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Woodstock; or, The Cavalier

S >> Sir Walter Scott >> Woodstock; or, The Cavalier




Everard also wrote a letter in the most grateful terms to Cromwell,
which would probably have been less warm had he known more distinctly
than his follower chose to tell him, the expectation under which the
wily General had granted his request. He acquainted his Excellency with
his purpose of continuing at Woodstock, partly to assure himself of the
motions of the three Commissioners, and to watch whether they did not
again enter upon the execution of the trust, which they had for the
present renounced,--and partly to see that some extraordinary
circumstances, which had taken place in the Lodge, and which would
doubtless transpire, were not followed by any explosion to the
disturbance of the public peace. He knew (as he expressed himself) that
his Excellency was so much the friend of order, that he would rather
disturbances or insurrections were prevented than punished; and he
conjured the General to repose confidence in his exertions for the
public service by every mode within his power; not aware, it will be
observed, in what peculiar sense his general pledge might be
interpreted.

These letters being made up into a packet, were forwarded to Windsor by
a trooper, detached on that errand.

* * * * *

CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH.


We do that in our zeal,
Our calmer moments are afraid to answer.
ANONYMOUS.

While the Commissioners were preparing to remove themselves from the
Lodge to the inn at the borough of Woodstock, with all that state and
bustle which attend the movements of great persons, and especially of
such to whom greatness is not entirely familiar, Everard held some
colloquy with the Presbyterian clergyman, Master Holdenough, who had
issued from the apartment which he had occupied, as it were in defiance
of the spirits by whom the mansion was supposed to be disturbed, and
whose pale cheek, and pensive brow, gave token that he had not passed
the night more comfortably than the other inmates of the Lodge of
Woodstock. Colonel Everard having offered to procure the reverend
gentleman some refreshment, received this reply:--"This day shall I not
taste food, saving that which we are assured of as sufficient for our
sustenance, where it is promised that our bread shall be given us, and
our water shall be sure. Not that I fast, in the papistical opinion that
it adds to those merits, which are but an accumulation of filthy rags;
but because I hold it needful that no grosser sustenance should this day
cloud my understanding, or render less pure and vivid the thanks I owe
to Heaven for a most wonderful preservation."

"Master Holdenough," said Everard, "you are, I know, both a good man and
a bold one, and I saw you last night courageously go upon your sacred
duty, when soldiers, and tried ones, seemed considerably alarmed."

"Too courageous--too venturous" was Master Holdenough's reply, the
boldness of whose aspect seemed completely to have died away. "We are
frail creatures, Master Everard, and frailest when we think ourselves
strongest. Oh, Colonel Everard," he added, after a pause, and as if the
confidence was partly involuntary, "I have seen that which I shall never
survive!"

"You surprise me, reverend sir," said Everard;--"may I request you will
speak more plainly? I have heard some stories of this wild night, nay,
have witnessed strange things myself; but, methinks, I would be much
interested in knowing the nature of your disturbance."

"Sir," said the clergyman, "you are a discreet gentleman; and though I
would not willingly that these heretics, schismatics, Brownists,
Muggletonians, Anabaptists, and so forth, had such an opportunity of
triumph, as my defeat in this matter would have afforded them, yet with
you, who have been ever a faithful follower of our Church, and are
pledged to the good cause by the great National League and Covenant,
surely I would be more open. Sit we down, therefore, and let me call for
a glass of pure water, for as yet I feel some bodily faltering; though,
I thank Heaven, I am in mind resolute and composed as a merely mortal
man may after such a vision.--They say, worthy Colonel, that looking on
such things foretells, or causes, speedy death--I know not if it be
true; but if so, I only depart like the tired sentinel when his officer
releases him from his post; and glad shall I be to close these wearied
eyes against the sight, and shut these harassed ears against the
croaking, as of frogs, of Antinomians, and Pelagians, and Socinians, and
Arminians, and Arians, and Nullifidians, which have come up into our
England, like those filthy reptiles into the house of Pharaoh."

Here one of the servants who had been summoned, entered with a cup of
water, gazing at the same time in the face of the clergyman, as if his
stupid grey eyes were endeavouring to read what tragic tale was written
on his brow; and shaking his empty skull as he left the room, with the
air of one who was proud of having discovered that all was not exactly
right, though he could not so well guess what was wrong.

