CHAPTER VI.
OF THE KING'S GOING TO WORCESTER.
My father was well remembered by some of the older sort about theKing's person, as also by the Prince Rupert, elder son of the PrincessElizabeth, and so nephew to the King, who, when he was a child, hadgreatly favoured him. Hence, without any delay, he obtained thecommission of a captain of horse. Indeed, being a man of capacity andof some experience in military matters, while most of the King'sofficers were wholly raw and uninstructed in the art of war, he hadmore weight in council than of right belonged to his rank; nor do Idoubt but that, had it not pleased God to order things otherwise, hewould have been promoted to a principal command. Indeed he had, verysoon after his first joining the army, the chief direction of hisregiment, the colonel being a young gentleman of quality, that hadnone of the virtues belonging to a soldier save courage only, unlessit is to be counted as a virtue that he knew his own ignorance, andgave a ready ear to the counsel of wiser men.
For myself, I gave my attention to things academical, and was adiligent student, exercising an industry which, I make bold to say,few others in the University excelled. This, it must be confessed, wasnot altogether of my own free choice; but my father would have it so."Stick to your books," he would say, "son Philip, so long as you can.Thus for the present time you will serve your cause most effectually.If the need come for your hand, I shall not spare to call you; butremember that it is easier to take up the sword than to lay it down."Nevertheless, with my father's consent; that I might be ready for suchoccasion when soever it might come, I learnt my exercises, both as afoot-soldier and a trooper. (I had learnt to ride while yet a child,perfecting myself in the art during my long compelled absence fromschool in the time of the plague.) I had, through the bounty of myfather, arms of my own, namely, a steel cap, a back and breast-pieceand a pike, with the other appurtenances. We trained commonly in thequadrangle of New College, the warden whereof, Dr. Robert Pink, deputyvice-chancellor, was a zealous King's man. There was a school kept inthe cloisters of New College, wherein were taught first the singingboys of the chapel (with which scarce any other in England can becompared), and also other youth of the town. And I remember what adothe ushers had with the lads on the training days. There was noholding them in their school on these occasions; neither tasks nor theterror of the lash could hinder them from seeing and following thesoldiers.
As this year (1644) went on, it was more and more manifest that theKing was in a great strait. My father would have it that he was illserved by his advisers, especially in their continual changing oftheir plans, which, when they had settled them after long and painfuldebate, they would often unsettle without sufficient cause. I have,indeed, heard him say, "If his Majesty would but trust his ownjudgment, which is indeed better than can be found in many of themthat pretend to be his advisers, and having once come by a resolutionwould carry it out determinately, 'twould be well for him and for hiskingdom." Whatever the cause, it came to pass that in the month of Maythe King's affairs were in such ill case that he was like to bebesieged in Oxford. The forces that he had with him were scarce athird part as numerous as those that the Parliament had arrayedagainst him; nor could he look for any present help from elsewhere,Prince Rupert being on his march to relieve my Lord Derby (besieged inhis castle of Lathom), and Prince Maurice having sat down before Lymein the county of Dorset, a little fisher-town which he was not like totake, and which, if taken, had been but of small account. The Kingtherefore had to retire his troops from Reading. Abingdon also, whichis not more than five miles from Oxford, was abandoned, though thiswas against the King's desire and even command expressly given; sothat all Berkshire now was in the hands of Parliament by their twocommanders, the Earl of Essex and Sir William Waller, and the King wasforced to draw his whole force of horse and foot on the north side ofOxford; nay more, the Parliament came into Oxfordshire, my Lord Essexgetting over the Thames at Sandford Ferry (which is three miles awayfrom Oxford), and halting on Bullingdon Green, whence he sent partiesof horse up to the very gates of the city. This was on thetwenty-ninth day of May. Meanwhile Sir William Waller also had crossedthe Thames and was come as far as Eynsham, where he lay at my father'shouse, but did no damage, but was, on the contrary, cause of no smallprofit to John Vickers, and so through him to my father; the said Johnselling to him and his company poultry and eggs and the like at such aprice as did, in a way, avenge the King's wrongs. Now, therefore, theKing was well nigh surrounded, for some of my Lord Essex's horse hadgone forward as far as Woodstock, so that there was but one vacantspace left in the circle which the enemy had not yet occupied, to wit,between Eynsham and Woodstock, and this space was of not more than sixmiles.
So desperate indeed was the situation of affairs that there were manynow who counselled the King that he should give himself up to the Earlof Essex, to which advice he gave this answer, as my father told mewho heard the very words as they came from his mouth. "'Tis possible Ishall be found in the hands of the Earl of Essex, but I shall be deadfirst."
