A = A = en n ^ s c- M == JD m DD 3 s ^^ o 6 m , ( — 9 ^ 3 H 3> 2 = S 7 = ^= 1 — <' *:lJ**jS / m^ ■-^Bk' ^ ^-.i*^ -.-.•^j)^ r CI ^^< /i ^:^i C'aef .7 THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES / ^ GIFT OF FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD /d ►> // m '••^Mt^'^ai ^i^'^lfc^ ^^-> ._! BOSCOBEL ou THE ROYAL OAK. A TALE OF THE YEAR 1G51. BT WILLIAM HAEEISON AINSWORTn. AUTHOE OF "the TOWER OF LONDON," Ac. 3 n.X.TJ'STR-.A.TEID. In that fair part where the rich Salop pains An anu'Ie view o'erall the Western plains. A grove appears whit-h Boscobel thev name, Ni 't known to maps ; a prove of scanty fame. And yet henceforth no celebrated shade Of all the British groves shall be more glorious made. Cowley's tiylva. Uook'vL LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, Limited Broadway, Ludgatk Hill p/? INSCRIBED TO THE MEMOEY OP MY OLD FEIEND, JOHN HUGHES, Esq., ov DONNINGTON HOUSE, BERKS, EDIXOS OF SON OP MRS. HUGHES, OF KINGSTON" LISLE, PATHEE OP THOMAS HUGHES, M.P. G849G5 PREFACE. In his letter to Mr. Hughes, the then Bishop of Llandaff describes King Charles the Second's Wanderings after the Battle of Worcester '' as being by far the most romantic piece of English history we possess." I have always entertained the same opinion, and after reading the "Boscobel Tracts," so admirably edited by Mr. Hughes, I resolved to write a story on the subject, which should compre- hend the principal incidents described in the various narratives of the King's adventures ; but not having at that time visited any of the hiding-places, I deferred my design, and possibly might never have executed it, had I not seen a series of Views depict- ing most graphically the actual state of the different places visited by Charles, and privately published by Mr. Frederick Maiming, of Leamington. Stimulated by these remarkable sketches, 1 at once com- menced my long- delayed Tale. An enthusiast on the subject, Mr. Manning has collected all the numerous editions of the " Boscobel Tracts," and has printed a list of them, which is exceedingly curious. The collection is probably unique. His nephew, INir. John E. Anderdon, whose death occurred while this work was in the press, was also an enthusiastic collector of all matters relating to Boscobel and the King's escapes, and from both these gentlemen I have derived much valuable assistance*. I am under equal obligations to my excellent friend, Mr. Parke, of the Deanery, Wolverhampton, who has furnished me I with many curious tracts, prints, plans, and privately printed books relating to Boscobel, Brewood, and Chillington. I shall always retain a most agreeable recollection of a visit paid to Chillington in company with Mr. Parke and the Hon. Charles * Several of the Illustrations accompanying tlie Tale are engraved by Mr. -^ J. H. llimbault from Mr. Manning's Series of Views of the Places visited by - Charles during iiis wanderings. The views of Old Powick Bridge, of the Site ^' of Fort Eoyal, and the Room in. the Commandery, were sketched on the spot f3 by Captain J. H. L. Archer. VI PKEFACE. Wrottesley^ and of our heaxtj reception by the hospitable Squire. Among the various works relating to Boscobel that have come under my notice is a charming little volume written by the Rev. George Dodd, Curate of Doddington, Salop, the village where Boscobel is situated, who has ascertained all the facts connected with the story. Boscobel House, I rejoice to say, is in very good preservation, and I sincerely hope it may not be altered, or improved, as is the case with Trent — a most interesting old house. Moseley Hall is still extant ; but, alas ! Bentley House and Abbots Leigh are gone. Finer figures do not appear in history than those of the devoted Jane Lane and the stalwart and loyal Penderel Brothers. " The simple rustic who serves his sovereign in time of need to the utmost extent of his ability, is as deserving of commendation as the victorious leader of thousands." So said King Charles the Second to Richard Penderel after the Restoration. It is pleasant to think that several descendants of the loyal family of Penderels are still in existence. "With some of them I have been in corre- spondence.* Good fortune seems to have attended those who aided the fugitive monarch. Many representatives of the old families who assisted him in his misfortunes are to be found — Mr. John Newton Lane, of King's Bromley Hall, near Lichfield, a lineal descendant of the Lanes ; Mr. Tombs, of Long Marston ; Mr. Whitgreave, of Moseley ; the Giffards, of Chillington ; and the ennobled family of W"vaidham. In describing the King's flight from "Worcester to White Ladies on the night of the fatal 3rd of September, I have followed exactly the careful topographical description furnished by the Rev. Edward Bradley, Rector of Stretton, Oakham, to Notes and Queries, June 13th, 1868. Mr. Bradley has been the £rst to trace out the King's route, and to him all credit is due.f * Mrs. Jane Llewelyn, eldest daughter of Richard Penderel, of Pentwrch Tstradgvnlais, great, great-grandson of John Penderel of Boscobel, died 19ik ■of June, 1872, aged eighty, and was interred in the churchyard of Llaugyuwyd, ■Glamorganshire. f Since the publication of the first edition of the work, Mr. Manning has pointed out an error which shall be rectified in his own words. The mistake is, perhaps, not important in a work of fiction, but it is desirable that the precise route taken by the royal fugitive should be ascertained, and Mr. Manning's description is very interesting as well as accurate. " You have kept strictly to the line of route pursued by the King and Jane Lane from Bentley House, except as regards their arrival at Stratford-on-Avon. They must have come across country until they touched the high road from Bir- mingham. When within a mile of Stratford they retraced their course, and, according to Mr. Wise's account, turned to the village of Wootton Wawen, seeking the higher ground, and getting to Stratford by a lane, now called the PKEFACE. VU " I know of no part of our annals," remarks Mr. Iln^lies, *' which continues to be so faniihar a subject of conversation amonir the commonalty as that connected with ' Kin CAPTURED A Fort, WHICH HE NAMED " Fort Royal " t CHAPTER IT. Showing how the Mayor of AVorcester and the Sheriff were TAKEN TO Upton-on- Severn, and how they got back again . . ft" CHAPTER III. How Charles made his Triumphal Entry into Worcester ; and how he was proclaimed by the Mayor and Shefjff of that Loyal City IS CHAPTER IV. How Charles was lodged in the Episcopal Palace ; and how Doctor CiiosBY preached before his Majesty in the Cathedral . 21 CHAPTER V. How Charles rode to IVIadresfield Court ; and how Mistress Jane Lane and her Brother, with Sir Clement Fisher, were presemed to his IkLvjEsn' 24- CHAPTER VI. How Charles ascended the Worcestershire Beacon; and oi the Ambuscade prepared for him as he came down . . .23' X CONTENTS. CHAPTER VII. PAGB How COLOKEL LeGGE BROUGHT IMPORTANT NeWS TO THE KlXO, AKD HOW HIS Majesty paid a Visit to Severn End 32 CHAPTER VIII. Of the Counsel given by Colonel Lesley to the Kino . . ,38 CHAPTER IX. Of the GP.AND Muster at Pitchcroft ed in decoratin<2: the habitations. The balconies were hung with tapestry, gaily-coloured cloths and carpets, and the crosses were adorned with flowers. The royal standard floated over the Sidbury-gate, as well as on the summit of Fort Royal, and flags were flying from all the steeples 16 BOSCOBEL ; OR, Such extraordinary zeal and activity were displayed, that, long before the appointed hour, all the preparations were completed, and the good folks began to be impatient for the coming of their sovereign. The entire host was now gathered on the hill-side, and presented a magnificent spectacle, as viewed from the city walls, wliich were densely thronged. The Sidbury-gate was thrown wide open, a .guard of halberdiers being drawn up on either side of the en- trance ; while the mayor, the sheriff, and the aldermen, in their full robes of office, were stationed beneath the archway. At length the sound of" martial music was heard, and a squadron of ide. Troops were now pouring into the city, and were marching in different directions; some regiinents being taken by their officers to the Castle Hill, others to the cathedral close, and others to the quays — at all of which places good eatables and drinkables, and in the greatest abundance, were provided for them. On that day, in all parts of the city, thousands of hungry soldiers were feasted — every house being open to them. And to the credit of the Scots it must be stated, that they in no wise abused the hospi- tality shown them. While his majesty was signing the warrants in the Guildhall, a halt took place in the High-street, and when thus seen from above, the various regiments of horse and foot, with their flags and banners, now forming an almost solid mass, presented a splendid spectacle. A good deal of animated conversation between the officers and the damsels in the balconies took place during this interval, and some amusing incidents occurred, one of which must be related. Among the spectators collected nearly opposite the Guildhall were an elderly dame and an exceedingly pretty damsel — the old woman's grand-daughter, as it turned out. They evidently be- THE ROYAL OAK. 19 longed to the middle classes. With them was a sallow, ill-favoured personage, whose closely-cropped black hair, steeple-crowned hat, plain Geneva band, and black cloak, proclaimed him a Puritan. It was certain that he was passionately enamoured of the damsel, whom he addressed by the name of Mary, for he watched her every look with jealous eyes; but it was by no means equally certain that she returned his passion. Rather the contrary, we should say. Urso Gives, for so was pretty Mary's suitor named, was more than double her age, and far from well-favoui'ed, but he was tolerably rich, and this was enough for Dame Rushout, Mary's grandmother. Urso Gives was a tailor, and had prospered in his business. For a knight of the thimble, he was not devoid of mettle, and somewhat quarrelsome and vindictive. He was decidedly a Re- publican, and in religion an Independent. As may be imagined, this was a bitter day for him, and he would not have come forth upon it had it not been to watch over pretty Mary Rushout, who was determined to see the young king. So he was compelled to place Mary and her grand-dame in a good position opposite the Guild- hall, and there they had an excellent view of the young monarch, and saw him dismount. Mary Rushout was enchanted. Never had she beheld any one so graceful, so majestic as the king. How royally he bestrode his steed ! How beauteous were his long black locks ! — Urso must let his own hair grow long. And then how his majesty's dia- monds sparkled ! She could not help calling out " Long live the king 1" Charles noticed her, and told her, with a smile, " She was the prettiest girl he had seen that day, and deserved a better lover." Was not this enough to turn her head? Was it not enough to madden the irritable and jealous Urso? The by- standers, who were staunch Royalists, laughed at him, and this exasperated Urso beyond all endurance. He broke out against the king, called him the chief of the malignants, and the favourer of heresy and profaneness, and would have gone on in the same strain if he had not been soundly buffeted on all sides. Mary Rushout and her grand-dame screamed, and their cries attracted the attention of an aide-de-camp, who was waiting his majesty's return. It was Major Careless. Seeing a pretty girl in dis- tress he pushed forwai'd his steed, and quickly extricated her and the old dame, while Urso took advantage of his interferenec to escape. A Cavalier so gallant as Careless we may be sure did not retire after such an introduction, and he found Mary Rushout very willing to flirt with him. He soon learned all about her and about Urso Gives, and that they both dwelt in the Trinity, and continued chatting with her till Charles came forth from the Guildhall. The royal cortege was once more put in motion, and proceeded c2 20 BOSCOBEL ; OR, to the large open place near the Foregate, in tlic midst of which stood the antique sculptured cross previously mentioned. The place was now tilled with people, but the assemblage was no farther disturbed than was necessary to allow the troops to form a square round it. The mayor and the sheriff having made their way to the cross, trumpets were sounded, and, amid the silence that ensued, the mayor, in a sonorous voice, proclaimed Charles King of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland. Tremendous acclamations followed, and guns were fired from the top of the Foregate. Even then the assemblage did not move, nor did the troops quit their position. Trumpets being again sounded, a Manifesto was published in the king's name, declaring a general pardon to all the inhabitants of the city as should henceforward conform to his authority; and also announcing that warrants had just received the royal sign- manual in the Guildhall, whereby his majesty summoned, upon their allegiance, all the nobility, gentry, and others, of what degree and condition soever, of the county of Worcester, from sixteen to fixty, to appear in their persons, and with any horses, arms, and ammunition they had or could procure, at Pitchcroft, near the city, on Tuesday next, being the 26th of August, 1651, " where," pur- sued the king, " ourself will be present to dispose of such of them as we shall think fit for our service in the war, in defence of this City and County, and to add to our marching army." On the king's return to the city, the mayor ceremoniously con- ducted him to his private residence, where a grand collation had been prepared, of which his majesty and his suite partook. THIi UOYAL OAK. 21 CHAPTER IV. ■HOW CTTAKIES WAS LODGED IN THE EPISCOPAL PALACE J AND HOW DOCTOR CROSBY PEEACHED BEFOKE HIS MAJESTY IN THE CATHEDRAL. The ancient episcopal palace — which had been prepared, aa ivell as circumstances would permit, for tlie reception of the ki'ig and his suite — was a large and stately pile, and, from its size, grandeur, and the number of apartments it contained, was well fitted to be the temporary residence of a monarch — even had that