Colonel Everard invited the good man to take some refreshment more
genial than the pure element, but he declined: "I am in some sort a
champion" he said; "and though I have been foiled in the late
controversy with the Enemy, still I have my trumpet to give the alarm,
and my sharp sword to smite withal; therefore, like the Nazarites of
old, I will eat nothing that cometh of the vine, neither drink wine nor
strong drink, until these my days of combat shall have passed away."

Kindly and respectfully the Colonel anew pressed Master Holdenough to
communicate the events that had befallen him on the preceding night; and
the good clergyman proceeded as follows, with that little characteristic
touch of vanity in his narrative, which naturally arose out of the part
he had played in the world, and the influence which he had exercised
over the minds of others. "I was a young man at the University of
Cambridge," he said, "when I was particularly bound in friendship to a
fellow-student, perhaps because we were esteemed (though it is vain to
mention it) the most hopeful scholars at our college; and so equally
advanced, that it was difficult, perhaps, to say which was the greater
proficient in his studies. Only our tutor, Master Purefoy, used to say,
that if my comrade had the advantage of me in gifts, I had the better of
him in grace; for he was attached to the profane learning of the
classics, always unprofitable, often impious and impure; and I had light
enough to turn my studies into the sacred tongues. Also we differed in
our opinions touching the Church of England, for he held Arminian
opinions, with Laud, and those who would connect our ecclesiastical
establishment with the civil, and make the Church dependent on the
breath of an earthly man. In fine, he favoured Prelacy both in
essentials and ceremonial; and although, we parted with tears and
embraces, it was to follow very different courses. He obtained a living,
and became a great controversial writer in behalf of the Bishops and of
the Court. I also, as is well known to you, to the best of my poor
abilities, sharpened my pen in the cause of the poor oppressed people,
whose tender consciences rejected the rites and ceremonies more
befitting a papistical than a reformed Church, and which, according to
the blinded policy of the Court, were enforced by pains and penalties.
Then came the Civil War, and I--called thereunto by my conscience, and
nothing fearing or suspecting what miserable consequences have chanced
through the rise of these Independents--consented to lend my countenance
and labour to the great work, by becoming chaplain to Colonel Harrison's
regiment. Not that I mingled with carnal weapons in the field--which
Heaven forbid that a minister of the altar should--but I preached,
exhorted, and, in time of need, was a surgeon, as well to the wounds of
the body as of the soul. Now, it fell, towards the end of the war, that
a party of malignants had seized on a strong house in the shire of
Shrewsbury, situated on a small island advanced into a lake, and
accessible only by a small and narrow causeway. From thence they made
excursions, and vexed the country; and high time it was to suppress
them, so that a part of our regiment went to reduce them; and I was
requested to go, for they were few in number to take in so strong a
place, and the Colonel judged that my exhortations would make them do
valiantly. And so, contrary to my wont, I went forth with them, even to
the field, where there was valiant fighting on both sides. Nevertheless,
the malignants shooting their wall-pieces at us, had so much the
advantage, that, after bursting their gates with a salvo of our cannon,
Colonel Harrison ordered his men to advance on the causeway, and try to
carry the place by storm. Nonetheless, although our men did valiantly,
advancing in good order, yet being galled on every side by the fire,
they at length fell into disorder, and were retreating with much loss,
Harrison himself valiantly bringing up the rear, and defending them as
he could against the enemy, who sallied forth in pursuit of them, to
smite them hip and thigh. Now, Colonel Everard, I am a man of a quick
and vehement temper by nature, though better teaching than the old law
hath made me mild and patient as you now see me. I could not bear to see
our Israelites flying before the Philistines, so I rushed upon the
causeway, with the Bible in one hand, and a halberd, which I had caught
up, in the other, and turned back the foremost fugitives, by threatening
to strike them down, pointing out to them at the same time a priest in
his cassock, as they call it, who was among the malignants, and asking
them whether they would not do as much for a true servant of Heaven, as
the uncircumcised would for a priest of Baal. My words and strokes
prevailed; they turned at once, and shouting out, Down with Baal and his
worshippers! they charged the malignants so unexpectedly home, that they
not only drove them back into their house of garrison, but entered it
with them, as the phrase is, pell-mell. I also was there, partly hurried
on by the crowd, partly to prevail on our enraged soldiers to give
quarter; for it grieved my heart to see Christians and Englishmen hashed
down with swords and gunstocks, like curs in the street, when there is
an alarm of mad-dogs. In this way, the soldiers fighting and
slaughtering, and I calling to them to stay their hand, we gained the
very roof of the building, which was in part leaded, and to which, as a
last tower of refuge, those of the cavaliers, who yet escaped, had
retired. I was myself, I may say, forced up the narrow winding staircase
by our soldiers, who rushed on like dogs of chase upon their prey; and
when extricated from the passage, I found myself in the midst of a
horrid scene. The scattered defenders were, some resisting with the fury
of despair; some on their knees, imploring for compassion in words and
tones to break a man's heart when he thinks on them; some were calling
on God for mercy; and it was time, for man had none. They were stricken
down, thrust through, flung from the battlements into the lake; and the
wild cries of the victors, mingled with the groans, shrieks, and
clamours, of the vanquished, made a sound so horrible, that only death
can erase it from my memory. And the men who butchered their
fellow-creatures thus, were neither pagans from distant savage lands,
nor ruffians, the refuse and offscourings of our own people. They were
in calm blood reasonable, nay, religious men, maintaining a fair repute
both heavenward and earthward. Oh, Master Everard, your trade of war
should be feared and avoided, since it converts such men into wolves
towards their fellow creatures."

