Mistress Wilding

by Rafael Sabatini

  CHAPTER XV. LYME OF THE KING

  On the next day, which was Friday, the country folk continued to comein, and by evening Monmouth's forces amounted to a thousand foot anda hundred and fifty horse. The men were armed as fast as they wereenrolled, and scarce a field or quiet avenue in the district butresounded to the tramp of feet, the rattle of weapons, and the sharporders of the officers who, by drilling, were converting this rawmaterial into soldiers. On the Saturday the rally of the Duke's standardwas such that Monmouth threw off at last the gloomy forebodings that hadburdened his soul since that meeting on Thursday night. Wade, Holmes,Foulkes, and Fox were able to set about forming the first fourregiments--the Duke's, and the Green, the White, and the Yellow.Monmouth's spirits continued to rise, for he had been joined by nowby Legge and Hooper--the two upon whom Battiscomb had counted--and byColonel Joshua Churchill, of whom Battiscomb had been less certain.Captain Matthews brought news that Lord Wiltshire and the gentlemenof Hampshire might be expected if they could force their way throughAlbemarle's militia, which was already closing round Lyme.

  Long before evening willing fellows were being turned away in hundredsfor lack of weapons. In spite of Monmouth's big talk on landing, and ofthe rumour that had gone out, that he could arm thirty thousand men, hisstock of arms was exhausted by a mere fifteen hundred. Trenchard,who now held a Major's rank in the horse attached to the Duke's ownregiment, was loud in his scorn of this state of things; Mr. Wilding wassad, and his depression again spread to the Duke after a few words hadpassed between them towards evening. Fletcher was for heroic measures.He looked only ahead now, like the good soldier that he was; and,already, he began to suggest a bold dash for Exeter, for weapons,horses, and possibly the militia as well, for they had ample evidencethat the men composing it might easily be induced to desert to theDuke's side.

  The suggestion was one that instantly received Mr. Wilding's heartiestapproval. It seemed to fill him suddenly with hope, and he spoke ofit, indeed, as an inspiration which, if acted upon, might yet save thesituation. The Duke was undecided as ever; he was too much troubledweighing the chances for and against, and he would decide upon nothinguntil he had consulted Grey and the others. He would summon a councilthat night, he promised, and the matter should be considered.

  But that council was never to be called, for Andrew Fletcher'sassociation with the rebellion was drawing rapidly to its close, andthere was that to happen in the next few hours which should counteractall the encouragement with which the Duke had been fortified that day.Towards evening little Heywood Dare, the Taunton goldsmith, who hadlanded at Seatown and gone out with the news of the Duke's arrival, rodeinto Lyme with forty horse, mounted, himself, upon a beautiful chargerwhich was destined to be the undoing of him.

  News came, too, that the Dorset militia were at Bridport, eight milesaway, whereupon Wilding and Fletcher postponed all further suggestion ofthe dash for Exeter, proposing that in the mean time a night attack uponBridport might result well. For once Lord Grey was in agreement withthem, and so the matter was decided. Fletcher went down to arm andmount, and all the world knows the story of the foolish, ill-fatedquarrel which robbed Monmouth of two of his most valued adherents.By ill-luck the Scot's eyes lighted upon the fine horse that Dare hadbrought from Ford Abbey. It occurred to him that nothing could be morefitting than that the best man should sit upon the best horse, and heforthwith led the beast from the stables and was about to mount whenDare came forth to catch him in the very act. The goldsmith was a rude,peppery fellow, who did not mince his words.

  "What a plague are you doing with that horse?" he cried.

  Fletcher paused, one foot in the stirrup, and looked the fellow up anddown. "I am mounting it," said he, and proceeded to do as he said.

  But Dare caught him by the tails of his coat and brought him back toearth.

  "You are making a mistake, Mr. Fletcher," he cried angrily. "That horseis mine."

  Fletcher, whose temper was by no means of the most peaceful, kepthimself with difficulty in hand at the indignity Dare offered him.

  "Yours?" quoth he.

  "Aye, mine. I brought it from Ford Abbey myself."