monarch been firmly settled on the throne — and, indeed, it was again occupied by royalty at a later date, when George III. and his queen visited Worcester in 1788. By far the most im- portant mansion in the city, it occupied a commanding position on tlie left bank of the river, and from its fine bay windows presented a very iinposing facade. Tlie roof was lined with bat- tlements, towers, and belfries, and on the highest of these towers the roj'al standard now floated, wliile sentries were stationed at the river gate, and at the upper gateway. The palace was sur- rounded by higl) embattled walls, within which was a garden laid out in the old formal style, and boasting a broad terrace. The garden had been utterly neglected by the Roundheads, and the terrace was covered with grass. Internally, the mansion, which was erected probublv about the beginning of the sixteenth cen- tury, contained a noble hall, with a richly carved screen, an exqui- site chapel, a carved oak staircase of great beauty, conducting to a iong gallery, the deeply embayed windows of which, while they embellished the exterior, commanded fine views of the country, and the broad intermediate tract once known as Malvern Chase, but now a most fertile district, through which, as Dyer sings, the wide Majestic wave of Severn slowly rolls. Considerable damage had been done to the gallery and the roonas opening from it by the Roundheads, who had torn down the fine old tapestry once adorning the oak panels, and injured the carvings. Most of the old furniture, being of oak, had withstood a great deal of barbarous usage, and an immense ponderous bedstead, in which many a bishop had reposed, was prepared for his majesty. A good many other beds had to be provided for the king's suite, and for his large retinue of servants, but this was satisfactorily accomplished, and luckily there were rooms enough to accom- modate all. Fortunately, also, the mansion possessed a vast kitchen, having no fewer than three large grates, whence hos- pitality iiad been dispensed by the worthy prelates in the oldea 22 BOSCOBEL ; OR, time. At these three grates cooks had been at work, roasting and boiling, throughout the day. The first persons presented to the king on his arrival at the palace were Lord Talbot, Sir John Pakington, and Colonel Mervin Touchet, who had been kept prisoners by the commandant of the garrison. Lord Talbot and Sir John said they had only waited to see his majesty, and were about to depart instantly to raise recruits for his service, but Charles would have them stay and dine with him. Another person whom the king was delighted to see was Doctor Crosby, the loyal divine, who had suffered im- prisonment for his zeal in his majesty's behalf. Dinner was served in the great hall, and what it wanted in ceremoniousness was more than compensated for by abundance^ of viands and excellence of wine. Not much form was observed. The mayor occupied a seat on his majesty's right, and the sheriti on the left. Grace was said by Doctor Crosby, We shall not particularise the dishes, but we must mention that a Severn salmon; of prodigious weight — quite a regal fish, that had allowed itself obligingly to be captured for the occasion — was set before the king. Moreover, the stewed lampreys were an entirely new deli- cacy to his majesty, and pleased him greatly. Charles was in high spirits, and laughed and jested in the most good-humoured manner with those near him. Of a very sanguine temperament, he had never doubted the success of his expedition, and the events — unimportant as they were — that had occurred since his arrival before Worcester heightened his confidence. For the first time he had been victorious, and had been warmly welcomed by his subjects. He had been assured that a great number of recruits could be raised in the county before the general Muster took place at Pitchcroft, and he felt certain Lord Derby would bring him large levies from Lancashire and Cheshire. He would then give battle to Cromwell, defeat him, and march on triumphantly to London. His confidence seemed to be shared by all the nobles and general officers present — even by the cold and cautious Lesley. While quaffing their claret and burgundy^ they predicted the utter defeat of old Noll and the destruction of all rebels. Next day, being Sunday, was comparatively calm after the great previous excitement. Not that the city liad by any means resumed its ordinary aspect — that was clearly impossible with a large army encamped outside the walls, and many regiments quar- tered within them — but the Scottish soldiers, being strict observers of the Sabbath, conducted themselves in a very orderly and decorous manner. Much preaching was there in the camps at Red Hill and Pitchcroft, and officers might be heard reading the Bible and holding forth upon sacred texts to their men, who listened with the profoundest attention. i THE ROYAL OAK. 23 All the churches — and Worcester, as we know, abounded in churches — were filled with congregations in which the niiiitary element predominated; but the cathedral — as might be expected, since it was known that the king would attend divine service there — collected within it all the principal personages of the city, all the chief officers of the army, and as many regiments as the vast pile could contain. Never, perhaps, before or since, has the interior of this grand old edifice presented such a striking sight as it did on this memorable occasion. Its marble monuments and efligies, its chantry and lady-chapel, had been mutilated, as we have already told, by the Roundheads, but these injuries were now concealed from view by the throng collected within the aisles of the choir and the retro-choir. Owino: likewise to the attention bein<): directed to other objects, the loss of the splendid painted glass in the windows was scarcely noticed. The majestic pillars lining the broad nave rose up amid a mass of troops that not only occupied the body of the fane, but the aisles. Seen from the entrance of the choir, paved with steel caps, and bristling with pikes, muskets, and carabines - — for the men all carried their arms — the nave presented an extra- ordinary coup-d'oeil. Stationed within the south transept, Pits- cottie's Highlanders contributed materially to the effect of the picture. All the nobles in attendance upon the king, with the general officers, occupied the stalls in the choir — Charles being; seated in the bishop's throne. As this was the first time on which the service of the Church of England had been performed Avithin the cathedral since its dese- cration by the Parliamentarians, it may be conceived with what satisfaction the members of that reliafion were enabled to resume their own form of worship within it — and this satisfaction was heightened by the circumstances under which they came back. The organ was gone, but the military music substituted seemed not inappropriate to an occasion when hymns of triumph were sung. Certes, the drums, trumpets, and other martial instruments^ resounding from the roof, produced an extraordinary effect. The sermon was preached by Doctor Crosby, and was a most eloquent and fervid discourse. The pale countenance of the vene- rable dean flushed, and his eyes blazed as with fire, while he de- nounced the murderers of the martyr king, and declared that the vengeance so long delayed would speedily fall upon them. Re- bellion, which had stalked unchecked through the land, would be crushed, and the monarchy restored. To Charles he attributed the highest spiritual authority, and spoke of him as " in all causes, and over all persons, next under God, supreme head and governor" — expressions at which his Presbyterian hearers took great offence. The earnestness, however, of his manner could not fail to impress them with a conviction of his sincerity. A council of war was subsequently held within the palace, 24 BOSCOBEL ; OR, . and it was decided that the fortifications should at once be thoroughly repaired, so as to enable the city to stand a siege, it necessary, though no tidings had yet been heard of Cromwell. After an early repast, Charles rode forth with his retinue into the city, and was surprised to find the High-street so empty, and almost all the houses shut up ; but his surprise ceased when he reached the camp at Pitchcroft, and found that ilie vast plain was covered with people, and resembled a fair. Tiie Scottish soldiers were quiet, and took no part in the profane recreations of the disso- lute Cavaliers, who were everywhere swaggering about, and making love to all the pretty damsels. Charles was enthusiastically received, but he did not stay long on Pitchcroft. After riding through the principal line of tents, he returned and crossed the river to St. John's, where Dalyell's brigade was placed to protect the approach to the bridge. Lower down, on the meadows on tliis side of the river, Pitscottie's Highlanders were encamped, and the king passed them on his way to Powick, which h6 desired to see. From the Highlanders' camp, which was almost opposite the episcopal palace and the cathedral, the finest view of old Worcester could be obtained, and he paused for some minutes, enraptured by the charming picture. A deliirhtful ride of a mile, or somewhat more, alonjj this bank of the Severn brought the kinf; and his attendants to the Teme at its point of junction with the larger river, and then following its deeply-ploughed channel, and watching its swift-flowing current through the fringing trees, they rode on to Powick. Near Powick there was a woody island of some little extent, round which rushed the river — here, as elsewhere, too deep to be forded. The island was gained by a bridge from either bank, and ■the importance of the point was so obvious, that the king deter- mined to place a battery upon it. CHAPTER V. HO^W CHARLES RODE TO MADKESFIKLD COURT; AND HOW MISTRESS JANE lANE AND HER BROTHER, WITH SIR CLEMENT FISHER, WERE PRESENTED TO HIS MAJESTY. Next morning another council of war was held at the palace. No tidings as yet of Cromwell — no despatches from the Earl of Derby. After an hour's deliberation the council broke up, and the king proceeded to the Castle Hill, which was being fortified under the superintendence of Lord Rothes and Sir Wil- liam Hamilton. THR KOYAL OAK. 25 The city walls, in the reparation of which hundreds of men had been employed since uiidniuht, were next inspected by hia inajesty, who was well satisfied with the progress made. He then visited both camps, and while riding along the High-street with his escort, attended by Major Careless, was loudly cheered. Ever since the king's arrival at Worcester the weather had been splendid — a circumstance that contributed in no slight degree to the gay and festive air that prevailed within the city. The taverns were dill of roystering Cavaliers, smoking, drinking, dicing, and singing bacchanalian songs. On his return from the camp at Pitchcroft, Charles paid a vi>it to the mayor at his private residence, and had a long conference with him. Having given all the instructions he deemed necessary, and feeling that his presence was no longer required, Charles, anxious to escape from the ceaseless applications by which, he was beset, crossed the river, and, still attended by his escort and Careless, rode in the direction of the Malvern Hills, his destination being Madresfield Court, an old fortified mansion, buried in the midst of thick woods of oak, beech, elm, and other trees, stretching almost from Malvern to the banks of the Severn. The day, as we have said, was splendid, though excessively hot, but shaded by the trees, which sheltered him with their mighty arms from the oppressive summer heat, Charles found the ride through the forest enchanting. He seemed to breathe more freely now that he was away from the crowded city and the bustling camps. A lovely sylvan scene, such as he had not for some time con- templated, was offered to his gaze. Madresfield Chase, which formed part of the old forest of Malvern, boasted some trees of great age and vast size. Generally the chase was fiat, but oc- casionally a knoll could be discerned, crowned with timber. A long and beautiful glade of some miles in extent led towards the ancient mansion, which could not, however, be distinguished. Rising in front, above the trees, appeared the lovely Malvern Hills, and their summits, bathed in sunshine, looked so exquisite that Charles wished he could be transported to one of them. " I never look at a mountain top," he remarked to Careless, ** without desiring to ascend to it." "'Tis a natural wish I think, my Hege," replied the aide-de- camp. " At least, I have the same feeling. Those hills are not difHcult of ascent, and command a magnificent view. The highest of tliem, and the nearest to Malvern, is the Worcestershire Beacon; the other is the Herefordshire Beacon. Both noble hills." " Can we ride to the top of the Worcestershire Beacon?" " Easily, sire." " Have you ever made the ascent on horseback?" 26 BOSCOBEL : OR, '* Never— either on horseback or on foot, sire." "Then you know nothing about it. However, the difficulties, if there are any, won't deter me. I cannot resist the inclination to ride up to the beacon. We will make the ascent in the evenings when it grows cooler. 