"It is a stern necessity," said Everard, looking down, "and as such
alone is justifiable. But proceed, reverend sir; I see not how this
storm, an incident but e'en too frequent on both sides during the late
war, connects with the affair of last night."

"You shall hear anon," said Mr. Holdenough; then paused as one who makes
an effort to compose himself before continuing a relation, the tenor of
which agitated him with much violence. "In this infernal tumult," he
resumed,--"for surely nothing on earth could so much resemble hell, as
when men go thus loose in mortal malice on their fellow-creatures,--I
saw the same priest whom I had distinguished on the causeway, with one
or two other malignants, pressed into a corner by the assailants, and
defending themselves to the last, as those who had no hope.--I saw
him--I knew him--Oh, Colonel Everard!"

He grasped Everard's hand with his own left hand, and pressed the palm
of his right to his face and forehead, sobbing aloud.

"It was your college companion?" said Everard, anticipating the
catastrophe.

"Mine ancient--mine only friend--with whom I had spent the happy days of
youth!--I rushed forward--I struggled--I entreated.--But my eagerness
left me neither voice nor language--all was drowned in the wretched cry
which I had myself raised--Down with the priest of Baal! Slay Mattan--
slay him were he between the altars!--Forced over the battlements, but
struggling for life, I could see him cling to one of those projections
which were formed to carry the water from the leads, but they hacked at
his arms and hands. I heard the heavy fall into the bottomless abyss
below. Excuse me--I cannot go on."

"He may have escaped."

"Oh! no, no, no--the tower was four stories in height. Even those who
threw themselves into the lake from the lower windows, to escape by
swimming, had no safety; for mounted troopers on the shore caught the
same bloodthirsty humour which had seized the storming party, galloped
around the margin of the lake, and shot those who were struggling for
life in the water, or cut them down as they strove to get to land. They
were all cut off and destroyed.--Oh! may the blood shed on that day
remain silent!--Oh! that the earth may receive it in her recesses!--Oh!
that it may be mingled for ever with the dark waters of that lake, so
that it may never cry for vengeance against those whose anger was
fierce, and who slaughtered in their wrath!--And, oh! may the erring man
be forgiven who came into their assembly, and lent his voice to
encourage their, cruelty!--Oh! Albany, my brother, my brother, I have
lamented for thee even as David for Jonathan!"


[Footnote: Michael Hudson, the _plain-dealing_ chaplain of King Charles
I., resembled, in his loyalty to that unfortunate monarch, the
fictitious character of Dr. Rochecliffe; and the circumstances of his
death were copied in the narrative of the Presbyterian's account of the
slaughter of his school-fellow;--he was chosen by Charles I., along with
John Ashburnham, as his guide and attendant, when he adopted the
ill-advised resolution of surrendering his person to the Scots army.