  "For the Duke's service," Fletcher reminded him.

  "For my own, sir; for my own I would have you know." And brushingthe Scot aside, he caught the bridle, and sought to wrench it fromFletcher's hand.

  But Fletcher maintained his hold. "Softly, Mr. Dare," said he. "Ye'rea trifle o'er true to your name, as you once told his late Majestyyourself."

  "Take your hands from my horse," Dare shouted, very angry.

  Several loiterers in the yard gathered round to watch the scene, cullingdiversion from it and speculating upon the conclusion it might have. Onerash young fellow offered audibly to lay ten to one that Paymaster Darewould have the best of the argument.

  Dare overheard, and was spurred on.

  "I will, by God!" he answered. "Come, Mr. Fletcher!" And he shook thebridle again.

  There was a dull flush showing through the tan of Fletcher's skin."Mr. Dare," said he, "this horse is no more yours than mine. It is theDuke's, and I, as one o' the leaders, claim it in the Duke's service."

  "Aye, sir," cried an onlooker, encouraging Fletcher, and did themischief. It so goaded Dare to have his antagonist in this triflingmatter supported that he utterly lost his head.

  "I have said the horse is mine, and I repeat it. Let go the bridle--letit go!" Still, Fletcher, striving hard to keep his calm, clung to thereins. "Let it go, you damned, thieving Scot!" screamed Dare in a fury,and struck Fletcher with his whip.

  It was unfortunate for them both that he should have had that switch inhis hand at such a time, but more unfortunate still was it that Fletchershould have had a pistol in his belt. The Scot dropped the bridle atlast; dropped it to pluck forth the weapon.

  "Hi! I did not..." began Dare, who had stood appalled by what he haddone in the second or two that had passed since he had delivered theblow. The rest of his sentence was drowned in the report of Fletcher'spistol, and Dare dropped dead on the rough cobbles of the yard.

  Ferguson has left it on record--and, presumably, he had Fletcher'sword for it--that it was no part of the Scot's intent to do Mr. Darea mischief. He had but drawn the pistol to intimidate him into bettermanners, but in his haste he accidentally pulled the trigger.

  However that may be, there was Dare as dead as the stones on which helay, and Fletcher with a smoking pistol in his hand.

  After that all was confusion. Fletcher was seized by those who hadwitnessed the deed; there was none thought it an accident; indeed,they were all ready enough to say that Fletcher had received excessiveprovocation. He was haled to the presence of the Duke with whomwere Grey and Wilding at the time; and old Dare's son--an ensign inGoodenough's company--came clamouring for vengeance backed by suchgoodly numbers that the distraught Duke was forced to show at least theoutward seeming of it.

  Wilding, who knew the value of this Scottish soldier of fortune who hadseen so much service, strenuously urged his enlargement. It was not atime to let the fortunes of a cause suffer through such an act as this,deplorable though it might be. The evidence showed that Fletcher hadbeen provoked; he had been struck, a thing that might well justify theanger in the heat of which he had done this thing. Grey was stolid andsilent, saying nothing either for or against the man who had dividedwith him under the Duke the honours of the supreme command.

  Monmouth, white and horror-stricken, sat and listened first toWilding, then to Dare, and lastly to Fletcher himself. But it was youngDare--Dare and his followers, who prevailed. They were too numerous andturbulent, and they must at all costs be conciliated, or there was notelling to what extremes they might not go. And so there was an end tothe share of Andrew Fletcher of Saltoun in this undertaking--the end ofthe only man who was of any capacity to pilot it through the troubledwaters that lay before it. Monmouth placed him under arrest and sent himaboard the frigate again, ordering her captain to sail at once. That wasthe utmost Monmouth could
do to save him.

  Wilding continued to plead with the Duke after Fletcher's removal, andto such good purpose that at last Monmouth determined that Fletchershould rejoin them later, when the affair should have blown over, andhe sent word accordingly to the Scot. Even in this there weremanifestations of antagonism between Mr. Wilding and Lord Grey, and italmost seemed enough that Wilding should suggest a course for Lord Greyinstantly to oppose it.