'Tis too sultry just now." " Very true, sire. I should be loth to quit these trees for the bare hill-side." They then rode on till they came in sight of the grey old structure, which was a very good specimen of a castellated mansion, being strongly built, embattled, flanked with towers, surrounded by a broad, deep moat, defended by a drawbridge, and approached by a grand embattled gateway. During the Civil Wars, Madresfield Court had been alter- nately in the possession of the Royalists and the Roundheads. Strongly garrisoned by Charles I., taken by Colonel Fynes at the first seige of Worcester, retaken by the Royalists, and again cap- tured in 1646, it had remained, until within the last few days, in the quiet possession of its owner, Colonel Lygon, who prudently- acted with the Parliamentarians. On the arrival of Charles at Worcester, Colonel Lygon was driven forth, after an ineffectual attempt at resistance, and his mansion seized and garrisoned for the king. It was now in a condition to stand a siege, being already well victualled, and well provided with arms and ammuni- tion. Falconets were placed on the gateway, and larger ordnance on the battlements. Charles was well pleased to see the royal standard displayed from the roof of the old mansion, and to note the preparations for defence. Trumpets were sounded and drums beaten on his approach. The drawbridge was lowered, and the officers and men prepared to turn out and receive his majesty. Charles, how- ever, halted beneath a spreading oak that grew on a wide lawn in front of the mansion, and was contemplating the ancient edifice with some pride in being once more its master, when Careless drew his attention to three persons on horseback, who had just issued from an avenue on the right. From their attire, and from their steeds, the equestrians looked like persons of distinction. One of the party, who specially attracted the king's attention, was a young lady, sliglit in figure, and extremely graceful. Even beheld at that distance, it might be safely asserted that she was lovely, and when she drew near, she more than realised any notions the king had formed of her beauty. Her companions were Cavaliers undoubtedly — both fine-looking young men, dis- tinguished by their military bearing. '*Know you whom they are?" inquired the king of Careless. " Unless I mistake not, sire, he in the black velvet doublet, slashed with white, is Colonel Lane of Bentley Hall, in Stafford- shire " Pi o o Q ;zi. < THE ROYAL OAK. 27 "The Lanes are staunch RoyaHsts?" interrupted Charles. " Staunchest of the staunch, sire. With the colonel is his sister. Mistress Jane Lane, one of the fairest damsels in the county, and devoted to your majesty. He on the roan horse, and in the {^reen jerkin, laced with silver, is Sir Clement Fisher, of Packing- ton Hall, in Warwickshire." " Jane Lane's suitor, I'll be sworn !" cried Charles. "Your majesty has hit it," replied Careless, with a smile. While this brief colloquy took place, the party had stopped, as if awaiting permission to advance. " Bring them to me, and present them," said Charles. Careless, who was a preux chevalier, executed his task with infinite grace. It was a charming sight to witness Jane Lane's presentation to the young king. There was an ingenuousness in her manner that delighted Charles. She seemed to possess great spirit and force of character, and yet she had all the most agreeable feminine qualities. As to her beauty there could be no question. Brighter black eyes, features of greater dehcacy and refinement, tresses more exquisite, Charles had never beheld. Though she coloured deeply when she first encountered the king's gaze, she manifested no embarrassment. There was a certain likeness between Colonel Lane and his sister, though the colonel had strongly-marked traits, a firm mouthy and a bold, determined look. But he had dark eyes like Jane, and in them resided the expression that constituted the likeness. Sir Clement Fisher was an admirable specimen of a Cavalier — handsome, brave, chivalrous, he seemed formed to win a fair lady's heart. Whether he had won that of Jane Lane will be seen. " How is it I have not yet seen you at W orcester, gentlemen?"' inquired Charles. " We are on our way thither, sire," replied Colonel Lane. "You will see us at the Muster at Pitchcroft to-morrow. We have not been lukewarm in your majesty's cause." " Even I have done something for you, sire," said Jane. "This morning I have secured your majesty forty horse; and I hope to render you still better service before the day is over." " My sister is zealous, you perceive, sire," remarked Colonel Lane, with a smile. " Were there a hundred like her I should soon have an army,"" observed Charles, highly pleased. " But what is the great ser- yice you hope to render me?" "Nay, sire," she rejoined, playfully, "you must allow me to keep my secret, 'Twill be a surprise to you to-morrow." " Then I will ask you no further questions, yet I would fain know why you came here. You could not have expected to find me at Madresfield." "Pardon me, your majesty, I did expect to find you iiere.** 28 BOSCOBKL ; OR, " Oddsfish ! you must be a witch/' ciied Charles, laughing^ " There is no sorcery in tlie matter, sire. Have you not sent a messenger to Mr. Thomas Hornyold, of Blackmore Park, com- manding him to attend upon you at Madresfield this afternoon?" , "And you have seen the messenger?" "I have, sire. I have read the message, and I told Tom Hornvold I would come in his stead, and make his excuses. The blame of his disobedience of your majesty's order must rest entirely with me. I have sent him to Sir Rowland Berkeley." " Indeed !" exclaimed Charles. " He will do more good with Sir Rowland than here. But that is not all. He has promised me to see Sir Walter Blount, Sir John Winford, and Mr. Ralph Sheldon of Beoly. Will you forgive now for my great presumption, sire?" " Forr'ive you ! I am beyond measure indebted to you." " Sire"^!" she cried, with a look that bespoke her conviction of the truth of what she uttered, "I believe that I am destined tc render you a signal service. My brother will confirm what I am about to say. It was foretold of me when I was a child, by a famous astrologer, that I should save a prince's life. Tlie prophecy must refer to you." "It may be so," said Charles, smiling at her enthusiasm. ''At all events, I shall look upon you as my guardian angel." " My heart beats only witli loyalty, sire. I have no other feel- ing in my breast." " No other feeling, fair mistress?" said the king, glancing towards Sir Clement. "It is perfectly true, sire," observed the young baronet, with a somewhat despondent look. " Mistress Jane Lane vows she will never wed till your majesty is seated on the throne." " And I will keep my vow," cried Jane. "Then I trust ere long Sir Clement may be in a position to claim you, and that I may be present at your nuptials," said Charles. "But whither you go?" he added, seeing they were preparing to depart. " Will you not enter the house?" " We must pray your majesty to excuse us," said Colonel Lane, bowing. " We have much to do. We are going to cross the hills into Herefordshire.'' " Nay, then you must stay till the heat of the day is abated, and I myself will bear you company for part of your journey, for I design to ascend the Worcestershire Beacon. 'Tis not (it your ' sister should be exposed to this fierce sun." " I am not one of those damsels that care for my complexion, *ire," observed Jane, laughing. " The sun will not melt me." "Nay, then I will not detain you," rejoined Charles. " I shall eee you to-morrow at the Muster at Pitchcroft. You must not be absent, fair mistress." , . , THE ROYAL OAK. 2$ " Be sure Iwlll not, sire," slie replied. Bending reverentially to the kinf^, she rode off with the others. *'A noble once more, sweet Mary, I feel grateful for it," he rejoined. THE ROYAL OAK. 81 "Speak not thus lightly," she said. " 'Tis a grave matter." , "Before you mention it, then, let me ask how you came 'to throw yourself away upon tliat detestable Roundhead? You must be heartily sick of him already." " If you persist in talking thus you will frighten me away, and I sliall leave unsaid what I have to tell you — and it is very im- portant." "Nay, by all that is bewitching, I swear you shall not go," he cried, catching her hand. "Be seriou?, if you can, for a single instant, and listen to me." "Tell me you are resolved to abandon Urso, and I will be as serious as you please." " You put everything out of my head by your trifling talk. How very different you are from Urso, to be sure! He is always grave." " Yes, I warrant me you rarely catch a smile on his sour visage. But I hope there are few points of resemblance between him and me. Again I ask, how could you marry such a man?" "'Twas all my grandam's doing," she sighed. "And you have bitterly repented of the foolish step ever since, I'll be sworn. Confess, and I'll forgive you, though, I own, the effort will be difficult." "Then pray don't make it. Unless you listen to my warning, you will fall into a snare that has been privily laid for you." "Privily laid for me by Urso, eh? The Roundhead rogue had better take care of himselfj or you will speedily become a widow." " It is not of Urso I would warn you. Do not take part in the camisade to-night." " The camisade !" he exclaimed, in surprise. " How do you know there is to be a camisade? Who has told you of it? Answer me that." All his levity had vanished. As she did not answer, he repeated the question still more peremptorily. "No matter who told me," she rejoined. " If you value your life you will not go. I have warned you. Do as you please. Farewell !" " Stay ! we must not part thus. You spoke of a snare being privily laid for me. What was your meaning?" " I will tell you nothing more," she rejoined. And breaking from him, she flew towards the inn. Just as she reached the door the Cavaliers came forth in a body. Some of them tried to stop her, but she pushed them aside and got into the house. Careless thought of following her and insisting on an explana- tion, but after a moment's reflection he concluded that, since she Avas lodoing at the inn, she must have overheard the loud and in- platform had been constructed to enable the kinc; and his attendants to look over them without inconvenience. Above the tower, on a tall flag-staff, floated the royal standard. Springing up the wooden steps Charles leaned over the south, parapet, and gazed eagerly at the posts of the enemy. In another minute the whole of the battlements were thronged, and a dozen field-glasses anxiously directed towards Perry Wood and Ked Hill. The main body of the Parliamentary army which now occupied the former post remained stationary, but it was evident that some movement was taking place on the western slopes of Red Hill — probably in the direction of the Severn — and thinking this might be so, Charles directed his scrutiny to the near bank of the river, but though he scanned it carefully for a couple of miles he could discern notliing to justify alarm. The river that flowed past the lofty pile on which he stood was nowhere disturbed. Next following the Teme from its point of junction with the larger river — its course being easily traced by the witliies and willows fringing its banks — his eye rested on the old bridge of Powick. A desperate effort he had always felt would be made by tlie enemy, early in the day, to secure this pass; but he did not fore- see, nor did any of his generals foresee, the skilful manoeuvre by which its capture would be effected. Charles had every reliance on General Montgomery's vigilance and bravery, supported as he was by Colonel George Keith. Viewed from the cathedral tower on that bright morning^ Powick seemed close at hand, and though the old bridge was partially veiled in a slight mist arising from the river, Mont- gomery's brigade could be seen drawn up on Wykefield, a large meadow, close beside it — the helmets and accoutrements of the men flashing in the sunbeams. Satislied that Montgomery was on the alert, and that no im- mediate danger threatened him, Charles continued his inspection^ and, with his field-glass, swept the district lying between Powick and Upton. Suddenly an exclamation broke from him that caused all the otlier glasses to be turned in the same direction as his own, and it was then perceived by all that a large body of cavalry was skirting the Old Hills. Almost immediately afterwards another regiment of horse couldi be descried somewhat nearer the Severn. Both were evidently advancing upon Powick Bridge. f^reat power and accuracy. These valuable additions to tlie ancient cathedral are to be supplemented by very perfect musical chimes, the mechanical appliances of which will be the gift of a great local benefactor, Aldermau J. W. Lea.— 11. W. TI]E KOYAL OAK. 10 Jf " That must be Fleetwood's brigade," cried Charles, still keep- ing his glass fixed on the troops. " Your majesty is right," observed Massey, who was standing behind the king. " It is Fleetwood's regiment — Ingoldsby is nearer the river — and with him are GofF and Gibbons. The troops coming tli rough Woodsfield copse, if I mistake not, are commiinded by General Deane. Montgomery will have enouo-h to do to maintain the bridge against such odds." • Ci CD "He must be reinforced — and quickly," cried Charles. "No troops can be spared from the city. Dalyell must send a detachment from St. John's. Careless shall take a message to him at once." " I will go myself, sire," said Missey, "and take command of the detachment." " But have you strength enough for the task, general?" " My strength will return when I meet the enemy," rejoined Massey. Charles did not attempt to stay him, and he departed. Again the king watched the regiments advancing from Upton. Thev came on slowly and cautiously, while the skirmishers scoured the fields and lanes. "How is this?" cried Charles, angrily. "Are they to be allowed to reach Powick without hindrance?" "Not so, my lieize," replied Middleton, who had taken Massey 's- place behind the king. "They will meet with a warm reception anon. Look more closely, and you will perceive that the hedges. are lined with soldiers. Those are your new recruits, and they are just the men for this sort of work. Ah ! they are beginning- in earnest now." As he spoke, firing was heard in the distance, and looking- in the direction of the sound, Charles perceived that several of the- skirmishers had been shot down, while the riderless horses were careering wildly over the field. A stronger party Avas instantly sent on to clear the hedges.. But this was no easy task. General Middleton was right. The new recruits understood this kind of fighting. Excellent marks- men, and well posted, they gave their enemies a vast deal of trouble. Driven from one spot, they quickly took up another position, and even Avhile retreating managed to do considerable execution. Their oflicers knew every inch of ground, and where to place them. Advantage was taken of every lane and. defile, and the enemy's progress towards Powick was very con- siderably checked. Among the officers who commanded these gallant little bands, which were scattered about the coppices and orchards in order to> distract the enemy, and if possible throw him into confusion, were