Arrah Neil; or, Times of Old

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER XLVIII.

  The morning of Sunday, the 21st of October, broke dull and cold; thegrey clouds swept hurriedly over the sky, like charging squadrons, andthe wind whistled through the branches of a solitary clump of oldbeeches, which marked the highest point of the sharp rise calledEdgehill. From the brow might be seen a wide open slope, extendingdown nearly to the little town of Keinton, or Kineton, with some flatmeadows at the bottom, having a number of hedges and enclosures on theleft as one looked from the hill. On the other side all was at thattime open, and the fair undulations of Warwickshire might be seenbeyond, the brown woods clothed in a light mist. It was a peaceful andpleasant scene in the grey morning, notwithstanding the coldness anddulness of the day; and very soon after dawn the pale blue smoke beganto rise from the early chimneys of the little town, rising slow tillit was caught by the wind from the hill, and then hurrying away with afew light rolls and losing itself in air.

  Shortly after, a drum was heard to beat below, and then came the blastof a trumpet, and soon troops might be descried forming slowly andquietly in the plain, as if about to commence a safe and easy march.Horse and foot took their places in long line, and here and thereofficers and camp-followers were seen walking carelessly about, whileat the other spots some more rigid disciplinarians might be observedputting their men into better order, and galloping hither and thitherin all the bustle of command.

  Suddenly, however, some confusion was observed in one part of theplain, where a group of gentlemen on horseback had been visible forsome time; and two persons detached themselves from the rest, and rodeup at full speed towards the brow of the hill, towards which all eyeswere now turned. What saw they there which caused such apparentsurprise? It was a small party of horse, not more than twenty innumber, which had just moved up from the other side, and now halted,gazing into the valley. There were scarfs, and plumes, and glitteringarms amongst them, betokening no peaceful occupation; and after amoment's pause, a trumpeter mounted on a grey horse put his instrumentto his lips, and blew a long, loud blast. The next moment fresh headsappeared above the hedge, and troop after troop rode forward, and infair array took up a position at the summit.

  All was changed on the plain below in a moment; activity and temporaryconfusion succeeded the quiet regularity which before had beenobservable. The two horsemen who had been detached to the group infront were hurriedly recalled; musketeers were seen filing off to theleft; the cavalry was collected on the wings; the foot began to formline in the centre; and the party which had remained a little inadvance were discovered moving slowly along quite across the valley,while from time to time a horseman dashed away from it, and seemed toconvey orders to this or that regiment in different parts of thefield.

  Essex was now first aware of the presence of an enemy, and easilydivined that he could march no farther without fighting; but it ismore with those above that we have to do. Soon after the small body ofCavaliers on the hill had been discovered by the Roundhead army, upcame at headlong speed, followed by some eight or ten gentlemen whocould pace with him, a fiery-looking youth, with his beaver up and hiseye lightening with eager impetuosity. He seemed barely one-and-twentyyears of age; but there was on his brow the look of habitual command;and in the quick roll of his eye over the parliamentary army, thesudden pause it made here and there, and then its rapid turn towardsanother point, one might see how closely he scanned the forces of theenemy--how keenly he observed all that seemed worthy of attention.

  "They see us, your highness," said one of the gentlemen who hadarrived before him. "They were actually commencing their march when weappeared."

  "They would not have marched far, my lord," replied Prince Rupert;"but 'tis as well as it is. There are more of them than I thought, butwe must make valour supply numbers. I heard that they had left tworegiments behind at Stratford."

  "There are, sir, two of infantry and one of cavalry," replied LordWalton; "but that seems to me the best of all reasons for givingbattle as soon as possible."

  The very best, answered the prince, with a smile. "Victory is moreneedful to us than food, and of that we have had no great plenty. But,by my life, there is not a regiment of foot within sight! The foot aresad encumbrances. Would that these times were like the days of old,when every gentleman fought on horseback! We are fallen upon vulgardays."

