Friends, though divided by G. A. Henty

G >> G. A. Henty >> Friends, though divided

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

The next day there was bustle and hurry at Furness Hall. The ponds were
dragged for fish; the poultry yard was scoured for its finest birds; the
keepers were early afield, and when they returned with piles of hares
and rabbits, these were seized by the cook and converted into huge pies
and pasties. Two sheep were slaughtered, and the scullions were hard at
work making confections of currants, gooseberries, plums, and other
fruits from the garden. In the great hall the tables were laid, and when
this was done, and all was in readiness, the serving men were called up
to the armory, and there, throughout the day, the cleaning of swords and
iron caps, the burnishing of breast and back pieces, the cleaning of
firelocks, and other military work went on with all haste.

The Furness estates covered many a square mile of Berkshire, and fifty
sturdy yeomen dismounted before Furness Hall at the hour named by Sir
Henry. A number of grooms and serving men were in attendance, and took
the horses as they rode up, while the major-domo conducted them to the
great picture gallery. Here they were received by Sir Henry with a
stately cordiality, and the maids handed round a great silver goblet
filled with spiced wine.

At four exactly the major-domo entered and announced that the quota was
complete, and that every one of those summoned was present.

"Serve the tables then," Sir Henry said, as he led the Way to the great
dining-hall.

Sir Henry took the head of the broad table, and bade Harry sit on his
right hand, while the oldest of the tenants faced him at the opposite
end. Then a troop of servants entered bearing smoking joints, cold
boars' heads, fish, turkeys, geese, and larded capons. These were
placed upon the table, with an abundance of French wine, and of strong
ale for those who preferred it, to wash down the viands. The first
courses were followed by dishes of meats and confections, and when all
was finished and cleared away Sir Henry Furness rose to his feet.

"Fill your glasses all," he said; "and bumpers. The toast which I give
you to-day is 'The king, God bless him.' Never should Englishmen drink
his health more earnestly and solemnly than to-day, when rebels have
driven him from his capital, and pestilent traitors threatened him with
armed force. Perhaps, my friends, you, like me, may from time to time
have grumbled when the tax-collectors have come round, and you have seen
no one warrant for their demands. But if the king has been forced so to
exceed his powers, it was in no slight degree because those at
Westminster refused to grant him the sums which were needful. He has,
too, been surrounded by bad advisers. I myself loved not greatly either
Stratford or Laud. But I would rather bear their high-handed ways, which
were at least aimed to strengthen the kingdom and for the honor of the
king, than be ground by these petty tyrants at Westminster, who would
shut up our churches, forbid us to smile on a Sunday, or to pray, except
through our noses; who would turn merry England into a canting
conventicle, and would rule us with a rod to which that of the king were
as a willow wand. Therefore it is the duty of all true men and good to
drink the health of his majesty the king, and confusion to his enemies."

Upstanding, and with enthusiastic shouts, the whole of the tenants drank
the toast. Sir Henry was pleased with the spirit which was manifested,
and when the cheering had subsided and quiet was again restored, he went
on:

"My friends, I have summoned you here to tell you what many of you no
doubt know already--that the king, driven from London by the traitors of
Parliament, who would take from him all power, would override the peers,
and abolish the Church, has appealed to his faithful subjects to stand
by him, and to maintain his cause. He will, ere a fortnight be past,
raise his banner at Nottingham. Already Sir John Hotham, the rebel
Governor of York, has closed the gates of that city to him, and it is
time that all loyal men were on foot to aid his cause. Lord Falkland has
been pleased to grant me a commission to raise a troop of horse in his
service, and I naturally come to you first, to ask you to follow me."

He paused a moment, and a shout of assent rang through the hall.

"There are," he said, "some among you whom years may prevent from
yourselves undertaking the hardships of the field, but these can send
substitutes in their sons. You will understand that none are compelled
to go; but I trust that from the long-standing friendship between us,
and from the duty which you each owe to the king, none will hold back.
Do I understand that all here are willing to join, or to furnish
substitutes?"

A general shout of "All" broke from the tenants.

"Thank you, my friends, I expected nothing else. This will give me fifty
good men, and true, and I hope that each will be able to bring with him
one, two, or more men, in proportion to the size of his holding. I shall
myself bear the expense of the arms and outfit of all these; but we must
not strip the land of hands. Farming must still go on, for people must
feed, even if there be war. As to the rents, we must waive our
agreements while the war lasts. Each man will pay me what proportion of
his rent he is able, and no more. The king will need money as well as
men, and as all I receive will be at his service, I know that each of
you will pay as much as he can to aid the common cause. I have here a
list of your names. My son will take it round to each, and will write
down how many men each of you may think to bring with him to the war. No
man must be taken unwillingly. I want only those whose hearts are in the
cause. My son is grieving that he is not old enough to ride with us; but
should aught befall me in the strife, I have bade him ride and take his
place among you."

