CHAPTER I.
HOW CROMWELL VISITED THE DYING DUKE OF HAMILTON AT THE COMMANDERY; ANDWHAT PASSED BETWEEN THEM.
On the morn after the battle, there was weeping and wailing inWorcester, for those lying slaughtered in the houses and streets.Everywhere heart-rending scenes occurred, but they excited no pity inthe breasts of the savage foe. Believing they had performed a workof righteous vengeance, the stern sectaries felt no compunction forwhat they had done. The city had been delivered to them. They hadplundered the houses, slain all who opposed them, committed everypossible atrocity, and were now searching for the malignants, who hadsought refuge in cellars and other secret places. Many prisoners ofimportance were thus made. Among those placed under the custody of themarshal-general, and subsequently sent to the Tower, were the Earls ofCleveland, Rothes, and Kelly, with the Lords Sinclair and Grandison,General Massey, and the valiant Pitscottie. Some were too severelywounded to be moved. Sir James Hamilton, Sir Alexander Forbes, Sir JohnDouglas, and General Montgomery were dangerously hurt--while the Dukeof Hamilton was lying at the Commandery, mortally wounded. Fanshawe,the king's private secretary, was captured, and treated with especialfavour by Cromwell, who was desirous of winning him over, but herejected the Lord General's overtures. The mayor and the sheriff werecommitted to custody and ordered to be tried at Chester. A vast numberof other prisoners were made, whom it is needless to particularise.
PLAN OF WORCESTER IN 1651.]
But Cromwell had lost his chief prize. For some hours it wassupposed--chiefly on Colonel James's representation--that the king wasconcealed within the city, and every precaution was taken to preventhis escape. But before morning assured intelligence was brought tothe Lord General that Charles Stuart had unquestionably fled towardsthe north, accompanied by the Duke of Buckingham, the Earls of Derbyand Lauderdale, and several others, and that Leslie, with his Scottishcavalry, had taken the same direction.
On receiving these tidings, Cromwell gave immediate orders thatLilburn, Fleetwood, and Harrison, each with a regiment of horse,should start in pursuit of the Royalist leaders. At the same timehe especially enjoined Colonel James to follow on Charles Stuart'strack, in case the Young Man should separate himself--as was notunlikely--from his attendants.
A Proclamation was likewise issued, promising a reward of OneThousand Pounds to any one who should discover the person of CharlesStuart--while the penalty of high treason was declared against allthose who should harbour or conceal him. Copies of this Proclamationwere forthwith despatched by swift messengers to all towns near whichit was deemed likely the fugitive monarch would pass.
Colonel James, with a detachment of horse, started at once forStourport, while the three Republican generals, previously mentioned,prepared to follow the retreating Scottish cavalry. The companies ofmilitia stationed at the various towns were ordered to keep strictwatch, and arrest all fugitive soldiers and malignants. Moreover, theywere enjoined to search the houses of all declared Royalists.
Several country gentlemen, resident in the neighbourhood of Worcester,and suspected of taking part in the conflict, were arrested on thenight of the battle. Sir Rowland Berkeley had a narrow escape. Ontaking leave of Charles at Barbourne Bridge, as previously related,the brave Royalist turned towards his old mansion, Cotheridge, ina very dejected frame of mind. Not merely was he anxious for theking's safety, but for his own. He felt that his peril was materiallyincreased by the peculiar colour of the steed he had ridden throughoutthe day.
However, a plan of avoiding the danger occurred to him. Fortunately, hepossessed a couple of piebald horses, and on arriving at Cotheridge hesent the steed he had been riding to a distant farm, and had the otherpiebald horse placed in the stable and covered with body-clothes. Thisdone, he withdrew to his chamber, and prepared to play the part of asick man.
Two hours later, Colonel Goff, with a detachment of dragoons, arrivedat the old mansion and demanded to see its owner. He was told by thebutler 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 butlerup-stairs, and on entering Sir Rowland's room found him in a looserobe and slippers, and presenting the appearance of an invalid.
"What means this intrusion on my 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 toleave my room, and utterly unable to put on arms or sit a horse."
"Tut!" cried Goff, incredulously. "You were present in the fields nearPowick, and, later on, in the fight within the city. I myself beheldyou on both occasions--on a piebald horse."
"'Tis true I have a horse of that colour," replied Sir Rowland. "Butyou will find him in the stable, and his freshness will prove that Icould 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 youlist."
"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 extremedebility.
Placing a guard at the door of the chamber, Goff then proceeded to thestable, where he found a handsome charger, which, being stripped ofits covering, proved to be piebald in colour, and exactly resembledthe steed he had seen. The freshness of the horse showed that he couldnot have been out during the day. Astounded at the sight, Goff made nofurther inquiries, but returned without his prey. As a declared enemyof the Commonwealth, however, Sir Rowland had subsequently to compoundfor his estate by the payment of two thousand pounds.
We must now repair to the Commandery, whither, as already related, theDuke of Hamilton was conveyed from the field of battle. His right leghad been shattered by a slug shot, and the injury was so severe thatamputation of the limb was deemed absolutely necessary by the king'schirurgeon, Kincaid, who was in attendance upon him; but the dukewould not submit to the operation. He had passed a night of almostintolerable agony, and was lying on a couch in the room adjoining thegreat hall.[7] His countenance was livid and distorted; and a cloak wasthrown over his lower limbs.
