A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

Woodstock; or, The Cavalier

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




Their leader, full of anxious thoughts, never spoke, save to enforce by
whispers his caution respecting silence, while the men, surprised and
delighted to find themselves under the command of their renowned
General, and destined, doubtless, for some secret service of high
import, used the utmost precaution in attending to his reiterated
orders.

They marched down the street of the little borough in the order we have
mentioned. Few of the townsmen were abroad; and one or two, who had
protracted the orgies of the evening to that unusual hour, were too
happy to escape the notice of a strong party of soldiers, who often
acted in the character of police, to inquire about their purpose for
being under arms so late, or the route which they were pursuing.

The external gate of the Chase had, ever since the party had arrived at
Woodstock, been strictly guarded by three file of troopers, to cut off
all communication between the Lodge and the town. Spitfire, Wildrake's
emissary, who had often been a-bird-nesting, or on similar mischievous
excursions in the forest, had evaded these men's vigilance by climbing
over a breach, with which he was well acquainted, in a different part of
the wall.

Between this party and the advanced guard of Cromwell's detachment, a
whispered challenge was exchanged, according to the rules of discipline.
The infantry entered the Park, and were followed by the cavalry, who
were directed to avoid the hard road, and ride as much as possible upon
the turf which bordered on the avenue. Here, too, an additional
precaution was used, a file or two of foot soldiers being detached to
search the woods on either hand, and make prisoner, or, in the event of
resistance, put to death, any whom they might find lurking there, under
what pretence soever.

Meanwhile, the weather began to show itself as propitious to Cromwell,
as he had found most incidents in the course of his successful career.
The grey mist, which had hitherto obscured everything, and rendered
marching in the wood embarrassing and difficult, had now given way to
the moon, which, after many efforts, at length forced her way through
the vapour, and hung her dim dull cresset in the heavens, which she
enlightened, as the dying lamp of an anchorite does the cell in which he
reposes. The party were in sight of the front of the palace, when
Holdenough whispered to Everard, as they walked near each other--"See ye
not, yonder flutters the mysterious light in the turret of the
incontinent Rosamond? This night will try whether the devil of the
Sectaries or the devil of the Malignants shall prove the stronger. O,
sing jubilee, for the kingdom of Satan is divided against itself!"

Here the divine was interrupted by a non-commissioned officer, who came
hastily, yet with noiseless steps, to say, in a low stern whisper--
"Silence, prisoner in the rear--silence on pain of death."

A moment afterwards the whole party stopped their march, the word halt
being passed from one to another, and instantly obeyed.

The cause of this interruption was the hasty return of one of the
flanking party to the main body, bringing news to Cromwell that they had
seen a light in the wood at some distance on the left.

"What can it be?" said Cromwell, his low stern voice, even in a whisper,
making itself distinctly heard. "Does it move, or is it stationary?"

"So far as we can judge, it moveth not," answered the trooper.

"Strange--there is no cottage near the spot where it is seen."

"So please your Excellency, it may be a device of Sathan," said Corporal
Humgudgeon, snuffing through his nose; "he is mighty powerful in these
parts of late."

"So please your idiocy, thou art an ass," said Cromwell; but, instantly
recollecting that the corporal had been one of the adjutators or
tribunes of the common soldiers, and was therefore to be treated with
suitable respect, he said, "Nevertheless, if it be the device of Satan,
please it the Lord we will resist him, and the foul slave shall fly from
us.--Pearson," he said, resuming his soldierlike brevity, "take four
file, and see what is yonder--No--the knaves may shrink from thee. Go
thou straight to the Lodge--invest it in the way we agreed, so that a
bird shall not escape out of it--form an outward and an inward ring of
sentinels, but give no alarm until I come. Should any attempt to escape,
KILL them."--He spoke that command with terrible emphasis.--"Kill them
on the spot," he repeated, "be they who or what they will. Better so
than trouble the Commonwealth with prisoners."

Pearson heard, and proceeded to obey his commander's orders.