Colonel Lane, Captain Hornyold, and Sir Rowland Berkeley o5 Cotheridge. Sir Rowland rode a piebald horse, and the pecu- 106 BOSCOBEL; OR, liarity of his steed caused him to be remarked by Colonel Goff. In Sir Rowland's corps were Lieutenant Vosper and Corporal Trubshaw, both of whom displayed great courage. Half of this brave little corps were cut down ; but the rest — and Vosper and Trubsliaw were among them — reached Powick Bridge, and were then posted with Captain Woolfe in a water-mill on the banks of the Teme. CHAPTER XXV. HOW CROMWELL CONSTRUCTED A BRIDGE OF BOATS ACROSS THE SEVERN. Charles and his council were still watching with great interest the desultory fighting previously described, and expressing surprise and admiration at the courage and pertinacity displayed by the recruits, when their attention was suddenly called to a circumstance that materially tended to increase the king's anxiety. About a mile below the city, on the lel't bank of the river, is a woody acclivity called Bunn's Hill. It is a fine grassy slope, and the land beyond the summit has a park-like appearance, being •ornamented with fine timber and coppices. The high road to Bath, which passes over Bunn's Hill, is distant about half a mile from the Severn. The hill itself slopes towards the river, and there is more Tough wood on that side than on the summit. After passing the top, and getting on to the level, the slope towards the Severn becomes somewhat more precipitous, until a place is reached, now •called "The Ketch" — about half a mile beyond the summit of ■the hill. For some distance the bank is then a nearly perpen- xi4 BOSCOBEL; OH, " I beseech you not to call upon them to make the attack, sire. They will not follow you." " Not follow me !" exclaimed Charles, fiercely. *' Lesley, yon are a traitor !" *' I have already told you, sire," replied Lesley, in the same low voice, " that the men are not to be relied on. They will not fight with your Cavaliers." " What will they do, then?" demanded Charles, sternly. "Will they utterly desert me in my hour of need? Will they deliver me to the enemy?" "No, sire; but if, in obedience to your commands, I order them to attack yon battery, not one of them will stir." Just then the roar of artillery was heard. The battery had opened fire on Fort Ro3'^al, and was immediately answered — as we have already described — by the Royalist eno;ineers. The din was heightened by the smaller ordnance of the Blockhouse, which now began to operate — though with little effect — against Crom- well's intrenchments. " Can you hear this, and stand tamely by?' observed Charles, reproachfully, to Lesley. " I cannot help it, my liege," was the Scottish leader's answer. " My men are mutinous and will not obey me. Look at them now, and you will be convinced that I speak the truth. But do not, I entreat you, compel me to put their disloyalty to the proof. Charles cast his eye along the line nearest him, and the sullen and discontented aspect of the men fully confirmed Lesley's assertion. The Earl of Derby had likewise taken a rapid survey of the regiment, and came to a like conclusion. " A mutinous spirit evidently prevails among the men," he said to the king, " and may break out at once, if an attempt is made to force them into action. Leave Lesley to manage them. He can do it, if he will." " 'Tis the confounded Kirk committee that has been at work with them," cried Charles. " Lesley," he added, in a low signifi- cant tone to the Scottish leader, " you will gain nothing by deserting me ; but much — very much — by standing firmly by me at this critical juncture." " My liege," said Lesley, earnestly, "if you are in jeopardy, I will bring you aid. I cannot promise more." Obliged to be content with this, Charles rode off with his attendants and escort, and regardless of the enemy's fire, which was now extending along the heights and increasing in fury, pro- ceeded to visit his various outposts. Very little impression was produced upon Fort Royal by the heavy cannonade directed against it from Perry Wood, nor was any immediate attempt made by the enemy to storm it. THE ROYAL OAK. 11') Lilburn and Lord Grey of Gioby gradually drew closer to the Royalist outposts, but secincd to be awaiting the Lord General's signal for the grand attack. And such, in reality, was the case. From the apparent inertness of the enemy it was erroneously supposed by the Royalists that most of the Parliamentary troops had been drawn to the other side of the Severn. Cromwell, however, had a motive for all ho did, and if he delayed the attack, it was because he deemed the right moment i'or making it had not arrived. Never was lie more cheerful than he appeared to be through- out this trying day. Confident of victory, he yet kept a watcliful look-out upon the enemy, and seemed surprised that the attack, which he expected the king to make upon him, should be so long delayed. For this attack, come when it might, he was fully prepared; but as evening began to draw on, and no movement was made by the royal forces, he grew impatient. *' Time will scarcely be allowed us for the work," he said to the officers with him, "yet will I not move till I have full assu- rance that Fleetwood and Ingoldsby are masters of St. John's, and ready to enter the city." At this moment a messenger rode up bringing the intelligence he so eagerly desired. Montgomery was utterly routed — Keith a prisoner — Dalyell had surrendered. Fleetwood and Ingoldsby wei'e preparing to cross the bridge, and enter the city. Lambert was marching towards the bridge of boats, and would soon bring his regiment to Perry Wood. Such was the sum of the despatch. The messenger had to take a circuitous route, or it would have been delivered sooner, Cromwell could not conceal his satisfaction. " The Lord of Hosts is with us," he exclaimed. " His holy arm hath gotten us the victory. Nothing remains but to finish the work so well begun. On this day twelvemonth, at Dunbar, the word was, *The Lord of Hosts.' So let it be to-day. The signal then was, * We have no white about us.' The same signal shall serve now. Make this known throughout the regiments, and then prepare for action." While issuing these orders, Cromwell had noticed a movement at the Sidbiiry-gate, and now fixing his field-glass upon the spot he perceived that the main body of the royal army, horse and foot, was coming forth from the gate, evidently for the purpose of attacking him. He was at no loss to discover that the host was coroimanded by the king in person, and that Charles was attended by several of his most distinguished nobles. Indeed, from a closer survey, he felt certain that the Dukes of Hamilton and Buckingham were with him. i2 116 BOSCOBEL ; CR, It was a splendid si^lit to see that j^allant host issue forth from -the gate, and familiar as lie was with such spectacles, Cromwell watched it for some minutes with great interest — noting the strength of each regiment, and making many shrewd observations to his own officers. " Charles Stuart hath come forth in all his bravery," he said. " But he and all his host shall be utterly discomfited. Up, and smite them. Spare none of the malignants. As to their prince, take him not captive, but slay him without pity." Many circumstances had conspired to prevent Charles from making the attack he had meditated upon the enemy until so late in the day. But when he learnt that Daly ell had suriendered he no longer hesitated, but marched forth as we have just described. He was accompanied by the Dukes of Buckingham and Hamilton, the Earl of Derby, Lord Wilmot, Sir AlexanderForbes, and several other distinguished personages, and had with him his best infantry and cavalry, and his bravest Cavaliers. The command of the right wing was given to the Duke of Hamilton, that of the left to the Earl of Derby, with whom was Colonel Koscarrock, while he himself commanded the centre. Perry Wood was to be attacked on either side, while a charge was made on the battery. The plan was executed with remarkable quickness and pre- cision. No sooner were the men formed than a ; threw himself from his horse, and contrived to creep past the waggon. As he entered Sidbury-street, Mr. William Bagnal, a staunch loyalist, who dwelt in that quarter, rode towards him, and, instantly dismounting, offered him his horse. The steed, thus opportunely provided lor his majesty, was of infinite service to him in the day, as will be shown. Once more on horseback, Charles rode up to the High-street, and found it full of soldiers, most of them belonging to the Scottish infantry. They had all a most dejected look, and on seeing him, many of them threw down their arms, to intimate their refusal to fight any longer. In vain he rode up and down their ranks, with his feathered hat in his hand, addressing them with a passionate eloquence that ought to have roused them. " Stand to your arms 1" he cried. " Fight like men, and we shall yet conquer. Follow me, and I will lead you to victory. Ours is the right cause, and truth and justice must prevail in the end. Follow your king 1" Findins:, however, that they would not stir, he called out in accents of bitter reproach, " Recreants that you are to desert rae thus. If you will not fight, turn your arms against me. I had rather you would shoot me than let me live to see the conse- quences of this fiital day." He then rode slowly off towards the College Green, still hoping some might follow him, but none stirred. CHAPTER XXX. HOW THE ENEMY ENTERED THE CITY, AND HOW THE KING QUITTED IT. Meanwhile, a sharp conflict was taking place outside the Sid- bury-gate between a party of flying Royalists and a troop of horse under Colonel Pride. The unlucky Royalists were unable to enter 120 BOSCOBEL ; OR, the city owing to the obstacle before mentioned, and, after a short struggle, were slain to a man in front of the gate. The ammunition warrsron beinfj removed, a regiment of infantry rushed, in through the Sidbury-gate, and encountering no opposi- tion, the men spread themselves through the lower streets of the city, and. commenced plundering the houses. The loyal city was now paying the penalty of its devotion to the king. Terror and confusion reigned everywhere. Doors were burst open, and the most horrible threats were answered by shrieks and cries for pity, but no pity was shown by the ferocious soldiery. By this time Fort R)yal had been stormed, as we have already related, and its guns being turned upon the city, the destruction caused in various parts by the shot heightened the terror of tlie inhabitants. Desperate fighting was going on in all quarters, and nothing was heard but the clash of steel, the sliarp ring of musketry, and the roar of artillery, mingled with shouts and cries. Fleetwood and Ingoldsby liad now forced their way across the bridge, but their entrance into the city was furiously opposed by such forces as could be rallied by Lord AVilmot, Colonel Blague, Colonel Lane, and other?, but the contest was too unequal, and could not be long sustained. As both horse and foot were now continually pouring into the city on all sides, conflicts were taking place in almost every street. There was desperate fighting on the west as well as on the east. There was fighting on the quay — in Newport-street and Dolday — near All Saints' Church — and in Broad-street. There was no "fighting near the Cross — for the Foregate, as already mentioned, had been walled up — and, indeed, the enemy chiefly entered the city from the Sidbury-gate, from Friars'-gate, and from the bridge. But there was a great deal of fighting in Friars'-street, Lich- street, and multitudes of armed citizens and artillerymen who had been driven from the walls were running about in different direc- tion?. Hundreds of these were killed, for quarter was given to none witli arms in their hands, and the streets were full of dead bodies. The Scottish infantry tamely surrendered, and were shut up in the cathedral. They liad better have died valiantly, for they were afterwards sold as slaves to the plantations. But other Scottish regiments behaved with the greatest resolution, and if all had done equally well, the result of the day might have been dif- ferent. Castle Hill, as we know, had been strongly fortified, and was held by the Earl of Rothes, Sir William Hamilton, and Colonel Drummond, with a party of brave and loyal Scots. The fortress was attacked by Lambert and Harrison, but was so obsti- nately defended that its leaders were able to capitulate on advan- tageous terms. Having thus endeavoured to describe the friirhtful condition to which the city was reduced by the entrance of the enemy, we will THE ROYAL OAK. 121 now return to Charles, whom we left proceeding in a most melan- choly frame of mind, and wholly unattended, towards the College Green. So <;ast down was he at the moment that he scarcely took note of anything that was passing around liim, when he was suddenly roused from his fit of despondency by seeing a large troop of horse issue from the college gates. It was a party of Cavaliers headed by the Earl of Derby, Lord Cleveland, Colonel Roscarrock, Colonel Wogan, and Careless, and on making this discovery he immediately rode up, and was welcomed with the greatest delight by the Earl of Derby, as well as by his faithful attendant Careless. l"he greatest uneasiness had been felt for his safet}', and it was feared he might have fallen into the hands of the enemy. Nor were the Cavaliers composing the troop less delighted, and their enthusiasm quickly raised his drooping spirits. He put himself at their head, and, despite the entreaties of the Earl of Derby tliat he would seek safety in flight, he led tliem towards the Sidbury-gate. But they had scarcely descended Lich-street when Colonel Pride's regiment of horse was seen advancing, and an instant onset upon it was made. As on all previous occasions, the first advantage was with the Cavaliers, but Pride and his men were not to be driven back. As soon as it was discovered that Charles was with the party, an attempt was made by Pride to capture him, and it would have been successful if Careless had not flown to his rescue. The Cavaliers still made a desperate struggle, but it was evi- dent they could not hold out long. Charles, who had been left for a few minutes in the rear after his rescue, was again about to place himself at their head, but Careless earnestly besought him to fly. " The day is lost, my liege — utterly lost!" exclaimed this faith- ful attendant. " Save yourself, while there is yet time. We can hold out long enough to cover your escape. Fly, I entreat you." " No. I cannot — will not — abandon my faithful followers," cried Charles. " Your presence unnerves us, my liege," implored Careless. ** See you not that the enemy is resolved to capture you, or slay you. Baulk his design by instant flight. We will prevent all pursuit till you are safe. Quit the city by St. Martin' s-gate. 