Another cheer arose, and Harry went round the table taking down the
names and numbers of the men, and when his total was added up, it was
found that those present believed that they could bring a hundred men
with them into the field.

"This is beyond my hopes," Sir Harry said, as amid great cheering he
announced the result. "I myself will raise another fifty from my grooms,
gardeners, and keepers, and from brave lads I can gather in the village,
and I shall be proud indeed when I present to his majesty two hundred
men of Furness, ready to die in his defense."

After this there was great arrangement of details. Each tenant gave a
list of the arms which he possessed and the number of horses fit for
work, and as in those days, by the law of the land each man, of
whatsoever his degree, was bound to keep arms in order to join the
militia, should his services be required for the defense of the kingdom,
the stock of arms was, with the contents of Sir Henry's armory, found to
be sufficient for the number of men who were to be raised. It was eight
o'clock in the evening before all was arranged, and the party broke up
and separated to their homes.

For the next week there was bustle and preparation on the Furness
estates, as, indeed, through all England. As yet, however, the
Parliament were gathering men far more rapidly than the king. The
Royalists of England were slow to perceive how far the Commons intended
to press their demands, and could scarcely believe that civil war was
really to break out. The friends of the Commons, however, were
everywhere in earnest. The preachers in the conventicles throughout the
land denounced the king in terms of the greatest violence, and in almost
every town the citizens were arming and drilling. Lord Essex, who
commanded the Parliamentary forces, was drawing toward Northampton with
ten thousand men, consisting mainly of the train-bands of London; while
the king, with only a few hundred followers, was approaching Nottingham,
where he proposed to unfurl his standard and appeal to his subjects.

In a week from the day of the appeal of Sir Henry two troops, each of a
hundred men strong, drew up in front of Furness Hall. To the eye of a
soldier accustomed to the armies of the Continent, with their bands
trained by long and constant warfare, the aspect of this troop might not
have appeared formidable. Each man was dressed according to his fancy.
Almost all wore jack-boots coming nigh to the hip, iron breast and back
pieces, and steel caps. Sir Henry Furness and four gentlemen, his
friends, who had seen service in the Low Countries, and had now gladly
joined his band, took their places, Sir Henry himself at the head of the
body, and two officers with each troop. They, too, were clad in high
boots, with steel breast and back pieces, thick buff leather gloves, and
the wide felt hats with feathers which were worn in peace time. During
the war some of the Royalist officers wore iron caps as did their foes.
But the majority, in a spirit of defiance and contempt of their enemies,
wore the wide hat of the times, which, picturesque and graceful as it
was, afforded but a poor defense for the head. Almost all wore their
hair long and in ringlets, and across their shoulders were the white
scarfs typical of their loyalty to the king. Harry bestrode a fine horse
which his father had given him, and had received permission to ride for
half the day's march by his side at the head of the troop. The trumpeter
sounded the call, Sir Henry stood up in his stirrups, drew his sword and
waved it over his head, and shouted "For God and King." Two hundred
swords flashed in the air, and the answering shout came out deep and
full. Then the swords were sheathed, the horses' heads turned, and with
a jingle of sabers and accouterments the troop rode gayly out through
the gates of the park.

Upon their way north they were joined by more than one band of Cavaliers
marching in the same direction, and passed, too, several bodies of
footmen, headed by men with closely-cropped heads, and somber figures,
beside whom generally marched others whom their attire proclaimed to be
Puritan preachers, on their way to join the army of Essex. The parties
scowled at each other as they passed; but as yet no sword had been drawn
on either side, and without adventure they arrived at Nottingham.

Having distributed his men among the houses of the town, Sir Henry
Furness rode to the castle, where his majesty had arrived the day
before. He had already the honor of the personal acquaintance of the
king, for he had in one of the early parliaments sat for Oxford.
Disgusted, however, with the spirit that prevailed among the opponents
of the king, and also by the obstinacy and unconstitutional course
pursued by his majesty, he had at the dissolution of Parliament retired
to his estate, and when the next House was summoned, declined to stand
again for his seat.

"Welcome, Sir Henry," his majesty said graciously to him, "you are
among the many who withstood me somewhat in the early days of my reign,
and perchance you were right to do so; but who have now, in my need,
rallied round me, seeing whither the purpose of these traitorous
subjects of mine leads them. You are the more welcome that you have, as
I hear, brought two hundred horsemen with you, a number larger than any
which has yet joined me. These," he said, pointing to two young noblemen
near him, "are my nephews, Rupert and Maurice, who have come to join
me."