  "I see the head of a regiment amongst those distant hedges," said theEarl of Beverley; "but our quarters were very much scattered lastnight."

  "And some noble persons had fair young wives to visit, my good lord,"replied the prince, bowing his head, with a smile.

  "True," rejoined the earl; "but yet your highness sees they are notthe last in the field; as how should they be, when they have suchtreasures to defend--such eyes for witnesses?"

  The reply suited the prince well; and after some more gay conversationhe dismounted from his horse, and seated himself under one of thebeech-trees, watching attentively every movement of the enemy, andfrom time to time pointing out to those around him the measures takenby Lord Essex for defence.

  "See!" he said; "he is filling those hedges with musketeers. Aston andhis dragoons must clear them. I will not break my teeth upon suchstones. He is forming a powerful reserve there, I suppose, underRamsay or the Earl of Bedford, and he has got all his foot in thecentre. Who is that on their left, I wonder? Well, I shall soon know,for I trust it will not be long before I see him closer. Would toheaven these tardy foot would come! We are giving him full time forevery arrangement he could desire and you may be sure he will not stirfrom amongst those hedges till we dislodge him."

  But the impatient prince had long to wait, for ten o'clock was near athand ere the first regiment of royal artillery was on the ground. Fromthat time, indeed, every quarter of an hour brought up some freshbody; but even then the men had marched far and needed somerefreshment. All that could be given them was a brief space of reposeand some cold water, for provisions were not to be obtained. Thesoldiery, however, were full of ardour, and many a gay jest and gibepassed amongst those who were never destined to quit that plain.

  Amongst other events that have been noticed by historians is the factthat the king's guard, composed entirely of gentlemen volunteers,having heard as they followed the monarch some slight scoffs at theirpeculiar post near his person, besought him to dispense with theirclose attendance that day, and obtained permission to charge with thecavalry of Prince Rupert on the right. On the left a smaller body ofhorse, commanded by Commissary-General Wilmot, and a regiment ofdragoons under Sir Arthur Aston, had the task of assailing the rightof the parliamentary army, protected as it was by enclosures linedwith musketeers; and to this service the small corps of the Earl ofBeverley was also assigned. Lord Walton fought upon the right underthe prince; and but one regiment of cavalry, led by Sir John Byron,was kept back as a reserve.

  One o'clock had passed, when at length, after a short consultationwith the Earl of Lindsay, the king commanded his forces to marchslowly down the hill towards Kineton. The distance was considerable;and before the ground was reached on which it was thought advisable tobegin the battle, the day had so far advanced that some old andexperienced officers suggested a delay till the following morning. Butsufficient arguments were not wanting to show that Essex must gain andhis sovereign lose by such a course. The troops, too, were eager toengage; and a very general belief prevailed that few of theparliamentary regiments would really be brought to fight against theirking. In the confusion of all accounts, it is hardly to be discoveredhow the battle really commenced; but certain it is that Prince Rupertburst into fury at the very thought of delay, and that his force ofcavalry first commenced the fight by charging the left of the enemy.As he was waiting to give the word, with all his blood on fire at thethought of the approaching strife, he remarked Lord Walton twice turnround and gaze towards the hill in the rear, and he asked, in a sharptone. "What look you for, my lord? Soldiers ever should look forward."

  Charles Walton's brow became as dark as
night, and it cost him amoment's thought ere he could reply with calmness--

  "I looked, sir, for one I thought I saw upon the hill as we moveddown; and as to the rest, Rupert of Bavaria has never been moreforward on the field, nor ever will be, than Charles Walton. But thereis other matter to attend to now. See you that regiment of horseadvancing to the charge?"