'Tis the only safe outlet. Ride on to Barbourne Bridge, where those of us who are left alive will join you when all is over here." Charles yielded to these entreaties, though with the greatest reluctance, and Careless rushed to the front. Captain Woolfe and Vesper chanced to be near the king at the time, and lie ordered them to follov/ him. Divining his intentions, they instantly obeyed. On the way to St. Martin' s-gate, he had to pass the ancient mansion which he had latterly made his private quarters, and wish- 122 BOSCOBEL; OR, ing to enter it for a moment to take off the heaviest part of his armour, which might incommode him during his fliglit, and possess himself" of some vahiables he had left behind, he dismounted, and giving his steed to Vosper, entered the house. His imprudence in doing so had well-nigh led to his capture He did not imagine that his flight had been discovered by the enemy, but he was mistaken. Quick eyes had been upon him at the time. Colonel James, who had recovered from his wounds^ was with the Parliamentarians, and seeing the king quit his adherents, guessed his purpose. But for some minutes pursuit was impossible, owing to the obstinate resistance of the Cavaliers. At length. Colonel JameSj, accompanied by a dozen dragoons, forced his way into New- street, and was galloping along it when he caught sight of Woolfe and Vosper with the king's horse. They instantly dis- appeared, but he had seen enough. He knew tliat Charles had made that old mansion his private quarters, and felt convinced he must be within it at the time. Galloping up, he entered with half a dozen of his troopers, leaving the rest on guard outside. Luckily for Charles, his pursuers had neglected to secure a door that opened into the Corn Market. Before moving off, Woolfe and Vosper gave the alarm. The king had already divested himself of his armour, and was prepared for flight. At the very moment that Colonel James and his troopers entered, he passed out at the back. Not many persons were in the Corn Market at the time, and the few he encountered being staunch Royalists, would have protected him with their lives, rather than have betrayed him. Woolfe and Vosper were not in sight, but he learnt they had gone out by St. Martin's- gate. Hurrying thither, he passed through the gate without inter- ference — for the Parliamentarians had not yet placed a guard there — and in another instant was joined by his attendants, who brought him his horse. Quickly mounting his steed, he galloped off in the direc- tion of Barbourne Bridge. He was not pursued — false in- formation being given to Colonel James, which led him to believe that the royal fugitive had not quitted the city After awhile Charles slackened his pace, but just then he heard the trampling of horse benind him, and fancying the enemy was on his track, was about to gallop on, when he dis- covered that his fancied pursuers were a small party of his own cavalry. He then faced about, and as the troop di-ew nearer, found that at its head were the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl of Lauderdale. A painful meeting took place between the king and the two nobles. They were seeking safety in flight, and were rejoiced to find that his majesty had escaped. THE ROYAL OAK. 12:5 Soon afterwarrloj several small parties of Royalists overtook them — no other route bein<^ open to the fugitives. Charles^ therefore, had no lack of attendants. On reaching Barbourne Bridge, to his great surprise, he found Lesley and his regiment of horse. " Soh ! you are here," he cried, furiously. " I sought for you in vain in the city. Your men must be fresh since they have taken no part in tlie light. Come back with mo at once and help me to retrieve the fortune of the day." " Sire," replied Loi^ley, calmly, " the contest from the first ha& been hopeless, and your troops are now annihilated. It would be madness to return. I have been waiting for you here." " Waiting for me?" exclaimed Charles. " Ay, waiting for you, s^ire. I knew you would come this way^. since none other is open to you. I am ready to conduct you tO' Scotland." " But I will not return thither to be the slave I have been,*'' cried Charles. "I will rather die in England." " Humour him, my liege — humour him. He may be of use now," observed Buckingham, in a low tone. " Your majesty has now no option," remarked Lesley, coldly. " You must go back to Scotland. I will insure you a safe retreats 'Tis for that purpose I have reserved my troops." " Say you so?" cried Charles. " Then I must needs go with you. But I must wait here for my friends." " Your majesty will have to wait long ere some of them joiiii you," saitl Lesley. " At least they have not deserted me," rejoined the king. CHAPTER XXXL THE LAST STAND MADE BY THE KOYALISTS. Once more we must enter the ill-fated city, which was now completely in the power of the enemy, though many a con- flict was still going on Avithin it. So inflamed with fury were the Cavaliers, that they fell upon the foot soldiers who had beert plundering the houses, and were so much encumbered with booty that they could not defend themselves, and slew such numbers of them that Friars'-street was quite choked up with dead bodies.. On neither side was quarter given. " The hour of vengeance is come," shouted the fierce Crom- wellians. " Slay the Amalekites. Destroy them uttei'ly — so that they may never more rise against us." 124 BOSCOBEL; OR, "Down with the rebellious sectaries!" cried the Cavaliers. ^' Spare them not. Kill them as you would wild beasts*. " Suva^e shouts like these were heard on all sides, proclaimlnrj the deadly animosity ot the combatants which could be satisfied \vith nothing but slaughter. The last stand made by the Royalists was at the Guildhall, and a more orallant stand was never made, because success seemed out of the question. A tolerably strong pai'ty of Cavaliers had been rallied by Careless, Sir Rowland Berkeley, Colonel Legge, Colonel Lane, and Captain Hornyold. They assembled, as we have said, in front of the Guildhall. With them were the Earl of Cleveland, Sir James Hamilton, Colonel Wogan, and some others. They were attacked on the left by Fleetwood, and on the right by Lambert, with wliom was Cromwell in person. In the fierce conflict that ensued, many were slain, and many more taken prisoners, but all the leaders escaped, except Sir James Hamilton, who was severely wounded. Finding the contest hopeless, and that they should soon be shut up within the city, without tlie possibility of escape, Careless and the others dashed down Pump-street, and made their way to Sr. Martin's-gate. Having thus got out of the city, they rode as quickly as they could to Barbourne Bridge, where they found the king. JJepiived of all its defenders, its bravest inhabitants slain, or made captive, tlie city w;is tlien delivered over to the rapacious and fanatical soldiery, wlio luid obtained possession of it. On the frightful atrocities perpetrated during that night upon the wretched inhabitants by the barbarous hordes let loose upon them, we shall not dwell. Suffice it to say that the sack of Rome under the Constable de Bourbon scarcely exceeded the sack of Worcester in horror. Imagination cannot conceive scenes more dreadful than actually •occurred. No soldiers were ever more savage, more ruflianly, more merciless tlian the Parliamentary troops. Cromwell himself had left the city before the direst deeds were enacted, but he well knew what would happen. He did not expressly sanction pillage •and rapine and all other atrocious acts, but he did not forbid them, ■and, at all events, did not punish the offenders. On that night, at the very time when the diabolical atrocities we have hinted at, but cannot describe — when outrages the most frightful were being committed by his soldiery, without the ■slightest interference from his officers, the Lord General wrote in these terms to the Parliament: " This hath been a very glorious mercy, and as stiff a contest iox four or five hours as ever 1 have seen. Botli your old forces and those new raised have behaved themselves with very great THE UOYAL OAK. 125 coiirflfTo, nnd Ho thnt maile them come out, made them willing to fi;;ht ior you. The Lord God Almighty frame our hearts to real timnkfulness for this, which is alone His doing." The darkest part of the picture was carefully kept out of sight, and notliing dwelt upon but the " glorious mercy " vouchsafed him and his forces. Yet no mercy was shown by the conquerors, on that dreadful night — the worst they ever had to endure — to the miserable inhabitants of faithful Worcester. CHAPTER XXXH. THE C0N3UL'^ATI0N AT BAllBOUKNE BRIDGE, AND THE KING S FLIGHT. We left the king at Barbourne Bridge. By this time he had been joined by the E:irl of Derby, the Earl of Lauderdale, the Lords Talbot and Wilmot, Colonel Roscarrock, Colonel Blague^ Charles Gifiard, and many other Cavaliers, and a consultation was held as to what course should be pursued. All were of opinion tliat the day wns irretrievably lost, and this opinion wa& confirmed by the arrival of Careless and the others, who told how they had been worsted in the last desperate struggle at the Guildhall. " More thnn half of this brave battalion are gone," exclaimed Careless. " The rest are dispersed, and will never be got together again. Such frightful havoc has been made among the citizens, who have been slain by hundreds by these ferocious Roundheads, that no more fighting men can be got together. All is lostF Your majesty's standard has been torn down everywhere, and re- placed by the flag of the Commonwealth. From this spot you may see their hateful standard floating on the cathedral tower." Overpowered by this ill news, Charles could make no reply. "All we can now do for your majesty is to save you from these ravening wolves and regicides," cried the Earl of Derby, " anci that, with Heaven's grace, we will do !" "We will defend your majesty to the last," cried the Lord& Talbot and Wilmot, and several others. "Alas! how many are gone!" exclaimed Charles. "Brave Sir John Douglas dead — the Duke of Hamilton mortally wounded. Where is Lord Sinclair? — where are others of my Scottish peers? — where is Sir James Hamilton? — where is Sir Alexander Forbes?" " Sir James Hamilton is killed, my liege," replied Careless. " Sir Alexander Forbes is badly hurt — perhaps dead. Several of the 126 boscobel; or, Scottish nobles have been taken prisoners in the city. But think not of them — think of your own safety. What will you do?" " Make all haste to London," replied the king. " By riding hard I shall arrive there before tidings of the battle can be re- ceived." "A good plan," cried Lord Wilmot, "Your majesty has many staunch adherents in London." " I like not the plan," cried the Duke of Buckingham. " If adopted, it will end in your majesty's destruction. The moment your defeat is known, your adherents will fall from you, and you will be at the mercy of your enemies." Almost all the others concurred witli tlie duke in opinion, and ■were strenuously opposed to the king's plan. "Nay, then," he exclaimed, "there is nothing for it but Scot- land. I will go thither." " Your majesty has decided right," observed Lesley. " His approval is enough to make uie change my mind,'' ob- served Charles, withdrawing to a short distance with the Earl of Derby. " Go not to London, my liege, I entreat you," said the earl, ^''Tis the most perilous and rash scheme you could adopt. You will have dangers enough to encounter in whatever direction you proceed, but London is most dangerous of all. That you will be quickly pursued, and a heavy price set on your head, is certain, for Cromwell's victory will be shorn of half its splendour if you escape him. In England your chance is lost. It grieves me to say so, but I cannot hide the truth. You cannot get another army together. To Scotland, I see, you like not to return. The sole alternative, therefore, is an escape to France." "That is what I desire," replied Cliarles, "But where can I embark ?" "At Bristol, my liege, it may be — but that must be for after consideration. Conceal yourself for a time, and no safer hiding- place can be found than Boscobel, where I myself took refuge." At this moment Colonel Roscarrock came up. "How say you, Roscarrock?" asked the king, "Think you I should be safe at Boscobel?" *' I am sure of it, my liege," replied the other. " Strange your majesty should put the question to me, seeing I was just about to counsel you to take refuge there," " You have already described the house to me," observed Charles. "But can the occupants be trusted?" " Perfectly," said the Earl of Derby. " Your majesty has no more faithful subjects than the Penderels of Boscobel. Charles Giffard is here. Will your majesty speak with him?" " Not now," replied Charles. " I would not have it known that I am about to seek a place of concealment, and were I to confer THE ROYAL OAK. 127 with Cliarles Gifrurd just now, my design would be suspected. We have only one traitor here — but I must guard against indiscre- tion. How far is it to Boscobel?" *' Some six-and-twenty miles, my liege," replied Roscarrock. ** Your horse looks fresh, and will take you there in a few hours, if wo are not interrupted. We must go by Kidderminster and Stourbridge towards Wolverhampton." "Lord Talbot is well acquainted with the country, and will serve as guide," observed the Earl of Derby. " He has a servant with him, who knows the whole district, and will be very useful." The king now signed to Careless, and taking him apart, informed him of his design, bnt bade him say nothing about it, except to Lord Talbot, Lord Wilmot, Colonel