He was taken prisoner by the Parliament, remained long in their custody,
and was treated with great severity. He made his escape for about a year
in 1647; was retaken, and again escaped in 1648. and heading an
insurrection of cavaliers, seized on a strong moated house in
Lincolnshire, called Woodford House. He gained the place without
resistance; and there are among Peck's Desiderata Curiosa several
accounts of his death, among which we shall transcribe that of Bishop
Kenneth, as the most correct, and concise:--"I have been on the spot,"
saith his Lordship, "and made all possible enquiries, and find that the
relation given by Mr. Wood may be a little rectified and supplied.

"Mr. Hudson and his party did not fly to Woodford, but had quietly taken
possession of it, and held it for a garrison, with a good party of
horse, who made a stout defence, and frequent sallies, against a party
of the Parliament at Stamford, till the colonel commanding them sent a
stronger detachment, under a captain, his own kinsman, who was shot from
the house, upon which the colonel himself came up to renew the attack,
and to demand surrender, and brought them to capitulate upon terms of
safe quarter. But the colonel, in base revenge, commanded that they
should not spare that rogue Hudson. Upon which, Hudson fought his way up
to the leads; and when he saw they were pushing in upon him, threw
himself over the battlements (another account says, he caught hold of a
spout or outstone,) and hung by the hands, as intending to fall into the
moat beneath, till they cut off his wrists and let him drop, and then
ran down to hunt him in the water, where they found him paddling with
his stumps, and barbarously knocked him on the head."--_Peck's
Desiderata Curiosa_, Book ix.

Other accounts mention he was refused the poor charity of coming to die
on land, by one Egborough, servant to Mr. Spinks, the intruder into the
parsonage. A man called Walker, a chandler or grocer, cut out the tongue
of the unfortunate divine, and showed it as a trophy through the
country. But it was remarked, with vindictive satisfaction, that
Egborough was killed by the bursting of his own gun; and that Walker,
obliged to abandon his trade through poverty, became a scorned
mendicant.

For some time a grave was not vouchsafed to the remains of this brave
and loyal divine, till one of the other party said, "Since he is dead,
let him be buried."]


The good man sobbed aloud, and so much did Colonel Everard sympathize
with his emotions, that he forebore to press him upon the subject of his
own curiosity until the full tide of remorseful passion had for the time
abated. It was, however, fierce and agitating, the more so, perhaps,
that indulgence in strong mental feeling of any kind was foreign to the
severe and ascetic character of the man, and was therefore the more
overpowering when it had at once surmounted all restraints. Large tears
flowed down the trembling features of his thin, and usually stern, or at
least austere countenance; he eagerly returned the compression of
Everard's hand, as if thankful for the sympathy which the caress
implied.

Presently after, Master Holdenough wiped his eyes, withdrew his hand
gently from that of Everard, shaking it kindly as they parted, and
proceeded with more composure: "Forgive me this burst of passionate
feeling, worthy Colonel. I am conscious it little becomes a man of my
cloth, who should be the bearer of consolation to others, to give way in
mine own person to an extremity of grief, weak at least, if indeed it is
not sinful; for what are we, that we should weep and murmur touching
that which is permitted? But Albany was to me as a brother. The happiest
days of my life, ere my call to mingle myself in the strife of the land
had awakened me to my duties, were spent in his company. I--but I will
make the rest of my story short."--Here he drew his chair close to that
of Everard, and spoke in a solemn and mysterious tone of voice, almost
lowered to a whisper--"I saw him last night."

"Saw _him_--saw whom?" said Everard. "Can you mean the person whom"--

"Whom I saw so ruthlessly slaughtered," said the clergyman--"My ancient
college friend--Joseph Albany."

"Master Holdenough, your cloth and your character alike must prevent
your jesting on such a subject as this."

"Jesting!" answered Holdenough; "I would as soon jest on my
death-bed--as soon jest upon the Bible."

"But you must have been deceived," answered Everard, hastily; "this
tragical story necessarily often returns to your mind, and in moments
when the imagination overcomes the evidence of the outward senses, your
fancy must have presented to you an unreal appearance. Nothing more
likely, when the mind is on the stretch after something supernatural,
than that the imagination should supply the place with a chimera, while
the over-excited feelings render it difficult to dispel the delusion."