  The prince looked round, and beheld a considerable body of the enemycoming on at a quick pace, pistol in hand. He raised his sword abovehis head, about to speak the word; but at that moment the oppositeparty discharged their shot into the ground, and galloping on wheeledtheir horses into line with the Cavaliers. A buzz ran through theranks of "Fortescue! Fortescue!" "He was forced to join theRoundheads;" "Many more are in the like case;" and at the same momentthe cry of "Charge!" was heard; and, hurled like a thunderbolt againstthe mass of the enemy's cavalry on the left, with the prince at theirhead, the gallant force of Cavaliers rushed on. A fire, innocuous fromthe terror and confusion with which it was directed, was opened upontheir advancing line; but ere swords crossed, the parliamentarycavalry of the left wing, with the exception of one small body, turnedthe rein and fled. The Cavaliers thundered on the flank and rear; menand horses rolled over together, and foremost in the fight, wherever ashow of resistance was made, was the bridegroom of a day.

  "Lightning and devils!" cried Captain Barecolt, who followed hard uponhis steps. "See what love will make a man do! He has distanced theprince by six horse-lengths, and he will have that standard in aminute. Come, my lord, let a man have his share."

  On, on they rushed, pursuers and pursued, along the plain, over thehill; down went steel jack, and buff coat, and iron morion. Someturned at last to strike one stroke for life, but still the fieryspurs of Rupert and of Walton were behind them, and Edgehill field wasfar away when the prince himself cried--

  "Halt! Sound to the standard! Stay, Walton, stay you have outstrippedme indeed."

  Lord Walton drew his rein, but he raised not his visor,[1] for he feltthat he was pale.

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  [Footnote 1: We do not always remember that in the reign of Charles I.the cavalry were in general defended by casques with moveable visors.The dragoons, indeed, had usually an open helmet.]

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  "Methinks we are too far from the field, your highness," he replied."I will ride back with speed, for my men have followed close behindme, while you rally the rest and bring them up. I fear some mischance,for the king is without guards."

  "Go, go!" said the prince, instantly perceiving the error that hadbeen committed; "I will come after with all speed. Sound trumpet!Sound trumpet! Sound to the standard!"

  "Call them back, Barecolt, and follow!" exclaimed Lord Walton. "OldRandal is as mad as any of us. Bring him back quick. I fear we havespoiled the best day's deeds England has seen for long;" and gatheringtogether what men he could, he spurred headlong back towards thefield. Captain Barecolt followed on his steps, and he thought he sawthe young lord waver somewhat in the saddle; a stream of blood, too,was trickling down his scarf from his right shoulder, and spurring onhis horse to Charles Walton's side, he said, "You are wounded, sir;you are badly wounded! Let me lead you to----"

  But at that moment the field of battle came again before their eyes,and Lord Walton exclaimed--

  "Is this a time to talk of wounds? Look there!"

  The aspect of the scene had indeed greatly changed from what it hadbeen some half-an-hour before, when Wilmot and Aston on the left, andRupert on the right, were driving the Roundhead cavalry before them.Firm in his position stood the Earl of Essex with his foot. Hisreserve of horse had come down and were charging the royal infantry.The right wing, the left, and the reserve of Charles's horse were faraway, pursuing the flying foe; and the monarch himself with his twosons, only guarded by a small force of mounted Cavaliers, who had beentoo wise and loyal to follow the rash example set them by the princeappeared nearly surrounded by the parliamentary cavalry under SirWilliam Balfour.

  As Lord Walton reappeared upon the field, the royal standard waveredand fell, and in the midst of the fierce fire that rolled along thefront of the enemy's line, he charged upon the flank of Balfour'shorse to rescue his sovereign from the peril he was in. As theygalloped up, however, the standard rose again, and Essex's reservebegan slowly to retire upon the infantry; but still the young noblemanurged on his little troop upon the retreating force; some fiftygentlemen detached themselves from the small body that surrounded themonarch, and charging in front, and cutting their way clear through,Charles Walton and Francis of Beverley met in the midst of the_m?l?e_.

  "How goes it, Charles?" said the earl, with a glad voice. "If theprince would but return we would have a glorious victory!"

  "He is coming quickly," replied Lord Walton. "Rally your force withmine, Beverley, for one more charge;" and in another minute they wereagain in the midst of the retreating rebels.

