by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER XIII.
PUBLIC EVENTS.
For some days Harry remained quietly with his friend. He did not stirbeyond the door, although he had but little fear of any of his oldfriends recognizing him. The two years which had passed since he was atschool had greatly changed his appearance, and his closely-cut hair, andthe somber and Puritanical cut of his garments so completely altered himthat it would have been a keen eye indeed which had recognized him whenmerely passing in the street. A portion of each day he spent out in thegarden strolling with Lucy, or sitting quietly while she read to him.The stiffness in his arm was now abating, and as the search for him hadto a great extent ceased, he intended in a short time to make forOxford.
The news from the various points at which the conflict still continuedwas everywhere disastrous for the king. Montrose had been defeated. Theking, endeavoring to make his way north to join him, had been smartlyrepulsed. The Royalists were everywhere disorganized and broken.Negotiations were once again proceeding, and as the Scottish army wasmarching south, and the affairs of the crown seemed desperate, there wasevery hope that the end of the long struggle was approaching. Harry'sdeparture was hastened by a letter received by Herbert from his father,saying that he had obtained leave from his regiment, and should be downupon the following day.
"My father will not blame me," Herbert said, "for what I have done, whenhe comes to know it. But I am not sure that he would himself approve ofyour remaining here. His convictions are so earnest, and his sense ofduty so strong, that I do not think he would harbor his nearestrelative, did he believe him to be in favor of the king."
Harry next morning mounted a horse of Herbert's and started to ride fromthe town, after taking an affectionate farewell of his hosts. When twomiles out of Abingdon he suddenly came upon a body of Parliament horse,in the leader of whom he recognized, by a great scar across his face,the officer with whom he had fallen out at Furness Hall. Relying uponhis disguise, and upon the fact that it was only for a minute that theofficer had seen him, he rode quietly on.
"Whom have we here?" the Roundhead said, reining in his horse.
"My name is Roger Copley, and I am making my way from London to mypeople, who reside in the west. There is no law, I believe, against myso doing."
"There is no law for much that is done or undone," the Roundhead said."Malignants are going about the country in all sorts of disguises,stirring up men to ungodly enterprises, and we cannot be too particularwhom we let pass. What hast thou been doing in London?"
"I have been serving my time as apprentice to Master Nicholas Fleming,the merchant in velvets and silks in the Chepe."
"Hast thou any papers to prove thy identity?"
"I have not," Harry said; "not knowing that such were needed. I havetraveled thus far without interruption or question, and am surprised tofind hindrance upon the part of an officer of the Commons."
"You must turn your horse, and ride back with me into Abingdon," theofficer said. "I doubt me much that you are as you pretend to be.However, it is a matter which we can bring to the proof."
Harry wondered to himself of what proof the matter was capable. Butwithout a word he turned his horse's head toward Abingdon. Scarcely aword was spoken on the way, and Harry was meditating whether he shouldsay that he had been staying with his friend Herbert. But thinking thatthis might lead the latter into trouble, he determined to be silent onthat head. They stopped at the door of the principal trader in the townand the captain roughly told his prisoner to alight and enter with him.
"Master Williamson," he said, "bring out some pieces of velvet. Thisman, whom I suspect to be a Cavalier in disguise, saith that he has beenan apprentice to Master Nicholas Fleming, a velvet dealer of London. Iwould fain see how far his knowledge of these goods extends. Bring outfive or six pieces of various qualities, and put them upon your tablepromiscuously, and not in order of value."
The mercer did as requested.
"These goods," he said, "were obtained from Master Fleming himself. Ibought them last year, and have scarce sold a piece of such an articlesince."
Harry felt rather nervous at the thought of being obliged to distinguishbetween the velvets, for although he had received some hints andinstructions from the merchant, he knew that the appearance of one kindof velvet differed but slightly from that of the inferior qualities. Tohis satisfaction, however, he saw at the end of the rolls the pieces ofpaper intact upon which Master Fleming's private marks were placed.
"I need not," he said, "look at the velvets, for I see my master'sprivate marks upon them, and can of course tell you their value atonce."
So saying, from the private marks he read off the value of each roll ofvelvet per yard, and as these tallied exactly with the amount which themercer had paid for them, no further doubts remained upon the mind ofthe officer.
"These marks," he said to the mercer, "are, I suppose, private, andcould not be read save by one in the merchant's confidence?"
"That is so," the mercer replied. "I myself am in ignorance of themeaning of these various symbols."