"Colonel Everard," replied Holdenough, with austerity, "in discharge of
my duty I must not fear the face of man; and, therefore, I tell you
plainly, as I have done before with more observance, that when you bring
your carnal learning and judgment, as it is but too much your nature to
do, to investigate the hidden things of another world, you might as well
measure with the palm of your hand the waters of the Isis. Indeed, good
sir, you err in this, and give men too much pretence to confound your
honourable name with witch-advocates, free-thinkers, and atheists, even
with such as this man Bletson, who, if the discipline of the church had
its hand strengthened, as it was in the beginning of the great conflict,
would have been long ere now cast out of the pale, and delivered over to
the punishment of the flesh, that his spirit might, if possible, be yet
saved."

"You mistake, Master Holdenough," said Colonel Everard; "I do not deny
the existence of such preternatural visitations, because I cannot, and
dare not, raise the voice of my own opinion against the testimony of
ages, supported by such learned men as yourself. Nevertheless, though I
grant the possibility of such things, I have scarce yet heard of an
instance in my days so well fortified by evidence, that I could at once
and distinctly say, This must have happened by supernatural agency, and
not otherwise."

"Hear, then, what I have to tell," said the divine, "on the faith of a
man, a Christian, and, what is more, a servant of our Holy Church; and,
therefore, though unworthy, an elder and a teacher among Christians. I
had taken my post yester evening in the half-furnished apartment,
wherein hangs a huge mirror, which might have served Goliath of Gath to
have admired himself in, when clothed from head to foot in his brazen
armour. I the rather chose this place, because they informed me it was
the nearest habitable room to the gallery in which they say you had been
yourself assailed that evening by the Evil One.--Was it so, I pray you?"

"By some one with no good intentions I was assailed in that apartment.
So far," said Colonel Everard, "you were correctly informed."

"Well, I chose my post as well as I might, even as a resolved general
approaches his camp, and casts up his mound as nearly as he can to the
besieged city. And, of a truth, Colonel Everard, if I felt some
sensation of bodily fear,--for even Elias, and the prophets, who
commanded the elements, had a portion in our frail nature, much more
such a poor sinful being as myself,--yet was my hope and my courage
high; and I thought of the texts which I might use, not in the wicked
sense of periapts, or spells, as the blinded papists employ them,
together with the sign of the cross and other fruitless forms, but as
nourishing and supporting that true trust and confidence in the blessed
promises, being the true shield of faith wherewith the fiery darts of
Satan may be withstood and quenched. And thus armed and prepared, I sate
me down to read, at the same time to write, that I might compel my mind
to attend to those subjects which became the situation in which I was
placed, as preventing any unlicensed excursions of the fancy, and
leaving no room for my imagination to brood over idle fears. So I
methodised, and wrote down what I thought meet for the time, and
peradventure some hungry souls may yet profit by the food which I then
prepared."

"It was wisely and worthily done, good and reverend sir," replied
Colonel Everard. "I pray you to proceed."

"While I was thus employed, sir, and had been upon the matter for about
three hours, not yielding to weariness, a strange thrilling came over my
senses, and the large and old-fashioned apartment seemed to wax larger,
more gloomy, and more cavernous, while the air of the night grew more
cold and chill. I know not if it was that the fire began to decay, or
whether there cometh before such things as were then about to happen, a
breath and atmosphere, as it were, of terror, as Job saith in a
well-known passage, 'Fear came upon me, and trembling, which made my
bones to shake;' and there was a tingling noise in my ears, and a
dizziness in my brain, so that I felt like those who call for aid when
there is no danger, and was even prompted to flee, when I saw no one to
pursue. It was then that something seemed to pass behind me, casting a
reflection on the great mirror before which I had placed my
writing-table, and which I saw by assistance of the large standing light
which was then in front of the glass. And I looked up, and I saw in the
glass distinctly the appearance of a man--as sure as these words issue
from my mouth, it was no other than the same Joseph Albany--the
companion of my youth--he whom I had seen precipitated down the
battlements of Clidesbrough Castle into the deep lake below!"

"What did you do?"

"It suddenly rushed on my mind," said the divine, "that the stoical
philosopher Athenodorus had eluded the horrors of such a vision by
patiently pursuing his studies; and it shot at the same time across my
mind, that I, a Christian divine, and a Steward of the Mysteries, had
less reason to fear evil, and better matter on which to employ my
thoughts, than was possessed by a Heathen, who was blinded even by his
own wisdom. So, instead of betraying any alarm, or even turning my head
around, I pursued my writing, but with a beating heart, I admit, and
with a throbbing hand."

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