  At the same moments in sad confusion and disarray, came back PrinceRupert's Cavaliers. Discipline, and order were lost amongst them.Officers were without men, and men without officers. Some few joinedthe troops of Lord Beverley and Lord Walton.

  But night was falling. Sir William Balfour led his horse in betweenthe regiments of infantry steadily and skilfully, then turned to facethe enemy; and the earl, finding that nothing could be effectedwithout a larger force, retreated and galloped up to Prince Rupert,who now stood near the king, to urge one decisive charge upon thecentre of the parliamentary line. The prince received him coldly,however--perhaps from a consciousness that he himself had done amiss;and some one suggested that the king should leave the field, pointingout how firmly Lord Essex kept his ground.

  "For shame! for shame!" cried the earl. "The victory might still beours, but certainly it is not his; and as long as his majesty remains,it cannot be so. The greater part of our foot is unbroken; our horseis victorious; and, whoever quits the field, I will remain upon it,dead or alive."

  "And I too, most certainly, my lord," said Charles. "I will never doso unkingly an act as to forsake them who have forsaken all to serveme. There is no look of victory on my Lord of Essex's side. We keepthe field. Let them advance to attack us if they dare. Take measuresto withdraw those cannon from that little mound; restore what ordermay be, for night is falling fast; and set a sure guard, that we benot surprised."

  For some time the discharge of musketry, which was still going on,continued upon both sides; but gradually, as the darkness increased,it slackened, revived, slackened again, fell into dropping shots, andthen fires began to appear along the line of either army, while allthe confusion and disarray which ever succeeds a drawn battle, wherethe combatants are only parted by the night, took place on eitherpart. Hours were spent in giving some sort of order to the royalistforces; officers sought their men, soldiers looked for their officers,rumours of every kind were spread, and many accidents andmisadventures happened, which cannot here be told.

  But there was one sad subject of thought that occupied many amind--"Who had fallen? Who remained wounded on the field?" It wasimpossible to discover; for the confusion was so great that no oneknew where the other was to be found. Lord Beverley, however, had seenCharles Walton almost to the latest moment of the strife, and insending off a messenger to Newington, to inform his fair bride of hisown safety, he ventured to add that her brother also had escaped theslaughter of the day. About midnight, however, as he was lying by afire, he heard a step approach, and looking up he saw Barecolt besidehim.

  The soldier's eyes gazed round the group, which lay in the glare, andbefore the earl could speak he said--

  "So he is not here?"

  "Do you mean Lord Walton?" asked the earl.

  "Ay, to be sure, my lord," replied Barecolt. "I have been seeking youthese two hours, and now we had better go and seek him, for dependupon it he is on the field. He was badly wounded with a shot in theside in that first charge, and he got another in the last; but perhapshe is not dead yet. The night is cold, and that staun
ches blood."

  "We have no lights," said the earl, a cold foreboding coming over hisheart. "Stay--the moon will be up in half-an-hour. Where saw you himlast?"

  "Within half musket-shot of the second regiment on the right,"answered Barecolt: "we had better wait, too, till the moon rises. Shewill give some light, if she do not even chase the clouds; and yet Iwould fain go soon, for I have strange doubts."

  "Of what?" asked the earl.

  "Nay, I do not well know," replied the soldier; "but I know onething--that sweet lady of his was not so far from the field as hewished and others thought. Just as we were moving down, I saw her orher ghost, and a countryman with his hand upon her horse's bridle, asif leading him over the rough ground on the left. Her lord saw her,too, or I am mistaken, for he more than once turned to look, and therewere words between him and the prince about it."

  The earl put his hand to his brow, in that sort of painful dreadwhich, without taking any definite form, hangs like a dark cloud overthe whole range of destiny.

  "You saw her near the field?" he said; "you saw her here? When wasthis?"

  "Why, I told you, my good lord--just as we were moving down, about oneof the clock," answered Captain Barecolt; "but there is a littlecottage, where a shepherd lives, up along the edge of the hill.Perhaps she has taken refuge there; or, it may be, she has gone back."