Lane, Charles Giffard, and a few others. Careless entirely approved of the plan, for he was terribly alarmed for the king's safety. The word being now given that every one must shift for hhnself. Sir Rowland Berkeley, Captain Hornyold, and several other county gentlemen took leave of the king with such warm expressions of unwavering devotion and loyalty as greatly touched his majesty. Lesley, with his Scottish cavalry, took the direct road northward by Newport. Escorted by some sixty Cavaliers, all well mounted and well armed, and accompanied by the Duke of Buckingham, the Earl of Derby, the Earl of Lauderdale, Lord Wilmot, Colonels Roscarrock, Lane, Blague, and Charles Giffard, and of course attended by Careless, the king started on his flight. lEnij of t!)C JFirst Bool; 12S EOSCOBEL; Oit, WHITELADIKS. CHAPTER I. HOTT CROMWELL VISITED THE DYING DUKE OF HAMILTON AT THE COMMAN- DERY; and what passed BETWEEN THEM. On the morn after the battle, there was weeping and wailing in Worcester, for those lying slauglitered in the houses and streets. Everywhere heart-rending scenes occurred, but they excited no pity in the breasts of the savage foe. Believing they had per- formed a work of righteous vengeance, the stern sectaries felt no compunction for what they had done. The city had been deli- vered to them. They had plundered the houses, slain all who opposed them, committed every possible atrocity, and were now searching for the malignant?, wlio had sought refuge in cellars and other secret places. Many prisoners of importance were thus made. Among those placed under the custody of the marshal-general, and subsequently sent to the Tower, were the Earls of Cleveland, Rothes, and Kelly, with the Lords Sinclair and Grandison, General Massey, and the valiant Pitscottie. Some were too severely wounded to be moved. Sir James Hamilton, Sir Alexander Forbes, Sir John Douglas, and General Mont- gomery were dangerously hurt — while the Duke of Hamilton was lying at the Commandery, mortally wounded. Fanshawe, the king's private secretary, was captured, and treated with especial favour by Cromwell, who was desirous of winning him over, but he rejected the Lord General's overtures. The mayor and the sheriff were committed to custody and ordered to be tried at Chester. A vast number of other prisoners were made, whom it is needless to particularise. But Cromwell had lost his chief prize. For some hours it was supposed — chiefly on Colonel James's representation — that the king was concealed within the city, and every precaution was taken to prevent his escape. But before morning assured intelligence was Foregare, An^el Street. Anpel Lane. St. Nicholas Church. fiaol Lane (now St Nicholas Street ) Trinity. St Martin's flate. St. Martin's Church. Corn Market. Mealcheapen Street. Goosethrottle (now a continuation of M eal- cheapen Street) St. Swithio s Church St. Swithin's Street The Shambles. The Croes. Broad Street. All Saints Church. l>ol(l«y. Newport Street. St Clement's Church (now removed), Keyn Street. Grope Lane. All Itallows. Birdport. St Andrew's Church. Cooken Street (now Copenhagen Street). . High Street. Pump Street. , New Street. , Friars' Street. Site of Grey Friars. , Friarfi' Gate. , A Blockhouse, tlii* district i^ now called the Blockhouse ) . St. Albtn's Church. High Street. Fish Street. St. Helen's Cliurch. The Town Hall, or Guildhall. PfllMce Yflrd. Lich Street. College G«te8. The Bishop's Palace. Cathedral. Edgar Street, and 4ft. Sidbui-yStreet St. Peter's t hurch. Sidbury Gate. Edgar's Tower. A Strong Stone Wall A Moat. Castle Hill Fort. Site of the Ueanery. College Green, PLAN OF WORCESTER IN 1651. THE UOYAL OAK, 129 brought to the Lord General that Charles Stuart had unques- tionably fled towards the north, accompanied \)y tlie Duke of BuckinL,diuin, the Earls of Derby and Lauderdale, and several others, and that Leslie, with his Scottish cavalry, had taken the same direction. On receivinsx these tidings, Cromwell gave immediate orders that Lilburn, Fleetwood, and Harrison, each with a regiment of horse, should start in pursuit of the Royalist leaders. At the same time he especially enjoined Colonel James to follow on Charles Stuart's track, in case the Young Man should separate himself — as was not unlikely — from his attendants. A Proclamation was likewise issued, promising a reward of One Thousand Pounds to any one who should discover the person of Charles Stuart — while the penalty of high treason was declared against all tho?e who should harbour or conceal him. Copies of tins Proclamation were forthwith despatched by swift messengers to all towns near which it was deemed likely the fugitive monarch would pass. Colonel James, with a detachment of horse, started at once for Stourport, while the three Republican generals, previously mentioned, prepared to follow the retreating Scottish cavalry. The companies of militia stationed at the various towns were ■ordered to keep strict watch, and arrest all fugitive soldiers and maiignants. Moreover, they were enjoined to search the houses of all declared Royalists. Several country gentlemen, resident in the neighbourhood ot" Worcester, and suspected of taking part in the conflict, were arrested on the night of the battle. Sir Rowland Berkeley had a narrow escape. On taking leave of Charles at Barbourne Bridge, as previously related, the brave Royalist turned towards his old mansion, Cotheridge, in a very dejected frame of mind. Not merely was he anxious for the king's safety, but for his own. He felt that his peril was materially increased by the peculiar colour of the steed he had ridden throughout the day. However, a plan of avoiding the danger occurred to him, Fortunately, he possessed a couple of piebald horses, and on tirriving at Cotlieridge he sent the steed he had been riding to a distant farm, and had the other piebald horse placed in the stable and covered with body-clothes. This done, he withdrew to his chamber, and prepared to play the part of a sick man. Two hours later. Colonel GofF, with a detachment of dragoons, arrived at the old mansion and demanded to see its owner. He was told by the butler that Sir Rowland was extremely unwell and confined to his room, but the answer did not satisfy him. " Lead me to your master instantly," he said. Attended by half a dozen dragoons, he then followed the tier up-stairs, and on entering Sir Rowland's room found him K 130 boscobel; or, in a loose robe and slippers, and pi-esenting the appearance of an invalid. "What means this intrusion on mj privacy?" demanded the baronet. " You affect surprise at my appearance, Sir Rowland," rejoined Goff ; "but you can feel none. I arrest you as a traitor to the Commonwealth. You took part in the battle to-day, and fought ■with the malignants." " You are mistaken, general," was the reply. " I am far too unwell to leave my room, and utterly unable to put on arms or sit a horse." " Tut !" cried Goff, incredulously, " You were present in the fields near Powiclc, and, later on, in the fight within the city. I myself belield you on both occasions — on a piebald horse." " 'Tis true I have a horse of that colour," replied Sir Rowland, " But you will find him in the stable, and his freshness will prove that I could not have ridden him as you state. Satisfy yourself, I pray you, general. If it should appear that I have deceived you, treat me as you list." " Since you affirm this so roundly I will go see," observed Goff, somewhat staggered. " But you must not stir from this chamber." " I have not the power to leave it," said Sir Rowland, feigning extreme debilitv. Placing a guard at the door of the chamber, Goff then pro- ceeded to the stable, where he found a handsome charger, which, being stripped of its covering, proved to be piebald in colour, and exactly resembled the steed he had seen. The freshness of the horse showed that he could not have been out during the day. Astounded at the sight, Goff made no further inquiries, but returned without his prey. As a declared enemy of the Com- monwealth, however. Sir Rowland had subsequently to compound for his estate by the payment of two thousand pounds. We must now repair to the Commandery, wliither, as already related, the Duke of Hamilton was conveyed from the field of battle. His right leg had been shattered by a slug shot, and tlie injury was so severe tliat amputation of the limb was deemed absolutely necessary by the king's chirurgeon, Kincaid, who was in attendance upon him; but the duke w^ould not submit to the operation. He had passed a night of almost intolerable agony, and was lying on a couch in the room adjoining the great hall.* His countenance was livid and distorted ; and a cloak was thrown over his lower limbs. * The room in which the duke died is still intact, and a view of it, by Captain L. Archei-, has been given with an earlier portion of this story. The Com- mandery is now used as a College for the Blind Sons of Gentlemen, the Rev. Mr. Blair being the Principal. The ancient structure bears evidence of the foay, and contains many relics of the period. THE ROYAL OAK. 131 A word as to the dying hero. William, Duke of Ilatnilton, then in his thirty-fifth year, liad succeeded his elder brother, James, who was beheaded for high treason in 1649. Of the large train of distinguished personages who accompanied Charles in his march from Scotland, none was more devoted to the royal cause — none more determinately hostile to the rebellious Parliament — than the Duke of IJamilton. Though despairing of success, the duke adhered firmly to the king to the last, and that he was as brave as loyal was proved by the prodigies of valour he Dcrformed on the battle-field at Worcester. " The torture I endure is almost insupportable, Kincaid," he groaned. " I could not suffer more from the rack." " No anodyne will assuage the pain, my lord duke," replied the chirurgeon. " As I have already represented to your grace, amputation of the shattered limb is the sole means of saving your life." " I would rather die than lose the limb," groaned the duke. " 'Tis not pain I dread, but disfigurement." " The Lord General has signified his intention of sending his own surgeon, Trappam, to attend your grace. You will hear what he has to say." " I will not suffer him to come near me," said the duke, sternly. "I will accept no favour from the regicide Cromwell." As he spoke, the door communicating with the great hall was opened, and two persons came in. The foremost was Cromwell, the other was Trappam, the chirurgeon. The Lord General was armed as he had been during the battle, and wore a broad-leaved hat, which he did not remove. Marching direct towards the couch on which the wounded man was stretched, he regarded him fijcedly for a few moments, and then said, in not unkindly accents: " I am sorry to find your grace so grievously hurt. But it may be that the Lord will heal your wounds. Such aid as man can render will be afforded by my own surgeon. Master Trappam, He is very skilful, and has wrought many wondrous cures." " I thank your excellency" rejoined the duke, raising himself, "but the king's surgeon is in attendance upon me, and I lack no other aid." " Let them consult together," said Cromwell, " I would fain save your life, if I can." " Wherefore save me?" observed the duke, sternly. '*' Would you bring me to the block, as you brought the duke, my brother ?" "The duke, your brother, was justly condemned as a traitor to the Commonwealth of England," rejoined Cromwell. " Perchance, your grace may be pardoned. My intercession shall not be wanting if you are disposed to agree to certain conditions." " I know not what the conditions may be, but I reject them k2 132 BOSCOBEL ; OR, beforehand," rejoined the duke. " I will die as I liave lived, a loyal subject of the king, and an enemy of his enemies?" " Cliarles Stuart is a proscribed fugitive," said Cromwell. "Hitherto he has been king only in name; now he has not even the name of king. My messengers are upon his track, and will assuredly find the lurking-place wherein he hideth." "They will fail to take him," rejoined the duke. *' It is written that he shall escape, and return to triumph." " Where is it so written?" demanded Cromwell, scornfully. " In the book of fate." " You do not read the book aright, my lord duke. "Were I to turn over its leaves, I should soon light on one in which his death on the scaffold is recorded." " You will find no such record," rejoined the duke. ^' You have slain the king, his father, but him you shall not slay. His destiny is not in your hands." "All thinirs are in the Lord's hands," said Cromwell. "But would Heaven have vouchsafed me this crowning mercy if it had not meant ^" " That you should be king!" interrupted the duke. "Not so. Be not deceived. King you shall never be. Hitherto, the third of September has been propitious to you, but another anniversary of that day shall come, and it will prove fatal." Exhausted by the effort he had made in uttering these words, he sank backwards, and his countenance assumed the pallor of death. Thinking he was gone, Cromwell called to the surgeons, who had retired to discuss the duke's case. " While you arc conferring together, your patient has ex- pired," he cried. " 'Tis but a momentary faintness, your excellency," said Trappam. "But assuredly his grace will not live long, if he refuses to undergo the operation." " Then let him die," cried Cromwell, sternly. " He will 'scape the scaffold." And without another word he quitted the room. Continuing obstinate, the unfortunate Duke of Hamilton died of his wounds. Though he begged to be buried with his ancestors, at Hamilton, his dying wishes were disregarded, and he was interred before the high altar in Worcester Cathedral. It was long before the city recovered from the terrible punishment inflicted upon it by the exasperated Republican?. There can be no doubt that Cromwell entertained a strongly- vindictive feeling towards Worcester, for the constant attach- ment it had manilested towards Charles I. and his son. To pre- vent the possibility of any further rising, he levelled the forti- fications with the ground, destroyed the gates, and filled up the dykes. The work was done so effectually, that not a vestige is THE ROYAL OAK. 133 left of Fort Royal, while only here and