine too!” said Lockarby. “Thank you, my good friends! Ah! I dropped my glove in the street. But that doesn’t matter. I thank God that no harm has befallen anyone. Thank you once again, and may pleasant dreams await you. She climbed the steps nimbly and was gone in an instant. Reuben and I took off our horses’ harnesses and watched in silence as they were cared for. We then entered the house to return to our rooms, still without a word. When we reached the threshold of his door, Reuben stopped. “I’ve heard the long-bodied man’s voice before, Micah,” he said. “And so have I,” I replied. “The old man would do well to beware of his apprentices. I almost want to go out and get the girl’s glove.” A joyful twinkle of eyes shone in the cloud that had obscured Reuben’s face. He opened his left hand and showed me the deerskin glove crumpled between his fingers. “I wouldn’t trade it for all the gold in his grandfather’s coffers,” he said with a sudden burst of ardor. Then, laughing at once and blushing, he hastened back and left me to my thoughts. It was thus that I first learned, my dear children, that my good comrade had been pierced by the arrows of the little god. When a man is only twenty years old, love springs up in him, like the pumpkin spoken of in Scripture, which grew in a single night. I would have told you my story badly, if I had not made you understand that my friend was a frank young man, with a warm heart, all of first impulse, in whom reason was rarely on duty in the presence of his inclinations. A man of this sort is as little capable of departing from an attractive young girl as the needle is of fleeing the magnet. He loves, just as the lark sings, just as a kitten plays. Now, a slow-witted, heavy-minded boy like me, and in whose veins the blood had always flowed with some coldness, some reserve, can enter into love as a horse enters a course of water to the sloping banks, step by step, but a man like Reuben strikes his heel one moment on the edge, and the next he has plunged up to his ears into the deepest place. Heaven only knows what fuse had set the tow alight. All I can say is that from that day on, my comrade was melancholy and gloomy one hour, then gay and full of life the next.
He had none of his constant flow of good humor, he became as pitiful as a molting chick, a thing which has always seemed to me one of the most singular results of what the poets have called the merry state of love. But, it must be said, in this world, joy and pleasure touch so closely, that one would say they were tied up in adjoining stalls, and a kick would suffice to knock down the partition between them. Here is a man as full of sighs as a grenade is full of powder. He cuts a sorry figure; he looks dejected. His mind wanders, and if you point out to him that he is very unhappy in this state, he will reply, you may be certain, that he would not exchange it for the Powers or the Principalities of Heaven. For him, tears are gold, and laughter is only counterfeit money. But, my dear children, it is a waste of time for me to explain to you something that I myself do not understand. If, as I have heard, it is impossible to find two thumbprints that are identical, how can we hope to make the most intimate thoughts and feelings of two beings coincide? However, there is one thing that I can affirm as true, and that is that when I asked for your grandmother’s hand, I did not stoop to assuming the air of a man who is conducting a funeral. She will bear me this testimony that I went to her with a smiling face , although I still had a little palpitation in my heart, and I said to her… But devil, where have I let myself be carried away? What does all this have to do with the town of Taunton, and the revolt of 1685? On Wednesday evening, June 17, we learned that the King, as Monmouth was called throughout the West, was encamped less than ten miles away, with all these forces, and that the next morning he would make his entry into the faithful town of Taunton. Every effort was made, as you can well imagine, to welcome him in a manner worthy of the town in England most attached to the Whigs and Protestantism. An arch of evergreens had already been erected at the west gate. It bore this motto: Welcome to King Monmouth! A second rose from the entrance to the Market Square to the highest window of the Blanc Cerf hostelry, with these words in large scarlet letters: Salut au Chef Protestant. A third, if I remember correctly, surmounted the entrance to the castle courtyard, but I no longer remember the motto that was read there. The cloth and wool industry is, as I have told you, the principal occupation of the town. The merchants had not spared their wares. They had displayed them in profusion to beautify the streets. Rich tapestries, lustrous velvets, precious brocades fluttered from the windows or decorated the balconies. The Rue de l’Est, the Grande Rue, the Rue d’Avant, were hung from the attics to the ground with rare and beautiful fabrics. Gay standards were suspended from the roofs on both sides, or fluttered in long garlands from one house to another. The royal banner of England was unfurled from the lofty steeple of St. Mary Magdalene, and the flag of Monmouth flew from the like steeple of St. James. Until late at night, the plane, the hammer, They worked, they invented, so well that on Thursday, June 18, when the sun rose, it lit up the most beautiful display of colors and verdure that had ever adorned a town. A sort of magic had changed the town of Taunton into a flowery garden. Master Stephen Timewell had been busy with these preparations, but he had said to himself at the same time that the most pleasant sign of welcome he could offer to the eyes of Monmouth would be the sight of the large body of armed men who were ready to follow his fortune. There were sixteen hundred of them in the town. Two hundred of them formed the cavalry. Most of them were well armed and equipped. They were drawn up so that the King would pass before them at his entrance. The townspeople lined the Market Square, three ranks deep, from the Castle Gate to the entrance of the High Street. From thence to Shuttern, the peasants of Dorset and Frome were placed on both sides of the street. Our regiment was posted at the West Gate. With well-polished arms, well-aligned ranks, and green branches on every cap, no leader could refrain from wishing to see his army thus increased. When all were in their places, and the burgesses and their wives were adorned in their feast-day finery, with rejoicing faces, and baskets full of flowers, everything was ready for the reception of the royal visitor. “Here are my orders,” said Saxon, advancing towards us on his horse, as we took our places near our companions. “I and my captains will join the King’s escort when he passes, and thus accompany him to the Market-place. Your men will present arms and remain in their places until our return.” The three of us drew our sabers and saluted. “If you will come with me, gentlemen, and take up positions to the right of this gate,” he said, “I can say a few words to you about these people when they march past. Thirty years of war, in many climates, have given me the right to speak as a master craftsman instructing his apprentices.” We eagerly followed his invitation. We passed through the gate, which was now reduced to a wide gap among the piles of rubble marking the site of the old walls. “They can’t be seen yet,” I remarked, as we climbed to a convenient height. “I suppose they must be coming by this road whose windings follow the valley in front of you. ” “There are two kinds of bad generals,” said Saxon, “the man who goes too fast and the one who goes too slowly.” His Majesty’s advisers will never be accused of the first of these faults, whatever errors they may make. Old Field Marshal Grunberg, with whom I campaigned for thirty-six months in Bohemia, had a principle of flying across the country, pell-mell, cavalry, infantry, artillery, as if he had the devil on his tail. He could have made fifty mistakes, but the enemy never had time to take advantage of them. I remember a raid we made in Silesia. After two days of marching in the mountains, his chief of staff told him that the artillery was unable to keep up. “Let them be left behind!” he replied. So the guns were abandoned, and by the next evening, the infantry was exhausted. “They can’t go another mile,” said the chief. “Let them be left behind,” said Grunberg. So we set off with the cavalry. Unfortunately for me, I was in his pandour regiment, and after a skirmish or two, both due to the state of the roads and the enemy’s actions, our horses were dead and inert. “The horses are exhausted,” said the captain-in-chief. “Leave them behind!” he shouted. ” And I bet he would have pushed on to Prague with his staff, if he had been allowed to do so. After that, we gave him the nickname General Laisse-en-Rear. “A brilliant commander, oh yes,” cried Sir Gervas, “I should have liked to serve under him. ” “Yes, and he had a way of training these recruits that would hardly have been to the liking of our good friends here in the West,” said Saxon. “I remember that after Salzburg, when we had taken the castle or fortress of that name, we were reinforced with about four thousand untrained infantry. As they approached our lines, waving his hands and blowing his bugle, old Field Marshal Laisse-en-Rear discharged all the cannon on the walls upon them, which killed sixty men and threw the rest into great panic. “These rascals must learn sooner or later to stand firm under fire,” he said. “They can begin their training at once.” “He was a tough schoolmaster,” I remarked. “He could have left some of that instruction to the enemy. ” “And yet the soldier loved him,” said Saxon. “He was not the man, when a town had been taken by assault, to look too closely when a woman bawled, nor to listen to all the burghers who had happened to find their chest a trifle lighter. But let us speak of leaders who move slowly. I have not known any who could be compared to Brigadier Baumgarten, who was also in the imperial army. He would, for example, raise his winter quarters to come and establish himself in front of a stronghold. He would raise a breastwork here, there he would dig a sap, so that his soldiers would end up feeling sick just looking at the place. He would play with it like a cat with a mouse, until the moment when it was about to open its gates, but then he might well take the fancy to lift the siege and go into winter quarters. I have made two campaigns under him, without honor, without sacking, without pillaging, without profit, except a miserable pay of three florins a day, paid in clipped coin, six months late… But do you see the people on that steeple! They are waving their handkerchiefs as if they saw something. “I can’t see anything,” I answered, shading my eyes and looking down the tree-strewn valley that sloped gently up to the pasture-covered hills of Blackdown. “The people on the forts are waving handkerchiefs and gesturing. I think I see the flash of steel among the woods far away. ” “It is here,” said Saxon, stretching out his gauntleted hand on the west bank of the Tone, close by the wooden bridge. “Follow my finger, Clarke, and see if you can discern it.” “Yes, it’s true,” I cried, “I see a brilliant reflection coming and going. And here, to the left, where the road curves over the height, do you see that compact mass of men! Ha! the head of the column is beginning to emerge from among the trees. There was not a cloud in the sky, but the great heat produced a mist which spread over the valley. It became very thick along the winding course of the river, and floated in small, tattered flakes above the wooded region which borders its banks. Through this thin layer of vapor penetrated from time to time a flash of bright light, when the rays of the sun fell on a breastplate or a helmet. At intervals, the gentle summer breeze brought to our ears sudden bursts of military music, in which mingled the shrill sound of trumpets and the dull rumble of drums. Then our eyes caught sight of the vanguard of the army, which began to unfold, emerging from the shadows of the trees and appearing black on the white, dusty road. The long line continued to stretch out, twisting in on itself as that it came out of the woods, like a black serpent with polished scales. Finally, the entire rebel army—cavalry, infantry, artillery—was visible to us. The gleam of arms, the fluttering of numerous flags, the plumes of the leaders, the thick columns of marching men, all this formed a picture that stirred the citizens of Taunton to the depths of their hearts. They, from the rooftops, from the crumbling eminences formed by the dismantled walls, could contemplate the champions of their faith. If the mere sight of a regiment passing is capable of exciting a shiver in your breast, you will easily imagine what happens when the soldiers you are watching have taken up arms in earnest in order to defend your dearest, most beloved interests, and have just emerged victorious from a bloody struggle. If the hand of all the other men was raised against us, at least these were on our side, and our hearts went out to them as to friends and brothers. Of all the ties that unite men in this world, there is none stronger than a common danger. To my inexperienced eyes, it all appeared very warlike, very imposing, and as I contemplated this long parade, I told myself that our cause was in some way won. But to my great surprise, Saxon was posting, half-voicedly shouting disdainful “peu!” At last, no longer able to control his impatience, he burst into burning words of discontent. “Just look at that vanguard as it descends the slope,” he cried. “Where is the group of scouts, of vorreiter, as the Germans say? And where is the space that should be left between the vanguard and the main body?” By Scanderbeg’s sword, they remind me rather of a flock of pilgrims, such as I have seen, when they approach the sanctuary of Saint Sebald, at Nuremberg, with their banners and their waves of ribbons. And in the center, among this troop of horsemen, is doubtless our new monarch. What a misfortune for him not to have at his side a man capable of ordering this swarm of peasants into something resembling a field order! Now look at these four pieces of cannon which drag like lame sheep behind the flock! Carajo, I would like to be a young officer of the King with a squadron of light cavalry on this ridge there! By my faith, I would swoop down on this crossroads, like a kestrel on a flock of little plovers. So I cut, and I cut. Down with those creeping gunners, a fire of rifles to cover us, an enveloping movement of the cavalry, and the rebel guns go off in a cloud of dust. What do they say, Sir Gervas? “A fine sport, Colonel,” said the baronet, a slight flush brightening his pale cheeks. ” I bet you were making your pandours trot! ” “Yes, the rascals had a choice: work or be hanged. But it seems to me that our friends are far from being as numerous as was reported. I estimate the cavalry at a thousand, and the infantry at about 5,200 men. I have been considered a good appraiser of numbers on such occasions. With the 1,500 in the town, that would make us nearly 8,000 men, and that is not a very considerable army to invade a kingdom and dispute a crown.” “If the West can provide eight thousand men, how many can all the counties of England give?” I asked. “Isn’t that the fairest way to look at the situation? ” “Monmouth’s popularity is concentrated mainly in the West,” Saxon replied. “It was this memory that made him decide to raise his standard in those counties. ” “Say his standards,” said Reuben. “Look, it looks like they’ve been hanging their laundry out to dry all along the line.” “True, they have more ensigns than I ever saw in so small an army,” replied Saxon, rising in his stirrups. ” One or two are blue. All the others, as far as I could judge, with the sun shining on them, are white, with some word or motto. ” During this conversation, the body of cavalry which formed the advance guard of the Protestant army had arrived within a quarter of a mile of the town, when a loud and clear blast of trumpets made them halt. This signal was repeated in each of the regiments or squadrons so that the sound passed rapidly along the whole long line, until at last it was lost in the distance. At the sight of this human cable which covered the whole road, and which was barely agitated by a movement of vibration, of undulation in its oscillating line, the analogy with a gigantic serpent came back to me once again. “I would find that it resembles a large boa constrictor, which would surround the city with its folds. ” “A rattlesnake rather,” said Reuben, pointing to the cannons at the rear guard. “It is in its tail that it keeps the means of making noise. ” “Here is its head approaching, if I am not mistaken,” said Saxon. “It would be better, I think, to position ourselves on the side of the gate.” As he spoke, a group of riders in flashy costumes detached themselves from the main body and headed straight for the city. At their head was a young man of tall stature, of slender and elegant figure, who rode with the grace of an accomplished squire. He stood out among those around him for the pride of his bearing and the richness of his harness. When he had galloped up to the gate, a shout of welcome arose from the multitude, a shout which was transmitted and continued to the more distant crowd. The latter, unable to see what was happening in front, concluded from these acclamations that the King was approaching. Chapter 5. The Review of the Men of the West. Monmouth was then in his thirty-sixth year. He was distinguished by those superficial graces which please the multitude and enable a man to take the leadership of a popular cause. He was young. He was fluent and witty in speech. He was skilled in all the exercises which become a soldier and a man.
While he was traveling the West, he had not thought it beneath him to embrace village girls, to offer prizes for country sports, and to dispute, wearing boots, the palm of the foot race with the most agile peasants running barefoot. He was of a vain and prodigal nature, but he excelled in that kind of magnificence which strikes the eye, and in that careless generosity which wins the hearts of the people. Both on the Continent and at Bothwell Bridge, he had led armies with success. His kindness, his pity towards the Covenanters, after the victory, had won him as much esteem from the Whigs as Dalzell and Claverhouse had attracted hatred. The moment he stopped his fine black horse at the gate of the town, he took off his plumed Montero hat before the acclaiming crowd. He had such a graceful and dignified bearing that it seemed like that of a knight errant in a novel, fighting with very unequal weapons to conquer a crown that had been stolen from him by the cunning of a tyrant. He was thought to have a good appearance, but I cannot say that I was of that opinion. His face seemed to me too elongated, too pale to be agreeable; but his features were accentuated and noble, his nose prominent, his eyes bright and penetrating. One might perhaps have discerned in the outline of his mouth some indications of that weakness which tarnished his reputation, although the expression was gentle and amiable. He wore a riding jacket of dark purple roquelaure, with edges and lapels of gold lace, which, when parted in front, revealed a brilliant silver breastplate. His attire was completed by a velvet suit of a lighter shade than the jacket, a pair of high boots of yellow Cordovan leather, a rapier with a gold hilt which he wore on one side, and a Parma dagger on the other, both weapons suspended from a belt of Morocco leather. A broad collar of Malines lace floated over his shoulders, and from his sleeves streamed cuffs of the same costly lace. Many times he raised his hat and bowed on the pommel of his saddle to answer the thunder of applause. “A Monmouth! A Monmouth!” cried the people. “Hail to the Protestant Chief!” “Long live King Monmouth!” And at every window, on every rooftop, on every balcony, handkerchiefs and hats were waving to enliven this joyous scene. The vanguard of the rebels was fired up at this sight and gave a great, dull cry which was taken up and repeated many times by the rest of the army and which ended up filling the whole country. Meanwhile, the elders of the city, led by our friend the Mayor, came out of the gate in all the finery of silk and fur costumes to do the King harm. The Mayor knelt beside Monmouth’s stirrup and kissed the hand that the latter gracefully extended to him. “My dear Mr. Mayor,” said the King in a clear and strong voice, ” it is for my enemies to bow down before me, and not for my friends. I pray you, what is this scroll you are unfolding?” “It is an address of welcome and submission, Your Majesty, from your loyal town of Taunton. ” “I need no such address,” said King Monmouth, casting his eyes around him. “It is written all around me in finer characters than ever was seen on parchment. My good friends have proved me welcome, without recourse to the aid of clerk or writer. Your name is Stephen Timewell, worthy Mr. Mayor, I am informed. ” “Yes, Your Majesty. ” “It is too short a name for so trustworthy a man,” said the King, drawing his sword, and touching him on the shoulder, “I will lengthen it by three letters. Rise, Sir Stephen, and may I find many other such knights in my kingdom, and as loyal, as steadfast.” The Mayor withdrew with the councilors to the left side of the gate, amidst the applause that this honor conferred on the city caused , while Monmouth and his escort formed a group on the right. At a given signal, a trumpeter sounded a fanfare. The drums gave a warlike roll, and the insurgent army, in close ranks, banners unfurled, resumed its march towards the city. As it approached, Saxon pointed out to us the various leaders and distinguished personages who surrounded the King, and told us their names, adding a few words about their characters. “This is Lord Grey of Wark,” he said. “He is that thin little man of middle age, on the King’s left side. He was once put in the Tower for high treason. It was he who ran away with Lady Henrietta Berkeley, his wife’s sister. A fine leader, indeed, in a pious cause.” The man on his left, the one with the red, puffy face and the white feather in his cap, is Colonel Holmes. I hope he never shows the white feather anywhere but on his head. The other one on the dark bay horse is a lawyer, but, to my mind, a man who understands better how to arrange a battalion than how to write an expense report. He was the Republican Wade who led the infantry at Bridport and got them out of there unharmed. The tall one over there with the big features, who is wearing a steel helmet, is Antoine Buyse, the Brandenburger, a soldier of fortune, a man of great heart, as are most of his countrymen. I have fought sometimes with him, sometimes against him, before the present day. “Note then the tall, very thin personage behind him,” cried Reuben. “He has drawn his sword and brandishes it above his head. This is a singularly chosen time and place for sword practice. He is certainly mad. ” “Perhaps you are not far from the truth,” said Saxon, “and yet by the hilt of my sword, without this man there would be no Protestant army, like the one advancing towards us by this road. It was he who, by making the crown flutter before Monmouth’s eyes , made him leave his comfortable retreat in Brabant.” There is not one of these men whom he has not seduced and drawn into this affair by some bait or other. With Grey, it was a Duke, hey; with Wade, the woolsack ; with Buyse, the plundering of Cheapside. Each has his own motive, but the strings that move them are in the hands of that rabid fanatic who moves these puppets at his will. He has plotted more, lied more, and suffered less than any of the Whigs in the party. “That must be Dr. Robert Ferguson, whom I heard my father speak of,” I said. “You are right, it is he. I saw him only once in Amsterdam, but I recognize him by his disheveled wig and misshapen shoulders . They whisper that his inordinate infatuation has clouded his reason. See, the German puts his hand on his shoulder and persuades him to put away his weapon.” King Monmouth also looks around him and smiles as if he saw in him the court jester, in a Genevan coat, instead of the multicolored one. But the vanguard is coming near us. To your companies, and do not forget to raise your swords to salute the flag of each troop as they pass. While our companion was talking, the entire Protestant army was rolling towards the city and the head of the vanguard was at the gate. Four squadrons of cavalry were marching in front, badly harnessed, badly mounted, with ropes for bridles, and some of them wearing sackcloth squares for saddles. Most of the men had sabers and pistols for weapons. A few wore buffalo mail, pieces of armor, helmets taken from Axminster, and sometimes still stained with the blood of the one who had last carried them. In their midst marched a standard-bearer. He held a large square standard suspended from a pole, which rested on a hole in the side of the saddle. On this flag were inscribed in gold letters the words: Pio libertate et religione nostra. These horsemen belonged to the class of small rural landowners and their sons. Unaccustomed to discipline, they had a high opinion of themselves, as volunteers, which led them to joke and argue about every command. The result was that, although not lacking in natural courage, they rendered little service during the war and were more of an embarrassment than a useful help to the army. After the cavalry came the infantry, drawn up six abreast, divided into companies of varying strength. Each company had a standard indicating the town or village where it had been raised. This method of ordering the troops was adopted because it was recognized that it was impossible to separate men united by ties of kinship and neighborly relations. They intended, they said, to fight side by side, or not to fight at all. For my part, I find that this is not a bad idea, because when it comes to playing pikes, everyone holds their ground all the more firmly if they know they are flanked on the right and left by old, tried friends. I later came to know a great many places through the words of the men, and I passed through a great many others, so that the names inscribed on the banners had a real meaning for me. Homer devoted, as I remember, a chapter or a book to the enumeration of all the Greek leaders, the places from which they came and the number of men they brought to the general review. It is unfortunate that the West did not have its Homer to preserve the names of these brave peasants and artisans, to recall what each of them accomplished or endured. At least the places of their birth will not be lost to oblivion, as far as my poor memory depends. The first regiment of infantry, if one can call such a troop organized in such a rudimentary way, was composed of seafarers , fishermen, and coasters dressed in the heavy blue cloth jerkins and the coarse costume of their class. They were bronzed, tanned sea dogs, with hard, mahogany-colored faces, with various weapons, duck nets, cutlasses , pistols. I imagine that these weapons were not used for the first time against King James, for the coasts of Somerset and Devon were famous for their race of smugglers, and more than one capricious-looking lugger was doubtless moored in a cove or bay, while its crew was away at Taunton to wage war. As for discipline, they had no idea of it. They went about with their sailor’s steps like real sea dogs, exchanging various shouts among themselves and with the crowd. From Star Point to Portlands Roads the nets were to lie idle for many weeks, and many a fish passed through the straits of the sea, which should have formed piles at Lyme Cobb or been spread out for sale in the market at Plymouth. Each of the groups or bands of these seafarers had its banner. That of Lyme was in the front; then came those of Topsham, Colyfort, Bridport, Sidmouth, Otterton, Abbotsbury, and Charmouth, towns which are all in the south on the coast or very near. They passed thus before us in a confused and careless troop, their hats perched askew, the smoke of their tobacco rising above them like the steam from the body of a tired horse. Their number must have amounted to about four hundred. The peasants of Rockbere, armed with flails and scythes, came at the head of the next column, which preceded the Honiton banner defended by two hundred sturdy lace-makers from the banks of the Otter. These men, as the color of their faces showed, had been kept within four walls by their trade, but they were far superior to their peasant comrades in their alert manners and martial attitude. Moreover, with regard to all the troops in general, we noticed that if the peasants showed more endurance and good