  "God grant it!" said the earl; "I will send up to the cottage to seeif she be there."

  Barecolt, however, undertook the task himself, saying that in such apiercing night the walk would warm him. But he found the cottagedeserted, and though there was sufficient light to guide him back tothe spot where the Earl of Beverley lay, the moon did not show herselfall night, the darkness remained as profound as ever, neither lanternnor torch could be procured, and it was perfectly hopeless to attempta search under such circumstances. Weary hour by hour passed awaybeside the fire, till it died away for want of fuel; but still,notwithstanding all the fatigue that they had endured, Lord Beverleyand his companion sat wakeful till the dawn of morning, and duringtheir conversation Barecolt showed a depth of feeling and an interestin the fate of Charles Walton and Arrah Neil which raised him much inthe opinion of the earl. As soon as the first grey streaks announcedthe coming day, Lord Beverley was on horseback with his troop; butthere before him stood the parliamentary army, reinforced, rather thandiminished, since the night before. It was impossible to approach thepart of the field where Lord Walton had last been seen except with alarge force; but four pieces of the enemy's artillery were seen,considerably in advance of their line in that direction; and at thesuggestion of Barecolt the earl asked and obtained leave to make acharge with his own troop and that of Major Randal, to endeavour tocapture some of the cannon. This, as is well known, was effected earlyin the morning, without much loss or opposition; but the chief objectof the earl, the discovering of his friend's body, could not beaccomplished.

  The rest of the events of that day are familiar to every one. Thegreater part of the morning was spent in consultations on the royalistpart, and in fruitless endeavours to induce the officers to make onegreat effort against the enemy, till, towards evening, both armiesbegan to retire, the first movement of retreat being made by theparliament forces, which were followed for a considerable distance bythe royalist cavalry.

  For ten miles the Earl of Beverley joined in the pursuit, but thenobtained leave to return to the field, and his sad search began.

  It was long protracted, and night was again beginning to fall when alow fierce growl, as he walked along one of the hedges on the right,called his attention to a pit which had been dug at the foot of asmall oak tree. A little path ran down amongst some bushes, andhurrying along it, with Barecolt and several of his men, he reachedthe bottom.

  There they found two or three wounded soldiers, who had draggedthemselves thither to die; but in the midst was the saddest sight ofall. Prone upon the ground, with the head uncovered, lay the body ofCharles Walton; but that head was pillowed on the arm of poor ArrahNeil. Her lips seemed to have been pressed upon his, for her fair facehad fallen forward upon his neck, and her bosom rested on his steelcuirass, while her left arm hung over him, the hand half clasping hisright. Beside them, gazing down upon the poor girl, with drooping earsand tail, stood the gaunt stag-hound, and the faithful beast turnedfiercely upon the first man who approached. He recognised the earl,however, and took a step or two forward towards him with a faint howl,and then returned and gazed again on her with whom he had sported inher childhood.

  Lord Beverley knelt down and gently took her hand: it was cold as ice;but there was a keen frost, and he touched her cheek, removing therich ringlets of her hair, which had fallen over her face. There wassome warmth left; and raising her in his arms he directed her to becarried into the little town of Kineton, now in possession of theroyalist cavalry, with the body of her husband.

  But Arrah never spoke again. It was evident that she had come in timeto receive the last breath of him she loved, for the fingers of LordWalton's left hand were found tightly closed upon her garments; buthow she had found him, or when, could not be discovered. All that wasever learned was, that one of the ploughmen of the farm at Newingtonhad guided her to Edgehill, and that from the summit she had witnessedthe battle below; but at night, as she would not return, the man hadleft her, and all the rest was darkness. Every effort was made torecal her to herself, but all was in vain; and in about two hoursafter she had been removed to Kineton, the last feeble spark of lifethat was left went out; and she was buried in the same grave with herhusband, in less than a week from her marriage-day.