Meanwhile, the future Protector disposed the small force which remained
with him in such a manner that they should approach from different
points at once the light which excited his suspicions, and gave them
orders to creep as near to it as they could, taking care not to lose
each other's support, and to be ready to rush in at the same moment,
when he should give the sign, which was to be a loud whistle. Anxious to
ascertain the truth with his own eyes, Cromwell, who had by instinct all
the habits of military foresight, which, in others, are the result of
professional education and long experience, advanced upon the object of
his curiosity. He skulked from tree to tree with the light step and
prowling sagacity of an Indian bush-fighter; and before any of his men
had approached so near as to descry them, he saw, by the lantern which
was placed on the ground, two men, who had been engaged in digging what
seemed to be an ill-made grave. Near them lay extended something wrapped
in a deer's hide, which greatly resembled the dead body of a man. They
spoke together in a low voice, yet so that their dangerous auditor could
perfectly overhear what they said.

"It is done at last," said one; "the worst and hardest labour I ever did
in my life. I believe there is no luck about me left. My very arms feel
as if they did not belong to me; and, strange to tell, toil as hard as I
would, I could not gather warmth in my limbs."

"I have warmed me enough," said Rochecliffe, breathing short with
fatigue.

"But the cold lies at my heart," said Joceline; "I scarce hope ever to
be warm again. It is strange, and a charm seems to be on us. Here have
we been nigh two hours in doing what Diggon the sexton would have done
to better purpose in half a one."

"We are wretched spadesmen enough," answered Dr. Rochecliffe. "Every man
to his tools--thou to thy bugle-horn, and I to my papers in cipher.--But
do not be discouraged; it is the frost on the ground, and the number of
roots, which rendered our task difficult. And now, all due rites done to
this unhappy man, and having read over him the service of the Church,
_valeat quantum_, let us lay him decently in this place of last repose;
there will be small lack of him above ground. So cheer up thy heart,
man, like a soldier as thou art; we have read the service over his body;
and should times permit it, we will have him removed to consecrated
ground, though he is all unworthy of such favour. Here, help me to lay
him in the earth; we will drag briers and thorns over the spot, when we
have shovelled dust upon dust; and do thou think of this chance more
manfully; and remember, thy secret is in thine own keeping."

"I cannot answer for that," said Joceline. "Methinks the very night
winds among the leaves will tell of what we have been doing--methinks
the trees themselves will say, 'there is a dead corpse lies among our
roots.' Witnesses are soon found when blood hath been spilled."

"They are so, and that right early," exclaimed Cromwell, starting from
the thicket, laying hold on Joceline, and putting a pistol to his head.
At any other period of his life, the forester would, even against the
odds of numbers, have made a desperate resistance; but the horror he had
felt at the slaughter of an old companion, although in defence of his
own life, together with fatigue and surprise, had altogether unmanned
him, and he was seized as easily as a sheep is secured by the butcher.
Dr. Rochecliffe offered some resistance, but was presently secured by
the soldiers who pressed around him.

"Look, some of you," said Cromwell, "what corpse this is upon whom these
lewd sons of Belial have done a murder--Corporal Grace-be-here
Humgudgeon, see if thou knowest the face."

"I profess I do, even as I should do mine own in a mirror," snuffled the
corporal, after looking on the countenance of the dead man by the help
of the lantern. "Of a verity it is our trusty brother in the faith,
Joseph Tomkins."

"Tomkins!" exclaimed Cromwell, springing forward and satisfying himself
with a glance at the features of the corpse--"Tomkins!--and murdered, as
the fracture of the temple intimates!--dogs that ye are, confess the
truth--You have murdered him because you have discovered his treachery--
I should say his true spirit towards the Commonwealth of England, and
his hatred of those complots in which you would have engaged his honest
simplicity."

"Ay," said Grace-be-here Humgudgeon, "and then to misuse his dead body
with your papistical doctrines, as if you had crammed cold porridge into
its cold mouth. I pray thee, General, let these men's bonds be made
strong."

"Forbear, corporal," said Cromwell; "our time presses.--Friend, to
you,--whom I believe to be Doctor Anthony Rochecliffe by name and
surname, I have to give the choice of being hanged at daybreak
to-morrow, or making atonement for the murder of one of the Lord's
people, by telling what thou knowest of the secrets which are in yonder
house."

