Chapter XIX. Of a Brawl in the Night
Decimus Saxon refused to avail himself of Master Timewell's house andtable for the reason, as I afterwards learned, that, the Mayor being afirm Presbyterian, he thought it might stand him in ill stead with theIndependents and other zealots were he to allow too great an intimacyto spring up between them. Indeed, my dears, from this time onward thiscunning man framed his whole life and actions in such a way as to makefriends of the sectaries, and to cause them to look upon him as theirleader. For he had a firm belief that in all such outbreaks as that inwhich we were engaged, the most extreme party is sure in the end to gainthe upper hand. 'Fanatics,' he said to me one day, 'mean fervour, andfervour means hard work, and hard work means power.' That was the centrepoint of all his plotting and scheming.
And first of all he set himself to show how excellent a soldier he was,and he spared neither time nor work to make this apparent. From morntill midday, and from afternoon till night, we drilled and drilled untilin very truth the shouting of the orders and the clatter of the armsbecame wearisome to our ears. The good burghers may well havethought that Colonel Saxon's Wiltshire foot were as much part of themarket-place as the town cross or the parish stocks. There was much tobe done in very little time, so much that many would have thought ithopeless to attempt it. Not only was there the general muster of theregiment, but we had each to practise our own companies in their severaldrills, and to learn as best we could the names and the wants of themen. Yet our work was made easier to us by the assurance that it was notthrown away, for at every gathering our bumpkins stood more erect,and handled their weapons more deftly. From cock-crow to sun-down thestreets resounded with 'Poise your muskets! Order your muskets! Restyour muskets! Handle your primers!' and all the other orders of the oldmanual exercise.
As we became more soldierly we increased in numbers, for our smartappearance drew the pick of the new-comers into our ranks. My owncompany swelled until it had to be divided, and others enlarged inproportion. The baronet's musqueteers mustered a full hundred, skilledfor the most part in the use of the gun. Altogether we sprang fromthree hundred to four hundred and fifty, and our drill improved until wereceived praise from all sides on the state of our men.
Late in the evening I was riding slowly back to the house of MasterTimewell when Reuben clattered after me, and besought me to turn backwith him to see a noteworthy sight. Though feeling little in the moodfor such things, I turned Covenant and rode with him down the length ofHigh Street, and into the suburb which is known as Shuttern, where mycompanion pulled up at a bare barn-like building, and bade me look inthrough the window.
The interior, which consisted of a single great hall, the emptywarehouse in which wool had used to be stored, was all alight with lampsand candles. A great throng of men, whom I recognised as belonging tomy own company, or that of my companion, lay about on either side, somesmoking, some praying, and some burnishing their arms. Down the middle aline of benches had been drawn up, on which there were seated astraddlethe whole hundred of the baronet's musqueteers, each engaged in plaitinginto a queue the hair of the man who sat in front of him. A boy walkedup and down with a pot of grease, by the aid of which with some whipcordthe work was going forward merrily. Sir Gervas himself with a greatflour dredger sat perched upon a bale of wool at the head of the line,and as quickly as any queue was finished he examined it through hisquizzing glass, and if it found favour in his eyes, daintily powdered itfrom his dredger, with as much care and reverence as though it were someservice of the Church. No cook seasoning a dish could have addedhis spices with more nicety of judgment than our friend displayed inwhitening the pates of his company. Glancing up from his labours he sawour two smiling faces looking in at him through the window, but his workwas too engrossing to allow him to leave it, and we rode off at lastwithout having speech with him.
By this time the town was very quiet and still, for the folk in thoseparts were early bed-goers, save when some special occasion kept themafoot. We rode slowly together through the silent streets, our horses'hoofs ringing out sharp against the cobble stones, talking about suchlight matters as engage the mind of youth. The moon was shining verybrightly above us, silvering the broad streets, and casting a fretworkof shadows from the peaks and pinnacles of the churches. At MasterTimewell's courtyard I sprang from my saddle, but Reuben, attracted bythe peace and beauty of the scene, rode onwards with the intention ofgoing as far as the town gate.