  Such was the fate of one of the fairest and the gentlest of humanbeings. It would be a sad fact, that virtue and good conduct, that thehighest qualities of the mind and the heart, cannot always commandsuccess or ensure happiness but that we have the grand assurance, bothin God's Word and in God's goodness, that there is a place where thereis compensation and reward. That the very brightest and the very bestof human efforts often do not obtain their recompense here, has beenadmitted by the most sceptical of philosophers as a strong evidence ofa future state. Our hopes and expectations are founded on a higher andbetter basis, and we are permitted to see, even in the sorrows of thegood, the trial of that faith which is the assurance of immortality.

  We might well close our history here, and close it in sadness; but, asthere are almost always some mitigating circumstances in the course ofdisastrous events, we may be allowed to take off a little from thetragic character of the conclusion of this tale by speaking of theafter history of other persons who have figured in the scene; and thereader is always anxious more or less to hear the ultimate fate ofthose in whom he has taken an interest.

  To speak of the more important personages, then:--In the first place,it may well be supposed that the Earl of Beverley mourned sincerelyfor his friend, and his grief was somewhat aggravated by the powers ofimagination; for the fact that his persuasions had been the immediatecause of Lord Walton joining the royal standard connected itselfclosely with the dream which he had had in prison, and brought ashadow over him whenever the events of the day gave him time forthought. He himself went safely through all the scenes of the civilwar, remaining uninjured, except from a slight wound which he receivedat Long Marston Moor. His fair lady followed him as closely as waspossible throughout the whole of those eventful times, and she was ashappy as unchanging love and affection could make her amidst thedisasters of her country and the overthrow of the royal house to whichshe was attached. The fall of her brother and the death of his gentlebride affected Annie Walton deeply, and it was long ere she regainedthe original cheerfulness of her character; but that cheerfulnessdepended as much upon principle as upon mood, and instead ofencouraging grief, she made every effort to regain her serenity.

  After the total ruin of the Cavalier party, the earl and his wiferetired to France, and continued to live there in almost totalseclusion till the restoration of the house of Stuart brought themback to their native land, where, t
hough they met with the neglectwhich, in those days, as it is in all, was too frequently the rewardof good services, they bore it with perfect indifference, happy inmutual affection, and requiring nothing else to complete theirfelicity.

  A short time before they quitted England, Lady Margaret Langley hadleft the troublous scene in which they were still moving, for therepose of that quiet mansion which she had long looked to only as aplace of rest. But there is still one personage of whose after historywe must say a few words. Captain Deciduous Barecolt continued to servethe king as long as any services could be available, and in no pointor particular did he derogate from his high-established character. Hefought as well, he drank as deeply, he lied as vigorously as we haveseen him do in the past narrative; and, though in the succeeding warshe got into a thousand scrapes, in which it required all the genius ofa Barecolt to extricate his neck from the halter or his throat fromthe knife, he contrived, with marvellous ingenuity, to find his wayout of circumstances which would have overwhelmed any common man. Norwas he absent from Worcester field; on the contrary, some haveasserted that he was taken prisoner on that occasion, and contrived todeceive the keenness of Cromwell himself. Certain it is, that afterthe restoration of Charles II. Barecolt returned to England, presentedhimself at Bishop's Merton, put in a claim to the property of Mr. Dry,of Longsoaken, as the direct heir of old Nicholas Cobalter, and havingproved that the will under which Mrs. Cobalter had possessed hisuncle's property was a forgery, he established such a debt against theestate of Mr. Dry as speedily rendered him the master of Longsoaken.There he continued to reside with an elderly man named Falgate, whoplayed the character, partly of dependant, partly of attached friend,till he had well-nigh reached the age of eighty years, when, with aform somewhat bowed, a face somewhat white, and a nose which hadgradually turned from red to blue, Colonel Barecolt, of Longsoaken,sank quietly into the grave, his last words being, "The pottle-pot'sempty, Diggory."

  THE END.

  WOODFALL AND KINDER, PRINTERS, LONG ACRE, LONDON.