_Friar Bacon's House._]
On the third day of June, at eleven of the clock in the forenoon, as Isat in my chamber, comes my father to me. I was reading, I remember,in the twenty-seventh book of the Histories of Livy of how the ConsulLivius made a sudden march to join forces with his colleague againstHasdrubal, then threatening to combine his army with Hannibal's to thegreat danger of the commonwealth of Rome. My father had a morecheerful look than I had seen in him since my coming home. Indeed, hewas one of them to whom the bare prospect of danger is a singulargreat delight, so that the whistling of a bullet near to him wouldrouse him as a draught of wine does other men, and would change hisordinary mood, which was somewhat grave and reserved, to a mostuncommon gaiety and mirth. Says he, "Son Philip, I see you are set topull down Friar Bacon's house about your ears.[3] Nevertheless, putaway your books, if you have a mind for a ride to-night. My colonel issick of a fever, which he contracted, I take it, from toasting theKing too zealously last night at St. John's College, where they drinkperilously deep. 'Tis not a serious ailment, but it hinders him at thepresent time from the saddle; and by the King's special word I am tohave command of the regiment. Further, the King said, 'Thou wilt needsome one to carry messages and the like, a young man of courage anddiscretion, and a bold rider. Dost know of such a one?' Then Isaid--let it not turn your head to hear such good opinions ofyourself--'Sire, I have a son who would do his utmost to please yourMajesty.' Then he would know who you were; but when he heard that youwere a scholar, his face clouded somewhat, and he said, 'A scholar isbest at his books. 'Tis not the least evil of this most unhappy warthat it has changed this seat of learning into a barrack of soldiers.Where shall I find preachers and counsellors if I turn my scholarsinto troopers?' But when I told his Majesty that you were diligent atyour books, he said, 'Well, if the lad will take this ride as aholiday and return hereafter to his books, it shall be as you wish.Will you answer for him?' And when I said that I would it was settledthat you should come. But mind, son Philip, that you do not falsify myword. And now I will have a word with Master Hood, your Rector, forthe King has promised that you shall have dispensation for the rest ofyour term if perchance you have not kept it." And, indeed, I had keptbut half of Trinity term, which begins on the Wednesday after WhitSunday. The Rector made no hindrance, being always amenable to themthat are in authority. Only he would not give me permission to beabsent under his hand, which my father would gladly have had. "'Tis noneed," he said; but I do suspect that he would not do aught that mightbe used in evidence against him. He is a good man, of wise carriageand conduct, and learning sufficient for his place; but 'tis cardinaldoctrine with him that he must be Rector of Lincoln College. 'Tis notaltogether ill with the world, he thinks, so long as that be so.Hitherto he has kept his profits and dignities while many have lostthem, as I shall show hereafter; and if, to speak profanely, Fortuneshall give another turn to her wheel, and the King have his own again,I doubt not we shall find Master Hood[4] at the top in as good c
ase asever.
[3] The tradition was that the house would fall when a more learned man than the Friar should pass beneath it.
[4] Paul Hood held the Rectorship of Lincoln College from 1620 to 1668, and therefore outlasted the change from King to Parliament, and from Parliament again to King. No other head of a house was equally compliant or equally long lived.
King Charles the First.]
My father had, with no small difficulty, bespoken a horse for me, andwhen I had settled my small affairs at College, I went down to WilliamBarnes his stables in S. Aldate's so as to make acquaintance with him.The first sight of him dashed me somewhat. He was, I thought, oversmall for me, having not more than thirteen hands in height, while mystature exceeded six feet by three inches and more. But his colourtroubled me more than his littleness, for he was of the spotted kind,such as they commonly use in shows. William Barnes perceived that Iwas ill at ease, and would comfort me. "Nay, Master," he said, "'tisan excellent beast for all his queer look. A good horse is ever of agood colour, say I; and as for strength it does not always go withbigness. I warrant he would carry three of you, if his back were longenough. And if your legs be over long, you must shorten yourstirrups." Nor, indeed, were his commendations ill bestowed. It mustbe confessed that there was much laughter when I was first seen on hisback, and laughter is sometimes almost as ill to bear as blows. But henever failed me in any need. He never flinched at the noise of thecannons--no, not when he heard it for the first time, whereas therewere, I noted, many horses that could never be trusted, but that theywould carry their riders clean off the field, to their no smalldiscredit, or straight into the enemy, to their no small danger. ButSpot--for so I called the good beast--was ever steady and obedient tothe rein, and if provender were short he was content to wait, nor yetfailed in strength, however long the day's work might be. Poor Spot,he is with many another on Naseby Field. I am not ashamed to confessthat though I had, God knows, other and heavier griefs that day, Ished tears to think I should see him no more. But I must return to thetime of which I am now speaking.