will, the tradesmen more quickly took to the air and spirit of the camps. Behind the people of Honiton came the cloth weavers, the Wellington Puritans, with their Mayor mounted on a white horse, beside their standard-bearer, and preceded by a band of twenty instrumentalists. With their fierce faces, they were thoughtful, calm men. The greater number were dressed in gray and wore broad-brimmed hats. For God and Faith was the motto of a standard that flew among them. The drapers formed three strong companies, and the entire regiment must have numbered nearly six hundred men. The third regiment was led by five hundred infantrymen supplied by Taunton, people of peaceful and industrious lives, but deeply imbued with those great principles of civil and religious liberty which three years later were to overthrow everything before them in England. As they passed through the gate, they were greeted by thunderous applause from their fellow citizens posted on the walls and at the windows. Their regular and compact ranks, their broad and honest burgher faces, seemed to me to have an air marked by discipline and work well done. Behind them came the recruits from Winterbourne, Illminster, Chard, Yeovil, and Collumpton, each troop of at least a hundred pikemen, which brought the strength of the regiment to a thousand men. Then a squadron of cavalry trotted past. It was closely followed by the Fourth Regiment. The vanguard carried the standards of Beaminster, Crewkerne, Langport, and Chidiock, so many peaceful villages in the county of Somerset, which had sent their men to strike a blow for the old cause. Puritan ministers, wearing pointed hats and Genevan robes, once black but now white with dust, marched steadily beside their flocks. Then came a large company of wild herdsmen, barely armed, from the great plains that stretch from the Blackdowns in the south to the Mendips in the north. I tell you that these fellows bore no resemblance to the Corydons, to the Strephons of Master Waller or Master Dryden, who depicted shepherds always shedding tears of love and blowing into a plaintive pipe. I fear that Chloe, that Phyllis would have found very coarse lovers among these savages of the West. After them came Dorchester musketeers, Newton Poppleford pikemen , and a body of solid infantry furnished by the serge weavers of Ottery Saint Mary. This fourth regiment numbered a little over eight hundred men, but in armament and discipline it was inferior to the one that preceded it. The fifth regiment had in its lead a company of the people inhabiting the marshy regions that form the monotonous region around Athelney. These men, in their dark and sordid lodgings, had retained the same free and bold character which, in times past, had made them the last resource of good King Alfred and the defenders of the western counties against the incursions of the Danes: the latter could never penetrate into the heart of their fortresses surrounded by water. Two companies of these men, tow-haired, barefoot, but ardent in the singing of hymns and prayers, had come from their citadels to aid the Protestant cause. After them came the woodcutters and carpenters of Bishop’s Lidiard, stout, vigorous men under their green jerkins, then the white-coated villagers of Huish Champ flover. The regiment ended with 400 men in red coats, with white cross-buckles and well-polished muskets. They were deserters from the Devon County Militia. They had traveled with Albemarle from Exeter and had joined Monmouth’s army on the battlefield of Axminster. These were grouped in a single body, but there were a good many other militiamen, some in red coats, others in yellow, scattered among the different bodies I have enumerated. This regiment could number seven hundred men. The sixth and last column of infantry was led by a troop of peasants whose banner bore the name of Minehead, with the three bales and the ship with unfurled sails that form the arms of that ancient city. Most of them had come from the wild country that stretches north of Dunster Castle, and runs along the banks of the Bristol Channel. Then came the poachers and hunters from Porlock Quay. They had left the red deer of Exmoor to graze in peace to pursue nobler game. After them came people from Dulverton, people from Milverton, people of Wiveliscombe, and the sun-drenched slopes of the Quantocks, the sun-tanned, fierce men of the barren moors of Dunkerry Beacon, the tall, strong horse-breeders and cattle-dealers of Bampton. The banners of Bridgewater, Shepton Mallet, and Lower Storvey passed before us, with those of the Clovelly fishermen and the Blackdown quarrymen. In the rear came three companies of strange men, gigantic in stature, though somewhat bent with work, with long, bushy beards, and hair falling in disorder over their eyes. These were the miners of the Mendip Hills, and the Oare Valleys, of Bagworthy, rough, half-savage people, who rolled their eyes at the velvets and brocades displayed by the townspeople, shouting at the top of their voices, or else they stared at their smiling wives with a fierce intensity that terrified the peaceful burghers. The long line unfolded thus, to end with four squadrons of cavalry, and four small guns accompanied by their gunners, Dutchmen in blue coats, who stood as stiff as their swabs. A long procession of chariots and carriages, which had followed the army, were driven into the fields outside the walls and installed there. When the last soldier had passed through Shuttern Gate, Monmouth and his leaders entered slowly, mounted, the Mayor walking beside the King’s steed. As we saluted them, they faced us, and I saw a quick flash of joy pass over Monmouth’s pale face, as he observed our compact ranks and military appearance. “By my faith, gentlemen,” he said, looking over his staff , “our worthy friend the Mayor must have inherited the dragon’s teeth of Cadmus. Where did you get this fine crop, Sir Stephen? How did you manage to bring them to such perfection, even to the point of having powdered grenadiers? ” “I have fifteen hundred men in the town,” replied the old draper proudly , “though not all are so disciplined. These people are from the county of Wilts, the officers are from Hampshire. As for their good order, the credit does not go to me, but to the old soldier Colonel Decimus Saxon, whom they chose for commander, as well as the captains who serve under him.” “I owe you my thanks,” said the King, addressing Saxon, who bowed and lowered the point of his sword to the ground, “and to you too, gentlemen; I will not forget the ardent fidelity which brought you from Hampshire in so short a time. God grant that I may find the same virtue in higher places. But I am told, Colonel Saxon, you have long served abroad. What do you think of the army which has just filed past your eyes? ” “If it please your Majesty,” replied Saxon, “it is like a quantity of wool which has not yet been carded, and which is rather coarse in itself, but which may in time be woven into a fine garment. ” “Ha! There will not be much leisure for weaving,” said Monmouth. ” But they fight well. If you had seen how they behaved at Axminster! We hope to see you and hear you expound your views at the council table.” But what is it? Have I not already seen this gentleman’s face ? “It is the honorable Sir Gervas Jerome, of the County of Surrey,” said Saxon. “Your Majesty may have seen me at St. James’s,” said the Baronet, uncovering his hat, “or on the balcony of Whitehall. I used to go to Court a great deal during the late King’s last years. ” “Yes, yes, I remember the name as well as the face,” cried Monmouth. “You see, gentlemen,” he continued, addressing his staff, “the people of the Court are finally deciding to come. Are you not the one who fought with Sir Thomas Killigrew, behind Dunkirk House? I suspected as much. Will you not be part of my retinue?” personal? “If it pleases Your Majesty,” replied Sir Gervas, “I believe I can be of more service to your royal cause by remaining at the head of my musketeers. ” “Well, so be it!” said King Monmouth. Then, spurring his horse, he took off his hat in response to the cheers of the troops and trotted down the High Street under a shower of flowers that fell from the roofs and windows onto him, his staff, and his escort. We had joined his troop, as we had received orders, so that we had our share of this joyous crossfire. A rose, which was fluttering, was snatched by Reuben as he passed. I noticed it; he raised it to his lips, then hid it under his breastplate. I looked up and caught the smiling face of our host’s little daughter spying on us at a window. “What skill, Reuben!” I said in a low voice. At backgammon as at hole ball, you have always been our best player. “Ah! Micah,” he said, “I bless the day I had the idea of following you to the war. Today I would not change my place with Monmouth’s . ” “We are already there!” I cried. “What, my boy, you have hardly opened the trench, and you talk as if you had carried the place away. ” “Perhaps I am letting myself be carried away by hope,” he cried, passing from hot to cold as a man does when he is in love, or has tertian fever, or some other malady of the body. God knows how little I am worthy of her, and yet… ” “Do not attach your heart too strongly to something that may well be inaccessible to you,” I said. “The old man is rich, and he will raise his eyes higher. ” “I wish he were poor,” sighed Reuben, with all the selfishness of a lover . If this war lasts, I might win some honor, some title. Who knows? Others have. Why shouldn’t I? “We set out from Havant three,” I remarked. “One is spurred on by ambition, the other by love. Now what am I to do, who am indifferent to great offices and careless of a young lady’s figure? What can draw me into battle? ” “Our motives come and go, but yours remains ever within you. Honor and duty, Micah, those are the two stars that have ever guided your actions. ” “Upon my word! Mistress Ruth taught you to make pretty speeches,” I said, “but it seems to me she ought to be here among the young ladies of Taunton.” As we talked, we made our way toward the Market Square, which our troops were now filling. Around the cross was ranged a group of about twenty young girls dressed in white muslin costumes, with blue sashes around their waists. As the King approached, these young ladies, with graceful timidity , advanced to meet him, and offered him a banner they had embroidered for him, as well as a Bible very elegantly bound in gold. Monmouth handed the banner to one of his captains, but he raised the book above his head, shouting that he had come to defend the truths contained therein, which gave redoubled vigor to the applause and acclamations. It was thought that he would harangue the people from the top of the cross, but he contented himself with remaining there while the heralds proclaimed his titles to the crown. After this, he gave the order to disperse, and the troops went to the various gathering places where their food had been provided. The King and his principal officers established their headquarters in the castle, while the Mayor and the richest bourgeois provided accommodation for the others. As for the common soldiers, a large number of them were put to subsistence by the inhabitants. Many others camped in the streets and grounds surrounding the castle. The rest settled in the carriages and carts left in the fields outside the city. They lit large fires. They roasted mutton and poured beer freely, with as much gusto as if it were a country outing and not a march on London. Chapter 6. A Handshake Between Me and the Brandenburger. King Monmouth had called a council meeting for the evening and ordered Colonel Decimus Saxon to attend. I went with him, carrying the small bundle that Sir Jacob Clancing had entrusted to my care. When we arrived at the castle, we learned that the King had not yet left his room. We were shown into the great hall to await him. It was a beautiful room with high windows and a superb carved wooden ceiling. At the far end was fixed the coat of arms of Monmouth, but without the sinister helm which it had hitherto worn. There were assembled the principal commanders of the army, a great many of the subordinate officers of the town officials, and others who had petitions to present. Lord Grey of Wark stood by a window, gazing gloomily over the countryside. Wade and Holmes nodded and talked in a low voice in a corner. Ferguson strode to and fro, his wig askew, shouting exhortations and prayers at the top of his voice, delivered with the most marked Scottish accent. A number of persons, in more cheerful costumes, had gathered around the fireless fireplace, and were listening to one of them tell a story in language full of oaths, which made them burst into laughter. In another corner, a group of fanatics, in black or brown clothes, with broad white cuffs and trailing cloaks, were forming a circle around one of the most tasteful preachers and discussing in low voices the Calvinist philosophy in its relation to the science of government. A small number of soldiers in simple costumes and manners, who were neither courtiers nor sectarians, were pacing back and forth, or gazing fixedly through the windows at the animated camp formed on the castle lawn. Saxon led me to one of these men, remarkable for his height and broad shoulders, and pulling him by the sleeve, held out his hand as to an old friend. “Mein Gott!” cried the German adventurer, “for it was the very one Saxon had pointed out to me in the morning. I thought it was you, Saxon, when I saw you near the door, although you are even thinner than before.” How is it that after drinking as much good Bavarian beer as you did, you remained so gaunt? It is beyond my understanding. And how did your business go? “As in the old days,” said Saxon, “more blows than thalers, and I have needed a surgeon more often than a safe. When did I last see you, my friend? Was it not at the affair of Nuremberg, when I commanded the right wing, and you the left wing of the heavy cavalry? ” “No,” said Buyse, “I have met you since then, on the field of business. Have you forgotten the skirmish on the banks of the Rhine, when you discharged your Dutch rifle at me? If it had not been for a scoundrel who disemboweled my horse, I would have blown your head off as easily as a boy knocks down thistles with a stick. ” “Yes,” replied Saxon placidly, “I had forgotten it.” You were taken prisoner, if I remember correctly, but afterwards you knocked out the sentry with your chains and swam across the Rhine under fire from a regiment. And yet, I believe, we offered you the same advantages that you received from others. “I have indeed been made such filthy offers,” said the German, in a harsh tone. To which I replied that if I sold my sword, I was not selling my honor. It is good that cavaliers of fortune should show what a contract is for them… how do you say… inviolable for the duration of the war. Then one becomes perfectly free again to change one’s paymaster. Why not? ” “It’s true, my friend, it’s true,” replied Saxon. “The beggars of Italians and Swiss have made a real trade of the profession. They have sold themselves with such embarrassment, body and soul, to the one with the best-lined purse, that we must be touchy on the point of honor. But you remember the handshake of old that not a man from the Palatinate was strong enough to exchange with you. This is my captain, Micah Clarke.” He must see what a warm welcome a North German can give you. The Brandenburger showed his white teeth in a sneer as he held out his large brown hand to me. As soon as mine was enclosed within it, he suddenly used all his strength to squeeze it, so that the blood rushed quickly to my nails, and my whole hand was paralyzed, helpless. “Donner wetter!” he cried, laughing heartily at the start of pain and surprise I had made. “It’s a big Prussian joke , and English boys don’t have the stomach for it. ” “To tell the truth,” I said, “this is the first time I’ve seen this amusement, and I would ask nothing better than to practice it under such a capable master. ” “What? Again?” he cried, “but you must still be quite scalded from the first one.” Well, I will not refuse you, although, after that, you will no longer have the same strength to grip the hilt of your saber. As he said this, he held out his hand, which I grasped forcefully, thumb against thumb, raising my elbow to put all my strength into this pressure. As I had noticed, his trick consisted of paralyzing the other hand by a great and sudden display of force. I resisted it by deploying my whole strength. For a minute or two, we remained motionless, looking into each other’s eyes. Then, I saw a drop of sweat roll down his forehead. I was then certain that he was defeated. The pressure slowly lessened. His hand became inert, limp while mine continued to tighten so well that finally, in a grumbling and stifled voice, he was forced to ask me to let go of him. “Devil and Witchcraft!” he cried, wiping the blood that trickled out from under his nails, I should have put my fingers in a rat trap. You’re the first person who’s ever been able to exchange a real handshake with Antoine Buyse. “We produce muscle in England as well as in Brandenburg,” said Saxon, who burst out laughing at the discomfiture of the German soldier. “Hey, look, I saw that young fellow take a life-size dragoon sergeant by the arm and throw him into a cart as easily as he would have done with a shovelful of earth. ” “For strong, he is!” growled Buyse, who was still twisting his paralyzed hand, “as hard as Goetz with the iron fist. But what use is strength alone in handling a weapon? It is not the force of the blow, but the manner in which it is delivered, that produces the effect.” Look, your saber is heavier than mine, at first sight, and yet my blade would make a deeper cut. Eh! is not this a game more worthy of a warrior than a child’s amusement, like a handshake, and the rest? “He is a modest young man,” said Saxon, “and yet I would bet for his blow against yours. ” “What stake?” growled the German. “As much wine as we can drink in one sitting. ” “That’s saying something, indeed,” said Buyse, “a couple of gallons at the very least. Well, so be it. Will you accept the fight? ” “I’ll do what I can,” I said, “though I have little hope of hitting as hard as an old, tried soldier. ” “The devil take your compliments!” he shouted angrily. “It was with gentle words that you caught my fingers in this fool’s trap. Now here is my old Spanish steel helmet. As you see, it bears one or two marks of blows, and a new mark will do it no great harm. I place it here on this chair, which is high enough to give sufficient play to the saber blow. Let us go, my gentleman, and see if you are capable of putting your mark on it. ” “Strike first, sir,” I said, “since you have borne the challenge.” “I’ll have to damage my own helmet to restore my reputation as a soldier,” he grumbled. “Either way, it’s withstood more than one chop these days.” He drew his saber, forced back the crowd that had gathered around us , brandished the blade with astonishing vigor around his head, and brought it down with all its momentum, accurately, on the polished steel helmet. It bounced high, then fell with a loud thud on the oak floor. A long, deep gash could be seen on it, which had penetrated through the thickness of the metal. “Well struck! A fine blow!” shouted the spectators. “It’s steel tested and thrice tempered, guaranteed to make a saber slide,” someone said, after picking up the helmet to examine it. Then he replaced it on the chair. “I saw my father cut through hardened steel with that old saber,” I said, drawing the fifty-year-old weapon. “He put a little more force into it than you did. I heard him say that a good blow comes from the back and kidneys rather than from the muscles of the arm alone. ” “It’s not a lecture we need, but a beispiel or example,” the German mocked. “It’s your blow we’re dealing with, not your father’s lessons. ” “My blow,” I said, “is in accord with my father’s lessons.” Then whirling the saber, I brought it down with all my strength on the German’s helmet. The good old blade from the time of the Republic sliced through the steel plate, cut the chair in two, and sank its point two inches deep into the oak floor. “It’s only a trick,” I explained, “a trick I performed at home on winter evenings. ” “That’s a trick I wouldn’t care to have performed on me,” said Lord Grey, amidst a general murmur of applause and surprise. “By my faith, my man, you came into the world two centuries too late. What value would your muscles have had before gunpowder had put all men on the same level! ” “Marvelous!” growled Buyse, “marvelous! I’m past the age of strength, my young sir, and I can well leave you the prize for vigor. It was truly a magnificent trick. It cost me a barrel or two of Canary wine, and a good old helmet, but I don’t regret it , for the thing was done in all fairness. I’m glad my head wasn’t in it.” Saxon, here, has shown us some fine sword tricks, but he lacks the weight needed for stunning blows like this. “I still have a good eye and a steady hand, though lack of practice has made them lose something,” said Saxon, only too happy to seize this opportunity to attract the attention of the leaders. “With sabre, with sword and dagger, sword and shield, a single falchion or the assortment of falchions, my old challenge still stands against the first comer, with the exception of my brother Quartus, who plays as well than me, but he has half an inch in height which gives him the advantage over me. “I studied sabre fencing under Signor Contarini, of Paris,” said Lord Grey. “Who was your master? ” “My lord,” said Saxon, “I studied under Signor Bitter Necessity, of Europe. For thirty-five years, every day of my life depended on my being able to defend myself with this piece of steel. Here is a little trick which requires some precision of eye. It consists of throwing this ring to the ceiling and catching it on the point of a rapier. It may seem easy, and yet one cannot do it without some practice. ” “Easy!” cried Wade, the lawyer, a square-faced personage with a bold look. “But the ring is just large enough for your little finger. One might succeed in this trick once by chance, but one cannot count on it.” “I’ll put a guinea on every blow,” said Saxon, and throwing the small gold circlet into the air , he brandished his rapier and delivered a thrust with its point. The ring slid with a metallic clang down the blade and rang against the hilt, dexterously threaded. With a quick flick of the wrist, he hurled it again at the ceiling, where it struck a carved beam and changed direction, but he again made a swift forward movement, placed himself beneath it, and received it on the point of his sword. “Surely there is some cavalier in the audience who can perform that trick as well as I can,” he said, replacing the ring on his finger. “Colonel, I think I might risk it,” said a voice. We looked around and saw that Monmouth had entered the room and was waiting silently near the large group. He had remained unobserved thanks to the general attention which our rivalry had absorbed. “No, no, gentlemen,” he continued charmingly, while we bowed and bowed with a rather embarrassed air. “My faithful companions could not better employ their time than to catch their breath a little with a few little sword games. I beg you, Colonel, lend me your rapier. ” He took from his finger a ring with a diamond set in it, tossed it in the air, and slipped it on with as much skill as Saxon had done. “I practiced this trick at the Hague, where, upon my word, I had far too much leisure to devote to such trifles. But what mean these plates of steel, and these splinters of wood scattered on the floor? ” “A son of Anak has appeared among us,” said Ferguson, raising his face, all ravaged and reddened by scrofula, towards me . A Goliath of Gath , whose stroke is like that of a weaver’s beam. Has he not the smooth cheek of a little child and the muscles of Bellemoth? “A deft stroke, indeed,” said the King, picking up half the chair. “And what is the name of our champion? ” “He is my captain, Your Majesty,” said Saxon, sheathing the sword the King had handed him, “Micah Clarke, a native of Hampshire. ” “That country produces a good old English stock,” said Monmouth, “but how is it that you are here, sir? I summoned my personal retinue this morning, and the colonels of the regiments. If all the captains are to be admitted to our councils, we shall be obliged to hold them on the castle lawn, for there will not be a hall large enough for us.” “Your Majesty,” I replied, “if I have ventured to come here, it is because, during my journey, I was charged with a commission, which consisted of delivering a package into your hands. I therefore believed it was my duty not to lose a moment in carrying out my mission. ” “What is it?” he asked. “I don’t know,” I replied. Doctor Ferguson whispered a few words in the King’s ear, who began to laugh, and held out his hand to take the package. “Ta! Ta!” he said, “the times of the Borgias and the Medicis are past, Doctor. Besides, this young man is no Italian conspirator, and Nature has given him loyal blue eyes and hemp-colored hair as a certificate of honesty. It is very heavy—a lead ingot, judging by the weight. It is enclosed in canvas sewn with coarse thread. Ha! it is a bar of gold, solid virgin gold, isn’t it very extraordinary. Take charge of it, Wade, and see that it goes into the common treasury. This little piece of metal can provide ten pikemen. What is this? A letter and a sealed envelope. To James, Duke of Monmouth. Hmm! This was written before we took our royal title: Sir Jacob Clancing, once of Snellaby Hall, sends his greetings and a token of affection. Carry the good work to a successful conclusion. A hundred such ingots await you when you have crossed Salisbury Plains. Magnificent promises, Sir Jacob! I wish you had sent them. Well , gentlemen, you see, aid and tokens of goodwill are pouring in. Is it not the hour of the rising tide? Has the usurper any hope of maintaining himself? Will his people remain attached to him? In a month, and even less time, I shall see you all gathered around me at Westminster, and then no duty will be more pleasing to me than to see that all of you, from the highest to the least, are rewarded for your loyalty to your monarch in this dark hour for him, in this perilous hour. A murmur of gratitude arose from among the courtiers at this gracious speech, but the German tugged at Saxon’s sleeve and said in a low voice: “He has his fit of heat now. You will see him cool down soon.” “Fifteen hundred men have joined me here, where I expected only a thousand at the most,” resumed the King. ” If we had great hopes when we landed at Lyme Cobb, where we were accompanied by eighty people, what are we to think now, when we find ourselves in the principal town of Somerset with eight thousand brave men around us? Another affair like that of Axminster, and my uncle’s power will crumble like a house of cards. But gather around the table, gentlemen, and we will discuss matters according to all the rules. ” “Here is another slip of paper which you have not read, sire,” said Wade , handing him a note which had been enclosed in the bill. “It is a rhymed catchphrase, or a refrain of a round,” said Monmouth, glancing at it. “What sense shall we make of this?” When your star is in the trine aspect, Between brightness and darkness, Duke Monmouth, Duke Monmouth, Beware the Rhine. –Your star in the trine aspect? What is this bad joke. –If it please Your Majesty, I said, I have reason to believe that the person who sent you this message is one of the adepts deeply versed in the arts of divination, and who claim to foretell the destinies of men according to the movements of the celestial bodies. –This gentleman is right, sire, remarked Lord Grey. Your star in the trine aspect, is a term of astrology which signifies that your natal planet will be in a certain region of the sky. These verses are of the order of prophecy. The Chaldeans and Egyptians of old are said to have acquired great skill in this art, but I confess that I do not think much of the opinion of those prophets of modern times who take the trouble to answer the silly questions of the first housewife who comes along: And who reveal thanks to Venus or the Moon Who has stolen a thimble or a spoon. said Saxon in a low voice, quoting a passage from his favorite poem. “Well! now our colonels are catching the rhyme disease,” said the King, laughing. “We will then lay down the sword and take up the harp, as Alfred did in this very country. Or else I will become a King of the bards and troubadours, like good King René of Provence. But, gentlemen, if this is truly a prophecy, it is, in my opinion, a good omen for our enterprise. No doubt I am invited to distrust the Rhine, but it is very unlikely that our quarrel will be decided by arms on its banks.