"You will forgive me," the Parliament officer said to Harry. "In thesetimes one cannot be too suspicious, and even the best friends of theCommons need not grudge a little delay in their journeyings, in orderthat the doings of the malignants may be arrested."
Harry in a few words assured the officer that he bore him no malice forhis arrest, and that, indeed, his zeal in the cause did him credit. Thenagain mounting his horse, he quietly rode out of Abingdon. This time hemet with no difficulties, and an hour later entered Oxford.
Here he found his father and many of his acquaintances. A great changehad come over the royal city. The tone of boastfulness and anticipatedtriumph which had pervaded it before the second battle of Newbury hadnow entirely disappeared. Gloom was written upon all faces, and fewentertained any hopes of a favorable termination to their cause. Here ayear passed slowly and heavily. The great proportion of Sir HenryFurness' troop were allowed to return to their farms, as at presentthere was no occasion for their services in the field.
All this time the king was negotiating and treating; the Parliamentquarreling furiously among themselves. The war had languishedeverywhere. In the west a rising had been defeated by the Parliamenttroops. The Prince of Wales had retired to France; and there was now noforce which could be called an army capable of taking the field.
The bitterness of the conflict had for a long time ceased; and in thegeneral hope that peace was at hand, the rancor of Cavalier againstRoundhead softened down, A great many of the adherents of Charlesreturned quietly to their homes, and here they were allowed to settledown without interruption.
The contrast between this state of things and that which prevailed inScotland was very strong, and has been noted by more than one historian.In England men struggled for principle, and, having fought the battleout, appeared to bear but little animosity to each other, and returnedeach to his own pursuits unmolested and unharmed. In Scotland, upon theother hand, after the defeat of Montrose, large numbers of prisonerswere executed in cold blood, and sanguinary persecutions took place.
In Parliament the disputes between the Independents and Presbyteriansgrew more and more bitter, the latter being strengthened by the presenceof the Scotch army in England. They were greatly in the majority inpoint of numbers; but the Independents made up for their numericalweakness by the violence of their opinions, and by the support of thearmy, which was entirely officered by men of extreme views.
The king, instead of frankly dealing with the Commons, now that hishopes in the field were gone, unhappily continued his intrigues, hopingthat an open breach would take place between the parties. On the 5th ofDecember he wrote to the speaker of the House of Lords, offering to senda deputation to Westminster with propositions for the foundation of ahappy and well-grounded peace. This offer was declined, and he againwrote, offering himself to proceed to Westminster to treat in person.The leaders of Parliament, and indeed with reason, suspected thesincerity of the
king. Papers had been found in the carriage of theCatholic Archbishop of Tuam, who was killed in a skirmish in October,proving that the king had concluded an alliance with the Irish rebels,and that he had agreed, if they would land ten thousand men in England,that popery should be re-established in Ireland, and the Protestantsbrought under subjection. Letters which have since been discovered provethat in January, 1646, while urging upon the Parliament to come toterms, he was writing to the queen, saying that he was only deceivingthem. In his letter he said:
"Now, as to points which I expected by my treaty at London. Knowingassuredly the great animosity which is betwixt the Independents andPresbyterians, I had great reason to hope that one of the factions wouldso address themselves to me that I might, without great difficulty,obtain my so just ends, and, questionless, it would have given me thefittest opportunity. For considering the Scots' treaty that would bebesides, I might have found means to put distractions among them, thoughI had found none."
Such being the spirit that animated the king, there is little reason forsurprise that the negotiations came to nothing. The last hope of thecrown was destroyed when, on the 22d of March, Lord Astley, marchingfrom Worcester to join the king at Oxford, was defeated at Stow, in theWold, and the three thousand Cavaliers with him killed, captured, ordispersed. Again the king sent a message to Parliament, offering to cometo Whitehall, and proposing terms similar to those which he had rejectedwhen the negotiators met at Uxbridge. His real object, however, was toproduce such an effect by his presence in London as would create areaction in his favor. Three days after he had sent this message hewrote to Digby:
"I am endeavoring to get to London, so that the conditions may be suchas a gentleman may own, and that the rebels may acknowledge me king,being not without hope that I shall be able so to draw either thePresbyterians or Independents to side with me for exterminating the oneor the other, that I shall be really king again."