  The effects of Fletcher's removal were not long in following. On themorrow came the Bridport affair, and Grey's shameful conduct when, hadhe stood his ground, victory must have been assured the Duke's forcesinstead of just that honourable retreat by which Colonel Wade sogallantly saved the situation. Mr. Wilding did not mince his words inputting it that Grey had run away.

  In his room at the George Inn, Monmouth, deeply distressed, askedWilding and Colonel Matthews what action he should take in thematter--how deal with Grey.

  "There is no other general in Europe would ask that, Your Grace,"answered Matthews gravely, and Mr. Wilding added without an instant'shesitation that His Grace's course was plain.

  "It would be an unwise thing to expose the troops to the chance of moresuch happenings."

  Monmouth dismissed them and sent for Grey, and he seemed resolved todeal with him as he deserved. Yet an hour later, when Wilding, Matthews,Wade, and the others were ordered to attend the Duke in council, therewas his lordship seemingly on as good terms as ever with His Grace.

  They were assembled to discuss the next step which it might be advisableto take, for the militia was closing in around them, and to remainlonger in Lyme would be to be caught there as in a trap. It was Greywho advanced the first suggestion, his assurance no whit abated bythe shameful thing that had befallen, by the cowardice which he hadbetrayed.

  "That we must quit Lyme we are all agreed," said he. "I would proposethat Your Grace march north to Gloucester, where our Cheshire friendswill assemble to meet us."

  Colonel Matthews reminded the Duke of Andrew Fletcher's proposal thatthey should make a raid upon Exeter with a view to seizing arms, ofwhich they stood so sorely in need.

  This Mr. Wilding was quick to support. "Not only that, Your Grace," hesaid, "but I am confident that with very little inducement the greaterportion of the militia will desert to us as soon as we appear.

  "What assurance can you give of that?" asked Grey, his heavy lipprotruded.

  "I take it," said Mr. Wilding, "that in such matters no man can givean assurance of anything. I speak with knowledge of the country and thefolk from which the militia is enlisted. I offer it as my opinion thatthe militia is favourably disposed to Your Grace. I can do no more.

  "If Mr. Wilding says so, Your Grace," put in Matthews, "I have no doubthe has sound reasons upon which to base his opinion.

  "No doubt," said Monmouth. "Indeed, I had already thought of the stepthat you suggest, Colonel Matthews, and what Mr. Wilding says causes meto look upon it still more favourably."

  Grey frowned. "Consider, Your Grace," he said earnestly, "that you arein no case to fight at present."

  "What fighting do you suggest there would be?" asked the Duke.

  "There is Albemarle between us and Exeter."

  "But with the militia," Wilding reminded him; "and if the militiadeserts him for Your Grace, in what case will Albemarle find himself?"

  "And if the militia does not desert? If you should be proven wrong, sir?What then? What then?" asked Grey.

  "Aye--true--what then, Mr. Wilding?" quoth the Duke, already wavering.

  Wilding considered a moment, all eyes upon him. "Even then," said hepresently, "I do maintain that in this dash for Exeter lies Your Grace'sgreatest chance of success. We can deliver battle if need be. Already weare three thousand strong..."

  Grey interrupted him rudely. "Nay," he insisted. "You must not presumeupon that. We are not yet fit to fight. It is His Grace's business atpresent to drill and discipline his troops and induce more friends tojoin him."

  "Already we are turning men away because we have no weapons to put intotheir hands," Wilding reminded them, and a murmur of approval ran round,which but served to anger Grey the more, to render more obstinate hisopposition.

  "But all that come in are not unprovided," was his lordship's retort."There are the Hampshire gentry and their friends. They will come armed,and so will others if we have patience.

  "Aye," said Wilding, "and if you have patience enough there will betroops the Parliament will send against us. They, too, will be armed, Ican assure your lordship."

  "In God's name let us keep from wrangling," the Duke besought them. "Itis difficult enough to determine for the best. If the dash to Exeterwere successful..."

  "It cannot be," Grey interrupted again.