“So much the worse!” muttered the German between his teeth. “So we can thank this Sir Jacob and his gigantic messenger for his prediction as much as for his gold. But here is the worthy Mayor of Taunton, the oldest of our councilors and the newest of our knights. Captain Clarke, I beg you to post yourself within the gate and oppose all intrusion. What passes between us will, I am certain, be safe in your custody.” I bowed and took my assigned post while the councilors and military leaders sat around the large oak table that occupied the center of the hall. The soft evening light streamed in through the three western windows, while the conversations of the soldiers encamped on the castle lawn echoed like the sleepy buzzing of insects. Monmouth paced back and forth with a quick, embarrassed air to the far end of the room, until everyone was seated. Then he turned to the group and addressed them: “You must have guessed, gentlemen,” he said, “that if I have called you together today, it is to profit by your collective wisdom and to determine the course we must take. We have advanced about forty miles into our kingdom, and everywhere we have found the warm welcome we expected.” Well over eight thousand men follow our standards and an equal number have had to be sent back for lack of weapons. We have twice found ourselves in the presence of the enemy, and the result of these encounters has delivered up their muskets and field pieces to us. From the beginning to the last moment, nothing has happened that has not turned to our advantage. We must ensure that the future is as happy as the past. It is to ensure this success that I have called you together, and now I ask you to give me your opinion on our situation, and to let me plan our course of action after I have heard you. There are statesmen among you, there are soldiers among you, there are men of piety among you who can see a flash of light while statesmen and soldiers are in darkness. So speak without fear, let me know your thoughts. From my central post by the door I could clearly see the rows of figures on either side of the table, the solemn, clean-shaven Puritans , the sunburned soldiers, the mustachioed, white-wigged courtiers. My eyes were most fixed on the scorbutic features of Ferguson, the hard, aquiline profile of Saxon, the coarse face of the German , and the pointed, thoughtful countenance of the Lord of Wark. “If no one else will express an opinion,” cried the fanatical doctor, “I will speak myself, as inspired by an inner voice. For have I not labored for the cause, made myself its slave, suffering, and enduring many things by the act of the bold? Whereby my mind hath abundantly borne fruit. Have I not been trodden down as in a wine-press, and cast to the dregs with hisses and scorn?” “We know your merits and your sufferings, doctor,” said the King. ” The question before us is what we have to do. ” “Has not a voice been heard in the East?” cried the old Whig. “Has not a name been raised like that of a great outcry, of great weeping for a broken Covenant and a sinful generation. Whence came this cry? What was this voice? Was it not that of that man, Robert Ferguson, who stood against the great of the earth and would not be appeased? “Yes, yes, doctor,” said Monmouth impatiently. “Speak of the matter at hand, or make way for another. ” “I will explain myself clearly, Your Majesty. Have you not heard that Argyle is taken. And why is he taken? Because he did not have the confidence he ought to have in the works of the Almighty, because he had to reject the help of the children of light to accept that of the offspring of Prelaticism, men with bare legs, half pagan, half papist. If he had walked in the way of the Lord, he would not be locked up in the Edinburgh Prison, with the rope or the axe in sight. Why has he not girded up his loins, to march straight forward, with the standard of light, instead of amusing himself here and there, waiting, like a Didymus with an uncertain heart.” And our fate will be the same or worse, if we do not advance into the interior, if we do not plant our standards before this guilty city of London, the city where the Lord’s work is to be done, where the tares are to be separated from the wheat, and heaped apart to be burned. “In short, you are of the opinion that we should march,” demanded Monmouth. “That we should march forward, Your Majesty, and prepare ourselves to be the instruments of grace, that we should refrain from defiling the cause of the Gospel by wearing the devil’s livery,” he said, shooting a fierce look at a brightly dressed rider who sat on the other side of the table, “that we should renounce playing cards, singing profane songs, and swearing, all of which are committed every night by the members of this army, which is a great scandal to God and people.” A murmur of assent and approval arose among the staunchest Puritans in the assembly, when they heard this opinion expressed, while the courtiers exchanged glances and put out their lips mockingly. Monmouth went back and forth two or three times and asked another opinion. “You, Lord Grey,” said he, “are a soldier and a man of experience; what is your opinion? Shall we halt here or press on to London? ” “To proceed eastward would be to our ruin, in my humble judgment,” replied Grey, speaking slowly, and in the tone of one who has long and carefully considered his decision. “James Stuart has plenty of cavalry, and we are entirely without them. We can hold fast behind hedges in a broken country, but what chance would we have in the middle of Salisbury Plain? Surrounded by dragoons, we would be like a flock of sheep surrounded by a pack of wolves.” Besides, every step we take in the direction of London takes us further from the terrain that favors us, and from the fertile country that supplies our needs, at the same time that it shortens the distance that James Stuart must travel to bring his troops and his supplies. Therefore, unless we receive news of a major uprising in our favor in London, we had better defend our ground and await an attack. “You reason with finesse and accuracy, My Lord Grey,” said the King. “But how long shall we wait for this uprising that never comes , for this support always promised that never arrives. For seven long days we have been in England and during this time, not one of the members of the House of Commons has come to us, and among the Lords there is only Lord Grey who was himself in exile. Not a baron, not an earl, and a single baronet has taken up arms for us. Where are the men that Danvers and Wildman promised me from London?” Where are the restless apprentices of the City who, it was said, were urgently asking for me? Where are the insurrections which were to spread from Berwick to Portland, it was announced. Not a man has moved, except these good peasants. I was deceived, lured into a trap, driven into a trap by vile agents who dragged me to the slaughterhouse. He paced back and forth wringing his hands, biting his lips, despair written in broad strokes on his face. I noticed that Buyse said a few words in Saxon’s ear. It was doubtless an allusion to the cold attack he had spoken of. “Speak, Colonel Buyse,” said the King, making a violent effort to control his emotion. “As a soldier, do you agree with My Lord Grey?” “Ask Saxon, Your Majesty,” replied the German. “In a meeting of the Council, my opinion, as I have noticed, is always the same as his. ” “Then we address ourselves to you, Colonel Saxon,” said Monmouth. “We have in this Council one party in favor of a forward march, and another that proposes to maintain our position. If your vote were to tip the scales, what would you decide? All eyes turned towards our leader, for his martial bearing and the respect shown to him by Buyse, a veteran, suggested with all probability that his opinion would prevail. He remained silent for a moment, his hands on his face. “I will say what I think, Majesty,” he said finally. “Feversham and Churchill are marching towards Salisbury with 3,000 infantry, and they have thrown forward 800 men of the Blue Guard and two or three regiments of dragoons. We would therefore be forced to give battle on Salisbury Plain, as Lord Grey said, and our infantry, which has weapons of all kinds, would hardly be able to resist their temper. All things are possible to the Lord, as Doctor Ferguson wisely says; we are like grains of dust in the hollow of his hand.” However, he has given us brains so that we may be in a position to choose the best course, and if we fail to use them, we shall have to bear the consequences of our folly. Ferguson laughed contemptuously and muttered a prayer, but many of the Puritans nodded in assent, acknowledging that there was nothing unreasonable in this way of looking at things. “On the other hand,” Saxon continued, “it seems to me equally impossible that we should remain here. Your Majesty’s friends throughout England would be entirely discouraged if the army stood still, without striking a blow. The peasants would return to their wives, to their homes. Such an example is contagious. I have seen a large army melt like an icicle in the sun. Once they were gone, it would not be easy to gather them again. To retain them, they must be occupied.” Never leave them for a minute without doing anything, exercise them, make them march, make them maneuver, make them work, preach to them, make them obey God and their colonel. None of this is possible in a comfortable garrison. We cannot hope to complete this enterprise until we arrive in London. So, London must be our goal. But there are many roads to get there. Sire, you have many supporters in Bristol and in the Central Lands, from what I have heard. If I may give advice, I would say: Let us march in that direction. Each day that passes will increase the number of your troops and make them better, if it is noticed that they are moving. Suppose that we take Bristol—and I have heard that the works are not very strong—that would give us a very good hold on the navigation, and a center of action such as there are few. If all goes well with us, we could march on London through the counties of Gloucester and Worcester. In the meantime, I would be of opinion that a day of pain and humiliation should be imposed to call down a blessing on the cause. This address, in which the wisdom of this world was skillfully combined and spiritual zeal, won the applause of the whole assembly, and especially of King Monmouth, whose melancholy mood dissipated as if by magic. “By my faith, Colonel,” he said, “what you say is clear as day. Naturally, if we gain strength in the West and if my uncle is threatened with losing supporters somewhere, he will have no chance of holding out against us. If he wants to fight us on our own ground, he will have to strip the North, South, and East of troops, something that cannot be thought of. We can very well undertake the march on London by the Bristol road. ” “I think the advice is good,” remarked Lord Grey, “but I would like to know on what grounds Colonel Saxon says that Churchill and Feversham are on the way with three thousand regular infantry and several regiments of dragoons. ” “On the words of an officer of the Blues with whom I spoke at Salisbury,” replied Saxon. He confided in me, believing me to be a member of the Duke of Beaufort’s household. As for the cavalry, a troop of them pursued us across Salisbury Plain with mastiffs. Another attacked us within twenty miles of here, and lost about twenty men and a cornet. “We have heard of the affair,” said the King. “It was bravely fought. But if these people are so close, we have not much time for our preparations. ” “Their infantry cannot be here for a week,” said the Mayor, “and by then we would be on the other side of Bristol’s walls. ” “There is one point that might be pressed,” said Wade, the lawyer . “As Your Majesty very truly says, we have been sorely disappointed by the fact that no gentlemen, and very few leading members of the Commons, have declared for us.” The reason for this, in my opinion, is that each of them is waiting for his neighbor to make a move. If one or two came to us, the others would soon imitate them. How then are we to bring one or two Dukes under our standards? “That is the question, Master Wade,” said Monmouth, shaking his head despondently . “I believe it is possible,” replied the Whig lawyer. ” Mere proclamations addressed to the whole body of citizens will not catch these golden fish. They will not take the bait if there is no bait. I would recommend some kind of summons, an invitation sent to each of them, and requiring them to surrender to our camp, before a certain date, under pain of high treason. ” “Thus spoke the spirit of legal forms,” said King Monmouth, laughing. But you have omitted to tell us how the said summons or summons would be served on these same offenders. “The Duke of Beaufort,” Wade continued, without pausing at the King’s objection, ” is President of Wales, and, as Your Majesty knows, lieutenant of four English counties. His influence extends over the whole of the West. He has two hundred horses in his stables at Badminton, and, from what I have heard, a thousand men sit daily at his tables. Why should not a special attempt be made to win over such a personage, especially since we propose to march in his direction? ” “Unfortunately, Henry, Duke of Beaufort, is already in arms against his sovereign,” said Monmouth, with a gloomy air. “He is, Sire, but he can be persuaded to turn in your favor the army he has raised against you. He is a Protestant. He is said to be a Whig. Why should we not send him a message?” We would flatter his pride. We would appeal to his religion. We would caress him and threaten him. Who knows? He may have personal grievances of which we are unaware. He may be ripe for such a step. “Your advice is good, Wade,” said Lord Grey, “but I find that His Majesty has asked a very natural question. I fear that your messenger should swing from a rope on one of the oaks of Badminton, if the Duke wishes to display his loyalty to James Stuart. Where can we find a man both wise and bold enough for such a mission, without risking one of our leaders, whom we would be hard pressed to do without at such a time? “True,” replied Monmouth, “it would be better to renounce this adventure altogether than to attempt it in a clumsy and reluctant manner. Beaufort would believe it to be a plot whose aim was not to win him over, but to compromise him. But what is our giant at the gate trying to achieve with these signs he is making to us? ” “If it pleases Your Majesty,” I asked, “will you allow me to speak? ” “We are only too happy to listen to you, Captain,” he replied in a tone full of benevolence, “as long as your intelligence is proportionate to your strength, your opinion must have weight.” “Then, Your Majesty,” I said, “I would offer myself as a proper messenger to take charge of the matter. My father has commanded me to spare neither life nor limb in this quarrel, and if the honorable Council thinks the Duke can be won over, I am ready to guarantee that the message shall be delivered to him, if a man on horseback can accomplish the thing. ” “I declare that a better herald could not be chosen,” cried Saxon. ” This young man has cool blood and a heart of iron. ” “Then, young sir, we accept your valiant and loyal offer,” said Monmouth. “Are you agreed on this point, gentlemen?” A murmur of assent arose from the assembly. “You will write the letter, Wade. Offer him money, precedence in the order of Dukes, the presidency of Wales in perpetuity, whatever you like, if you think you can make him hesitate.” If not, sequestration, exile, eternal infamy. Then, listen to me carefully, you can attach a copy of the documents written by Van Brunow, proving my mother’s marriage, as well as the attestations of the witnesses. Have all this ready for tomorrow morning at daybreak, when the messenger can set out. “All this will be ready, Your Majesty,” said Wade. “In that case, gentlemen,” continued King Monmouth, “I can send you back to your posts. If anything new arises, I will call you together a second time to profit by your wisdom. We will stay here, with Sir Stephen Timewell’s permission, until the men are rested and the recruits enrolled. Then we will set out in the direction of Bristol, and see what sort of luck we have in the North. If Beaufort passes our way, all will be well. Farewell, my good friends, I have no need to recommend diligence and fidelity to you.” The Council rose at this dismissal of the King, and each one bowing before him filed out of the Hall of the Castle. Several of the members gathered around me to give me instructions about my journey, or advice on the course of action to take. “He is a man full of pride and insolence,” someone said. ” Speak to him humbly. Otherwise, he will not listen to your message and will have you chased from his presence with lashes. ” “No, no,” cried another, “he is sharp, but he likes a man who is a man. Speak to him honestly, frankly: it is more likely that he will listen to reason. ” “Speak to him as the Lord inspires you to do,” said a Puritan. “It is his message that you carry, as much as the King’s. ” “Try to draw him aside under some pretext,” said Buyse, “then hop! on your way, with your man across the saddle. Thunder and hail , that would be well played. ” “Leave him alone,” cried Saxon. “The fellow has as much sense as any of you: he’ll see which way the cat jumps. Come, friend, let’s get back to our men. ” “Really, I’m sorry to lose you,” he said, “while we’re We were making our way through the crowd of peasants and soldiers on the Castle lawn. Your company will miss you sorely. Lockarby must command two of them. If all goes well, you should be back in three or four days. I need not tell you that you are going into real danger. If the Duke wishes to prove to James that he does not intend to be seduced, he can only do so by punishing the messenger, and as lieutenant of the county, he has a right to do so in times of political agitation. He is a hard man, if the rumors are true. On the other hand, if you are lucky enough to succeed, it may be the foundation of your fortune, as well as the means of saving Monmouth. Ah! he needs help, by Lord Harry! I never saw a mob like his army. Buyse says they fought spiritedly at Axminster, but he agrees with me in declaring that a few cannon shots and a few cavalry charges will scatter them all over the country. Have you any messages to leave? “No, only to remind my mother of my affection. ” “Very well. If you fall foul of me, I will not forget His Grace the Duke of Beaufort, and the first of his gentlemen who falls into my hands will be hanged as high as Haman. And now you have nothing better to do than get to your room and sleep as well as you can, for your new mission begins tomorrow at cockcrow.” Chapter 7. News Received From Havant. Having given my orders for Covenant to be saddled and harnessed at daybreak the next day, I had gone to my chamber, and was preparing for a long night’s rest, when Sir Gervas, who slept in the same room, came dancing in, waving a bundle of papers above his head . “Three riddles, Clarke,” he cried. “What would you most desire ? ” “Letters from Havant,” I said quickly. “Right!” he answered, throwing them on my knees. “Here are three, and not one in a woman’s handwriting. I will be hanged if I understand what you have been doing all your life: How can a young heart renounce the love of woman, the sparkling wine? But you are so absorbed in your news that you have not noticed my transformation. ” “Ah! where did you get all this?” I asked, much astonished. He was dressed in a suit of a very delicate plum shade with gold buttons and trim, set off by silk breeches and Spanish shoes with roses on the instep. “It smells more of Court than of camp,” said Sir Gervas, rubbing his hands and looking over his person with much satisfaction. “I am also supplied with ratafia and orange-flower water. Besides
, I have two wigs, a short one and a gala one, a pound of the imperial snuff that is sold at the Black Man’s sign, a box of De Crépigny’s hair powder, my fox-skin muff , and several other indispensable things. But I am in your way in reading. ” “I have seen enough to be assured that all is well at home,” I replied, glancing at my father’s letter. “But how did all these things come about?” “Cavaliers came from Petersfield and brought them.” As for my little box, filled by a good friend I have in the city, it was sent to Bristol, where I am supposed to be at present, and where I would indeed be if I had not had the good fortune to meet your company. The box nevertheless found a way to arrive at the Bruton Inn, and the good woman who runs it, whom I have made a friend of , managed to get it to me. It is a useful rule to follow , Clarke, on this earthly pilgrimage: one must always kiss the innkeeper. It may be a small thing, but in After all, life is made up of little things. I have few fixed principles, I fear, but there are two I can flatter myself I never violate. I am always provided with a corkscrew, and I never fail to kiss the landlady. “From what I have seen of you,” I said, laughing, “I could vouch for the fact that these two duties are always performed. ” “I have letters too,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking over a roll of papers. “Your heartbroken Araminte. Hmm! the damsel must not know I am ruined. Otherwise her heart would soon be mended… What is this? A challenge to make my cock Julius fight against Lord Dorchester’s young cock, at stake 100 guineas.” By my faith, I have too much to do supporting the Monmouth bird for the championship stakes… Another invites me to a deer hunt at Epping… Good heavens, if I hadn’t won at sea, I’d see myself at bay, with a pack of bailiffs’ mastiffs at my heels… A letter in which my draper demands his due. He can bear the loss. I’ve paid him many a long bill… An offer of three thousand pounds from little Dicky Chichester! No, no, Dicky, not that. A gentleman ought not to live off his friends. One is none the less very grateful for it… What is it now? From Mrs. Butterworth. No money for three weeks: furnishers in the house! No, curses, that’s too much! “What is it?” I asked, interrupting the reading of my own letters. The baronet’s pale face had taken on a slight color, and he paced the room with a furious air, a crumpled letter in his hand. “It’s an abominable shame, Clarke,” he cried. “By the rope, she ‘ll have my watch, which comes from Tompion’s, at the sign of the Three Crowns, in St. Paul’s Court, and cost a hundred pounds brand new ! It may support her for a few months… For that, Mortimer will have to measure himself at the sword with me. I’ll write the word villain on him with the point of my rapier. ” “I’ve never seen you angry until now,” I said. “No,” he replied, laughing. “Many people have associated with me for years and would give me a certificate of equanimity. But this is too strong. Sir Edward Mortimer is my mother’s younger brother, but he is not my elder by much.” A decent young man, dressed to the nines, with a soft voice, that’s what he always was. As a result, he has succeeded in the world, and joined lands to lands, according to the language of Scripture. In the old days, I helped him with my purse, but he soon became richer than I, for he kept all he earned. I, on the contrary, everything I earned… Bah! it dissipated like the smoke from the pipe you are lighting now. When I found there was nothing left, I received from Mortimer a loan which was sufficient to enable me to go to Virginia, as I desired, and to purchase a horse and equipment. Fortune might turn out in such a way, Clarke, that the Jerome estates would revert to him, if an accident happened to me. So he saw no objection to my going to the land of fevers and scalping knives. No, don’t shake your head, my dear countryman, you know little of the world’s malice. “Give him credit, until the worst is proven,” I said, sitting up on the bed, and smoking, my letters spread out before me. “The worst is proven,” said Sir Gervas, whose face darkened. ” As I have said, I have rendered Mortimer some services, which he ought well to have remembered, though I do not think it proper to remind him of them. This Mrs. Butterworth was my nurse, and my family used to provide for her. I could not to do with the idea that the ruin of my fortune would make him lose one or two poor guineas a week, his only resource against hunger. I therefore asked Mortimer for one thing only, in the name of our old friendship, and that was to continue this alms. I promised him that if I succeeded, I would repay him in full. This base-hearted villain shook my hand warmly and swore to do it. How vile is human nature , Clarke! For this miserable sum, he, a rich man, has failed in his engagement. He has abandoned this poor woman to death by hunger. But he will pay me for it. He thinks I am on the Atlantic. If I march on London with these good lads, I shall disturb the harmony of his pious existence until this day… I will be content with the sundials, and my watch will go into the hands of Mother Butterworth. Blessed be her ample breasts! I have tasted many liquids, but I would willingly wager that the first of all was the most salutary. Well? And your letters? You have had frowns and smiles like an April day. “Here is one from my father, to which my mother has added a note,” I said. ” The second is from an old friend of mine, Zacharie Palmer, the village carpenter. The third is from Solomon Sprent, a retired sailor, for whom I have affection and respect. ” “That