_A Halt of Officers._ _HANHART LITH._]
Though my father had been secret as to the purpose of the ride, as henamed it, to which he called me, I had little doubt what this mightbe. Yet was I somewhat mistaken. For thinking that the King wasintending to go forth from Oxford, where, as I have said, he was nearto being surrounded, to some part where he might have freer action,and to do this with a small company of followers, I found, coming downto the north gate, which I did about half-past eight on the evening,that there was a whole army assembled. There were, as I did afterwardsdiscover, about 6,000 men, of whom the greater part were horse. Thehorse were drawn up in a very fair array in Port Meadow, which hadbeen conveniently chosen for this purpose, as lying low and so beingout of sight of the enemy. The foot soldiers, marching down the lanethat runs by Aristotle's Well, there joined them; and so, about nineof the clock, when it was now beginning to grow dark, we set off, thehorse, whereof my father's regiment was the foremost, being in front,and the footmen following after with as much haste as they might. And,indeed, besides that all were picked men, 'twas not a march in whichany would desire to linger, so great was the danger lest the enemy'sforces, being much more numerous, should close upon us. These, as Ihave before said, were on either side of us, but on the presentoccasion the army of Lord Essex was the more to be dreaded, seeingthat it had pushed forward its outposts so far as Woodstock town,whereas we, marching by Picksey and Oxsey Mead, and over Worton Heath,skirted the very walls of Woodstock Park. Our chief care wasconcerning a certain bridge over the Evenlode River that is hard bythe village of Long Hanborough, whether it were held by the enemy orno. For if it was so held we should have to fight for it, and if wefought it would be small odds whether we got the better or the worse,for we could scarce hope, being checked upon our way, to outstrip ourpursuers. About midnight there was a consultation held among theleaders, whereof the outcome was this, that my father with two hundredhorsemen, each carrying a musqueteer behind him, rode forward with asmuch speed as they could command, being specially chosen for theircourage and for the strength and quickness of their horses. It waspurposed that these should occupy and hold the bridge at Hanborough.With these I rode, and when we were come to the bridge, and by God'sprovidence found it vacant, says my father to me, "Son Philip, rideback to the army with all the speed you can, and tell the good news tothe King." So I rode, putting spurs to my horse, though indeed thegood beast needed not spur nor whip; and when I arrived at the army Ifound the King, with whom was the whole inception and conduct of theaffair from the beginning to the end, had ridden to the front. Andwhen he saw me, careful and troubled as he was about the matter, hehad much ado to keep from laughter, so strange a figure did we show.But when he heard my news, he said, "This is excellent good tidings;never came more welcome Mercury than thou. And that need be amarvellous good beast of thine, be his looks what they may, for theeto have gone and returned so speedily. But spare him now, and followquietly."
There is no need to write of this march at length, though indeed itwas marvellously well conceived and executed. Let it suffice then tosay so much as follows. We proceeded without halt till the afternoon,when we came to Burford, which is distant from Oxford about sixteenmiles. There we refreshed ourselves awhile, and his Majesty was sograciously disposed that he would have my father and me to sup withhim and the great lords that were about his person. After supper hetalked with my father awhile about military affairs, asking hisopinion in the most courteous fashion; and he had also a few wordswith me about my books, not forgetting to warn me that I must notneglect them for any pleasures or excitements of war. About nine ofthe clock the King, desiring to put as much space as might be betweenhimself and his pursuers, gave command to march, which was performed,but not without some murmuring. And, indeed, it was a laborious march,for though our way for the most part lay along the valley, yet at thelast, it being little short of midnight, we made a steep ascent, andso having mounted the height with no small pains, descended the samewith no less to Bourton-on-the-Water. Here we rested for the night,keeping under such shelter as we could find, or, the greater part ofus, under none at all. We had marched, I take it, not less than thirtymiles, which is no small achievement, especially for an army that hadbeen for many months past in garrison. The next day betimes we setforth again, the King intending at the first to halt at Evesham, butafter hearing that General Waller was in pursuit, and that crossingthe Avon at Stratford might so cut him off from Worcester, to whichplace he was bound, changed his purpose and went on without halt toWorcester. And here I must record a marvellous deliverance frominstant danger that befell me on my way. 'Twas at Pershore inWorcestershire, where there is a bridge over the Avon. This the Kingcommanded should be broken down, and gave commandment accordingly tothe officer that had the charge of such matters. But he being eithernew to his business, or overhasty to finish the matter, lest the enemyshould perchance come up and find it undone, set fire to the gunpowderwherewith it was to be destroyed, before the due time. By thismisadventure Major Bridges, a very skilful and courageous man, waskilled, and with him also three other officers and about twenty commonsoldiers. I myself was like to have perished with these, being throwninto the river, by the falling of the bridge. But being somewhatbefore the others I escaped, for whereas they were done to death bythe force of the explosion, I did but lose my footing and fall intothe river. And here again my good steed showed how excellent a beasthe was, for he swam most bravely against the stream, and in the endlanded me on the bank, being not much the worse, save for the wetting.From Evesham the King rode to Worcester, where the townsfolk receivedhim with much rejoicing.
With the King at Oxford: A Tale of the Great Rebellion Page 7