there can a few remaina of the old walls be discovered. Sidbury-trato is ^one; so is the Foregate — so are almost all the memorials of the Battle. Treated like a conquered city, ravaged, partially destroyed, all its wealthy inhabitants fined, many imprisoned as well as fined, some hanged, it could not be expected that Worcester, elastic as it has ever shown itself, should immediately rise again — nor did it recover until the Restoration. Then the city became prosperous once more, and it has prospered ever since. If not so picturesque as of yore, it is much better built — at least, we are willing to think so. Most of the old timber houses and ancient editices have dis- appeared — but the Commandery is left. The noble cathedral is improved — both externally and internally. A very respectable structure of Queen Anne's time occupies the site of the old Guildhall. In short, it would be difficult to find in the whole realm a city that can vie with Worcester in cheerfulness, prosperity, or beauty of situation. Its inhabitants are as loyal as ever, and ready to fight the old battles o'er again. FlOREAT SKMPEli FIDEMS CIVITAS. CHAPTER II. HOSV THE FUGITIVE KING AND HIS COMPANIONS RODE FROM BARBOURNE BUIDGE TO WHITE LADIES. More painful feelinizs were never experienced by a monarch than were those of Charles as he fled from Worcester on the evening of the battle. All was lost. The crown he hoped to win was gone. His life was in jeopardy, and after a vain attempt to escape, he might be placed In the hands of his enemies. The cavalcade, as already mentioned, numbered about sixty persons of various ranks, but all devoted to the king, and pre- pared to defend him to the last. But it was the determination of the leaders of the party to avoid any needless encounter. Having quitted the high road to Kidderminster, they were now speeding along the lanes skirting the left bank of the Severn, under the guidance of Lord Talbot's servant, Yates, and another man named Walker. Charles did not ride at the head of the troop, but with the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl of Derby brought up the rear. None of his attendants attempted to disturb the pro- found reverie into which the unfortunate king was plunged, and so 134 BOSCOBEL; OR, engrossed was he by painful thoughts, that he scarcely seemed conscious of their presence. It was a pleasant evening, and though the sun had already set behind the Malvern Hills, the heavens were filled with rosy clouds, which were reflected on the surface of the river. The troop passed by several farm-houses, but the scared occupants only watched them at a distance. Anxious glances were occasionally cast back by the fugitives to ascertain whether they were pur- sued, but no enemy appeared in sight. By degrees the calm- ness and beauty of the evening produced a soothing effect on the king's troubled mind. What a contrast was offered between the peaceful lanes through which he was now riding and the city resounding with the din of arms, the roar of artillery, and frightful cries. Having passed Bever^ Green, and dashed through the ford of the Salwarp, at Hawford Mill, but without meeting interruption of any kind, they now pursued the Ombersley-road for some -distance, but turned off at the Mitre Oak for Hartlebury, and halted at the Old Talbot Inn, where the king drank a cup of ■sack, while his attendants refreshed themselves with such liquors as they could procure. Once more they were in motion, and a narrow by-road brought them to Hartlebury-common, then of great extent and dangerous in places, but as they could still see their way, they rode on without fear. Nothing can be pleasanter, under certain circumstances, than a gallop across a wild heath at the twilight hour; but when danger lurks on every side, when the riders are flying for life — above all, when a king's safety is at stake, the sensa- tions are not quite so agreeable. Deceived by the gathering gloom, the fugitives are apt to suspect that the foe is lying in ambush for ithem, and to turn needlessly from their course. This was the sase with the flying troop. They avoided Stourport because they fancied there was danger in that quarter, and shaped their rapid course past the dismantled manor-house of Hartlebury, which had been garrisoned by Cliarles 1. during the Civil Wars. The an- cient mansion might have afforded them shelter for the night, but they did not dare to stop there. Tliey were still on Hartlebury-common, and were soon close upon Kidderminster, but did not deem it prudent to enter the town. Skirting the valley in which it lies, and gallopiDg past Hoobrook, they proceeded by Chester-lane and Green Hill to Broadwaters. Thence up Black Hill to Sion Hill. Next traversing the beautiful woody district that now forms Lea Park, they descended a gentle acclivity that brought them to the old bridge across the Stour. Had there been light enough to distinguish it, a charming scene would have been here presented to the king's gaze. But he THE ROYAr. OAK. 135 crossed Hay Bridnre witliout lookln;^ at tlie beautifully windint^ river or at the precipitous rocks on its opposite bank, well satisfied that there was no enemy concealed amid the woods to dispute his passage. By the time the troop reached Kinver Heath it had become quite dark, and the guides declared it was impossible to cross the wild and boggy waste at that hour. Notwithstanding their representations, the king would have pushed on at all hazards, but the Earl of Derby, Charles Giffard, and Careless, who knew the heath, dissuaded him from his rash design. Lord Derby thought there would be far less danger in passing through Stourbridge, even if it should be occupied by militia, which was doubtful, than in attempting to traverse a morass in which they were almost certain to be engulfed. "There are so many quagmires in Kinver Heath, that, even in daytime, it is difficult to avoid them," observed the earl. " At night it is impossible." "I am entirely of his lordsliip's opinion," said Captain GifFard. "I know Kinver Heath well, and I implore your majesty not to risk your royal person upon it." "Are you afraid to go with me?" asked Charles. " 'Tis my dutv to prevent your majesty from rushing on certain destruction." " Nay, then, if the danger is really so great, we must proceed to Stourbridge, despite the militia." " The rascals will not be on the look-out for us, so we shall most likely escape them," remarked Careless. "Besides, if we are slain, we shall die like gentlemen. Any death is preferable to being stifled in a quagmire." " As the hour is late, I do not think the enemy will be on the alert," observed the Earl of Derby. " But no precaution must be neglected. In the event of an attack, all of us who are near your majesty will speak French, so that your presence may not be suspected." " 'Tis well," replied Charles. " You hear, my lords and gen- tlemen, we are all to become Frenchmen when we reach Stour- bridge." The party then turned towards Stourton, and once more cross- ing the Stour by the Stewponey Bridge, galloped on towards Stourbridge. When within a quarter of a mile of the town they came to a halt, and Careless and Captain GifFard were sent on to : reconnoitre. As Stourbridge at that time consisted only of one long street, it was easy to ascertain whether any soldiers were on the watch, but none could be discovered. The street was entirely deserted, all the inhabitants having, apparently, retired to rest. Perfectly satisfied with their inspection, Careless and GifFard 136 boscobel; or, returned to the royal party, and informed his majesty that he mii^ht proceed without fear. Charles did not question the in- formation he had received, but judging it safest to speed througli the town, phiced himself at the head of the troop, and galloped along the street. Roused by the clatter of the horses* hoofs, several of the inhabitants rushed to the windows, and just caught sight of the flying cavalcade. The Royalists, however, had not got far when a drum was loudly beaten "to arms," showing that Careless and GifFard had been deceived. It presently appeared tliat a company of militia ■was quartered at the further end of the town, and their steeds being ready saddled and bridled, the men mounted and formed as quickly as they could in the street to check the fugitives. But they did not succeed in their purpose. The king and his companions drew their swords, and dashed upon them with such impetuosity that they cut their way througli the phalanx, and in another minute were out of the town. These soldiers of the militia, not being so well-seasoned as Cromwell's Ironclads, were staixgered by the fierce and determined assaidt of the Cavaliers, and did not attempt pursuit. Charles and liis party, therefore, galloped on as swiftly as they could for a mile or so, when the king slackened his pace. "Is there an inn hereabouts?" asked the king. "I am despe- rately thirsty." " My liege, there is a solitary hostel between Wordsley and Kingswinford," replied GifFard. "But I know not what can be obtained at it." " A cup of cider or ale will serve iny turn now," replied Cliarles. " Tlie White Horse is not so badly provided," remarked Care- less. "Nat Coulter, tlie host, can brow as good a pottle of sack as any man in Staffordshire, but I doubt if lie can supply us all — even with ale. However, we shall see." On reacliing the White Horse the fugitive Royalists found much better entertainment than might have been expected. Nat Coulter was in bed, but he was soon roused from his slumbers, and with his wife and his two sons set heartily to work to serve his un- expected guests. He had plenty of ale and cider, with which the Cavaliers were perfectly content, but only a single runlet of canary. However, this amply sufficed for the king and the chief personages with him. As to provisions, they ran rather short, Nat Coulter's larder not being very abundantly supplied, but the hungry Royalists devoured all they could find. Tiiough Na.t and his household were known to be loyal, Charles did not discover himself to them, but spoke French, and was addressed in thai language by his attendants during his stay at the White Horse. m Q < Hi- Eh- THE ROYAL OAK. 137 Nat, however, belnp^ n slirewd fellow, afterwards declared that he had recognised tlie king. A consultation was held in tlie little parlour of the inn. Oa quitting Barbourne Bridge, Charles, as we have already stated^ had decided upon seeking a refuge in Boscobel. He had not abandoned tliis design, though during the nocturnal ride his plans- had undergone some change. It was now proposed that the king should proceed in the iirst instance to White Ladies, another secluded liouse belonging to the Gidiirds, about a mile distant from Boscobel, where arrangements could be made for his majesty's safety, and wliere he could separate from his companions. Both the Earl of Derby and Roscarrock agreed that this would be the best and safest course to pursue, and it was decided upon by his majesty. Again mounting their steeds, which had been as well cared for in the interim as circumstances permitted, they rode on at a quick pace, tracking the woodlands in the neighbourhood of Himley, and obtaining glimpses of the extensive lake. No furnnces at that time bursting from the gror.nd marred the sylvan beauty of the scene. After ptissing Wombourn, the troop plunged into Brewood Forest, and were soon buried in its depths, (juided through the intricacies of tlie wood by Charles Giffard, who was now in his- own domain, and knew every roadway, they at last reached" a little valley entirely surrounded by timber, in the midst of Avhich stood an old-fashioned black and white timber mansion. Closely adjoining this ancient house, and ahnost appearing to form part of it, were the ivy-clad ruins of a monastery. Day was just breaking at the time, and the picture presented to the king, and seen by ihe grey light of dawn, was inexpressibly striking. "That is White Ladies, sire," said Charles Giffard. "There your majesty will find shelter." CHAPTER III. THE PENDERELS. In Brewood Forest, which Avas situated on the boundaries of Shropshire and StafTurdshire, and extended into both counties, two- large monasteries had existed — one being a Cistercian priory, and the other Benedictine. It was from the ruined Cistercian priory^ which had been founded by Hubert Walter, Archbishop of Canterbury, in the time of Richard Cceur-de-Lion, that tlie old 138 BOSCOBEL ; OR, mansion in which the fugitive king was about to take shelter derived its name. The house dated back to the period when the monastery was suppressed. It has now disappeared, but the ruins of the priory are left, and consist of a massive wall and a few circular-headed windows. A doorway, with a fine Norman arch, leads to what was once the chapel, but is now a small place of sepulture. Viewed in connexion with the old mansion, the ruins of the monastery produced a singularly beautiful effect — the strangely- secluded situation of the house adding to its charm. It seemed as though it were hidden from a world of strife and care, and as if none of the dire calauiities of war, which those now gazing at it had so recently experienced, could disturb it. Fain would the w(?ary Cavaliers who gazed at the peaceful old house have rested there. But rest, as thev well knew, was not for them. Their toil- some and perilous journey was not yet over. With some of them the road they were about to take led to the scaffold. White Ladies and the monastic ruins adjoining it were sur- rounded by a low wall, in the midst of which was an old gateway of the same date as the house. Around, as we have said, on every side, were woods, and it was these thick gioves that gave to the place the peculiar air of seclusion that characterised it. Praying the kinj; to allow him to go forward, Captain Giffard rode towards the gateway, which was fastened, but he had not reached it, when a tall stalwart individual, clad in a leuthern doublet, and having a woodman's knife stuck in his girdle, strode towards the garden wall. Charles watched this sturdy fellow as he advanced, and was very favourably impressed by his manly ■countenance. The forester — for such he seemed — was armed with a wood-bill, which he had snatched up on perceiving the troop, but being quickly reassured on finding his young master with them, he flung down his weapon. After exchanging a few words with him, Captain Giffard bade the forester open the gate, and returned to the king. "That's an honest fellow, I'll be sworn," observed Charles, ^' and as brave as honest. He looked just now as if he would strike down the first man who attempted to enter." " And so he would, ray liege, had we been rebels and Roundheads," replied Giffard. " George Penderel has been a soldier^ and served in your royal father's army at Edgehill, •where his brother, Tom Penderel, was killed. He is now a woodward, as are all his brothers, except Humphrey, the miller of Boscobel." "If they are all like George, they must be a gallant set," remarked Charles. "Are there many of them?" "Five living," remarked Giffard. "And George is a fair THE ROYAL OAK. 139 sample of the rest. They are all true men, stout of heart and strong of limb, as if made of their native oak. Above all, they are loyal to the core. It is to their care," he added, lowering hia voice, " that I propose to confide your majesty. Lord Derby and Colonel Roscarrock will give you an assurance of their fidelity." " They have already done so," replied Charles. " What ho ! George Penderel," he exclaimed. Hearing himself called, the stalwart forester, who had been standing near the open gate, instantly came forward, but on approaching the king, he stopped and doffed his cap. " You know me, 1 perceive, George," said the king. " I have never set eyes on your majesty before," rejoined the forester, " but I should know that royal countenance among a thousand." " I hope some others who may chance to see me in tliese parts may not be gifted with thy discernment, honest George," replied Charles. " You have served the king, my father — now you must serve me." " In the field, sire?" cried George, eagerly. '* Alack ! my good fellow, I have no lonL^er an army," remarked the king sadly. " These are all the followers left me — and I must, perforce, part with them." " But I will never leave your majesty unless you bid me," rejoined George. " You have four brothers, ha ?