is a rare trio of news-bearers, Clarke. I should like to know your father. From what you say, he must be a solid block of English oak. I was saying, only a moment ago, that you knew little of the world, but truly it may be that in your village humanity is seen unvarnished, and thus one comes to see the better side of human nature. Varnish or no varnish, the bad always comes to light in the end.” Now, without a doubt, this carpenter and this sailor show themselves as they are. One can know, for the whole duration of one’s life, my friends at court without ever penetrating to their real nature, and perhaps one would also find oneself poorly rewarded for this search. Plague! now I become a philosopher, which has always been the refuge of the ruined man. Give me a barrel, I will put it in the Piazza of Covent Garden, and I will be the Diogenes of London. I do not ask to become rich again, Micah! What then does the old verse say: Our money will not be our master, Nor drag us to Goldsmith Hall. Neither pirates nor shipwrecks can frighten us, We who own no estates, Who fear neither pillage nor taxes, Who have no need to lock our doors. When we are on land, we no longer risk falling. This last verse would make a pretty motto for a beggar’s asylum. “You’ll wake Sir Stephen, ” I said, to put him on his guard , for he was singing at the top of his voice. “No danger. He and his apprentices were practicing their swords in the hall when I crossed it. It’s a sight worth seeing . The old man stamping his feet, brandishing his weapon, and crying “Ha!” as he lowered it. Mistress Ruth and friend Lockarby are in the tapestry room. She is spinning, and he is reading aloud one of those diverting works she would have liked me to read. I think she has undertaken to convert him, and it may end in this: that he is the one who will convert her from a girl to a married woman. So you are going to find the Duke of Beaufort! Well, I should be delighted to make the journey with you, but Saxon will not hear of it, and I must first attend to my musketeers. May God bring you back safe and sound!” Where are my jasmine powder and my fly-box? Read me your letters, if there is anything interesting. I broke the neck of a bottle at the inn, in company with our gallant colonel, and he told me enough about your home at Havant to make me wish to know it better. “It’s a rather serious home,” I said. “No, my mind is set on serious matters. Go ahead, even if it contains all of Plato’s philosophy. ” “This is from the venerable carpenter who has been my advisor and friend for many years. This man is religious without being sectarian, philosophical without being attached to a party, affectionate without weakness. ” “A model, truly,” cried Sir Gervas, busy handling his eyebrow brush. “This is what he says,” I continued. Then I began to read the very letter I am now transcribing to you: ” Having learned from your father, my dear boy, that there was some possibility of sending you a letter, I wrote this one, which I send you by the care of the worthy John Packingham, of Chichester, who is now leaving for the West. I hope you are safe and sound with Monmouth’s army, and that you have obtained an honorable employment there.” I am certain that you will find among your comrades a certain number of excessive sectarians, as well as others who are scoffers and unbelievers. Follow my advice, friend, distance yourself from both. For the fanatic is the man who does not confine himself to defending the liberty of his own religion, which would only be just, but still wants to impose himself on the conscience of others, and thereby falls into the same error against which he fights. On the other hand, the simple brainless scoffer is inferior to the beast of the field, for he lacks the instinctive self-respect and humble resignation… “By my faith,” cried the baronet, “the old gentleman has a rather rough side of the tongue. Let us take religion by its broadest base, for truth has more breadth than we are capable of conceiving.” The presence of a table proves the existence of a carpenter, and likewise the presence of the universe proves that of a being who made the universe, whatever name we give it. Up to this point you have very firm ground under your feet, without any need for inspiration, teaching, or any help. Therefore, since an author of the universe must arrive there, let us judge his nature by his work. We cannot observe the glories of the firmament, its infinite extent, its beauty, and the divine art with which it has provided for the needs of all plants, all animals, and not see that it is full of wisdom, intelligence, and power. We are still here, you will recognize, on solid ground, without needing to call for our aid anything other than pure reason. When we have reached this point, let us ask ourselves for what purpose the universe was made and for what purpose we were placed there. All nature teaches us that it must be for our sake to perfect ourselves, to strive higher, to grow in true virtue, in knowledge, in wisdom. Nature is a silent preacher who makes himself heard on weekdays as well as on the Sabbath. We see the acorn grow into an oak, the egg produce the bird, the caterpillar become a butterfly. From then on, will we doubt that the human soul, the most precious of all things , is also on the upward road. And how can the soul make progress except by cultivating virtue and self-control? Can there be any other way? There is none. Thus, we can say with confidence that we are placed here below to grow in knowledge and virtue. This is the inner essence of religion, and to go so far, there is no need of faith. This is as true and as susceptible of demonstration as any of the exercises of Euclid that we have studied together. On this common ground, men have erected many different edifices. Christianity, the religion of Mohammed, the belief of the Orientals, all have the same substance. Diversities are found in forms and details. Let us hold to our Christian faith, the doctrine of love, that which is so beautiful, which has been often taught, and rarely put into practice, but let us not despise our fellow men, for we are all branches arising from the same root, the truth. Man leaves darkness for light: he spends some time there, then he returns to darkness. Micah, my boy, the days pass, for me as for you. Let them not pass in pure waste! Their number is very small. What does Petrarch say?: To him who enters it, life seems infinity; to him who leaves it, nothingness. Let each day, each hour be employed in seconding the designs of the Creator, in putting into operation all the powers of good that are in What is pain, labor, sorrow? It is the cloud that passes before the sun. That which is all, is the result of the work well done. It is eternal; it lives and increases from century to century. Do not stop to rest. Rest will come when the hour of work is over. May God protect and keep you! There is not much new. The garrison of Portsmouth has gone west. Sir John Lawson, the magistrate, has come here and made threats to your father and others, but he can do little for lack of proof. The Church and the Dissenters are at each other’s throats, as ever. Truly the austere Law of Moses reigns longer than the sweet words of Christ. Farewell, my dear boy, receive the best wishes of your grizzled-headed friend. ZECHARIAH PALMER –Raven! cried Sir Gervas, while I was folding the letter, I have heard Stillingfleet and Tenison, but I never listened to a better sermon. This is a bishop disguised as a carpenter. But let us see our friend the sailor. Is he a theologian in law, a doctor of canon law among sea dogs? “Solomon Sprent is quite a different character, though very good in his way,” I said, “but you shall judge of him by his letter. ” “Master Clarke. The last time we were in company, I ran under the batteries, on clearance duty, while you remained offshore and waited for the signals. Having stopped to mend and examine my prize, which happened to be in good condition as to rigging and timbers— ” “What the devil does he mean?” asked Sir Gervas. “It is a damsel he speaks of, Phoebe Dawson, the blacksmith’s sister. He has been for more than forty years almost without setting foot on dry land. So he speaks in this maritime jargon, while he imagines he speaks as pure English as any man in Hampshire. ” “Then go on,” said the baronet. Having read him the regulations of war, I explained to him the conditions under which we were to sail together on the voyage of life, namely: First: she will obey the signals without question, as soon as they are received. Second: she will steer according to my calculation. Third: she will support me as a faithful ship in convoy, whether the weather is bad, or in battle, or in shipwreck. Fourth: she will take shelter under my cannons, in case of attack by bandits, corsairs, or coastguards. Fifth: I will have to keep her in good condition, put her in dry dock from time to time, and see that she is well repainted, supplied with sides, and muslin, as is appropriate for a pretty pleasure vessel. Sixth: I will refrain from towing any other boat, and if one is found moored to me at the moment, I will cut the mooring lines. Seventh: I will have to refuel it every day. Eighth: if by chance she should take on a leak, or be stranded and trapped in a sandbank, I shall have to support her, empty her with the pump, and right her. Ninth: to hoist the Protestant flag at the head of the mainmast during the passage of life, and to plot our course towards the great harbor, with the hope of finding a mooring and a suitable bottom to drop anchor, for two ships of English construction, when they are laid up for eternity. The eighth stroke of the twelve o’clock watch was about to sound when these articles were signed and sealed. Then, when I swooped down on you, I did not so much as see the end of our topsail. Soon after, I learned that you had left to serve as a soldier, in the company of that gaunt, gangly vessel, with long spars, with the air of a privateer, which I had seen a few days before in the village. I think you didn’t behave too well towards me, leaving without even saluting me with your flag. But perhaps the tide was favorable, and you couldn’t wait. If I hadn’t been afflicted with a makeshift mast, one of my spars cut away, I would have had the greatest pleasure in girding on my boarding cutlass and still smelling of gunpowder. And I would do it again, despite my wooden leg and the rest, if it weren’t for my companion ship, which might complain of the violation of the contract and then slip away. I must follow the fire from her stern until the day we are legally united. Farewell, sailor! In action, follow the advice of an old sailor, keep to the wind, and board! Tell that to your admiral on the day of battle. Say it quietly, in his ear. Tell him: keep to the wind and go for it: board. Tell him, too, that he strikes quickly, that he strikes hard, that he strikes always. Thus spoke Christopher Minga, and never was a better man put to sea, though he had to climb through the hawser . Yours and at your command. SOLOMON SPRENT During the whole reading of this epistle, Sir Gervas had done nothing but laugh within himself, but the last part made us laugh out loud. “Whether he is on land or on board, he insists that every battle should be a naval fight,” said the baronet. “You should have had this wise advice to offer at the meeting called today by Monmouth. If ever he asks your opinion, tell him: Keep the windward and board! ” “I must sleep,” I said, laying down my pipe. “I must be on my way at daybreak. ” “No, I beg you, crown your kindness by allowing me a glimpse of your respectable father, the Roundhead. ” “It is only a few lines,” I replied. “He has always been brief in his language, but since they interest you, I will read it to you: I send you this, my dear son, by a pious man, to say that I hope you are behaving as becomes you. In all difficulties and dangers, do not rely on yourself, but invoke help from above. If you exercise a command, teach your men to sing psalms as they draw up for battle, according to the good old custom. In action, use the point rather than the edge. A thrust should parry a cut. Your mother and the others send you their affection. Sir John Lawson has circled around here like a hungry wolf, but he could find no evidence against me.” John Marchbank of Bedhampton has been imprisoned. Truly the Antichrist rules the land, but the kingdom of light is at hand. Strike with gusto for truth and conscience. Your affectionate father, JOSEPH CLARKE Postscript from my mother: I hope you remember what I told you about your drawers and also the broad canvas collars, which you will find in the bag. It is not much more than a week since you left, and yet it seems like a year. When you are cold or wet, take ten drops of Daffy’s elixir in a small glass of brandy. If your feet sting, rub the inside of your boots with tallow . Remind Master Saxon of me, and Master Lockarby, if he is with you. Her father was in a mad rage at her going away, for he had a great quantity of ale to brew and no one to watch the fermenting vat. Ruth baked a cake, but the oven played a trick on her, and the inside remained a soggy dough. A thousand kisses, dear heart, from your loving mother. MC –A sensible pair of people, said Sir Gervas, who, after finishing his toilet, had gone to bed. Now I begin to understand how you are made, Clarke. I see the threads that were used to weave you. Your father looks after your spiritual needs; your mother concerns herself with material ones. But I think the old carpenter’s preaching is more to your taste. You are a vile latitudinarian, my man. Sir Stephen would cry out against you and Joshua Pettigrue would disown you. Well! let us put out the light, for we must both be on the move at cockcrow. That is our religion for the moment. –That of the early Christians, I suggested. At which we both laughed. Then we fell asleep. Chapter 8. The Trap Set on the Weston Road. Immediately after sunrise, I was awakened by one of the Mayor’s servants, who informed me that the honorable Master Wade was waiting for me downstairs. Having risen and dressed, I found him seated at the parlor table, with some papers and a box of sealing cakes, and busy sealing the missive I was to carry. He was a short, aged man, with a pale face, standing very erect, brusque in his speech, and whose appearance suggested a soldier rather than a lawyer. “There,” he said, pressing the seal to the wax that covered the knot of the cord. “I see your horse is waiting for you, fully saddled, outside. You will do well to go by way of Nether le Bas and the Bristol Channel, for we have learned that the enemy’s cavalry are guarding the roads as far as Wells. Here is your parcel.” I bowed and placed the envelope inside my tunic. “It is a written order, as proposed in the council. The Duke will perhaps reply in writing, perhaps orally. In either case, keep his reply safe. The packet also contains the depositions of the clergyman from The Hague, and those of the two witnesses present at the marriage of Charles of England to Lucy Walters, Her Majesty’s mother. Your mission is of such importance that the success of our enterprise may depend entirely on it. See that you deliver the paper to Beaufort himself. Otherwise, it might have no value in a court of law. I promised to do so, if possible. ” “I would also urge you,” he continued, “to take the saber and pistol to protect yourself against the dangers of the road, but to leave here the helmet and breastplate, which would give you too warlike a figure for a peaceful messenger. ” “I had already made up my mind,” I said. “There is nothing more to add, Captain,” said the lawyer, holding out his hand. May good fortune attend you! Keep your tongue silent and your ear alert. Watch carefully for everything that happens. Consider carefully which people will look gloomy or happy. It may be that the Duke is in Bristol, but he is preferable that you go to his residence at Badminton. Our password today is Tewkesbury. After thanking my instructor for his advice, I went out and mounted Covenant, who stamped the ground and champed at the bit, full of joy at his new journey. Very few townspeople were outside, but more than one head in a nightcap looked at me in astonishment from the window. I took the precaution of making Covenant walk with as little noise as possible, until we were a good distance from the house, for I had not said a word to Reuben about my proposed journey. I was convinced that if he were informed, neither discipline nor even the brand-new chains of his love could prevent him from going with me. Despite my attention, Covenant’s irons made a clear sound on the pebbles, but turning around, I saw that the blinds remained lowered in my faithful friend’s room, and that all seemed quiet in the house. So I shook my bridle and set off at a rapid trot, through the silent streets, still strewn with faded flowers, still brightened with ribbons. At the north gate was on guard a half company, which let me cross the wall as soon as I had pronounced the password. As soon as I was outside the ancient walls, I found myself in the open countryside, facing north, and the road clear before me. It was a superb morning. The sun was rising above its distant hills. Sky and earth took on hues of rust and gold. The trees of the orchards, which bordered the road, were populated by innumerable birds which chattered, sang, and filled the air with their shrill warbling. There was something in every breath that made you lighter , more joyful. The red Somerset cattle with their curious eyes ranged themselves along the hedges, casting long shadows over the fields, and looked at me as I passed. Farm horses put their heads over the open gates and neighed as if to greet their glossy-coated brother . A large flock of snow-fleeced sheep came down the slope of a hill towards us and began to skip and frolic in the sunshine. Everything was innocent life, from the lark that sang in the air to the tiny shrew that ran among the ripening corn, to the swift that took off at the sound of my approach. Everywhere, life, in its innocence. What should we think, my dear children, when we see the beasts of the field full of benevolence, virtue, and gratitude? Where is this superiority of which we speak! On the commanding ground rising to the north, I turned to look down upon the sleeping town, with its broad border of tents and wagons, which plainly showed how suddenly its population had increased. The royal standard still fluttered from the steeple of St. Magdalen, while the fine symmetrical steeple of St. James held high the blue flag of Monmouth. As I gazed upon them, the brisk, boisterous roll of a drum was heard in the morning air, together with the clear, vibrant call of trumpets, rousing the troops from their slumber. Far off, and on both sides of the town, a magnificent prospect spread across the hills of Somerset, rolling down to the distant sea, peopled with towns, hamlets, turreted castles, steeples, with wooded coves, and stretches of cornfields, a sight as beautiful as the eye could desire. When I had turned my horse around to resume my journey, I felt, my dear children, that such a country was worth fighting for and that a man’s life was of very little value, as long as he could contribute, however little, to ensuring its freedom and happiness. In a small village on the other side of the height, I met a cavalry post whose commander accompanied me for some time on horseback and put me on the road to Stowey -le-Bas. My native Hampshire eyes were astonished to notice the uniform red color of the soil in this region, which is very different from the limestone and gravel of Havant. The cows are also mostly red. The cottages are not built of brick or wood, but of a kind of rammed earth called cob, which retains its solidity and smoothness as long as it has not been wetted. Consequently, the walls are protected against the rain by means of thatched roofs which project considerably. There is hardly a bell tower in this whole region, something which again seems strange to the inhabitants of other parts of England. All the churches have a square tower, with pinnacles at the corners. The towers are almost always very large and contain very beautiful carillons. The road I was to follow ran along the base of the beautiful Quantock Hills , where densely forested coves are scattered among vast downs, covered with heather and a thick carpet of bracken and bilberry. On either side of the path ran winding ravines bordered by yellow gorse, which burst forth from the thick red earth like a flame from hot ashes. Streams of peat-colored water roared down from these glens and over the road. Covenant would plunge into them as far as the pastures and would have movements of surprise, seeing broad-backed trout dart like arrows between his forefeet. I traveled for a whole day through this beautiful country, where I met few people, for I kept away from the highways. A few shepherds and farmers, a long-legged clergyman, a pedlar with his mule, a horseman carrying a large satchel, who struck me as a scalper, that is all I can remember. A black half-pint jug of ale and a crust of bread at an inn near the road, that was my only meal. Near Combwich, Covenant lost an iron, and I had to waste two hours in the town before I found a forge and could have the accident remedied. It was only in the evening that I finally arrived on the banks of the Bristol Channel, at a place called the Shurton Bars, where the muddy waters of the Parret empty into the sea. At this point, the channel is so wide that the Welsh mountains are scarcely distinguishable . The shore is flat, black, muddy, dotted here and there with white spots that are seabirds, but further on, towards the east, rises a line of very wild, very steep hills, which in certain places rise up like sheer walls. These cliffs run towards the sea, and the intervals left by their notches form a large number of small ports, bays that are dry for half the day, but capable of carrying a good-sized boat, as soon as the tide is at half. The road followed these bare and rocky ridges, inhabited by a sparse population of fishermen and fierce shepherds. They came to the threshold of their huts when they heard the clanging of my horse’s shoes, and as they passed by, they threw me one of the crude jokes that are current in the West. As night approached, the country became sadder and more deserted. At rare intervals a distant light flickered from a solitary cottage on the hillside. It was the only sign of man’s presence. The rough path drew nearer to the sea, but despite its elevation, the spray from the breakers washed over it. My lips were dusted with salt. The air was full of the hoarse roar of the swell, the thin whistle of curlews, which skimmed past me in their flight, like creatures of the other world, white, vague, with a melancholy voice. The wind blew in short, sharp, angry gusts from the West. Far away, over the black waters, a single luminous point could be seen, rising, falling, oscillating, then disappearing from sight, which indicated the violence of the storm that had broken out on the canal. As I rode in the twilight through this strange and dark landscape, my mind naturally turned to the past. I thought of my father, my mother, the old carpenter, Solomon Sprent. Then my thoughts turned to Decimus Saxon, whose many-faced character offered as many subjects of admiration as subjects of horror. Did I love him, did I not love him? It was more than I could say. After him, I remembered my faithful Reuben, and his love affair with the pretty Puritan woman, to think then of Sir Gervas and the wreck of his fortunes. From there my mind returned to the state of the army, and the future of the rebellion, which brought me back to my present mission, its perils and difficulties. Having turned over all these things in my mind, I began to doze off on my horse’s back. I was succumbing to the fatigue of the journey and the drowsy cantilena of the waves. I had just begun a dream in which I saw Reuben Lockarby crowned King of England by Mistress Ruth Timewell, while Decimus Saxon was preparing to discharge his pistol at him, stuffed with a flask of Daffy’s elixir, when suddenly, without warning, I was violently thrown from my horse, and found myself lying half- swooning on the stony path. I was so stunned, so shaken by this unexpected fall, that I remained for several minutes unable to understand where I was or what had happened to me, although I vaguely glimpsed people bending over me and hoarse laughter rang in my ears. When at last I made an effort to get to my feet, I noticed that a rope had been passed around my arms and legs, so as to render them immobile. With a violent effort, I managed to free one hand and threw it in the face of one of the men who held me, but immediately the whole gang, at least a dozen, threw themselves on me. Some were punching or kicking me. Others were tightening another rope around my elbows and knotting it so skillfully that I was completely helpless. Perceiving that in my weak and dazed state all my efforts would be in vain, I lay in a grumpy silence, but with my eyes on the watch, without taking notice of the new blows that were falling upon me. It was so dark that it was impossible for me to see the faces of my assailants, nor to form the slightest supposition as to what they might be, or how they had made me fall from my saddle. The noise of a horse champing at the bit and stamping nearby informed me that Covenant was a prisoner, as well as his master.