Upon making inquiries, Sir Henry found that the prospects of the king
were far from bright. So far, the Royalists had been sadly behindhand
with their preparations. The king had arrived with scarce four hundred
men. He had left his artillery behind at York for want of carriage, and
his need in arms was even greater than in men, as the arsenals of the
kingdom had all been seized by the Parliament. Essex lay at Northampton
with ten thousand men, and had he at this time advanced, even the most
sanguine of the Royalists saw that the struggle would be a hopeless one.

The next day, at the hour appointed, the royal standard was raised on
the Castle of Nottingham, in the midst of a great storm of wind and
rain, which before many hours had passed blew the royal standard to the
ground--an omen which those superstitiously inclined deemed of evil
augury indeed. The young noblemen and gentlemen, however, who had
gathered at Northampton, were not of a kind to be daunted by omens and
auguries, and finding that Essex did not advance and hearing news from
all parts of the country that the loyal gentlemen were gathering their
tenants fast, their hopes rose rapidly. There was, indeed, some
discontent when it was known that, by the advice of his immediate
councilors, King Charles had dispatched the Earl of Southampton with
Sir John Collpeper and Sir William Uvedale to London, with orders to
treat with the Commons. The Parliament, however, refused to enter into
any negotiations whatever until the king lowered his standard and
recalled the proclamation which he had issued. This, which would have
been a token of absolute surrender to the Parliament, the king refused
to do. He attempted a further negotiation; but this also failed.

The troops at Nottingham now amounted to eleven hundred men, of which
three hundred were infantry raised by Sir John Digby, the sheriff of the
county. The other eight hundred were horse. Upon the breaking off of
negotiations, and the advance of Essex, the king, sensible that he was
unable to resist the advance of Essex, who had now fifteen thousand men
collected under him, fell back to Derby, and thence to Shrewsbury, being
joined on his way by many nobles and gentlemen with their armed
followers. At Wellington, a town a day's march from Shrewsbury, the king
had his little army formed up, and made a solemn declaration before them
in which he promised to maintain the Protestant religion, to observe the
laws, and to uphold the just privileges and freedom of Parliament.

The Furness band were not present on that occasion, as they had been
dispatched to Worcester with some other soldiers, the whole under the
command of Prince Rupert, in order to watch the movements of Essex, who
was advancing in that direction. While scouring the ground around the
city, they came upon a body of Parliamentary cavalry, the advance of the
army of Essex. The bands drew up at a little distance from each other,
and then Prince Rupert gave the command to charge. With the cheer of
"For God and the king!" the troop rushed upon the cavalry of the
Parliament with such force and fury that they broke them utterly, and
killing many, drove them in confusion from the field, but small loss to
themselves.

This was the first action of the civil war, the first blood drawn by
Englishmen from Englishmen since the troubles in the commencement of the
reign of Mary.

CHAPTER III.

A BRAWL AT OXFORD.

News in those days traveled but slowly, and England was full of
conflicting rumors as to the doings of the two armies. Every one was
unsettled. Bodies of men moving to join one or other of the parties kept
the country in an uproar, and the Cavaliers, or rather the toughs of the
towns calling themselves Cavaliers, brought much odium upon the royal
cause by the ill-treatment of harmless citizens, and by raids on
inoffensive country people. Later on this conduct was to be reversed and
the Royalists were to suffer tenfold the outrages now put upon the
Puritans. But there can be no doubt that the conduct of irresponsible
ruffians at that time did much to turn the flood of public opinion in
many places, where it would otherwise have remained neutral, against the
crown.

To Harry the time passed but slowly. He spent his days in Abingdon
hearing the latest news, and occasionally rode over to Oxford. This
city was throughout the civil war the heart of the Royalist party, and
its loss was one of the heaviest blows which befell the crown. Here
Harry found none but favorable reports current. Enthusiasm was at its
height. The university was even more loyal than the town, and bands of
lads smashed the windows of those persons who were supposed to favor the
Parliament. More than once Harry saw men pursued through the streets,
pelted with stones and mud, and in some cases escaping barely with
their lives. Upon one occasion, seeing a person in black garments and of
respectable appearance so treated, the boy's indignation was aroused,
for he himself, both from his conversations with his friend Herbert, and
the talk with his father, was, although enthusiastically Royalist, yet
inclined to view with respect those who held opposite opinions.

"Run down that alley!" he exclaimed, pushing his horse between the
fugitive and his pursuers.

The man darted down the lane, and Harry placed himself at the entrance,
and shouted to the rabble to abstain.