I was still at work upon my girth buckles, undoing my harness, when ofa sudden there came from the street a shouting and a rushing, with theclinking of blades, and my comrade's voice calling upon me for help.Drawing my sword I ran out. Some little way down there was a clearspace, white with the moonshine, in the centre of which I caught aglimpse of the sturdy figure of my friend springing about with anactivity for which I had never given him credit, and exchanging swordthrusts with three or four men who were pressing him closely. On theground there lay a dark figure, and behind the struggling group Reuben'smare reared and plunged in sympathy with her master's peril. As I rusheddown, shouting and waving my sword, the assailants took flight downa side street, save one, a tall sinewy swordsman, who rushed in uponReuben, stabbing furiously at him, and cursing him the while for aspoil-sport. To my horror I saw, as I ran, the fellow's blade slipinside my friend's guard, who threw up his arms and fell prostrate,while the other with a final thrust dashed off down one of the narrowwinding lanes which lead from East Street to the banks of the Tone.
'For Heaven's sake where are you hurt?' I cried, throwing myself upon myknees beside his prostrate body. 'Where is your injury, Reuben?'
'In the wind, mostly,' quoth he, blowing like a smithy bellows;'likewise on the back of my pate. Give me your hand, I pray.'
'And are you indeed scathless?' I cried, with a great lightening ofthe heart as I helped him to his feet. 'I thought that the villain hadstabbed you.'
'As well stab a Warsash crab with a bodkin,' said he. 'Thanks to goodSir Jacob Clancing, once of Snellaby Hall and now of Salisbury Plain,their rapiers did no more than scratch my plate of proof. But how is itwith the maid?'
'The maid?' said I.
'Aye, it was to save her that I drew. She was beset by these nightwalkers. See, she rises! They threw her down when I set upon them.'
'How is it with you, Mistress?' I asked; for the prostrate figurehad arisen and taken the form of a woman, young and graceful to allappearance, with her face muffled in a mantle. 'I trust that you havemet with no hurt.'
'None, sir,' she answered, in a low, sweet voice, 'but that I haveescaped is due to the ready valour of your friend, and the guidingwisdom of Him who confutes the plots of the wicked. Doubtless a true manwould have rendered this help to any damsel in distress, and yet it mayadd to your satisfaction to know that she whom you have served is nostranger to you.' With these words she dropped her mantle and turned herface towards us in the moonlight.
'Good lack! it is Mistress Timewell!' I cried, in amazement.
'Let us homewards,' she said, in firm, quick tones. 'The neighbours arealarmed, and there will be a rabble collected anon. Let us escape fromthe babblement.'
Windows had indeed begun to clatter up in every direction, and loudvoices to demand what was amiss. Far away down the street we couldsee the glint of lanthorns swinging to and fro as the watch hurriedthitherwards. We slipped along in the shadow, however, and foundourselves safe within the Mayor's courtyard without let or hindrance.
'I trust, sir, that you have really met with no hurt,' said the maidento my companion.
Reuben had said not a word since she had uncovered her face, and borethe face of a man who finds himself in some pleasant dream and is vexedonly by the fear lest he wake up from it. 'Nay, I am not hurt,' heanswered, 'but I would that you could tell us who these roving bladesmay be, and where they may be found.'
'Nay, nay,' said she, with uplifted finger, 'you shall not follow thematter further. As to the men, I cannot say with certainty who theymay have
been. I had gone forth to visit Dame Clatworthy, who hath thetertian ague, and they did beset me on my return. Perchance they aresome who are not of my grandfather's way of thinking in affairs ofState, and who struck at him through me. But ye have both been so kindthat ye will not refuse me one other favour which I shall ask ye?'
We protested that we could not, with our hands upon our sword-hilts.
'Nay, keep them for the Lord's quarrel,' said she, smiling at theaction. 'All that I ask is that ye will say nothing if this matter to mygrandsire. He is choleric, and a little matter doth set him in a flame,so old as he is. I would not have his mind turned from the public needsto a private trifle of this sort. Have I your promises?'
'Mine,' said I, bowing.
'And mine,' said Lockarby.
'Thanks, good friends. Alack! I have dropped my gauntlet in the street.But it is of no import. I thank God that no harm has come to any one. Mythanks once more, and may pleasant dreams await ye.' She sprang up thesteps and was gone in an instant.
Reuben and I unharnessed our horses and saw them cared for in silence.We then entered the house and ascended to our chambers, still without aword. Outside his room door my friend paused.
'I have heard that long man's voice before, Micah,' said he.
'And so have I,' I answered. 'The old man must beware of his 'prentices.I have half a mind to go back for the little maiden's gauntlet.'
A merry twinkle shot through the cloud which hid gathered on Reuben'sbrow. He opened his left hand and showed me the doe-skin glove crumpledup in his palm.
'I would not barter it for all the gold in her grandsire's coffers,'said he, with a sudden outflame, and then half-laughing, half-blushingat his own heat, he whisked in and left me to my thoughts.