“Pete the Dutchman has taken as much as he can bear,” said a harsh, hoarse voice. “He lies on the road as inert as a conger eel. ” “Ah! Poor Pete!” said another in a low voice. “He will never touch another card; he will never empty his glass of brandy again.” “You’re lying about that, my good friend,” said the stricken man, in a weak, quavering voice, “and I’ll prove you’re lying if you have a flask in your pocket. ” “Even if Pete were dead and buried,” said the one who had spoken first, “the word brandy would be enough to bring him back. Give him a sip from your bottle, Dicon.” There was a gurgling, gulping sound in the darkness, followed by a sharp intake of breath from the drinker. “Gott sei gelobt!” he cried in a more strong. I have seen more stars than have been made. If my head had not been well strapped, he would have demolished it like a badly tied barrel. He has a punch that is worth a horse’s kick. As he spoke, the rim of the moon showed itself over a bluff and threw a flood of cold, clear light upon the scene. Looking up, I saw that a thick rope had been stretched across the road, from one tree trunk to another, at a height of about eight feet above the ground. I could not have noticed it in the darkness, even if I had been wide awake, but as it met me at breast level , as Covenant trotted by underneath, it stopped me suddenly and threw me to the ground with great violence. Either from the fall or from the blows I received, I had deep cuts, so that I could feel the blood running in a hot layer over my ear and neck. Nevertheless, I made no attempt to move. I waited in silence to see who the people were into whose hands I had fallen. I feared only one thing: that my letters would be taken from me and that my mission would no longer have any purpose. At the mere thought of being disarmed without a fight and losing the papers entrusted to me, and this the first time I had been entrusted with such a task, my blood rushed to my face, so ashamed was I. The band that had captured me was composed of fellows with unkempt beards, wearing fur caps, dressed in fustian jackets, with buffalo belts from which short, straight swords were hung . Their tanned, sun-tanned faces and their long boots showed that they were fishermen or sailors, and one might have guessed it from their rough maritime language. Two of them were kneeling on either side of me with their hands on my arms. A third was standing behind with a cocked pistol, while the others, seven or eight in number, were helping to get back on their feet the man I had struck, who was bleeding profusely from a gash above his eye. “Take the horse to Father Microft,” said a stocky man with a black beard, who appeared to be their leader. “He’s not a nag hired for a dragoon, but a fine beast, in all his strength, which will sell for at least sixty pieces. With your share, Pete, you’ll have enough to buy ointment and plasters for your wound. ” “Ha! dog!” cried the Dutchman, shaking his fist at me. You’d like to fall on Peter, wouldn’t you? You’d like to bleed Peter, wouldn’t you? A thousand devils, my man, if you and I were together on the mountaintop, we’d see which was the strongest . “Get your chattering machine going, Pete,” growled one of his comrades. ” That fellow is, of course, a member of Satan, and he exercises a profession that only a low-souled, groveling scoundrel, a low- born rogue, is capable of embracing. And yet, I warrant you, just by the look of him, he’d flog you like a grouse if he laid his big hands on you. And you’d cry for help, as you did last Martin’s Day, when you mistook Dick the cooper’s wife for an exciseman. ” “Flog me, wouldn’t you? Death and hell!” shouted the other, whose wound and brandy had sent him into a mad rage. We’ll see, catch that, you devil’s spawn, catch that. And running to me, he kicked me with all his might, with his heavy sailor boots. Some of the gang laughed, but the man who had spoken first gave the Dutchman a push that made him spin around .
“None of that!” he said harshly. “On English soil, we fight fairly in the English way. None of your nasty tricks from the continent. It’s not Not me, who will stand by and watch an Englishman being kicked by the son of an Amsterdam prostitute, a barrel-bellied , schnapps-licking, chicken-hearted fellow. Hang him, if the skipper pleases! All this will happen on board, in the open, but, by thunder, you’ll have a battle if you touch that man again. “Easy, Dicon,” said their chief, in a conciliatory voice, “we all know Pete’s no match for a fight, but he’s the best cooper on the coast. Hey! Pete! He’s got no equal for making a stave, for hooping, for assembling. Give him a plank, and he ‘ll have made a barrel out of it, while someone else is wondering how to do it. ” ” Ah!” “You remember that, Captain Murgatroyd,” said the Dutchman sullenly, “but you watch me knock, beat, and mock, and insult, and what do they do for me? I swear to you, when the Maria returns to the Texel, I will return to my old trade, I answer for it, and I will never set foot on board her again. ” “No danger!” replied the Captain, laughing. “As long as the Maria collects her five thousand gold pieces and is able to show her heels to any cutter on the coast, there is no fear that that greedy Pete will lose his share of the winnings.” What, friend, if this goes on, you’ll be rich enough in a year or two to set up a shack of your own, with a well-mown lawn in front, trees trimmed into the shape of peacocks, flowers forming a pattern, a canal by the door, and a big, lively housekeeper, just as if you were a burgomaster! He’s made more than one fortune, thanks to Malines and cognac. “Yes, and thanks to Malines and cognac, there’s been more than one head broken,” my enemy growled. “Thunder! There are other things to consider besides shacks and flowerbeds. There are coasts that give gales, and northwest storms, and the police, and the spies. –And it is precisely in this way that the skillful sailor prevails over the herring fisherman, or the timid-looking coaster, who takes so much trouble from one Christmas to the next, who risks all dangers and has none of these small profits. But enough talk! Let’s go with the prisoner, and put him in safety with the fetters on his feet! I was put back on my feet, and sometimes carried, sometimes dragged into the middle of the group. My horse had already been led in the opposite direction. Our route deviated from the road, to descend through a very rocky, very rugged ravine which sloped down to the sea. There seemed to be no trace of a path. I could only walk with an uncertain step, stumbling over stones and bushes, as best I could, chained and helpless as I was.
But the blood had dried on my wounds, and the fresh sea breeze , which played on my brow, restored my strength, which allowed me to form a clearer idea of my situation. From what they were saying, it was evident that these men were smugglers. Therefore, they could not feel any strong sympathy for the government, nor wish to support King James in any way .
It was probable, on the contrary, that they were inclined towards Monmouth. Indeed, had I not seen, the day before, an entire regiment of foot of his army, which had been raised among the people of the coast. On the other hand, it was possible that their greed would prevail over their loyalty and decide them to hand me over to justice, in the hope of a reward. All things considered, it was better, in my opinion, to say nothing of my mission and to keep my papers hidden as long as possible. But I couldn’t help wondering, as I was being dragged away, what motive had driven these people to wait for me in ambush, as they had done. The road I had taken was very remote, and yet a good many of the travelers who went from the West to Bristol, by Weston, had to take it. The band could not be occupied all the time guarding it. Therefore, why had they set this trap that night? Smugglers, people without fear of the law, people determined to do anything, did not generally stoop to the role of thieves on foot, of brigands. As long as no one interfered in their affairs, it was rare that they were the first to cause trouble. So, why had they watched me, I who had never done them any harm? Could it be that I had been denounced to them? I continued to turn these questions over and over in my mind, when everyone stopped. The captain gave a piercing blast, by means of a whistle which he wore hanging from his neck. The spot where we stood was the darkest and most rugged in all this wild gorge. On both sides rose great escarpments, which drew together above our heads in a vault whose edges were fringed with heather and gorse, so that the black sky and the twinkling stars were almost hidden. Large black rocks appeared dimly in the indecisive light, and before us a high tangle of something resembling brushwood barred our way. But at a second whistle, a point of light was seen through the branches, and the whole mass parted to one side as if it had turned on a pivot. On the other side was a dark and crooked passage, opened in the hillside. We descended this way, stooping, for the vault of rocks was not very high. On either side resounded the rhythmic sound of the sea. After passing through the entrance, which must have been cut with great labor through the solid rock, we entered a lofty and spacious cavern, lit at one end by a fire and several torches. Judging by their yellow and smoky glow, I could see that the roof was at least fifty feet above us, and that on all sides hung limestone crystals, sparkling with the brightest brilliance . The floor of the cavern was composed of fine sand, as soft and velvety as a Wilton carpet, and forming a gentle slope. This proved that the opening of the cavern must give on the sea; a supposition confirmed by the dull noise and splashing of the waves, by the freshness and saltiness of the air which filled the whole cave. But I did not see the water, for a sudden change of direction hid the exit from my view. In this open space, within the rocks, which might have been sixty paces long and thirty wide, were piled up great piles of barrels, casks, crates, and muskets. Cutlasses, sticks, cudgels, and straw were scattered on the ground. At one end blazed a wood fire, which cast strange shadows on the walls and was reflected in thousands of sparks like diamonds on the crystals of the vault. The smoke issued through a large crack among the rocks. Seven or eight other members of the band, some seated on crates, others stretched out on the sand around the fire, rose promptly and went to meet us as we entered. “Have you caught him?” they cried. “Did he really come? Was he accompanied? ” “Here he is, and he is alone,” replied the captain. Our cable took him down from his horse as cleanly as a seagull is caught in a net by a cliff climber. What have you been doing in our absence, Silas? “We’ve been preparing the bales for transport,” replied the man called, a sturdy, tanned, middle-aged sailor. “The silk and lace are packed in these square crates covered with sacking. I marked one with the word: drag, and the other, jute; there are a thousand Malines, and a hundred brilliants. This will be counterweighted on the back of a mule. The brandy, the schnapps, the seniedam, the golden water of Hamburg, everything is arranged in good order. The tobacco is in the flat crates over there on the side of the Black Hole. This is a task that gave us a lot of trouble, but finally it took the form of a stowage. The lugger floats like a colander, and it has just enough ballast to keep upright in a five-knot breeze. –Have we seen any sign of the Fairy Queen? –None. Big John is over there, at the water’s edge, watching for his fires. This wind should bring her in, if she had rounded the Pointe de la Combe Martin. A sail was seen about ten miles east-northeast towards sunset . It may be a schooner from Bristol. It may also be one of the king’s ships, a riverboat. “A snailboat,” said Captain Murgatroyd, with a sneering air. ” We can’t hang the man from the Excise before Venables brings in the Fairy Queen, for, after all, it was one of his crew who bailed. Let him do his own dirty work! ” “A thousand lightning bolts!” cried the rascal of a Dutchman. “Wouldn’t it be a gallant way to welcome Captain Venables to send the customs officer through the Black Hole before he arrives? He may have some other work to do for us another day. ” “Eh! My friend, is it you or I who’s in charge here?” said the chief, in an irritated voice. Bring the prisoner before this fire! Now hear me, you land-shark dog, you are as sure to die as if you were already lying in the coffin, with the candles lit. Look this way. With that he took a torch, and with its red light, showed a wide cleft running through the ground at the other end of the tunnel. “You will be able to judge the depth of the Black Hole,” he said, taking an empty barrel and throwing it into the yawning chasm. We listened in silence for ten seconds before a distant, dull sound of something breaking told us that he had reached the bottom. “That will carry him halfway to hell, before his breath leaves him,” said one of them. “It is a kinder death than on the gallows at Devizes,” said another. “No, he must go to the gallows first,” cried a third. It’s only his burial we’re arranging. “He hasn’t opened his mouth since we took him,” said the man they called Dicon. “So he’s mute? Find your tongue, my fine fellow, and tell us your name. It would have been better for you to have been born mute, for you could not have taken an oath that caused our comrade’s death. ” “I was waiting to be questioned politely after all this yelling and insulting,” I said. “My name is Micah Clarke. Now, please tell me who you can be, and what right you have to stop peaceful travelers on the public highway. ” “Our right is this,” replied Murgatroyd, putting his hand on the hilt of his cutlass. “As for what we are, you already know .” Your name is not Clarke, but Westhouse or Waterhouse, and you are the same, the cursed Exciseman who caught our poor comrade the cooper Dick, and whose oath caused his death at Ilchester. “I swear you are mistaken,” I replied. “I have never been to that country in my life! ” “Fine words? Fine words!” cried another smuggler. ” Exciseman or no, you will have to make the leap, since you know the secret of our underground passage. ” “Your secret is in no danger with me,” I replied, “but if you want to put me to death, I will accept my fate as a Soldier.
I would have preferred to die on the field of battle rather than be at the mercy of such a pack of water rats in their burrow. “By my faith,” said Murgatroyd, “that is too proud a language to be that of a man of the Excise. Besides, he has the attitude of a true soldier. It is possible that in setting a trap for the owl, we might have caught the hawk. And yet we knew for a fact that it would pass that way, and mounted on a horse just like it. ” “Bring in Big John!” suggested the Dutchman. “I wouldn’t give a quid of Trinity tobacco for the rascal’s word. Big John was with Dick the cooper when he was taken. ” “Yes,” growled Seaman Silas, “he received a gash on the arm from the clerk’s knife. If anyone knows him by his face, it will be him.
” “Let him be called then!” Soon a tall, lanky fellow, who was on guard, arrived from the entrance to the tunnel. He had a red handkerchief around his forehead and a blue sweater, the sleeve of which he slowly rolled up as he approached. “Where is Clerk Westhouse?” he cried. “He left his mark on my arm. By my word, it’s hardly healed. This time the sun is on the side of the wall where we are, the clerk. But… Hallo! Comrade. Who is he you put in irons? He’s not our man. ” “Not our man!” they shouted with a volley of curses. “But that fellow would make two men the clerk’s size, and there would still be enough left to make a magistrate’s secretary. You can hang him, for greater security, but still, he’s not our man. ” “Yes, hang him!” said Dutch Pete. “Sapperment! Must our tunnel be talked about all over the country?” So where will pretty Maria go, with her silks and satins, her barrels and crates? Must we risk our underground passage to please this individual? Besides, didn’t he hit me on the head, didn’t he hit your cooper’s head, as if he had struck me with my own mallet. Doesn’t that deserve a hempen tie? “Doesn’t that deserve a grand rumbo?” cried Dicon. “With your permission, Captain, I would like to say that we are not a band of brigands or petty thieves, but a crew of honest sailors, incapable of doing harm except to those who do harm to us.” The exciseman Westhouse put Dick the cooper to death, and it is only right that he should be punished by death; but as for putting this young soldier to death, I would rather think of scuttling the coquettish Maria or hoisting the fat Roger to the head of her mast. I do not know what reply would have been made to this speech, for at that very moment a sharp whistle sounded outside the tunnel, and two smugglers appeared carrying between them the body of a man. He was limping along with such an inert air that at first I thought he was dead, but when they had thrown him on the sand, he stirred, and at last sat up with the expression of a man half awakened from a swoon. He was a stocky personage, with a resolute face, with a long white scar across his cheek. He was dressed in a close-fitting blue coat with brass buttons. “It’s the Excise man, Westhouse,” the voices cried together. “Yes, it’s the Excise man, Westhouse,” the man said calmly, twisting his neck as if in pain. “I represent the King’s law, and in the name of the law, I arrest you all. I declare all contraband goods I see around me confiscated and seized , in accordance with the second section of the first clause of the Illegal Trading Statute. If there are any honest men in the company, they will help me to do my duty.” As he spoke, he made an effort to stand, but he had more courage than strength, and he fell back on the sand amidst the loud peals of laughter of the rude sailors. “We found him lying on the road, returning from Father Microft’s,” said one of the newcomers. ” They were the ones who had taken my horse. ” “He must have come right after you. The rope caught him under the chin and made him fall a dozen paces. We saw the Excise button on his coat, that’s why we brought it in. By my body, he kicked and bucked with it until he was three-quarters knocked out. ” “Have you slackened the rope?” asked the captain. “We untied one end and left the other in place. ” “That’s good. We’ll have to keep him for Captain Venables. But now he’s our first prisoner.” We must search him and examine his papers, for there are so many ships sailing under a false flag that we are forced to be attentive. Do you hear, soldier? What brings you to this country, and which King do you serve? For I have heard of a mutiny and two skippers disputing the same rank in the old English ship. “I serve under King Monmouth,” I replied, seeing that the search in question would result in the discovery of my papers. “Under King Monmouth!” cried the smuggler. “No, my friend, that has the air of a lie. The good King has too great need of his friends in the South, I have heard, to send so good a soldier to wander along the coast, like a Cornish wrecker in a southwesterly weather.” “I carry,” I said, “dispatches in the King’s own handwriting, addressed to Henry, Duke of Beaufort, at his castle at Badminton. You may find them in my inner pocket, but I beg you not to break the seal, for that would bring my mission into disrepute. ” “Sir,” cried the Exciseman, raising himself on his elbow, ” I hereby place you under arrest, charged with treason , treasonableness, vagrancy, and masterless person under the fourth statute of the Act. As a representative of the law, I command you to submit to my warrant. ” “Shut his mouth with your scarf, Jim,” said Murgatroyd. When Venables comes, he’ll soon find a way to stop his flow… Yes, he continued, examining the back of my papers, it says: From James II of England, known to this day as Duke of Monmouth, to Henry, Duke of Beaufort, President of Wales, by the hands of Captain Micah Clarke, of the Wiltshire Regiment of Foot, Colonel Saxon. Take off the ropes, Dicon. So , Captain, you are free again, and I am sorry that we have unwittingly mistreated you. We are, from first to last, good Lutherans, and more willing to help than hinder you in your mission. “Could we not indeed help him on his journey?” said Lieutenant Silas. For my part, I would not fear to wet my jacket or smear my hand with tar in favor of the cause, and I am certain that you are all in the same mood as me. Now, with this breeze, we could push on to Bristol and land the captain in the morning. That would spare him the danger of being seized on the fly by one of the land sharks that are on the road. “Aye, aye,” cried Big John, “the King’s horse are scouring the country beyond Weston, but he might steal their thunder if he were on board the Maria. ” “Well,” said Murgatroyd, “we could be back in three long broadsides. Venables will need a day or two to land his goods. If we have to sail in company, we shall have time to spare. Will this plan suit you, captain? ” “My horse,” I objected. “We must not let that stop us. I can rig a stable comfortable with my spare spars and some wire netting. The wind has dropped. The lugger could be brought to Dead Man’s Shore, and the horse would be put in. Run to old father, Jim, and you, Silas, see to the boat. Here’s some cold meat, captain, and biscuit—the sailor’s ordinary—with a glass of real Jamaica to wash it down, and you mustn’t have a stomach too delicate for coarse fare. I sat down on a barrel by the fire and stretched my limbs, stiff and numb from their immobility, while one of the sailors washed the cut on my head with a wet handkerchief and another put food on a box before me. The rest of the party had gone to the mouth of the cave to get the lugger ready, except for two or three who were guarding the unfortunate Excise clerk. He sat with his back against the wall of the cavern, his arms folded over his chest, occasionally casting menacing glances at the smugglers, such as a brave old mastiff would cast at a pack of wolves that had overpowered him. I was inwardly wondering whether it might not be possible to try something to extricate him from this difficulty, when Murgatroyd came up, and dipping a tin cup into the smashed barrel of rum, emptied it to the success of my mission. “I will send Silas Bolitho with you,” he said, “while I remain here and wait for Venables, who commands my companion ship. If I can do anything to make you forget this ill-treatment—” “Only one thing,” I said briskly. “It is as much, or even more for your sake than for my own, that I ask you. Do not allow this wretch to be killed. ” Murgatroyd’s face flushed with anger. “You speak plainly,” he said. This is not murder, but an act of justice. What harm are we doing here? There is not a single old housewife in the whole country who does not bless us. Where will she buy her souchong, or her brandy, if not from us? We ask a small profit, and impose our goods on no one. We are peaceful traders. And yet this man and his ilk are constantly barking at our heels. They are like sea dogs after a school of cod. We have been harassed, chased. We have been shot at , to the point that we had to seek shelter in caves like this one. A month ago, four of our men were carrying a barrel across the mountain to Farmer Black, who has done business with us for the past five years. Suddenly, a dozen horsemen appear, led by this employee of the Excise. They play with the point and the edge, slit the arm of Big John and take Dick the cooper prisoner. Dick was dragged into Ilchester Gaol and hanged after the Assizes, as a weasel is hung on a gamekeeper’s door. We learned that this same Excise officer would be passing by, and he had little idea that we would be lying in wait for him. What is there to be wondered at if we set a trap for him and, after capturing him, subjected him to the same justice he inflicted on our comrades! “He is only a servant,” I objected; “it is not he who made the law; it is his duty to apply it. It is with the law itself that you are at odds. ” “You are right,” said the smuggler gloomily. “It is above all with Judge Moorcroft that we shall have to settle the score. It may be that on his rounds he passes along this road.” Heaven grant that he takes this path! But we will also hang the Excise employee. Now he knows our underground passage, and it would be madness to let him go. I saw that it was useless to argue any longer. So I simply dropped my pocket knife on the sand within reach of the prisoner in the hope that it might serve him. His guards laughed and joked together, and took little notice of their captive, but the clerk’s mind was sufficiently alert, for I saw his hand close around the knife. I had spent about an hour walking around smoking, when Lieutenant Silas reappeared, announcing that the lugger was ready, and the horse on board. I bade Murgatroyd farewell, and ventured a few words in favor of the clerk of the Excise, which were received with a frown and a sneer of the hand. A boat was being pulled up on the sand within the cavern, near the water’s edge. I entered it, as I was told, with my sabre and pistols, which had been returned to me. The crew pushed it out to sea and jumped in as soon as it was in deep water. By the faint light of the single torch Murgatroyd held on the far edge, I saw that the roof of the cave was rapidly lowering above us as we rowed toward the entrance. It finally dropped so much that there was scarcely a few feet between it and the sea, and we had to bend our heads to avoid the rocks that towered above us. The oarsmen gave two good strokes, and we suddenly passed under the vertical curtain, to find ourselves in the open air, under the stars, which shone with a dim brightness, and the moon, which showed itself in a vague and indecisive outline, through a fog that was thickening and thickening. Directly opposite us was a dark, ill-defined speck, which as we approached took the form of a large lugger, rising and falling with the pulsations of the sea. Her long, slender yards, the delicate network of ropes, rose above us as we glided under the arch, and the creaking of the blocks, the rustling of the cables, indicated that she was ready to make this journey. She went with a light and graceful gait, like a gigantic sea-bird spreading one wing, then the other, in preparation for flight. The boatmen put us alongside and secured the boat, while I climbed the rails and set foot on deck. She was a spacious ship, very broad amidships, with an elegant curve to the eaves, and masts of a height far superior to any I had seen on vessels of this kind on the Solent. It was decked forward, but had a very deep stern, with ropes fixed along the whole length of the sides to secure the barrels when the hold was full. In the middle of this afterdeck, the sailors had made a solid stable, where my brave horse stood before a bucket of oats. My old friend rubbed his nostrils against my face as soon as I was on board, and gave a neigh of joy at finding his master again. We were still exchanging caresses, when the grizzled head of Lieutenant Bolitho suddenly appeared at the cabin hatch. “We are well on our way, Captain Clarke,” he said. “The breeze has quite died down, as you can see, and it may be a long time before we reach your port. Are you not tired? ” “I am a little weary,” I confessed. My head is still pounding from the crack I got when your rope threw me to the ground. “An hour or two of sleep will make you as fit as one of Mother Carey’s chickens. Your horse is well cared for, and you may leave him without fear. I will send a man to look after him, though , to tell the truth, rascals understand each other better about bonnets and halyards than they do about horses and their needs. In any case, nothing untoward can happen to him. So you had better get down and go in.” So I went down the steep steps that led to the lower cabin. of the lugger’s ceiling. On both sides, a recess in the wall had been made into a berth. “Here is your bed,” he said, showing me one of them. “We will call you when we have something new to tell you.” I needed no second invitation. I lay down at once without undressing, and in a few minutes I fell into a dreamless sleep, unbroken by the gentle motion of the ship, nor by the footsteps that echoed above my head. Chapter 9. Of the Welcome That Greets Me at Badminton. When I opened my eyes, I had some difficulty in remembering where I was, but the memory was abruptly brought back to me by the violent impact of my head against the low ceiling when I tried to sit up. On the other side of the cabin, Silas Bolitho was lying full length , his head wrapped in a red woolen cap. He was sleeping soundly, snoring. In the middle of the cabin swung a hanging table, much worn, and marked with countless stains by countless glasses and jugs. A wooden bench screwed to the floor completed the furnishings. To this must be added, however, a rack stocked with muskets, on one side. Above and below the compartments which served as our berths, were rows of chests containing, no doubt, the most valuable lace and silk. The ship rose and fell with a gentle movement, but from the fluttering of the sails, I judged that there was little wind. I slipped noiselessly out of my berth, so as not to wake the lieutenant, and went on deck. We were not only in complete calm, but imprisoned in a thick mass of fog that surrounded us on all sides, and even hid from us the view of the water that carried us. We could have been taken for an aerial vessel sailing on the surface of a vast white cloud. From time to time a light breeze stirred the foresail and swelled it for a moment, but it was only to let it fall back on the motionless mast, hanging. Sometimes a ray of sunlight pierced through the thickness of the fog and colored the dull, gray wall with an iridescent band, but the mist carried it away again and made the brilliant invader disappear. Covenant looked to right and left, opening wide questioning eyes. The sailors were grouped along the rails, smoking their pipes, and trying to pierce the dense fog with their eyes. “Good morning, Captain,” said Dicon, putting his hand to his fur cap. We made magnificent progress, while the breeze lasted, and the lieutenant, before going down, calculated that we could not be very far from Bristol. “In that case, my good fellow,” I replied, “you can land me, for I have not far to go. ” “Yes, but we must wait until the fog has cleared,” said Long John. “You see, there is only one place around here where we can land our cargo without interference. When it is light, we will steer that way, but until we can take our bearings we shall have a lot of trouble with the sandbanks on the windward side. ” “Keep an eye that way, Tom Baldock,” shouted Dicon to a man carried forward. “We are in the path of all the Bristol ships, and although there is very little wind, a tall-masted ship could take advantage of a breeze that we would miss. ” “Hush!” said Big John suddenly, raising his hand in warning, “hush! ” “Call the lieutenant,” said the sailor in a low voice. “There’s a ship near us. I heard the creaking of a rope on her deck.” Silas Bolitho was on his feet in an instant, and we all stood still, listening, trying to see through the fog. thick. We were almost convinced that it was a false alarm, and the lieutenant was leaving in a rather bad mood, when a loud, clear bell rang seven times loudly near us, and this sound was followed by a high-pitched whistle, then a confused noise of shouts and footsteps. “It’s a King’s ship,” grumbled the lieutenant, “it’s the seventh hour, and the foreman is bringing up the watchmen. ” “He was aft of our beam,” someone said quietly. “No,” said another, “I think he was near our port bow.” The lieutenant raised his hand. We waited in silence for a new clue to reveal the position of our unfortunate neighbor. The wind had freshened a little, and we were gliding over the water at a speed of four to five knots an hour. Suddenly a hoarse voice was heard almost alongside. “All hands on deck!” she cried, “put some men on the windward arms, this way. People on the halyards! Give a hand, you lazy rascals, or I’ll fall on you with my cane, and the devil take you! ” “It’s one of the King’s ships, that’s for sure, and she’s just this way,” said Big John, pointing to the quarter. “On merchant ships , they talk to you politely. It’s those blue-coated fellows with the gold braid, those squinting eyes on the quarterdeck, who talk about canes. Ha! didn’t I tell you!” While he was still speaking, the white veil of vapors rose like a theatre curtain, and revealed a large warship, so close to us that you could have thrown biscuits into it. Her long, slender, black hull rose and fell with a graceful cadence, her beautiful yards and snow-white sails rose until they disappeared in the wisps of fog that still floated around her. Nine shining bronze cannons looked at us through the gun ports. Above the row of hammocks suspended like carded wool along her rails, we could easily see the faces of the sailors who were looking at us in astonishment and pointing at each other. On the high stern stood an officer of a certain age, in a three-cornered hat and a fine white wig, who immediately armed himself with a telescope and trained it on us. “Ahoy! over there,” he cried, leaning over the crown of the stern, “what is that lugger?” “The Lucie,” replied the lieutenant, “on her way from Portlockquay to Bristol with hides and tallow… Get ready to tack,” he continued in a lower voice, “the fog is rolling in again. ” “There you have one of the hides with the horse in it,” shouted the officer. ” Get under our hold, we must take a closer look . ” “Yes, yes, sir,” said the lieutenant, giving a sharp heave of the helm. The bowsprit went sideways, and the Maria sped off into the fog, like a frightened seabird. When we looked back, only a dark mass showed us the position where we had left the great vessel. But we could still hear the orders being shouted aloud and the comings and goings of the men. “Watch out for the downpour, my children,” shouted the lieutenant. “He’ll give us some now.” He had scarcely spoken these words when half a dozen flames flashed behind us in the fog, while the same number of cannonballs whistled through our rigging. One of them cut the end of the yard and left it hanging. Another grazed the bowsprit and scattered a cloud of white flashes in the air.