  The liberties he took with Monmouth and which Monmouth permitted himmight well be a source of wonder to all who heard them. Monmouth pausednow in his interrupted speech and looked about him a trifle wearily.

  "It seems idle to insist," said Mr. Wilding; "such is the temper of YourGrace's counsellors, that we get no further than contradictions." Grey'sbold eyes were upon Wilding as he spoke. "I would remind Your Grace,and I am sure that many present will agree with me, that in a desperateenterprise a sudden unexpected movement will often strike terror."

  "That is true," said Monmouth, but apparently without enthusiasm, andhaving approved what was urged on one side, he looked at Grey, as ifwaiting to hear what might be said on the other. His indecision waspitiful--tragical, indeed, in the leader of so bold an enterprise.

  "We should do better, I think," said Grey, "to deal with the facts as weknow them."

  "It is what I am endeavouring to do, Your Grace," protested Wilding,a note of despair in his voice. "Perhaps some other gentleman will putforward better counsel than mine."

  "Aye! In Heaven's name let us hope so," snorted Grey; and Monmouth,catching the sudden flash of Mr. Wilding's eye, set a hand upon hislordship's arm as if to urge him to be gentler. But he continued, "Whenmen talk of striking terror by sudden movements they build on air."

  "I had hardly thought to hear that from your lordship," said Mr.Wilding, and he permitted himself that tight-lipped smile that gave hisface so wicked a look.

  "And why not?" asked Grey, stupidly unsuspicious.

  "Because I had thought you might have concluded otherwise from your ownexperience at Bridport this morning."

  Grey got angrily to his feet, rage and shame flushing his face, and itneeded Ferguson and the Duke to restore him to some semblance of calm.Indeed, it may well be that it was to complete this that His Gracedecided there and then that they should follow Grey's advice and go byway of Taunton, Bridgwater, and Bristol to Gloucester. He was, like allweak men, of conspicuous mental short-sightedness. The matter of themoment was ever of greater importance to him than any result that mightattend it in the future.

  He insisted that Wilding and Grey should shake hands before the breakingup of that most astounding council, and as he had done last night, henow again imposed upon them his commands that they must not allow thismatter to go further.

  Mr. Wilding paved the way for peace by making an apology withinlimitations.

  "If, in my zeal to serve Your Grace to the best of my ability, I havesaid that which Lord Grey thinks fit to resent, I would bid him considermy motive rather than my actual words."

  But when all had gone save Ferguson, the chaplain approached thepreoccupied and distressed Duke with counsel that Mr. Wilding should besent away from the army.

  "Else there'll be trouble 'twixt him and Grey," the plotting parsonforetold. "We'll be having a repetition of the unfortunate Fletcher andDare affair, and I think that has cost Your Grace enough already."

  "Do you suggest that I dismiss Wilding?" cried the Duke. "You know hisinfluence, and the bad impression his removal would leave."

  Ferguson stroked his long lean jaw. "No, no," said he; "all I suggest isthat you find Mr. Wilding work to do elsewhere."

  "Elsewhere?" the Duke quest
ioned. "Where else?"

  "I have thought of that, too. Send him to London to see Danvers and tostir up your friends there. And," he added, lowering his voice, "givehim discretion to see Sunderland if he thinks well."

  The proposition pleased Monmouth, and it seemed to please Mr. Wildingno less when, having sent for him, the Duke communicated it to him inFerguson's presence.

  Upon this mission Mr. Wilding set out that very night, leaving NickTrenchard in despair at being separated from him at a time when thereseemed to be every chance that such a separation might be eternal.

  Monmouth and Ferguson may have conceived they did a wise thing inremoving a man who was instinctively spoiling for a little sword-playwith my Lord Grey. It is odds that had he remained, the brewing stormbetween the pair would have come to a head. Had it done so, it is morethan likely, from what we know of Mr. Wilding's accomplishments, thathe had given Lord Grey his quietus. And had that happened, it is tobe inferred from history that it is possible the Duke of Monmouth'srebellion might have had a less disastrous issue.