And so I learned for the first time, my dears, that my good comrade hadbeen struck by the little god's arrows. When a man's years number onescore, love springs up in him, as the gourd grew in the Scriptures, in asingle night. I have told my story ill if I have not made you understandthat my friend was a frank, warm-hearted lad of impulse, whose reasonseldom stood sentry over his inclinations. Such a man can no more drawaway from a winning maid than the needle can shun the magnet. He lovesas the mavis sings or the kitten plays. Now, a slow-witted, heavy fellowlike myself, in whose veins the blood has always flowed somewhat coollyand temperately, may go into love as a horse goes into a shelvingstream, step by step, but a man like Reuben is kicking his heels uponthe bank one moment, and is over ears in the deepest pool the nest.
Heaven only knows what match it was that had set the tow alight. I canbut say that from that day on my comrade was sad and cloudy one hour,gay and blithesome the next. His even flow of good spirits had desertedhim, and he became as dismal as a moulting chicken, which has everseemed to me to be one of the strangest outcomes of what poets havecalled the joyous state of love. But, indeed, pain and pleasure are sovery nearly akin in this world, that it is as if they were tetheredin neighbouring stalls, and a kick would at any time bring down thepartition. Here is a man who is as full of sighs as a grenade is ofpowder, his face is sad, his brow is downcast, his wits are wandering;yet if you remark to him that it is an ill thing that he should bein this state, he will answer you, as like as not, that he would notexchange it for all the powers and principalities. Tears to him aregolden, and laughter is but base coin. Well, my dears, it is uselessfor me to expound to you that which I cannot myself understand. If, as Ihave heard, it is impossible to get the thumb-marks of any two men tobe alike, how can we expect their inmost thoughts and feelings to tally?Yet this I can say with all truth, that when I asked your grandmother'shand I did not demean myself as if I were chief mourner at a funeral.She will bear me out that I walked up to her with a smile upon my face,though mayhap there was a little flutter at my heart, and I took herhand and I said--but, lack-a-day, whither have I wandered? What has allthis to do with Taunton town and the rising of 1685?
On the night of Wednesday, June 17, we learned that the King, asMonmouth was called throughout the West, was lying less than ten milesoff with his forces, and that he would make his entry into the loyaltown of Taunton the next morning. Every effort was made, as ye may wellguess, to give him a welcome which should be worthy of the most Whiggishand Protestant town in England. An arch of evergreens had alreadybeen built up at the western gate, bearing the motto, 'Welcome to KingMonmouth!' and another spanned the entrance to the market-place from theupper window of the White Hart Inn, with 'Hail to the Protestant Chief!'in great scarlet letters. A third, if I remember right, bridged theentrance to the Castle yard, but the motto on it has escaped me. Thecloth and wool industry is, as I have told you, the staple trade ofthe town, and the merchants had no mercy on their wares, but used themfreely to beautify the streets. Rich tapestries, glossy velvets, andcostly brocades fluttered from the windows or lined the balconies. EastStreet, High Street, and Fore Street were draped from garret to basementwith rare and beautiful fabrics, while gay flags hung from the roofson either side, or fluttered in long festoons from house to house.The royal banner of England floated from the lofty tower of St. MaryMagdalene, while the blue ensign of Monmouth waved from the sisterturret of St. James. Late into the night there was planing andhammering, working and devising, until when the sun rose upon Thursday,June 18, it shone on as brave a show of bunting and evergreen as evergraced a town. Taunton had changed as by magic from a city into a flowergarden.
Master Stephen Timewell had busied himself in these preparations, but hehad borne in mind at the same time that the most welcome sight whichhe could present to Monmouth's eyes was the large body of armed men whowere prepared to follow his fortunes. There were sixteen hundred in thetown, two hundred of which were horse, mostly well armed and equipped.These were disposed in such a way that the King should pass them in hisprogress. The townsmen lined the market-place three deep from theCastle gate to the entrance to the High Street; from thence to Shuttern,Dorsetshire, and Frome peasants were drawn up on either side of thestreet; while our own regiment was stationed at the western gate. Witharms well burnished, serried ranks, and fresh sprigs of green in everybonnet, no leader could desire a better addition to his army. Whenall were in their places, and the burghers and their wives had arrayedthemselves in their holiday gear, with gladsome faces and baskets ofnew-cut flowers, all was ready for the royal visitor's reception.
'My orders are,' said Saxon, riding up to us as we sat our horses resideour companions, 'that I and my captains should fall in with the King'sescort as he passes, and so accompany him to the market-place. Your menshall present arms, and shall then stand their ground until we return.'