“Hot business, eh, Captain,” said old Silas, rubbing his hands. “By my faith, they shoot better in the dark than they ever did in the light. This lugger has had more cannonballs fired at it than it could carry if it were loaded. And yet not one has even scratched his paint so far. They’re doing it again! Another broadside went off from the warship, but this time he had lost all trace, and was firing at random. “That’s their last shot,” said Dicon. “Don’t be afraid,” growled another of the smugglers. “They’ll be keeping the powder blazing for the rest of the day. Here, God bless you! Isn’t this good exercise for the crew? And as the ammunition is with the King, it doesn’t cost anyone a penny. ” “It’s lucky the breeze has freshened,” said Big John, “for I heard the davits creaking immediately after the first discharge. He was putting his boats out to sea, or call me a Dutchman. ” “That would be very flattering for you, you seven-foot codfish,” cried my enemy the cooper, whose face was not beautified by a large plaster over one eye. You should have learned to do something better than pull at a rope, or scrub the deck all your life, like a woman. “I’ll cast you adrift in one of your barrels, lard poured into a bladder,” retorted the sailor. “How many times must we beat you to make you disgorge your sauce? ” “The fog is clearing a little on the landward side,” remarked Silas. “I think I recognize the peak of Pointe Saint Augustine. It rises over there on the starboard bank. ” “That’s it, for sure, sir,” cried one of the sailors, pointing to a black cape that cut through the fog. “Steer for the cove of three fathoms, then,” said the lieutenant, ” when we have rounded the point, Captain Clarke, we can land you and your mount. Then you will have only a few hours’ ride to reach your destination.” I took the old sailor aside, and after thanking him for his kindness, I spoke to him about the Excise clerk, and begged him to use his influence to save him. “That is Captain Venables’s business,” he said gloomily. “If we let him go, what will become of our tunnel? ” “Is there no way of ensuring his silence?” “Perhaps we could take him on board for the plantations,” said the lieutenant. “We could take him with us to the Texel, and get Captain Donders or someone else to take him on board for the passage across the Pacific Ocean. ” “Do that,” I said, “and I will see that King Monmouth is informed of the assistance you have given his messenger. ” “Well, we shall be there in a watch or two,” he remarked. Let’s go downstairs and stock your ground floor well, for there’s nothing like a well-weighted hold to make a good start. Following the sailor’s advice, I went down with him and made a coarse but hearty meal. By the time we were finishing it, the lugger had been brought into a narrow cove bordered on either side by a gently sloping sandy shore. The area was uncultivated, marshy, and showed few signs of habitation. By dint of caressing, I persuaded Covenant to put himself in the water. He easily swam to shore while I followed him in the lugger’s skiff. A few farewells were said to me, in language full of harsh cordiality. I witnessed the skiff’s return. The fine ship resumed its course out to sea and soon disappeared once more into the fog that still covered the surface of the water. Truly Providence intervenes in strange ways, my children, and before arriving at the autumn of life, it would be difficult to distinguish what is attributable to good or bad fortune. For among all the adventures of my wandering existence, which have seemed to me unfortunate, there is none that I have not ended up regarding as a benefit. And if you carefully engrave this in your heart, it will be of a powerful help to put you in a position to face, with tight lips, all troubles. Indeed, why grieve, as long as you are not absolutely certain that the event cannot turn out in such a way as to bring you joy? Also, now you see clearly that I began by being thrown down on a stony road, by receiving punches, kicks , and finally I was almost put to death being taken for someone else. And yet the outcome of all this was to make me arrive safe and sound at the goal of my journey. If on the contrary I had taken the land road, it is more than likely that I would have been captured at Weston, because, as I learned later, a troop of cavalry was actively scouring the whole country, closing the roads and arresting all those who appeared on them. Now that I was alone, my first care was to bathe my face and hands in a stream that ran down to the sea, and to remove all traces of my adventures of the previous night. My gash was very small, and my hair hid it. After making myself almost presentable, I immediately rubbed my horse as well as possible and arranged his girth and saddle again. Then I led him by the bridle to the top of a neighboring eminence, from which I thought I could get some idea of where I was. The fog lay very thick over the Canal, but on the landward side everything was clear and transparent. The country, which ran along the sea, was desolate and marshy, but on the other side stretched before me a beautiful fertile plain, well cultivated. A range of high mountains, which appeared to me to be the Mendips, bordered the whole horizon, and still further to the north appeared the blue peaks of another range. The glittering Aven flowed through the countryside like a silver serpent in a flowerbed. Very close to its mouth, not more than two leagues from where I stood, rose the steeples and towers of the imposing city of Bristol, the Queen of the West, which was, and perhaps still is, the second city of the kingdom. The forests of masts which rose like a grove of pines above the roofs of the houses proved the importance of the commercial relations both with Ireland and with the Colonies, which had given rise to this flourishing city. Knowing that the Duke’s residence was many miles from the city in the direction of the county of Gloucester, and fearing to be arrested and interrogated if I ventured to pass through the gates, I took a cross- country route to skirt the enclosure, and thus avoid this danger. The path I followed led me to a country lane, which in turn opened out into a highway crowded with travelers, some on horseback, others on foot. As the troubles then prevailing obliged people to travel armed, there was nothing in my equipment to excite attention, and it was easy for me to go my way among the other horsemen, without being questioned or suspected. Judging by their appearance, they were mostly farmers or minor gentlemen, who were going to Bristol to inquire about the news, or to shelter their most valuable possessions in a stronghold. “With your permission, sir,” said a stout, thick-featured man in a velvet jacket, who was riding on my left, ” could you tell me if His Grace Beaufort is at Bristol or at his house in Badminton? ” I told him I could not tell him, but that I would go and find him myself. “He was at Bristol yesterday, engaged in drill for the volunteers,” said the stranger, “but, it must be said, His Grace is so loyal and takes such pains for His Majesty’s cause, that it is by the greatest of chances that one can lay hands on him.” But if you are looking for him, where do you want to go? “I will go to Badminton and wait for him there. Can you tell me the way?
” “What! Doesn’t he know the road to Badminton?” he cried, quite astonished, and opening his eyes wide. “Well, I thought the whole world knew it! You are not from Wales, nor from one of the border counties, sir, that is quite clear. ” “I am from Hampshire,” I said, “and I have come quite far to see the Duke. ” “Yes, I should have thought so,” he cried, laughing heartily. “If you don’t know the road to Badminton, you don’t know much about it. But I will go with you; I will be hanged if I don’t go; I will show you the way, and I will try my luck to find the Duke there. What is your name? ” “My name is Micah Clarke.” “And I am Farmer Brown, John Brown, on the register, but better known as the Farmer. Take that turning on the right of the highway. Now we can put our animals to a trot, without being smothered by other people’s dust. And why are you going to find Beaufort? ” “On private matters that don’t require explanations,” I replied. “The devil now! Matters of state, probably,” he said, whistling. “Well, a tongue that keeps silent has saved the neck of many a man. I, for my part, am a cautious man, and we are at a time when I would be careful not to whisper certain ideas of mine. No, I would not even whisper them in the ear of my old brown mare here, for fear of seeing her in the witness box, testifying against me.” “It seems very busy around here,” I remarked, for we had before us the walls of Bristol, which teams of workmen were busy repairing, pick and shovel in hand. “Yes, it is quite busy. Preparations are being made in case the rebels should arrive from this direction. Cromwell and his blackguards found someone to talk to here in my father’s time, and no doubt the same will arrive at Monmouth. ” “There is a strong garrison too?” I said, remembering the advice given by Saxon at Salisbury. “I see two or three regiments over there on this bare and open ground. ” “There are forty thousand infantry, and a thousand cavalry,” replied the farmer, “but the foot soldiers are only apprentices; no way to count on them after Axminster. They say around here that the rebels number nearly twenty thousand and that they give no quarter.” Well , if we’re going to have civil war, I hope it goes on hot and brisk, instead of dragging on for a dozen years like the last one. If our throats are going to be cut, let it be with a sharp knife, not with old lopping shears. “What do you say to a pot of cider?” I asked, for we were passing an ivy-clad inn, whose sign bore these words: The Beaufort Arms. “With all my heart, lad,” replied my companion. “Hello! This way! Two pints of ale, old and strong! That’ll clear the dust off the road. The real Beaufort Arms are over there at Badminton, for at the cellar door anyone can ask for anything they like, provided they’re reasonable, without taking anything out of their pocket. ” “You talk of the house as if you knew it well,” I said. “Who would know it better?” asked the fat farmer, wiping his lips, as we set off again. It seems to me that only yesterday my brothers and I were playing hide-and-seek in the old Botelers’ castle, which stood near the new house at Badminton, or Acton Turville, as some call it. The Duke built it only a few years ago, and to tell the truth his title of Duke is not much older. Some people think he would have done better to keep the name his ancestors bore. “What sort of man is the Duke?” I asked. “Carried away, hasty, like all those of his family. But when he has time to reflect, and has cooled down, he is just, in short. Has your horse been in the water this morning, my friend? ” “Yes,” I said shortly, “he has had a bath. ” “It is on a horse matter that I am going to see His Grace,” said my companion. “His officers have requisitioned my four-year-old piebald horse and have taken him away without even saying: With your permission… Allow yourself for the King’s service. I wish to teach them that there is something above the Duke and even the King. There is English law, which grants protection to people and what they possess. I would do anything reasonable for the service of King James, but my four-year-old piebald horse! It is too much. ” “I fear the needs of the State service will override your objection,” I said. “What! But that’s enough to make you a Whig,’ he cried. ‘The Roundheads themselves paid every penny for everything they took. It’s true they took what their money was worth . I heard my father say that trade never went so well as in ’46, when they were around here. Old Noll had a hempen necktie ready for horse thieves, whether they held for the King or the Parliament. But here’s the Duke’s carriage, if I mistake not.’ While he was still speaking, a large, heavy yellow coach, drawn by six cream-colored Flemish mares, came speeding up the road and passed us rapidly. Two footmen on horseback galloped in front, two others, all in blue and silver livery, rode on either side. ‘His Grace is not in it.’ Otherwise there would have been an escort behind, said the farmer, while we pulled on the reins to pull our horses aside to make way. He threw them a question as to whether the Duke was at Badminton, and received in reply a nod from the stately coachman in the wig. “We’re in luck, we’ll catch him,” said Farmer Brown. ” These days it’s as hard to get hold of him as it is to catch a rail in a cornfield. We shall be there in an hour at the most. It’s thanks to you that I shall not have made the journey to Bristol in vain. What, did you say, was your errand?” I was once more obliged to assure him that the matter was not one I should discuss with a stranger, which seemed to vex him. So we went several miles without his opening his mouth. Clumps of trees lined both sides of the road, and we could smell the sweet scent of pines. Far away, in the hot summer air, floated the musical sound, sometimes vibrant, sometimes faint, of a bell. The shade of the branches was welcome, for a very hot, blazing sun in a cloudless sky was making a mist rise from the fields and valleys. “That’s the Chipping Sodbury bell,” my companion said at last, sponging his ruddy face. “That’s Sodbury Church on this side, over the height; then, here on the right, is the entrance to Badminton Park.” Tall iron gates, with the leopard and griffin that are the supports of the Beaufort coat of arms, fixed to the top of the pillars that flanked them, opened onto a beautiful park formed of lawns and meadows, with clumps of trees scattered here and there, and large ponds, where wild birds swarmed. At every turn of the winding avenue that we rode along, some new beauty presented itself to our eyes, which Farmer Brown pointed out and explained to me. He seemed as proud of the place as if he had been its owner. Here it was a work of rock where thousands of brilliantly colored stones could be seen under the ferns and plants climbing plants that had been placed so as to cover them. There was a pretty babbling stream whose bed had been traced in such a way that it foamed over a bank formed by sheer rocks. Or it was the statue of a nymph, of a forest god, or else an artfully constructed retreat hidden under roses and honeysuckles. I had never seen a park laid out with such taste, and it was arranged as any excellent work of art should be, following nature so closely, that the only difference consisted in the accumulation of these works in such a restricted space. A few years later, our English taste, so healthy, was spoiled by the pedantic gardening of the Dutch, with its water features remarkable for their flatness and straight lines, by its trees which were all clipped, all aligned, like vegetable pomegranates. To tell the truth, I think the Prince of Orange and Sir William Temple are largely responsible for this change, but now the damage has been repaired, from what I have heard, and we have ceased to try to show nature up in our pleasure grounds. As we approached the house, we came near a vast, level lawn, where horsemen were practicing. My companion informed me that they had been recruited solely from the domestic staff surrounding the Duke. After passing them, we crossed a clump of rare trees, and found ourselves on a large, sandy square in front of the front of the house. The building itself was of great extent, built in the new Italian style, more for comfortable accommodation than for defense, but in one of the wings, as my companion showed me, a part of the old keep and walls of the feudal castle of Botelers had been preserved, which looked as out of place as a farthingale of Queen Elizabeth fitted to a court dress recently arrived from Paris. The principal entrance was reached by a colonnade and a broad marble staircase, on the steps of which stood a group of footmen and grooms, who took our horses when we dismounted. A grizzled steward or majordomo inquired our business, and on learning that we wished to see the Duke himself, he told us that His Grace would give audience to the strangers in the afternoon at three -thirty. He added that in the meantime, the guests’ meal had just been served in the hall, and that his master intended that no one who came to Badminton leave hungry. My companion and I were very happy to accept the steward’s invitation. So, after visiting the bathroom and taking care of the care our costume required, we followed a footman who showed us into a large room where the company was already assembled. The guests must have numbered about fifty or sixty, young, old, gentlemen, and commoners, offering the most diverse types and appearances. I noticed that many of them cast haughty and questioning glances around them , during the intervals of service, as if each was surprised to see himself in such a mixed company. The only characteristic they had in common was the eager reception they gave to the dishes and the bottles of wine. There was little conversation, for there were very few people who knew their neighbors. These were soldiers who had come to offer their swords and services to the King’s lieutenant. Others were merchants from Bristol, who had come with the desire to make some proposal or suggestion relating to the safety of their property. There were two or three high officials of the city, who had come to receive instructions relating to its defense. I also noticed here and there some son of Israel, who had found the means of penetrating so far in the hope that these times of trouble would bring him important personages and noble borrowers. Horse dealers, saddlers, armorers, surgeons, and clergymen formed the rest of the company, which was served by a troop of powdered and liveried servants. They brought and carried away the dishes with the silence and dexterity that bespeaks long practice. The room contrasted with the bare simplicity of Sir Stephen Timewell’s dining room at Taunton, for it was richly paneled and its surround luxuriously decorated. The floor was made of squares of white or black marble. On the walls, faced with polished oak, hung, in a long series, the portraits of the Somerset family, from John of Gaunt down. The ceiling was also tastefully decorated with paintings representing flowers and nymphs, and one had time to numb one’s neck before having admired everything. At the other end of the room was a wide open fireplace of white marble, above which were carved in wood the lions and lilies of the Somerset coat of arms. They were surmounted by a long gilt band which bore the family motto: Mutare vel timere sperno, I disdain to change or to fear. The massive tables at which we sat were covered with large silver platters and candelabra, and on them gleamed the sumptuous silverware for which Badminton had become famous. I could not help thinking that if Decimus Saxon could only look at all this, he would not lose a moment in urging that the war be pushed in that direction. After dinner, everyone was shown into a small antechamber, around which were velvet-covered chairs, and where we were to wait until the Duke was ready to receive us. In the center of the room were several glass-topped, silk-lined cases, in which were seen small rods of steel and iron, with copper tubes and other highly polished and ingenious objects, though it was impossible for me to guess for what purpose they had been assembled. A gentleman chamberlain went around the company, with paper and a horn-shaped writing-stand, to mark our names and our case. I applied to him to inquire whether it would not be possible to have a strictly private audience. “His Grace never gives private audiences,” he replied. “He is always surrounded by his intimate advisers and the officers in his service. ” “But the matter in question is such that he alone must hear it,” I insisted. “His Grace is of opinion that there is no matter that he alone should hear,” said the gentleman. “It is for you to arrange yourself as best you can, when you are presented to him.” However, I am willing to promise you that your request will be submitted to him, but I warn you that it will not be granted. I thanked him for his good offices, and left him to go with the farmer to take a look at the strange little contraptions contained in the boxes. “What is this?” I asked, “I have never seen anything like it. ” “It is,” he said, “the work of that madman Marquis of Worcester. He was the Duke’s grandfather, and he spent all his time inventing and making these toys, but they were never of any use to him or anyone else. Now look at this. The one with wheels was called the water engine: he had got into his head the bizarre idea that by heating the water in this boiler here, one could make the wheels turn, and that thus one could travel on iron bars faster than a horse. Hou! I would gladly bet my old brown mare against mechanics of this sort, until the end of the world. But let us take our places, for here comes the Duke. We had scarcely sat down with the other petitioners when the door flew open. A stocky, stout, short man of about fifty entered the room with a busy air, and strode through it between two rows of bowing charges. He had large, prominent blue eyes, beneath which the skin formed two large pouches, and a pale, yellow face. At his heels came a dozen officers and noblemen , with flowing wigs and clanging swords. They had scarcely passed through the door opposite, which led into the Duke’s own chamber, when the gentleman with the list called out a name, which began the procession of people who had come to be in the presence of the great personage. “It seems to me that His Grace is not in a very good humor,” said Farmer Brown. “Did you notice, as he passed by, how he was biting his lower lip?” “He seems like a very peaceable gentleman,” I said, “but Job and himself would be put to a severe test if he had to receive all these people in one afternoon. ” “Listen to this!” he said in a low voice, raising his finger. And while he was still speaking, the Duke’s voice, all vibrating with anger, was heard in the back room, and a small, pointed-faced man came out and ran across the antechamber, as if fright had made him lose his head. “He’s a gunsmith from Bristol,” one of my neighbors said in a low voice. “It ‘s likely the Duke couldn’t agree on the terms of a contract with him. ” “No,” said another, “it’s because he supplied sabers to Sir Marmaduke Hyson’s squadron, and they say the blades bend as if they were made of lead. Even if they’ve been used for a little while, it’s impossible to get them back into the scabbard.” “The tall man who enters now,” said the first, “is an inventor. He possesses the secret of a certain very deadly fire, of the kind the Greeks used against the Turks in the Levant, and he wishes to sell it to better defend Bristol.” No doubt Greek fire did not seem indispensable to the Duke, for the inventor soon left, his face as red as if it had been in contact with its composition. The next on the list was my friend the good farmer. The irritated tone that greeted him was a bad omen for the fate of the four-year-old horse, but a lull came over. The farmer left and sat down again, rubbing his large red hands with satisfaction. “By God!” he said in a low voice, he got very angry at first, but it was settled, and he promised me that if I paid the upkeep of a dragoon for the duration of the war, my piebald horse would be returned to me. I had been sitting all this time, wondering what idea heaven would inspire in me to conduct my business in the midst of this swarm of petitioners, among this throng of officers who surrounded the Duke. If there had been the slightest chance of obtaining an audience with him by any other means, I would have seized it with eagerness, but everything I had attempted to that end had failed. If I did not take this opportunity, it might be that I would never find myself face to face with him again. But was it possible for him to think about such a matter, or to discuss it in the presence of other people? What chance had it of being examined in the proper way? Even if his disposition led him in that direction, he would not dare to show his indecision when so many eyes were fixed on him. I was tempted to take another motive to explain my coming, and to count on fortune to obtain from her a more favorable chance for the delivery of my papers. But in the end this chance might not present itself, and time was pressing. It was said that he would return to Bristol the next day. All things considered, it seemed to me that I should make the best possible use of my present situation and hope that the Duke’s discretion and composure would induce him to grant me a more private interview, when he saw the address inscribed on my dispatches. I had scarcely formed this resolution when my