These offers were rejected by Parliament, and the army of Fairfaxadvanced toward Oxford. In the meanwhile, Montreuil, a specialambassador from France, had been negotiating with the Scottishcommissioners in London to induce the Scots to take up the cause of theking. He then proceeded to Edinburgh, and afterward to the Scotch army.At first the Scotch were willing to receive him; but they perceived thedanger which would be involved in a quarrel with the English Parliament.Already there were many causes of dispute. The army had not received thepay promised them when they marched south, and being without money hadbeen obliged to live upon the country, creating great disorders andconfusion, and rendering themselves bitterly hated by the people. Thustheir answers continued to be ambiguous, making no absolute promise, butyet giving a sort of encouragement to the king to place himself in theirhands.
Toward the end of April Fairfax was drawing so close around Oxford thatthe king felt that hesitation was no longer possible, and accompaniedonly by his chaplain, Dr. Michael Hudson, and by a groom of hisbedchamber, named Jack Ashburnham, he left Oxford at night, and aftermany adventures arrived at the Scotch army, before Newark, where uponhis arrival "many lords came instantly to wait on his majesty, withprofessions of joy to find that he had so far honored their army as tothink it worthy his presence after so long an opposition." Lord Leven,however, who commanded the Scotch army, while receiving the king withprofessions of courtesy and honor, yet gave him to understand that hemust in some way consider himself as a prisoner. The king, at therequest of the Scotch, signed an order to his governor of Newark, whohad been for months bravely holding out, to surrender the place, andthis having been done, the Scottish army with the king marched toNewcastle.
After the king's surrender to the Scotch the civil war virtually ceased,although many places still held out. Oxford, closely invested,maintained itself until the 22d of June, when it capitulated to Fairfax,upon the terms that the garrison "should march out of the city of Oxfordwith their horses and complete arms that properly belong under themproportionable to their present or past commands, flying colors,trumpets sounding, drums beating, matches alight at both ends, bulletsin their mouths, and every soldier to have twelve charges of powder,match and bullet proportionable." Those who desired to go to theirhouses or friends were to lay down their arms within fifteen miles ofOxford, and then to have passes, with the right of free quarter, andthose who wished to go across the sea to serve any foreign power were tobe allowed to do so. This surrender was honorable to both parties, andupon the city being given up, the garrison marched out, and thenscattered to their various houses and counties, without let ormolestation from the troops of the Commons.
Harry Furness and his father had not far to go. They were soon installedin their old house, where although some confusion prevailed owing to itshaving been frequently in the occupation of bodies of Parliament troops,yet the damage done was not serious, and in a short time it wasrestored to its former condition. Several of the more valuable articleswere allowed to remain in the hiding-places in which they had beenconcealed, as none could yet say how events might finally turn out. Aportion of the Parliamentary troops were also disbanded, and allowed toreturn to their homes; among these were Master Rippinghall and his son,and for some months matters went on at Abingdon as if the civil war hadnever been. Harry often saw his friend Herbert; but so long as the kingremained in a doubtful position in the army of the Scots, no closeintercourse could take place between members of parties so opposed toeach other.
The time went slowly with Harry, for after the past three years ofexcitement it was difficult to settle down to a quiet life at FurnessHall. He was of course too old now for schooling, and the times were yettoo disturbed for men to engage in the field sports which occupy solarge a portion of country life. Colonel Furness, indeed, had determinedthat in no case would he again take up arms. He was discontented withthe whole course of events, and foresaw that, with the unhappy temper ofthe king, no favorable issue could possibly be looked for. He had donehis best, he said, for the crown and would do no more. He told his son,however, that he should place no rein upon his inclinations should hechoose to meddle further in the matter. Harry would fain have goneabroad, whither so many of the leading Cavaliers had already betakenthemselves, and entered the service of some foreign court for a fewyears. But his father dissuaded him from this, at any rate for thepresent.
"These delays and negotiations," he said, "cannot last forever. I carenot whether Presbyterians or Independents get the power over ourunhappy country. The Independents are perhaps the more bigoted; thePresbyterians the more intolerant. But as the latter would certainlyrespect the royal authority more than the former, whose rage appears tome to pass the bounds of all moderation, I would gladly see thePresbyterians obtain the upper hand."