A yell of rage and indignation replied, and a volley of stones was
thrown. Harry fearlessly drew his sword, and cut at some of those who
were in the foreground. These retaliated with sticks, and Harry was
forced backward into the lane. This was too narrow to enable him to
turn, his horse, and his position was a critical one. Finding that he
was a mark for stones, he leaped from the saddle, thereby disappearing
from the sight of those in the ranks behind, and sword in hand, barred
the way to the foremost of his assailants. The contest, however, would
have been brief had not a party of young students come up the lane, and
seeing from Harry's attire that he was a gentleman, and likely to be of
Cavalier opinions, they at once, without inquiring the cause of the
fray, threw themselves into it, shouting "Gown! gown!" They speedily
drove the assailants back out of the lane; but these, reinforced by the
great body beyond, were then too strong for them. The shouts of the
young men, however, brought up others to their assistance, and a general
melee took place, townsmen and gownsmen throwing themselves into the
fray without any inquiry as to the circumstances from which it arose.
The young students carried swords, which, although contrary to the
statutes of the university, were for the time generally adopted. The
townspeople were armed with bludgeons, and in some cases with hangers,
and the fray was becoming a serious one, when it was abruptly terminated
by the arrival of a troop of horse, which happened to be coming into the
town to join the royal forces. The officer in command, seeing so
desperate a tumult raging, ordered his men to charge into the crowd, and
their interference speedily put an end to the fight.

Harry returned to their rooms with some of his protectors and their
wounds were bound up, and the circumstances of the fight were talked
over. Harry was much blamed by the college men when he said that he had
been drawn into the fray by protecting a Puritan. But when his new
friends learned that he was as thoroughly Royalist as themselves, and
that his father had gone with a troop to Nottingham, they took a more
favorable view of his action, but still assured him that it was the
height of folly to interfere to protect a rebel from the anger of the
townspeople.

"But, methinks," Harry said, "that it were unwise in the extreme to push
matters so far here. In Oxford the Royalists have it all their own way,
and can, of course, at will assault their Puritan neighbors. But it is
different in most other towns. There the Roundheads have the upper hand
and might retort by doing ill to the Cavaliers there. Surely it were
better to keep these unhappy differences out of private life, and to
trust the arbitration of our cause to the arms of our soldiers in the
field."

There was a general agreement that this would indeed be the wisest
course; but the young fellows were of opinion that hot heads on either
side would have their way, and that if the war went on attacks of this
kind by the one party on the other must be looked for.

Harry remained for some time with his friends in Christ church,
drinking the beer for which the college was famous. Then, mounting his
horse, he rode back to Abingdon.

Two days later, as he was proceeding toward the town, he met a man
dressed as a preacher.

"Young sir," the latter said, "may I ask if you are Master Furness?"

"I am," the lad replied.

"Then it is to you I am indebted for my rescue from those who assaulted
me in the streets of Oxford last week. In the confusion I could not see
your face, but I inquired afterward, and was told that my preserver was
Master Furness, and have come over to thank you for your courtesy and
bravery in thus intervening on behalf of one whom I think you regard as
an enemy, for I understand that Sir Henry, your father, has declared for
the crown."

"I acted," Harry said, "simply on the impulse of humanity, and hold it
mean and cowardly for a number of men to fall upon one."

"We are," the preacher continued, "at the beginning only of our
troubles, and the time may come when I, Zachariah Stubbs, may be able to
return to you the good service which you have done me. Believe me, young
sir, the feeling throughout England is strong for the Commons, and that
it will not be crushed out, as some men suppose, even should the king's
men gain a great victory over Essex--which, methinks, is not likely.
There are tens of thousands throughout the country who are now content
to remain quiet at home, who would assuredly draw the sword and go forth
to battle, should they consider their cause in danger. The good work has
begun, and the sword will not be sheathed until the oppressor is laid
low."

"We should differ who the oppressor is," Harry replied coldly. "I
myself am young to discuss these matters, but my father and those who
think with him consider that the oppression is at present on the side of
the Commons, and of those whose religious views you share. While
pretending to wish to be free, you endeavor to bind others beneath your
tyranny. While wishing to worship in your way unmolested, you molest
those who wish to worship in theirs. However, I thank you for your
offer, that should the time come your good services will be at my
disposal. As you say, the issue of the conflict is dark, and it may be,
though I trust it will not, that some day you may, if you will, return
the light service which I rendered you."