A word as to the dying hero. William, Duke of Hamilton, then in histhirty-fifth year, had succeeded his elder brother, James, who wasbeheaded for high treason in 1649. Of the large train of distinguishedpersonages who accompanied Charles in his march from Scotland, none wasmore devoted to the royal cause--none more determinately hostile to therebellious Parliament--than the Duke of Hamilton. Though despairingof success, the duke adhered firmly to the king to the last, and thathe was as brave as loyal was proved by the prodigies of valour heperformed on the battle-field at Worcester.
"The torture I endure is almost insupportable, Kincaid," he groaned. "Icould not suffer more from the rack."
"No anodyne will assuage the pain, my lord duke," replied thechirurgeon. "As I have already represented to your grace, amputation ofthe shattered limb is the sole means of saving your life."
"I would rather die than lose the limb," groaned the duke. "'Tis notpain I dread, but disfigurement."
"The Lord General has signified his intention of sending his ownsurgeon, Trappam, to attend your grace. You will hear what he has tosay."
"I will not suffer him to come near me," said the duke, sternly. "Iwill accept no favour from the regicide Cromwell."
As he spoke, the door communicating with the great hall was opened, andtwo persons came in. The foremost was Cromwell, the other was Trappam,the chirurgeon. The Lord General was armed as he had been during thebattle, and wore a broad-leaved hat, which he did not remove. Marchingdirect towards the couch on which the wounded man was stretched, heregarded him fixedly for a few moments, and then said, in not unkindlyaccents:
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br /> "I am sorry to find your grace so grievously hurt. But it may be thatthe Lord will heal your wounds. Such aid as man can render will beafforded by my own surgeon, Master Trappam. He is very skilful, and haswrought many wondrous cures."
"I thank your excellency," rejoined the duke, raising himself, "but theking's surgeon is in attendance upon me, and I lack no other aid."
"Let them consult together," said Cromwell, "I would fain save yourlife, if I can."
"Wherefore save me?" observed the duke, sternly. "Would you bring me tothe block, as you brought the duke, my brother?"
"The duke, your brother, was justly condemned as a traitor to theCommonwealth of England," rejoined Cromwell. "Perchance, your grace maybe pardoned. My intercession shall not be wanting if you are disposedto agree to certain conditions."
"I know not what the conditions may be, but I reject them beforehand,"rejoined the duke. "I will die as I have lived, a loyal subject of theking, and an enemy of his enemies!"
"Charles Stuart is a proscribed fugitive," said Cromwell. "Hithertohe has been king only in name; now he has not even the name ofking. My messengers are upon his track, and will assuredly find thelurking-place wherein he hideth."
"They will fail to take him," rejoined the duke. "It is written that heshall 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 itsleaves, I should soon light on one in which his death on the scaffoldis recorded."
"You will find no such record," rejoined the duke. "You have slain theking, his father, but him you shall not slay. His destiny is not inyour hands."
"All things are in the Lord's hands," said Cromwell. "But would Heavenhave vouchsafed me this crowning mercy if it had not meant----"
"That you should be king!" interrupted the duke. "Not so. Be notdeceived. King you shall never be. Hitherto, the third of September hasbeen 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 sankbackwards, and his countenance assumed the pallor of death.
Thinking he was gone, Cromwell called to the surgeons, who had retiredto discuss the duke's case.
"While you are conferring together, your patient has expired," he cried.
"'Tis but a momentary faintness, your excellency," said Trappam. "Butassuredly his grace will not live long, if he refuses to undergo theoperation."
"Then let him die," cried Cromwell, sternly. "He will 'scape thescaffold." And without another word he quitted the room.
Continuing obstinate, the unfortunate Duke of Hamilton died of hiswounds. Though he begged to be buried with his ancestors, at Hamilton,his dying wishes were disregarded, and he was interred before the highaltar in Worcester Cathedral.
It was long before the city recovered from the terrible punishmentinflicted upon it by the exasperated Republicans. There can be nodoubt that Cromwell entertained a strongly vindictive feeling towardsWorcester, for the constant attachment it had manifested towardsCharles I. and his son. To prevent the possibility of any furtherrising, he levelled the fortifications with the ground, destroyed thegates, and filled up the dykes. The work was done so effectually, thatnot a vestige is left of Fort Royal, while only here and there can afew remains of the old walls be discovered. Sidbury-gate is gone; so isthe Foregate--so are almost all the memorials of the Battle.
Treated like a conquered city, ravaged, partially destroyed, all itswealthy inhabitants fined, many imprisoned as well as fined, somehanged, it could not be expected that Worcester, elastic as it has evershown itself, should immediately rise again--nor did it recover untilthe Restoration.
Then the city became prosperous once more, and it has prospered eversince. If not so picturesque as of yore, it is much better built--atleast, we are willing to think so. Most of the old timber houses andancient edifices have disappeared--but the Commandery is left. Thenoble cathedral is improved--both externally and internally. A veryrespectable structure of Queen Anne's time occupies the site of the oldGuildhall. In short, it would be difficult to find in the whole realm acity that can vie with Worcester in cheerfulness, prosperity, or beautyof situation. Its inhabitants are as loyal as ever, and ready to fightthe old battles o'er again.
FLOREAT SEMPER FIDELIS CIVITAS.
Boscobel; or, the royal oak: A tale of the year 1651 Page 36