name was called. I immediately rose and entered the back room. It was small, but very high, hung with blue silk, with a broad gilt cornice. In the middle was a square table cluttered with piles of papers. On the other side was His Grace, in a large wig falling to his shoulders, with a majestic, imposing countenance. He had that same elusive air of the Court, which I had noticed both in Monmouth and Sir Gervas, and this, together with his well -marked, energetic features, and his large, piercing eyes, marked him as a leader of men. His private secretary was beside him, writing down his orders. The other people were lined up behind him in a semicircle, or exchanging pinches of snuff in the deep window embrasure . “Mark the order made to Smithson,” he was saying when I entered, “one hundred helmets, and as many pieces of cuirass, fronts and backs, to be kept ready for Tuesday, in addition one hundred and twenty Dutch rifles for the musketeers, with two hundred spades more for the workmen, mark that this order will be considered null and void if it is not executed on the appointed day. ” “It is marked, Your Grace. ” “Captain Micah Clarke,” said the Duke, reading the list before him. “What do you desire, Captain? ” “It would be better if I could speak to Your Grace in private,” I replied. “Ah! It was you who requested the private audience? Well, Captain, here is my advice, and my advice is another myself. So you can consider each other as if privately.” What I can hear, they can hear. By Jove, my man, instead of stammering and rolling your eyes, state your case. My request had attracted the attention of the audience. Those at the window drew closer to the table. Nothing could be more unfavorable to the success of my mission, and yet there was no other course to be taken than to deliver my dispatches. I can say it in all conscience, and without any boasting, I feared nothing for myself. To accomplish my duty was the only thought present in my mind. And here, I can say it once and for all, my dear children, I speak of myself throughout this narrative, with the same freedom as if it were a question of any other man. To tell the truth, the vigorous and active young man of twenty-one was indeed a different man than the old fellow with the gray head sitting by the corner of the chimney, and incapable of doing anything but telling old stories to the little ones. The shallower the water, the more it splashes. Also, a troublemaker has always seemed to me a contemptible object. I hope, therefore, that you will never imagine that your grandfather sings his own praises, or poses as a being superior to his neighbor. I will confine myself to stating the facts to you, as well as I can remember them, with perfect frankness, and in all their truth. My short delay, my hesitation had brought a vivid flush of anger to the Duke’s face. So I took the packet of papers from my inside pocket, which I handed to him, bowing respectfully. When his eyes fell on the address, he gave a start of surprise and agitation and made a movement as if to hide them in his coat. If this was his first impulse, he mastered it and remained lost in thought for at least a minute, the papers in his hand. Then, with a quick nod of his head, with the air of a man who has taken his party, he broke the seals and ran through the text, which he then threw upon the table with a bitter laugh. “What say you, gentlemen,” he cried, casting a disdainful glance around him, “what do you think this particular message is? It is a letter from the traitor Monmouth to me, inviting me to abandon the service of my natural sovereign and draw the sword in his favor. If I do so, I may count on the grace of his favor and protection. If not, I incur confiscation, banishment, and ruin. He believes that Beaufort’s loyalty can be bought like a peddler’s merchandise , or that he can be compelled to part with it by threatening language. The descendant of John of Gaunt will then pay homage to the offspring of a traveling actress! Several of those present rose abruptly, and a general buzz of surprise and anger followed the Duke’s words. He remained seated with lowered brows, stamping his feet on the ground and shuffling the papers on the table. “What has raised his hopes to such a height?” he cried. “How dare he send such a letter to a man of my quality? Is it because he saw a pack of contemptible militiamen showing him their heels, and because he made a few hundred bacon-eaters leave the plough to induce them to follow his standard, that he dares to speak such language to the President of Wales? But you will bear me witness to the disposition with which I received him. ” “We will protect your Grace from all danger of being calumniated on this point,” said an officer of a certain age, whose remark was followed by a murmur of approval from all the others. “And you,” cried Beaufort, raising his voice and directing his blazing eyes upon me, “who are you to dare to carry such a message to Badminton? You certainly gave your common sense a break before setting out on a commission of this sort. ” “Here, as everywhere else, I am in the hand of God,” I replied, in a flash of paternal fatalism. “I have done what I promised to do. The rest is none of my business. ” “You will see that this concerns you very closely,” he yelled, springing from his seat and pacing the room, “so closely that it will put an end to all other worldly matters that concern you. Let the halberdiers from the first hall be called! Now, my man, what have you to say in your defense? ” “There is nothing to say,” I replied. “But there is something to do,” he replied with a redoubled fury. Seize this man and tie his hands! Four halberdiers, who had responded to the Duke’s call, advanced and laid hands on me. To resist would have been madness, for I had no intention of mistreating people who were doing their duty. I had come accepting my fate, and if that fate were to be death, as then seemed very likely, I would have to resign myself to it as if it were a foregone conclusion. Then those couplet verses came back to me, which Master Chillingfoot had always commended to our admiration: Non civium ardor prava jubentium, Non vultus instantis tyranni, Mente quatit solida. The fury of citizens demanding guilty things, nor the face of the tyrant who threatens, shakes his firmness of soul. He was there, vultus instantis tyranni, in that corpulent man, in wig, in lace, with a yellow face. I had obeyed the poet in the sense that my courage had not been shaken. I confess that this mass of dust turning on itself, which is called the world, had never seduced me to the point that it would cost me a groan when I left it—never, until the day of my marriage—and this, as you will recognize, is a fact which changes your ideas about the price of life, as well as many other ideas. Things being thus, I stood firm, my eyes fixed on the angry gentleman, while his soldiers put the manacles on my wrists.
Chapter 10. Strange Things That Happen in the Botelers’ Keep. “Write down this individual’s words,” said the Duke to his secretary. “Now, sir, it may be that you are ignorant that His Gracious Majesty the King has conferred upon me full powers during this period of agitation, and that I have his authorization to act with regard to traitors without jury or judge. As I understand it, you hold a rank in the rebel force here designated as the Saxon Regiment, of the Wiltsshire Foot. Tell the truth, if you value your neck. ” “I will tell the truth for something of greater importance than that, Your Grace,” I replied. I command a company in this regiment. “And who is this Saxon?” “I will answer as best I can on what concerns me myself,” I said, ” but not a word that might compromise others. ” “Ha!” he yelled, boiling with anger, “now our handsome gentleman sees fit to be delicate in matters of honor, after having taken up arms against his King. I tell you, sir, your honor is already in such a sorry state that you may well renounce it to think only of your safety. The sun is about to set in the west. Before it sets, it may be the setting of your life as well. ” “I am the guardian of my honor, Your Grace,” I replied. “As for my life, if I were so much afraid of losing it, I would not be here.” It is well to inform you that my colonel has sworn to exact reprisals, in the event of any misfortune befalling me, you, or any person of your household who falls into his hands. This I say not as a threat, but as a warning, for I know him to be a man not to break his word. “Your colonel, as you call him, may soon have enough difficulty in saving himself,” replied the Duke mockingly. ” How many men does Monmouth have with him?” I smiled and nodded. “How shall we make this traitor find his tongue?” he demanded angrily, addressing his Council. “I’ll put thumbs on him,” said a fierce-looking old soldier. “I’ve heard that a lighted fuse between the fingers works wonders,” suggested another. In the Scottish war, Sir Thomas Dalzell was able to convert by this argument several people of that stubborn, hardened race that are the Covenanters. “Sir Thomas Dalzell,” said an elderly gentleman, dressed in black velvet, ” studied the art of war among the Muscovites, in their barbarous and bloody encounters with the Turks. God grant that we Christians of England do not seek our models among the idolaters dressed in animal skins of a savage country. ” “Sir William would have war waged in accordance with the rules of the purest courtesy,” said the one who had spoken first. ” A battle would be fought like a solemn minuet, without any breach of dignity or etiquette.” “Sir,” replied the other briskly, “I was on the battlefield when you were still in swaddling clothes, and I played with the sword when you barely had the strength to shake a rattle. In sieges and engagements, the profession of soldier requires strength and rigor, but I say that torture, the use of which has been suppressed by English law, should also be suppressed by the law of nations. ” “Enough, gentlemen, enough,” cried the Duke, seeing that the dispute was probably about to become heated. “We value your opinion highly, Sir William, as well as yours, Colonel Marne. We will discuss them more fully in our private lives. Halberdiers, take the prisoner, and that a priest be sent to him to provide for the needs of his soul. “Shall we take him to the prison chamber, Your Grace?” asked the captain of the Halberdiers. “No, to the old Botelers’ dungeon,” he replied. And I heard the next name on the list being called, while I was led through a side door, preceded and followed by a guard.
We crossed an infinite number of passages and corridors, which echoed with our heavy footsteps and the clanging of weapons, and we finally arrived at the old wing. There, in the corner turret, was a small, bare room, where the dampness kept the mold growing. It had a high, vaulted ceiling, and a long crack in the outer wall let only the light in. A small wooden bunk and a rough seat formed all the furniture. It was there that the captain showed me in, who, after posting a sentry near the door, went in with me and untied my wrists. He was a man of melancholy mien. His grave, sunken eyes, his gloomy face, clashed with his brightly colored gear and the pretty ribbon knot on his sword. “Have courage, my boy,” he said in a hollow voice. “One feels strangled, one wriggles, and it’s over. A day or two ago, we had the same chore to do, and the man scarcely groaned. Old Spender, who is the Duke’s blacksmith, has a way of his own for tightening the knot, and no less judgment in arranging the fall, that is as good as Dun of Tyburn’s. So have courage, for you will not pass through the hands of an apprentice. ” “I wish I could inform Monmouth that his letters have been delivered,” I cried, sitting down on the edge of the bunk. “Upon my word, they have been delivered. Had you been the bearer of penny letters from Mr. Robert Murray, of whom we heard so much in London last spring, they could not have come more directly. Why did you not speak gently to the Duke? He is a kindly gentleman. He has a good heart, except when he is crossed. A few words about the number of the rebels, about their dispositions, might have saved you. ” “I wonder that you, a soldier, should speak or think so,” I said coldly. “Well, well, your neck is your own. If you please to take a leap into nothingness, it would be a pity to cross you. But His Grace wished you to see the chaplain: I must go and fetch him. ” “I pray you, do not bring him,” I said, “for I belong to a family of dissenters, and I see a Bible over there in that niche.” No man can help me to be reconciled to God. “That is fitting,” he replied, “for Dean Newby has come from Chippenham, and at this moment he is discussing with our good chaplain the necessity of self-imposed privations, while moistening his throat with a bottle of first-rate Tokay. At dinner, I heard him say grace for what he was about to receive, and almost without taking a breath, ask the butler how he had the audacity to serve a deacon of the Church a chicken without truffles. But perhaps you desire the spiritual help of Dean Newby? No? In any case, I will do for you all that can reasonably be done, since you are not long in our hands. And above all, have courage.” He left the cell, but soon opened the door again, and showed his gloomy face through the half-open door. “I am Captain Sinclair, of the Duke’s household,” he said, “if you need to ask me anything. You had better secure spiritual assistance, for I will inform you that in this cell there has been something worse than ever happened to either guard or prisoner. ” “What?” I asked. “Well, yes, the devil, nothing less!” he replied, entering and closing the door. This is how it happened. Two years ago, Hector Marot, the highway robber, was locked up in this same Botelers tower. That night, I myself was on guard in the corridor, and at ten o’clock I saw the prisoner sitting on the bed, just as you are at this moment. At midnight, I had the opportunity to take a look, as is my custom, in the hope of brightening his hours of solitude. He had disappeared! Yes, you can open your eyes wide. I had not lost sight of the door for a single instant, and you will realize for yourself the possibility that he had left through the windows. The walls and the floor are made of stone blocks, which is to say solid rock, for solidity. When I entered, there was a horrible smell of sulfur, and the flame of my lantern turned blue. Yes, there is nothing to smile about. If the devil did not leave with Marot, I ask you, what did? For I am quite convinced that a good angel would never have come to deliver him, as happened once to the apostle Peter. Perhaps the Evil One is holding on to another bird in the same cage. So I may warn you to guard yourselves against his attacks. “No, I do not fear him,” I replied. “That is well,” croaked the captain, “do not be discouraged.” His head disappeared and the key turned in the creaking lock. The walls were of such thickness that when the door was closed, it was impossible for me to hear any sound. Apart from the whining of the wind in the branches of the trees outside the narrow window, all was silent as the grave inside the dungeon. Thus left to my own devices, I endeavored to comply with Captain Sinclair’s advice and to be firm in heart, though his words were far from encouraging. In my boyhood, and especially among the sectarians with whom I had come into contact, the belief that the Prince of Darkness occasionally appeared and intervened in a corporeal form in human affairs was widespread and uncontested. Philosophers, in the peace of their rooms, may reason learnedly on the absurdity of such things, but in a dungeon where half-light reigns, where one is separated from the world, where the gray light increasingly dominates , where one’s destiny hangs on the balance, it is quite otherwise. If the captain’s story were true, the escape seemed nothing short of miraculous. I examined the walls of the cell very carefully. They were formed of large square blocks skillfully fitted together. The thin slit or window was pierced in the middle of a large block of stone. Wherever the hand could reach, the surface of the walls was covered with letters and inscriptions carved by many generations of prisoners. The floor was formed of flagstones worn by footsteps, and firmly joined together. The most careful search revealed no hole, no crack through which a rat could have escaped, much less a man.
It is a very strange thing, my children, to lie thus, to have all one’s composure and to think to oneself that in all probability, in a few hours your pulse will have beaten for the last time, and that your soul will have been launched towards its supreme destination. It is strange, and very impressive. When one throws oneself on horseback into full melee, one’s jaw clenched, one’s hands tightly clenched on the bridle and on the hilt of the saber, one cannot feel the same emotions, for the human mind is so made that one shudder always erases another. Likewise, when a man sinks and breathes with difficulty on the bed where he is about to die of illness, one cannot say that he has experienced this shudder, because the mind, weakened by illness, can only abandon itself, and is incapable of considering too closely what is to come. which he abandons himself to. But when a man, full of youth and vigor, is thus alone, that he sees death before him, hanging over him, he has to entertain his thoughts such things that, if he survives, if he reaches the age when his hair turns gray, his whole life will undergo the imprint, the change produced by these solemn hours, like a stream whose direction is suddenly altered by the harsh shock of a bank against which it has struck. All faults, even the least, even the failings, appear with clarity, in the presence of death, as atoms of dust become visible when the ray of sunlight penetrates a room where it has been darkened. I noticed them then, and since then, I hope, I have always noticed them. I was sitting with my head bowed on my breast, deeply absorbed in this solemn train of thought, when I was suddenly roused from it by a very distinct sound of knocking, such as would be made by a man wishing to attract attention. I sprang to my feet and looked into the growing darkness, without being able to discern from which direction it came. I had already almost persuaded myself that my senses had deceived me, when the noise was repeated, louder than the first time. I looked up and saw a figure watching me through the loophole, or rather a part of the figure, for I could only see the eye and the edge of the cheek. As I mounted my seat, I perceived that it was none other than the farmer who had kept me company on the road. “Hush, my boy!” he said in a low voice, in the purest English, and no longer in the western dialect as in the morning. He put his finger through the narrow slit, to invite me to silence. “Speak quietly, or the guard may hear us… What can I do for you?” “How did you know where I am?” I asked in astonishment. “Why, my man,” he replied, “I know this house as well as Beaufort himself knows it. Before Badminton was built, my brothers and I spent more than a day climbing the old Botelers’ tower. This is not the first time I have spoken through this window. But quickly, what can I do for you? ” “I am obliged to you, sir,” I replied, “but I fear there is nothing you can do to be of use to me, unless indeed you are able to inform my friends in the army of what has happened to me. ” “For that, I could do it,” replied Farmer Brown. Listen, my boy, to what I am going to whisper to you, and which I have not breathed a word of to anyone until now. My conscience sometimes reproaches me that we are propping up a Papist, to make him rule over a Protestant nation. That the rulers are as the ruled, that is my opinion. At the election, I rode to Sudbury, and voted for Master Evans, of Turnford, who was for the Exclusionists. To be sure, if the Bill in question had passed, the Duke would have sat on his father’s throne. The law would have said yes. Now it says no. It is a very funny thing, the law, with its yes, yes, no, no, like those of Barclay, the Quaker, who came this way, all dressed in sheepskin, and called the vicar a man with a steeple on his head. The law is there. There’s no point in firing shots at her, or running pikes through her, or sending a squadron against her. If she starts by saying no, she’ll say no until the end of the chapter. We might as well fight against the book of Genesis. Let Monmouth change the law, and that will do more for him than all the Dukes of England. For, after all, he’s a Protestant, and I would like to do my best to serve him. “You see,” I said, “Captain Lockarby serves in the regiment of the Colonel Saxon, to Monmouth’s army. If things turn out badly for me, I would consider it a sign of great kindness on your part if you would express my affection to him and ask him to announce the event, either by word of mouth or by letter, with all due consideration, to the people of Havant. If I were certain this would be done, it would be a great relief to my mind. “It shall be done, my lad,” said the good farmer. “I will send my safest man and my swiftest horse this very evening, to see what trouble you are in. I have a file here that may be of use to you. ” “No,” I replied, “the help of men can do very little for me here. ” “There was once a hole in the vault. Look up, and see if there is any sign of an opening.” “The vault is very high,” I replied, looking up, “but there is no sign of an opening. ” “There was one,” he repeated. “My brother Roger came down that way with a rope. In the old days, that was how prisoners were lowered, as they did for Joseph, into the well. The door is quite modern. ” “Whether there is a hole or not, it can be of no use to me ,” I replied. “It is impossible for me to climb up there. Do not stay any longer, my friend, or you may get into trouble. ” “Then farewell, my good heart!” he said in a low voice. And the gray eye, so full of honesty, disappeared from the window, as did the red patch of cheek. Many times, during that long evening, I looked up, in the foolish hope that he might perhaps return. The slightest rustling of the branches outside made me leave my seat, but it was indeed the last time I had seen Farmer Brown. This friendly visit, short as it had been, greatly eased my mind, for I had the promise of a trustworthy man, that, whatever might happen, my friends would know something of my fate. It was now quite dark. I was pacing up and down the little room, when I heard the key rattle in the door. The captain came in, carrying a lamp and a large bowl of bread and milk. “Here is your supper, my friend,” said he. “Take it, whether you have an appetite or not, for it will give you strength to conduct yourself like a man when the time you know comes. They say it was a fine thing to see My Lord Russell die on the mound of the Tower. Have a heart. May people say the same of you! His Grace is in a terrible humor.” He paces back and forth, bites his lip, clenches his fists like a man who can barely control his anger. It may not be against you, but I don’t see what else has made him so angry. I didn’t respond to this Job-like consoler. So he soon left me, after placing the bowl on the seat and the lamp beside it. I ate all that was served to me and then, feeling better, I lay down on the bunk and fell into a dreamless sleep. This sleep probably lasted three or four hours. I was suddenly roused by a noise like the creaking of hinges. I sat up and looked around. The lamp had finally gone out and the cell was plunged into impenetrable darkness. A grayish glow at one end alone vaguely indicated the location of the opening. Elsewhere everything was dense blackness. I strained my ears, but I heard no sound. And yet I was certain that I had not been mistaken, certain that the noise that had awakened me had occurred inside my own room. I got up and felt my way around the walls, walking slowly and running my hand along the walls and the door. Then I walked in all directions over the floor to assess the state of the floor. Around me, as under my feet, I recognized no change. From then on, where did the noise come from? I sat down on the edge of the bed and waited patiently in the hope of hearing it a second time. It was soon repeated. It was a dull groan, a creaking like that which occurs when one slowly and carefully moves a door or shutter which has remained motionless for a long time. At the same time, a dark yellow light appeared above, coming out of a thin slit in the concave vaulted roof which was above me. While I watched it, this slit gradually widened and enlarged as if a sliding panel were being pulled, and finally I saw a fairly large hole, through which a head was looking at me, its outline outlined by the confused light which was behind it.