We all three drew our swords and saluted.
'If ye will come with me, gentlemen, and take position to the right ofthe gate here,' said he, 'I may be able to tell ye something of thesefolk as they pass. Thirty years of war in many climes should give me themaster craftsman's right to expound to his apprentices.'
We all very gladly followed his advice, and passed out through the gate,which was now nothing more than a broad gap amongst the mounds whichmarked the lines of the old walls. 'There is no sign of them yet,' Iremarked, as we pulled up upon a convenient hillock. 'I suppose thatthey must come by this road which winds through the valley before us.'
'There are two sorts of bad general,' quoth Saxon, 'the man who is toofast and the man who is too slow. His Majesty's advisers will never beaccused of the former failing, whatever other mistakes they may fallinto. There was old Marshal Grunberg, with whom I did twenty-six months'soldiering in Bohemia. He would fly through the country pell-mell,horse, foot, and artillery, as if the devil were at his heels. He mightmake fifty blunders, but the enemy had never time to take advantage. Icall to mind a raid which we made into Silesia, when, after two days orso of mountain roads, his Oberhauptmann of the staff told him that itwas impossible for the artillery to keep up. "Lass es hinter!" says he.So the guns were left, and by the evening of the next day the foot weredead-beat. "They cannot walk another mile!" says the
Oberhauptmann."Lassen Sie hinter!" says he. So on we went with the horse--I was in hisPandour regiment, worse luck! But after a skirmish or two, what with theroads and what with the enemy, our horses were foundered and useless."The horses are used up!" says the Oberhauptmann. "Lassen Sie hinter!"he cries; and I warrant that he would have pushed on to Prague with hisstaff, had they allowed him. "General Hinterlassen" we called him afterthat.'
'A dashing commander, too,' cried Sir Gervas. 'I would fain have servedunder him.'
'Aye, and he had a way of knocking his recruits into shape which wouldscarce be relished by our good friends here in the west country,' saidSaxon. 'I remember that after the leaguer of Salzburg, when we had takenthe castle or fortalice of that name, we were joined by some thousanduntrained foot, which had been raised in Dalmatia in the Emperor'semploy. As they approached our lines with waving of hands and blowing ofbugles, old Marshal Hinterlassen discharged a volley of all the cannonupon the walls at them, killing three score and striking great panicinto the others. "The rogues must get used to standing fire sooneror later," said he, "so they may as well commence their education atonce."'
'He was a rough schoolmaster,' I remarked. 'He might have left that partof the drill to the enemy.'
'Yet his soldiers loved him,' said Saxon. 'He was not a man, when a cityhad been forced, to inquire into every squawk of a woman, or give ear toevery burgess who chanced to find his strong-box a trifle the lighter.But as to the slow commanders, I have known none to equal BrigadierBaumgarten, also of the Imperial service. He would break up hiswinter-quarters and sit down before some place of strength, where hewould raise a sconce here, and sink a sap there, until his soldiers weresick of the very sight of the place. So he would play with it, as a catwith a mouse, until at last it was about to open its gates, when,as like as not, he would raise the leaguer and march back into hiswinter-quarters. I served two campaigns under him without honour, sack,plunder, or emolument, save a beggarly stipend of three gulden a day,paid in clipped money, six months in arrear. But mark ye the folk uponyonder tower! They are waving their kerchiefs as though something werevisible to them.'
'I can see nothing,' I answered, shading my eyes and gazing down thetree-sprinkled valley which rose slowly in green uplands to the grassyBlackdown hills.
'Those on the housetops are waving and pointing,' said Reuben. 'MethinksI can myself see the flash of steel among yonder woods.'
'There it is,' cried Saxon, extending his gauntleted hand, 'on thewestern bank of the Tone, hard by the wooden bridge. Follow my finger,Clarke, and see if you cannot distinguish it.'
'Yes, truly,' I exclaimed, 'I see a bright shimmer coming and going. Andthere to the left, where the road curves over the hill, mark you thatdense mass of men! Ha! the head of the column begins to emerge from thetrees.'