** " All as trusty as myself. Your majesty will be safe with us. All the wealth of the kingdom should not tempt us to betray vou." " Enough," replied the king, dismounting — his bridle being held by George Penderel. The principal personages composing the royal retinue dismounted at the same time, and followed his majestv into the house. By the direction of Captain Giffard all the horses were then taken into the interior of the ruined monastery, with the exception of the king's steed, which was brought by George Penderel into the hall. A search was next instituted for provisions, and in this quest Careless played a conspicuous part. Repairing to the kitchen, he there found Dame Penderel and a servant-maid, and the fire being fortunately lighted, he soon sent a large dish of fried eggs and bacon to the king, which was greatly enjoyed bv his majesty and the nobles with him. Nor while he provided so well for the wants of others did the thoughtful major neglect his own, but contrived to make a very hearty breakfast in the kitchen. It must not be supposed that the rest of the troop, who were now in the ruined priory chapel, fared so well. Bread, biscuits, oat- cakes, and cheese were distributed among them, and they had plenty of sack. 140 BOSCOBEI. ; OH, Meanwhile, Captain Giffiird, wlio was all anxiety to make arrangements for the king's safety, had sent for Richard Penderel — commonly known as "Trusty Dick" — who dwelt at a cottage in the forest, called Hobbal Grange. William Penderel, the eldest brother, who resided at Boscobel, which was about a mile distant from White Ladies, had likewise been sent for by the Earl of Derby. Trusty Dick was first to arrive, and Charles was as well pleased with his looks as he had been with those of the younger brother. William was powerfully built, and quite as tall as George. " His majesty has resolved to disguise himself, Dick," said Captain Giffard. "What sort of attire ought he to put on?" " If his majesty will condescend to wear a suit of my clothes," said Richard Penderel, " I'll engage that not a rebel trooper among them all will recognise him. My best jerkin, leather doublet and green trunk hose, will just fit you, sire, and I haven't worn them more than once or twice." " The disguise will suit me exactly," cried Charles. " I will become a Brewood forester like tliyself. We are about the same heifjht, as I tliink, thout;h thou hast the advantae to see that happy day I doubt — nay, I am well assured I shall not — but it will come nevertheless." " Look forward to it, my lord — look forward to our next meeting 1" cried Charles. " We shall meet in lieaven, I trust, sire — not on earth," replied the earl, solemnly. "I bid your majesty an eternal farewell." Charles did not attempt to reply, for he was strongly impressed by the carl's manner, and Lord Derby quitted the room. The chivalrous but ill-fated peer's presentiments were unfor- tunately realised. Immediately after taking leave of the king, as described, all the nobles, with the exception of Lord Wilmot, who had engaged the services of John Penderel, the second brother, quitted White Ladies, taking with them the whole troop of Cavaliers, and proceeded, under the guidance of Charles Giflard, to the heath near Tonge Castle, where they expected to find Leslie and his cavalry. But the Scottish general was gone, and was marching northwards, as they learnt, by way of Newport, so they took the same direction. They had not, however, ridden many miles when they were overtaken by Lord Leviston and a few of the royal life guards who had fouglit at Worcester. Lord Leviston and his handful of men were flying before a strong detachment of horse, com- manded by Colonel James, and on seeing his lordship's danger, the Earl of Derby and the other nobles at once faced about, and attacking the Roundheads with great fury, drove them back. This success greatly raised their spirits, but it was quickly followed by a reverse. Just beyond Newport, they were encountered by Colonel Lilburn, while Colonel James, having received con- siderable reinforcements, followed and attacked in the rear. Leslie's cavalry was completely routed and dispersed. Lord Derby, Lord Lauderdale, Lord Sinclair, and the faithless Scottish leader, were captured, and conveyed first to Whitchurch, and next to Banbury in Cheshire. Subsequently, the ill-fated Earl of Derby was removed to Chester, and imprisoned in the castle, there to await his trial for high treason. Charles Gifiard was likewise taken prisoner at the conflict near Newport, but contrived to escape at Banbury. But we are anticipating the course of events, and must return to the fugitive monarch at White Ladies. Careless had witnessed the departure of the devoted band with feelings akin to self- reproach for not going with them, when on returning to the house, he found Richard Penderel with the suit of clothes intended for the king's disguise, and immediately took them to his majesty. That nothing should be wanting. Trusty Dick had brought a 146 BOSCOBEL; OR, coarse shirt and a woodman's cap with the garments, and in a few minutes Charles had taken off his rich apparel, and put on the sturdy forester's habiUments. His buff coat and broadsword- belt were replaced by a leathern doublet, and jerkin of green cloth, while common country hose were drawn above his knees, and heavy hob-nailed shoes had succeeded his riding-boots. As soon as the change was effected, William and Richard Penderel were introduced by Careless, and were astonished by the alteration in the king's appearance. Both averred that his majesty looked just like one of themselves, and would impose on the most suspicious rebel. A clever mimic, Charles tried, and not unsuccessfully, to imitate Trusty Dick's gait and manner. The elder Penderel could not repress a smile as he regarded him. The sole objection urged by those who scrutinised the newly-made forester's ap- pearance was that his hands were too white, but this was quickly remedied by a little charcoal dust. His complexion was dark enough, being as brown as that of a gipsy. *' Your majesty must be careful not to answer if you are spoken to by any of the common folk, since you have not the accent of the country," observed William Penderel. "Fear nothing. I shall easily acquire it," replied Charles. "Is Lord Wilmot gone?" he inquired. *'Ay, my liege," was the reply. ''He left the house imme- diately after the departure of the troop. My brother John went with him, and intended to take him to Mr. Huntbach's house at Brinsford, where he will stay till some other hiding-place can be found. Any message your majesty may desire to send can be readily conveyed to him by John." " And now, sire, since you are fully disguised," said Careless, "I counsel you not to remain here a moment longer. 'Tis pos- sible the house may be surrounded, and then you will be unable to escape." *' Whither do you propose to take me ?" asked Charles of the Penderels. ** It will be best that your majesty should remain in the forest during the day, in case an immediate search should be made at Boscobel," replied William Penderel. " We will hide you in a thick part of the wood, about half a mile hence, called Spring Coppice, where no one will be likely to search for you." " I know Spring Coppice well," said Careless. " If your majesty should hear a whistle, you will understand it is a signal from me, and need not be alarmed. Though unseen, I shall not be far off." He then took leave of the king, and quitted the house. No sooner was Charles gone than all traces of his visit were removed by George Penderel and his wife. THE ROYAL OAK. 147 His majesty's habiliments were carefully wrapped up and de- posited in an old chest, as were his feathered hat and boots, while his shorn locks were preserved like relics. CHAPTER V. HO"W CHAKLES 'WAS CONCEALED IN SPUING COPPICE, AND HOW IT RAINED THERE, AND NOWHERE ELSE IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. On quitting the house, Charles and his two stalwart attendants entered the ruins of the old priory, where Trusty Dick, by the aid of the ivy, climbed the massive wall, and looked around to satisfy himself that all was secure. Not perceiving anything to occasion alarm, he soon descended from his post of observation, and the party left the ruins and entered the wood at the rear of the house. Pursuing a roadway among the trees, they marched on at a quick pace. On either side there was a good deal of fine timber, and several ancient oaks caught the king's eye as he strode along. Presently they came upon a broad clearing, where the underwood having been removed, only a few scattered trees were left, and having crossed it, they penetrated a wilderness of brambles and thorns, through which Charles could never have made his way unassisted, and this rough barrier passed, they reached a waste overgrown with short wood, which was cut at certain seasons for fuel. This was Spring Coppice, and just beyond it were the shady groves of Boscobel. Though there were few large trees in Spring Coppice, there was a good deal of tangled underwood, and a thick covert afforded an excellent place of concealment. It was towards this spot that his guides now led the king. While the covert was almost impenetrable to those unacquainted with it, there was an outlet to the Boscobel woods, which could be easily gained in case of need. In the very heart of the covert, like the centre of a maze, there was a small open space, free from underwood, and covered with a carpet of smooth sward. Here it was proposed that the king should remain, while his two guides undertook to act as scouts and sentinels, and warn him of any danger. Having shown his majesty how to hide himself amid the underwood, and how to gain the outlet into the adjoining thicket, theyl^t him, promising that one of them would return ere long. Almost for the first time in his life, Charles was now completely alone. Yesterday, at the same hour, he was a king, and had an army at his command. Now he was dependent for his safety upon l2 148 boscobel; or, a few loyal rustics. Not for a moment did he doubt tlieir fidelity, or believe that threats of punit'hinent or offers of reward would induce them to betray him. Yet accident might bring his enemies to his place of concealment. In that case he was resolved to sell his life dearly, though the only weapon he possessed was the woodman's knife in his girdle. He strove to divert his melancholy thoughts and while away the time by pacing round and round the little circular spot in which he was enclosed. But he soon got tired of this enforced exercise, and threw himself at full length on tlie sward. How he wished that Careless was with him, or Lord Wihnot! To add to his discomfort, the morning, which had been dark and dull, became still more gloomy ; clouds gathered overhead, and at length discharged themselves in a steady down-pour. He sought shelter among the trees, but could not protect himself entirely from the wet. The rain continued — heavily, heavily. Several hours passed, which seemed more wearisome, more dismal than any hours the king had ever previously spent. During the long and dreary interval no one came near him, nor did any sounds reach his ear, except the ceaseless pattering of the rain upon the leaves. Now and then he heai'd the rustle of a rabbit among the underwood, the cry of a blackbird, or the challenge of a cock pheasant. Nothing else. No whistle from Careless — no- signal from the Penderels. Having now no watch he could not tell how time was passing, but he thought it much later than it really was. At last he heard sounds of some one approaching, and a voice, which he easily recognised as that of Richard Penderel, called out " A friend !" Trusty Dick was accompanied by his sister, who was married to a woodman named Yates, and the good wife carried a basket containing some eatables and a bottle of sack, the sight of which greatly rejoiced the king, who had become ravenously hungry. Trusty Dick had brought with him a blanket, which he laid upon the ground beneath a tree, so as to form a dry seat for his majesty, while Elizabeth Yates spread the contents of her basket before him„ diaries was so hun