For months the negotiations dragged wearily on, the king, as usual,maintaining an indecisive attitude between the two parties. At length,however, the negotiations ended in a manner which brought an eternaldisgrace upon the Scotch, for they agreed, upon the receipt of a largesum of money as the deferred pay of the army, to deliver the king intothe hands of the English Parliament. A great convoy of money was sentdown from London, and the day that the cash was in the hands of theScots they handed over the king to the Parliamentary commissioners sentdown to receive him. The king was conducted to Holmby House, a finemansion within six miles of Northampton, and there was at first treatedwith great honor. A large household and domestic servants were chosenfor him, an excellent stable kept, and the king was allowed a largeamount of personal liberty. The nobles and gentlemen of his court werepermitted to see him, and in fact he was apparently restored to his rankand estate. The Presbyterian party were in power; but while they treatedthe king with the respect due to his exalted station, they had no moreregard to the rights of his conscience than to those of the consciencesof the people at large. He desired to have chaplains of the Episcopalchurch; but the Parliament refused this, and sent him two Presbyterianministers, whom the king refused to receive.
While King Charles remained at Holmby Parliament quarreled furious
ly.The spirit of the Independents obtained a stronger and stronger holdupon the army. Cromwell himself, with a host of others, preacheddaily among them, and this general, although Fairfax was thecommander-in-chief, came gradually to be regarded as the leader of thearmy. There can be no doubt that Cromwell was thoroughly sincere in hisconvictions, and the charges of hypocrisy which have been broughtagainst him, are at least proved to be untrue. He was a man ofconvictions as earnest as those of the king himself, and as firmlyresolved to override the authority of the Parliament, when theParliament withstood him.
Three days after the king arrived at Holmby House the Commons voted thatthe army should be disbanded, with the exception of troops required forthe suppression of rebellion in Ireland, and for the service of thegarrisons. It was also voted that there should be no officers, exceptFairfax, of higher rank than colonel, and that every officer should takethe covenant and conform to the Presbyterian Church. A loan was raisedin the city to pay off a portion of the arrears of pay due to the army.The sum, however, was insufficient, and there were great murmuringsamong the men and officers. Fourteen of the latter petitioned Parliamenton the subject of arrears, asking that auditors should be appointed toreport on what was due to them, and laying down some conditions withregard to their employment in Ireland. Five days afterward the House, onreceipt of this petition, declared that whoever had a hand in promotingit, or any other such petition, was an enemy to the State, and adisturber of the public peace. The army were furious at thisdeclaration. Deputations from them went to the House, and from the Houseto the army. The Presbyterian members were highly indignant at theirpretensions, and Cromwell saw that the time was at hand when the armywould take the affair entirely into their hands. The soldiers organizeda council of delegates, called "Adjutators," to look after their rights.The Parliament voted eight weeks' pay, and a committee went to the armyto see it disbanded. The army declined to disband, and said that eighttimes eight weeks' pay was due. The feeling grew hotter and hotter, andthe majority in Parliament came to the conclusion that Cromwell shouldbe arrested. Cromwell, however, obtained word of what was intended, andleft London.
Upon the same day a party of soldiers went down to Holmby, and forciblycarried off King Charles from the Parliamentary commissioners, thetroops stationed at Holmby fraternizing with their comrades. The king,under the charge of these new guards, arrived at Royston on the 7th ofJune, and Fairfax and Cromwell met him there. He asked if they hadcommissioned Joyce, who was at the head of the party of men who hadcarried him off, to remove him. They denied that they had done so.
"I shall not believe you," said the king, "unless you hang him."
And his majesty had good ground for his disbelief.
Cromwell returned to London and took his place in the House, and thereblamed the soldiers, protesting that he would stick to the Parliament;but the same night he went away again down to the army, and theredeclared to them the actions and designs of Parliament. Commissionerscame down on the 10th from the Commons; but the army formed up, and whenthe votes were read, refused to obey them. The same afternoon a letter,signed by Fairfax, Cromwell, Ireton, and ten other officers, was sent tothe city, stating that they were about to advance upon London, anddeclaring that if the city did not take part against them "in their justdesires to resist that wicked party which would embroil us and thekingdom, neither we nor our soldiers shall give you the least offense."The army marched to St. Albans, and thence demanded the impeachment ofeleven members of the Commons, all leading Presbyterians. The city andParliament were in a state of consternation. The army advanced toUxbridge. It demanded a month's pay, and received it; but it continuedto advance. On the 26th of April Parliament gave way. The eleven membersretired from the House, the Commons passed a vote approving of theproceedings of the army, and commissioners were appointed.
All this time the king was treated as honorably as he had been when atHolmby House. He was always lodged at great houses in the neighborhoodof the army--at the Earl of Salisbury's, at Hatfield, when the troopswere at St. Albans, and at the Earl of Craven's, at Caversham, when thearmy moved further back. And at both of these places he was allowed toreceive the visits of his friends, and to spend his time as he desired.
More critical times were now, however, at hand.