The knotted end of a rope was passed through this opening and fell almost to the floor of the prison. It was a thick, strong hemp rope, strong enough to bear the weight of a heavy man, and on pulling on it, I found that it was tightly secured at the top. Evidently my unknown benefactor wished me to use it to ascend. So I did, using one hand after the other. I had some difficulty in getting my shoulders through the hole, and succeeded in reaching the room above. While I was still rubbing my eyes after this sudden passage from darkness to light, the rope was quickly hauled up, and the sliding panel closed. For those who were not in the secret, there was nothing left to explain my disappearance. I found myself in the presence of a plump, short man, dressed in a coarse jerkin and sheepskin breeches, which gave him, to a certain extent, the appearance of a stable-boy. He had a large felt hat pulled very low over his eyes, and the bottom of his face was surrounded by a thick cravat. He held a horn lantern, the light of which enabled me to see that the room in which we were located was the same size as the dungeon below it, and differed only in the presence of a large window, which looked out onto the park. There was no furniture in this room, but it was crossed by a large beam, to which had been secured the rope that had served for my ascent. “Speak quietly, friend,” said the stranger. “The walls are thick, and the doors close well, but I do not want your guards to know by what means you were vanished. ” “To tell the truth, sir,” I replied, “I can hardly believe that it is anything other than a dream. It is extraordinary that anyone can penetrate my prison so easily, and even more extraordinary for me to find a friend who is willing to expose himself thus for me.” “Look over here,” he said, lowering his lantern so as to illuminate the part of the floor where the panel was embedded, “do you not see how old and moldy the masonry surrounding it is? This opening in the roof is as old as the dungeon itself, and much older than the door through which you were introduced. It was, in fact, one of those bottle-shaped cells or oubliettes, which the rude people of old had invented for the safe keeping of their prisoners. Once lowered through this hole into the stone-walled well, the man had nothing left to do but gnaw at his heart, for his fate was sealed. And yet, as you see, the same process which formerly prevented his escape has now restored you to liberty. ” “Thanks to your clemency, Monseigneur,” I said, casting a penetrating glance at my interlocutor. “Now, enough of this disguise!” he cried sulkily , throwing back the broad-brimmed hat and showing, as I expected, the features of the Duke. Even an inexperienced young soldier sees through my efforts to remain incognito. I fear I will make a poor conspirator, Captain, for I have an open temper… Yes, after all, like yours. I could not choose a better term of comparison. “Once one has heard Your Grace’s voice, one does not easily forget it,” I said. “Especially when it speaks of hemp and prisons,” he replied, smiling. “But if I have put you in prison, you must confess that I have offered you compensation by withdrawing you from it at the end of my line, as one draws a stickleback from a bottle. But how did you come to deliver such papers to me in the presence of my council? ” “I have done my best to deliver them privately,” I said, ” and I have sent you a message for that purpose.” “True,” he replied, “but messages of this sort come to me from every soldier who wants to sell his sword, from every inventor who has a long tongue and a shallow purse. How could I guess that the matter was really important? ” “I was afraid of letting slip a chance that might never return,” I said. “I have been informed that Your Grace has little leisure at the present time. ” “I cannot blame you,” he replied, pacing the room, “but it was unfortunate. I could have concealed the dispatches, but that would have excited suspicion. Your plan would have been discovered. There are many people who envy my high fortune, and who would jump at an opportunity to injure me with King James. Sunderland or Somers, any of them, would fan the slightest rumor into a flame that would be impossible to extinguish. There was therefore no other course to take but to show the papers.” The most venomous tongue could find nothing to blame in my conduct. What attitude would you have advised in such circumstances? “The one that would have consisted of going straight to the point,” I replied. “Yes, yes, Mr. Probity, but public men are required to walk with all possible caution, for the straight line would too often lead them to the edge of the precipice. The Tower would not be large enough to accommodate all its guests, if everyone went with their heart in their hand. But to you, in this tête-à-tête, I can express my true thoughts without fear of being betrayed or misunderstood. I will not write a word on paper. Your memory must be the sheet that will bear my answer to Monmouth. And to begin with, erase everything you heard in the Council chamber. Let it be as if nothing had been said! Is that a fact? ” “I understand that this did not represent Your Grace ‘s true thoughts . ” “Far from it, Captain.” But I pray you, tell me what reasons do the rebels have for counting on success? You must have heard your colonel and others discussing this subject, or noticed from their attitude what they thought of it. Do we have good hope of standing up to the King’s troops? “So far,” I replied, “we have had nothing but success.” “Against the militia. But they will see that it is quite different when they have to deal with trained troops. And yet!… and yet… There is one thing I know, that any failure of Feversham’s army would cause a general uprising throughout the country. On the other hand, the King’s party is active. Every courier brings us news of reinforcements by levies. Albemarle still maintains the militia in the West. The Earl of Pembroke is in arms in the County of Wilts. Lord Lumley arrives from the East with the Sussex troops. The Earl of Abingdon holds the County of Oxford. At the University, caps and gowns everywhere give way to helmets and breastplates. James’s Dutch regiments have embarked at Amsterdam. And Yet Monmouth has won two battles. Why should he not win a third? The waters are troubled—very troubled. The Duke paced back and forth, frowning, saying all this to himself rather than to me, nodding his head with the air of a man in the most embarrassing uncertainty. “I wish you to tell Monmouth,” he said at last, “that I am grateful to him for the papers he has sent me, that I will read and examine them with due attention, and that I would help him if I were not hindered by people who are close to me and who would denounce me if I let my true thoughts be seen. Tell him that if he brings his army into this country, I may then declare myself openly for him, but that to do so at this moment would be to ruin the fortunes of my house without being of any use to him. Can you carry this message to him? ” “I will, Your Grace.” “Tell me,” he asked, “how is Monmouth behaving in this enterprise?” “A wise and valiant leader,” I replied. “It is strange,” he murmured. “At court, it was constantly said, as a joke, that he had scarcely enough energy or constancy to finish a game of ball, and that he always threw down his racket before he had landed the winning shot. His plans were like a weathervane, turning in every wind. His only constant was his inconstancy. It is true that he commanded the King’s troops in Scotland, but everyone knew that Claverhouse and Dalzell were the real victors at Bothwell Bridge. In my opinion, he resembles that Brutus of Roman history who feigned weakness to mask his ambitions. ” The Duke had repeated his remarks, which he addressed to himself rather than to me. So I made no remark, except to remind you that Monmouth had won the hearts of the common people. “That is his strength,” said Beaufort. “He has his mother’s blood in his veins. He does not think it beneath him to shake the dirty hand of Jerry the Tinker, or to dispute the prize of the race with a rustic on the village green. It was these same rustics who supported him, when friends of the high nobility remained aloof. I wish I could read into the future. But you have my message, Captain, and I hope that if you change anything in making it known, it will be to put more warmth and kindness into it. Now it is time for you to leave, for the guards will be relieved in less than three hours and your escape will be discovered. ” “But how to leave?” I asked. “This way,” he answered, opening the window and sliding the rope over the beam in this direction. The rope may be a foot or two too short, but you have enough left to make up for it. When you have landed, follow the sandy path that curves to the right until it brings you under the tall trees in the park. The seventh of these trees has a large branch that passed over the boundary wall. Climb this branch and drop down on the other side. There you will find my servant waiting for you with your horse. And in the saddle, use the spur, in all haste, with the speed of the post, in a southerly direction. When it is daylight, you must be out of the dangerous ground. “My sword!” I demanded. “All that belongs to you is here. Tell Monmouth again what I have told you and let him know that I have treated you with all possible kindness. ” “But what will your Grace’s Council say, when they hear of my disappearance?” “Phew! My boy, don’t worry about that.” I will leave for Bristol at daybreak and give my council enough to think about so that they will not have time to think about what has become of you. The soldiers will see this as just another example of the intervention of the Father of Evil, who has long been considered to be in love with this cell below us. Upon my word, if all that is said is true, enough horrible things have happened there to drive every devil into the abyss. But time is pressing. Come quietly through the window. That’s it! Remember the message. “Farewell, Your Grace,” I replied. And, seizing the rope, I slid quickly and noiselessly to the ground . Then he hauled it up and closed the window. When I looked around, my gaze fell upon the narrow crack that opened into my cell and through which that good Farmer Brown had been talking to me. Half an hour before, I had been lying on the prison bunk, without hope, without any idea of escape. And now I am out in the open air again. No hand reaches out to stop me. I breathe freely. Prison and gallows are gone too, like bad dreams that one chases away when one wakes. The heart, capable of being well tempered, softens thanks to the certainty of security. Thus I have seen an honest merchant behave bravely as long as he was convinced that his fortune had been swallowed up by the Ocean, but lose all his philosophy on learning that the news was false, and that his goods had passed through the peril safe and sound. For my part, assured as I am that chance has no part in human affairs, I felt that I had been subjected to this test to inspire me with serious thoughts, and that I had been drawn from it in order to be able to translate these thoughts into actions. As a pledge of the efforts that I would make towards this goal, I knelt on the grass in the shadow of the Botelers tower, and I prayed, in order to become a useful man in this world, to obtain the necessary help to raise me above my needs and my interests to contribute to all that would be done good or noble in my time. It has been a good fifty years, my dear children, since the day I bowed my mind before the great Unknown in the moonlit Badminton Park, but I can honestly say that from that day until the present, the objects I had set before me have served me as a compass on the dark waves of life—a compass which I sometimes fail to obey—for the flesh is weak and frail, but which at least has always been there for me to consult in times of doubt and danger. The path on the right led through thickets and along ponds populated by carp for a good mile. At last I came to the line of trees which followed the boundary wall. I saw not a living being on my way, except a herd of deer which fled like light shadows in the fading moonlight . I turned around. I saw the tall towers and gables of the Botelers’ wing silhouetted menacingly in black against the starry sky. I reached the seventh tree. I climbed the thick branch that hung over the park wall and dropped down on the other side, where I found my good old dappled gray waiting for me under the watchful eye of a groom. I sprang into the saddle, girded myself once more with my sword, and galloped off, as fast as four willing legs could carry, to return to my starting point. I rode all that night without pulling the reins, passing through sleepy hamlets, past farms bathed in moonlight, along shining, stealthy streams, and over birch-covered hills. When the eastern sky changed from red to scarlet, and the great sun showed its rim above the blue heights of Somersetshire, I had already completed a good part of my journey. It was the morning of a Sabbath day, and from all the villages came the sweet ringing of the bells. I no longer carried compromising papers with me. So I could travel with more carelessness. Somewhere, a keen-eyed roadkeeper asked me where I was going, but when I told him I came from His Grace the Duke of Beaufort, that was enough to dispel his suspicions. Further on, near Axbridge, I met a cattle dealer who was going to Wells at the heavy trot of his shining cob. I rode for some time in his company and learned that the whole of the northern part of Somerset was now in full revolt, and that Wells, Shepton Mallet, and Glastonbury were occupied by King Monmouth’s armed volunteers. All the royal forces had fallen back to the West or East, until reinforcements arrived. As I passed through the villages, I saw the blue flag on the church steeples, the peasants practicing on the lawn, and nowhere did I see foot soldiers or dragoons to acknowledge the authority of the Stuarts. My journey took me through Shepton Diallet, the Pied Piper’s Inn, Bridgewater, and North Petherton. At last, when the cool of evening came, I halted my weary horse at the sign of the Clasped Hands and saw the steeples of Taunton in the valley below me. A jug of ale for the rider, a large bucket of oats for the horse, revived both of us, and we were on our way again, when there came running down the slope with all the speed they could muster, about forty horsemen. They were going at such a pace that I stopped, not knowing whether they were friends or enemies, but when this whirlwind arrived near me, I recognized in the two officers who led them, Reuben Lockarby and Sir Gervas Jerome. On seeing me, they waved their hands, and Reuben made a leap which threw him onto the mane of his horse, where he remained for a moment, leg this way, leg that way, until the moment when the animal threw him back in the saddle. “It’s Micah!” he cried in a panting voice. After which he remained with his mouth open, tears gushing down his good face. “Holy raven, my friend! How did you come here?” said Sir Gervas, prodding me with his forefinger as if to assure himself that I was there in the flesh . We were going like lost children to the country of Beaufort, to thrash him and burn his beautiful house under his nose, if anything had happened to you. A stable-boy arrived only a moment ago, sent by a farmer down there, to inform us that you were under sentence of death. Whereupon I went away, with my wig half-curled, and learned that friend Lockarby had obtained leave from Lord Grey to go to the North with these men. But how have you been treated? “Good and bad,” I replied, shaking hands with friends. ” Last night I did not expect to see another sunrise, and yet you see me here again, well and complete. But it would take time to tell all that. ” “Aye, and King Monmouth will be on the thorns, waiting for you. Turn about, my lads, and off to camp. Never was a mission more quickly and happily ended than ours. It would have been bad for Badminton if you had been damaged.” The troops turned and trotted back to Taunton, where I returned between my two faithful friends. They told me everything that had happened in my absence, and for my part I related my adventures to them. Night had fallen before we had passed through the gates. There I entrusted Covenant to the care of the Mayor’s stable boy and went straight to the castle to report on my mission. Chapter 11. The Quarrel in the Council. At the time I presented myself, King Monmouth’s Council was assembled, and my entrance caused a joyful surprise, for they were just coming to learn of my perilous situation. The presence of the King himself could not prevent several members, and among them the two old soldiers of fortune, from rising abruptly and shaking my hand warmly. Monmouth, too, said a few gracious words and invited me to sit at the table with the others. “You have won the right to take a place in our Council, ” he said, “and that jealousy may not arise among other captains, upon seeing you in our midst, I now grant you the special title of Commander of the Scouts, an office which will add little, if anything, to your present task, in the present state of our forces, but which will give you precedence over your comrades. We have learned that you were received by Beaufort in the rudest manner and that you were in a terrible situation in his prisons. But you have arrived safe and sound, on the very heels of the man who brought the news.” Tell us what happened to you from the first moment to the end. I would have liked to confine myself to speaking of Beaufort and his message, but as the Council seemed eager to hear the whole story of my voyage, I told in language as brief and as simple as possible, the various incidents which had happened to me , the ambush of the smugglers, the cave, the capture of the Exciseman, the voyage on board the lugger, how I had become acquainted with Farmer Brown, how I had been thrown into prison and released, the message which I was commissioned to deliver. All this was listened to by the Council with the greatest attention. From time to time, an ill-contained oath from a courtier, a groan and a prayer from a Puritan, showed with what ardent interest the various phases of my adventure were being followed. But what attracted most attention was Beaufort’s language. I was interrupted more than once when it was thought that I was passing over something said or done without giving time to appreciate it. When I had finally reached the end, everyone remained silent. They looked at each other, waiting for someone to express an opinion. “Upon my word,” said Monmouth, “here is a young Ulysses, though his Odyssey required only three days to complete. Scudéry would not be so tedious if it were inspired by this cavern, smugglers, and this sliding panel. What do you say to that, Grey? ” “Indeed, he has had his share of adventures,” replied the gentleman, “and he has fulfilled his mission like a fearless and zealous herald. You say Beaufort has given you nothing in writing? ” “Not a single word, my lord,” I replied. “And his confidential message was that he was well disposed toward us, and would join us, if we were in his country. ” “That was the meaning of his words, My Lord. ” “And yet, before his council, he has spoken bitter words against us. He has insulted the King, and treated very lightly his just appeals to the loyalty of his nobility. ” “He has,” I replied. “He would fain be on both sides of the hedge at once,” said King Monmouth. “A man of that sort will probably end up on neither side, but amidst the thorns. It may, however, be that we may find it advantageous to make a move on his part, so as to give him an opportunity of declaring himself. ” “At any rate, Your Majesty remembers,” said Saxon, “that we have decided to march in the direction of Bristol and make an attempt on the city.” “They are busy fortifying the works,” I said, “and there are five thousand volunteers there from the County of Gloucester. As I passed by, I saw the workmen at work on the ramparts. ” “If we gain Beaufort, we shall have the city,” said Sir Stephen Timewell. “There are already a number of pious and honest people there, who are would rejoice to see a Protestant army within their walls. If we had to lay siege, we could count on their assistance. “Hail and lightning!” cried the German warrior with an impatience that the King’s very presence could not contain. “How can we talk of sieges and blockades, when we have not even a siege gun with us? ” “The Lord will provide us with siege guns,” cried Ferguson, in his strange, nasal voice. “Did not the Lord break down the towers of Jericho without the aid of gunpowder? Did not the Lord raise up brave Robert Ferguson? Did not he save him in spite of thirty-five summons to appear and twenty-two proclamations from the impious? What thing is impossible for him? Hosannah! Hosannah!” “The Doctor is right,” said a square-faced, tanned English Independent , “we talk too much about the means of the flesh, the chances of the century, and we count without that celestial benevolence which should serve us as a stick on roads full of stones and quagmires… Yes, gentlemen,” he continued, raising his voice and looking at the courtiers seated on the other side of the table, “you may receive pious words with a mocking air, but I tell you, it is you, with your like, who will bring down the wrath of God on this army. ” “And I say so too,” cried another sectarian fiercely. “And I too… And I too,” cried several others, among whom was Saxon. “Does Your Majesty find it right that we are insulted at the table of your own Council?” cried one of the courtiers, rising suddenly, his face reddening. Will we have to endure this violence for much longer, because we have the religion of the gentleman, and we prefer to practice it in the privacy of our hearts rather than on street corners with these Pharisees? “Do not speak against the Saints of God,” cried a Puritan in a loud and fierce tone. “I hear within me a voice which tells me that it would be better to strike you to death, yes, even in the presence of the King, rather than allow you to sow contempt on those who have been regenerated.” Several, on both sides, had risen. Hands were placed on sword hilts and glances were exchanged more terrible than rapier blows. But the calmer and more reasonable councilors succeeded in restoring peace and in making the squabbling adversaries return to their places. “What do you mean, gentlemen?” cried the King, his face darkening with anger, when silence was finally restored. “Does my authority end there, that they gossip and argue as if my council chamber were a Fleet Street tavern? Is this how you respect my person? I tell you, I would rather renounce forever my just rights to the crown and return to Holland, or devote my sword to the defense of Christianity against the Turk than suffer such indignity. If anyone is convicted of stirring up discord among the soldiers or citizens under the color of religion, I know what I shall have to do with him. Let each preach to his own, let no one meddle with his neighbor’s flock.” As for you, Mr. Bramwell, and Mr. Joyce, and you, Mr. Henry Nuttall, we will consider you excused from attending these meetings until such time as we shall think of you again. You may now separate and return each to your quarters. Tomorrow morning, with God’s help, we will set out in a northerly direction, to see what fortune awaits our enterprise in those parts. The King bowed to indicate that the official meeting was over, and taking Lord Grey aside into a window, he conversed with him with a preoccupied air. The Courtiers, who numbered among them several Englishmen and Foreign gentlemen, who came with some esquires from the counties of Devon and Somerset, came out in a mass, with a defiant air, with a great clang of spurs and sabers. The Puritans grouped themselves together, grave-faced, and set off after them, not with reserved manners and lowered eyes, as they usually did, but with fierce features, furrowed brows, and such as the Jews of old displayed themselves when the call To your tents, Israel still vibrated in their ears. Truly religious discord, sectarian ardor were in the air. Outside, on the castle lawn, the voices of the preachers rose like the buzzing of insects. All the carts, barrels, and crates that chance had placed at their disposal were changed into so many pulpits, each with its speaker and its small circle of eager listeners. Here it was a volunteer from Taunton, in a homespun suit, high boots and a shoulder strap, who was discoursing on Justification by Works. Elsewhere a grenadier of the militia, in a flaming red coat, with white buffaloes, was delving into the mystery of the Trinity. At certain points, where the improvised pulpits were too close together, the sermons had turned into a heated discussion between the two preachers, and the audience participated in it with muffled murmurs , groans, and each applauded the champion whose doctrines were most in conformity with his own. It was through this scene, made even more striking by the red and flickering light of the bivouac fires, that I made my way, with a heavy heart, for I felt how vain it was to hope for success, when so much discord reigned. As for Saxon, his eyes shone. He rubbed his hands with satisfaction. “The ferment is working,” he said, “and that ferment will produce results. ” “I don’t see what can come of it except disorder and weakness ,” I replied. “Good soldiers will come of it, my boy,” he said. “They are being sharpened, each in his own way, on the stone of religion. These disputes breed fanatics, and the fanatic is the stuff of which conquerors are made. Have you not heard that Old Noll’s army was divided into Presbyterians, Independents, Antinomians, Fifth Monarchy Men, Brownists, and a score of other sects, whose quarrels created the finest regiments that ever lined up on a battlefield. As do those who establish their faith On the sword and gun as their sacred text. You know that couplet of old Samuel. I tell you, I prefer to see them busy with that than with their exercise, with all their bickering and uproar. “But this disagreement in the Council?” I asked. “Ah! That is a more serious matter. All religions can be welded together. But the Puritan and the Libertine are like oil and water. But the Puritan is the oil, for he is always at the top. These courtiers have only themselves in mind; while the others have behind them the elite, the backbone of the army. It is fortunate that we are marching tomorrow. The royal troops, as I have learned, are pouring into Salisbury Plain, but their artillery and their convoys of supplies are delaying them. They know very well that they must bring everything they need and that they must count very little on the goodwill of the peasants of the region. Ah! Friend Buyse, how are things going?” “Gans gut,” said the fat German, who appeared before us in the darkness. “But Sapperment! What clamour! What croaking, you sound like a flock of crows at bedtime. You English are—yes, thunder and lightning!—a singular people. There are not two of you under heaven who are of the same opinion on any subject. The Cavalier insists on his fine clothes and his frank speech. The Puritan will cut your throat rather than give up his dark suit and his Bible. King James I, some shout. King Monmouth, the peasants shout. King Jesus, say the Men of the Fifth Monarchy: Down with all Kings! shout Master Wade and some others who hold for the Republic. Since the day I embarked at Amsterdam on the Helderenbergh, I have always felt my head spinning when I tried to understand what you want, for before one has finished explaining his case, and I begin to see a little clearly in the Finsterniss darkness, another arrives with another story, and there I am in the same embarrassment as at the first moment. But you, my young Hercules, I am really glad to see you returned safe and sound. I hesitate a little to offer you my hand, after the treatment you have given him recently. I hope you are all the better for it, despite the dangers you have been in. “To tell the truth,” I replied, “my eyelids are very heavy. Except for an hour or two on the lugger and about as long on the prison bunk, I have not slept since I left the camp. ” “Muster at the second blast of the bugle, about eight o’clock!” said Saxon. ” So we will leave you so that you can rest from your fatigues. ” The two old soldiers, after nodding farewell to me, strode together toward the crowded street called Fore Street, while I made my way as best I could to reach the Mayor’s hospitable dwelling. And I had to begin my story all over again before I was finally allowed to return to my room. Thus concludes the second volume of Micah Clarke’s adventures, where youthful ideals collide with the harsh realities of war and politics. Through this gripping tale, Arthur Conan Doyle offers us not only a historical chronicle, but also a meditation on loyalty, courage, and the quest for honor. By accompanying Micah through his trials, we discover how decisions made in the midst of turmoil shape both the man and his era. Thank you for sharing this literary journey, and stay tuned for more exciting discoveries.
1 Comment
👍 N'oubliez pas de liker, partager, commenter et vous abonner ! 🔔📲