There was not a cloud in the sky, but the great heat had caused a hazeto overlie the valley, gathering thickly along the winding course ofthe river, and hanging in little sprays and feathers over the woodlandswhich clothe its banks. Through this filmy vapour there broke from timeto time fierce sparkles of brilliant light as the sun's rays fell uponbreastplate or headpiece. Now and again the gentle summer breezewafted up sudden pulses of martial music to our ears, with the blare oftrumpets and the long deep snarl of the drums. As we gazed, the van ofthe army began to roll out from the cover of the trees and to darken thewhite dusty roads. The long line slowly extended itself, writhing out ofthe forest land like a dark snake with sparkling scales, until the wholerebel army--horse, foot, and ordnance--were visible beneath us. Thegleam of the weapons, the waving of numerous banners, the plumes of theleaders, and the deep columns of marching men, made up a picture whichstirred the very hearts of the citizens, who, from the housetops andfrom the ruinous summit of the dismantled walls, were enabled to gazedown upon the champions of their faith. If the mere sight of a passingregiment will cause a thrill in your bosoms, you can fancy how it iswhen the soldiers upon whom you look are in actual arms for your owndearest and most cherished interests, and have just come out victoriousfrom a bloody struggle. If every other man's hand was against us, theseat least were on our side, and our hearts went out to them as to friendsand brothers. Of all the ties that unite men in this world, that of acommon danger is the strongest.
It all appeared to be most warlike and most imposing to my inexperiencedeyes, and I thought as I looked at the long array that our cause was asgood as won. To my surprise, however, Saxon pished and pshawed under hisbreath, until at last, unable to contain his impatience, he broke out inhot discontent.
'Do but look at that vanguard as they breast the slope,' he cried.'Where is the advance party, or Vorreiter, as the Germans call them?Where, too, is the space which should be left between the fore-guard andthe main battle? By the sword of Scanderbeg, they remind me more of adrove of pilgrims, as I have seen them approaching the shrine of St.Sebaldus of Nurnberg with their banners and streamers. There inthe centre, amid that cavalcade of cavaliers, rides our new monarchdoubtless. Pity he hath not a man by him who can put this swarm ofpeasants into something like campaign order. Now do but look at thosefour pieces of ordnance trailing along like lame sheep behind the flock.Caracco, I would that I were a young King's officer with a troop oflight horse on the ridge yonder! My faith, how I should sweep down yoncross road like a kestrel on a brood of young plover! Then heh for cutand thrust, down with the skulking cannoniers, a carbine fire to coverus, round with the horses, and away go the rebel guns in a cloud ofdust! How's that, Sir Gervas?'
'Good sport, Colonel,' said the baronet, with a touch of colour in hiswhite cheeks. 'I warrant that you did keep your Pandours on the trot.'
'Aye, the rogues had to work or hang--one or t'other. But methinks ourfriends here are scarce as numerous as reported. I reckon them to be athousand horse, and mayhap five thousand two hundred foot. I have beenthought a good tally-man on such occasions. With fifteen hundred in thetown that would bring us to close on eight thousand men, which is nogreat force to invade a kingdom and dispute a crown.'
'If the West can give eight thousand, how many can all the counties ofEngland afford?' I asked. 'Is not that the fairer way to look at it?'
'Monmouth's popularity lies mostly in the West,' Saxon answered. 'Itwas the memory of that which prompted him to raise his standard in thesecounties.'
'His standards, rather,' quoth Reuben. 'Why, it looks as though they hadhung their linen up to dry all down the line.'
'True! They have more ensigns than ever I saw with so small a force,'Saxon answered, rising in his stirrups. 'One or two are blue, and therest, as far as I can see for the sun shining upon them, are white, withsome motto or device.'
Whilst we had been conversing, the body of horse which formed thevanguard of the Protestant army had approached within a quarter of amile or less of the town, when a loud, clear bugle-call brought them toa halt. In each successive regiment or squadron the signal was repeated,so that the sound passed swiftly down the long array until it died awayin the distance. As the coil of men formed up upon the white road, withjust a tremulous shifting motion along the curved and undulating line,its likeness to a giant serpent occurred again to my mind.
'I could fancy it a great boa,' I remarked, 'which was drawing its coilsround the town.'
'A rattlesnake, rather,' said Reuben, pointing to the guns in the rear.'It keeps all its noise in its tail.'
'Here comes its head, if I mistake not,' quoth Saxon. 'It were bestperhaps that we stand at the side of the gate.'
As he spoke a group of gaily dressed cavaliers broke away from the mainbody and rode straight for the town. Their leader was a tall, slim,elegant young man, who sat his horse with the grace of a skilled rider,and who was remarkable amongst those around him for the gallantry of hisbearing and the richness of his trappings. As he galloped towards thegate a roar of welcome burst from the assembled multitude, which wastaken up and prolonged by the crowds behind, who, though unable to seewhat was going forward, gathered from the shouting th
at the King wasapproaching.