"You will not forget my name?" the preacher said--"Zachariah Stubbs, a
humble instrument of the Lord, and a preacher in the Independent chapel
at Oxford. Thither I cannot return, and am on my way to London, where I
have many friends, and where I doubt not a charge will be found for me.
I myself belong to the east countries, where the people are strong for
the Lord, and I doubt not that some of those I know will come to the
front of affairs, in which case my influence may perhaps be of more
service than you can suppose at present. Farewell, young sir, and
whatever be the issues of this struggle, I trust that you may safely
emerge from them."

The man lifted his broad black hat, and went on his way, and Harry rode
forward, smiling a little to himself at the promise given him.

The time passed slowly, and all kinds of rumors filled the land. At
length beacon fires were seen to blaze upon the hills, and, as it was
known that the Puritans had arranged with Essex that the news of a
victory was so to be conveyed to London, the hearts of the Royalists
sank, for they feared that disaster had befallen their cause. The next
day, however, horsemen of the Parliament galloping through the country
proclaimed that they had been defeated; but it was not till next day
that the true state of affairs became known. Then the news came that the
battle had indeed been a drawn one.

On the 26th of October Charles marched with his army into Oxford. So
complete was the ignorance of the inhabitants as to the movements of the
armies that at Abingdon the news of his coming was unknown, and Harry
was astonished on the morning of the 27th at hearing a great trampling
of horsemen. Looking out, he beheld his father at the head of the troop,
approaching the house. With a shout of joy the lad rushed downstairs and
met his father at the entrance.

"I did not look to be back so soon, Harry," Sir Henry said, as he
alighted from his horse. "We arrived at Oxford last night, and I am sent
on with my troop to see that no Parliament bands are lurking in the
neighborhood."

Before entering the house the colonel dismissed his troop, telling them
that until the afternoon they could return to their homes, but must then
re-assemble and hold themselves in readiness to advance, should he
receive further orders. Then, accompanied by his officers, he entered
the house. Breakfast was speedily prepared, and when this was done
justice to Sir Henry proceeded to relate to Harry, who was burning with
impatience to hear his news, the story of the battle of Edgehill.

"We reached Shrewsbury, as I wrote you," he said, "and stayed there
twenty days, and during that time the army swelled and many nobles and
gentlemen joined us. We were, however, it must be owned, but a motley
throng. The foot soldiers, indeed, were mostly armed with muskets; but
many had only sticks and cudgels. On the 12th we moved to Wolverhampton,
and so on through Birmingham and Kenilworth. We saw nothing of the
rebels till we met at Edgecot, a little hamlet near Banbury, where we
took post on a hill, the rebels being opposite to us. It must be owned,"
Sir Henry went on, "that things here did not promise well. There were
dissensions between Prince Rupert, who commanded the cavalry, and Lord
Lindsey, the general in chief, who is able and of great courage, but
hot-headed and fiery. In the morning it was determined to engage, as
Essex's forces had not all come up, and the king's troops were at least
as numerous as those of the enemy. We saw little of the fighting, for at
the commencement of the battle we got word to charge upon the enemy's
left. We made but short work of them, and drove them headlong from the
field, chasing them in great disorder for three miles, and taking much
plunder in Kineton among the Parliament baggage-wagons. Thinking that
the fight was over, we then prepared to ride back. When we came to the
field we found that all was changed. The main body of the Roundheads had
pressed hotly upon ours and had driven them back. Lord Lindsey himself,
who had gone into the battle at the head of the pikemen carrying a pike
himself like a common soldier, had been mortally wounded and taken
prisoner, and grievous slaughter had been inflicted. The king's standard
itself had been taken, but this had been happily recovered, for two
Royalist officers, putting on orange scarfs, rode into the middle of the
Roundheads, and pretending that they were sent by Essex, demanded the
flag from his secretary, to whom it had been intrusted. The scrivener
gave it up, and the officers, seizing it, rode through the enemy and
recovered their ranks. There was much confusion and no little angry
discussion in the camp that night, the footmen accusing the horsemen of
having deserted them, and the horsemen grumbling at the foot, because
they had not done their work as well as themselves. In the morning the
two armies still faced each other, neither being willing to budge a
foot, although neither cared to renew the battle. The rest of the
Parliamentary forces had arrived, and they might have struck us a heavy
blow had they been minded, for there was much discouragement in our
ranks. Lord Essex, however, after waiting a day and burying his dead,
drew off from the field, and we, remaining there, were able to claim the
victory, which, however, my son, was one of a kind which was scarce
worth winning. It was a sad sight to see so many men stretched stark and
dead, and these killed, not in fighting with a foreign foe, but with
other Englishmen. It made us all mightily sad, and if at that moment
Lord Essex had had full power from the Parliament to treat, methinks
that the quarrel could have been settled, all being mightily sick of
such kind of fighting."

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23