"Truly, sir," replied Rochecliffe, "you found me but in my duty as a
clergyman, interring the dead; and respecting answering your questions,
I am determined myself, and do advise my fellow-sufferer on this
occasion"--

"Remove him," said Cromwell; "I know his stiffneckedness of old, though
I have made him plough in my furrow, when he thought he was turning up
his own swathe--Remove him to the rear, and bring hither the other
fellow.--Come thou here--this way--closer--closer.--Corporal
Grace-be-here, do thou keep thy hand upon the belt with which he is
bound. We must take care of our life for the sake of this distracted
country, though, lack-a-day, for its own proper worth we could peril it
for a pin's point.--Now, mark me, fellow, choose betwixt buying thy life
by a full confession, or being tucked presently up to one of these old
oaks--How likest thou that?"

"Truly, master," answered the under-keeper, affecting more rusticity
than was natural to him, (for his frequent intercourse with Sir Henry
Lee had partly softened and polished his manners,) "I think the oak is
like to bear a lusty acorn--that is all."

"Dally not with me, friend," continued Oliver; "I profess to thee in
sincerity I am no trifler. What guests have you seen at yonder house
called the Lodge?"

"Many a brave guest in my day, I'se warrant ye, master," said Joceline.
"Ah, to see how the chimneys used to smoke some twelve years back! Ah,
sir, a sniff of it would have dined a poor man."

"Out, rascal!" said the General, "dost thou jeer me? Tell me at once
what guests have been of late in the Lodge--and look thee, friend, be
assured, that in rendering me this satisfaction, thou shalt not only
rescue thy neck from the halter, but render also an acceptable service
to the State, and one which I will see fittingly rewarded. For, truly, I
am not of those who would have the rain fall only on the proud and
stately plants, but rather would, so far as my poor wishes and prayers
are concerned, that it should also fall upon the lowly and humble grass
and corn, that the heart of the husbandman may be rejoiced, and that as
the cedar of Lebanon waxes in its height, in its boughs, and in its
roots, so may the humble and lowly hyssop that groweth upon the walls
flourish, and--and, truly--Understand'st thou me, knave?"

"Not entirely, if it please your honour," said Joceline; "but it sounds
as if you were preaching a sermon, and has a marvellous twang of
doctrine with it."

"Then, in one word--thou knowest there is one Louis Kerneguy, or
Carnego, or some such name, in hiding at the Lodge yonder?"

"Nay, sir," replied the under-keeper, "there have been many coming and
going since Worcester-field; and how should I know who they are?--my
service is out of doors, I trow."

"A thousand pounds," said Cromwell, "do I tell down to thee, if thou
canst place that boy in my power."

"A thousand pounds is a marvellous matter, sir," said Joceline; "but I
have more blood on my hand than I like already. I know not how the price
of life may thrive--and, 'scape or hang, I have no mind to try."

"Away with him to the rear," said the General; "and let him not speak
with his yoke-fellow yonder--Fool that I am, to waste time in expecting
to get milk from mules.--Move on towards the Lodge."

They moved with the same silence as formerly, notwithstanding the
difficulties which they encountered from being unacquainted with the
road and its various intricacies. At length they were challenged, in a
low voice, by one of their own sentinels, two concentric circles of whom
had been placed around the Lodge, so close to each other, as to preclude
the possibility of an individual escaping from within. The outer guard
was maintained partly by horse upon the roads and open lawn, and where
the ground was broken and bushy, by infantry. The inner circle was
guarded by foot soldiers only. The whole were in the highest degree
alert, expecting some interesting and important consequences from the
unusual expedition on which they were engaged.

"Any news, Pearson?" said the General to his aide-de-camp, who came
instantly to report to his superior.

He received for answer, "None."

Cromwell led his officer forward just opposite to the door of the Lodge,
and there paused betwixt the circles of guards, so that their
conversation could not be overheard.

He then pursued his enquiry, demanding, "Were there any lights--any
appearances of stirring--any attempt at sally--any preparation for
defence?"

"All as silent as the valley of the shadow of death--Even as the vale of
Jehosaphat."

"Pshaw! tell me not of Jehosaphat, Pearson," said Cromwell. "These words
are good for others, but not for thee. Speak plainly, and like a blunt
soldier as thou art. Each man hath his own mode of speech; and
bluntness, not sanctity, is thine."

"Well then, nothing has been stirring," said Pearson.--"Yet
peradventure"--

"Peradventure not me," said Cromwell, "or thou wilt tempt me to knock
thy teeth out. I ever distrust a man when he speaks after another
fashion from his own."

"Zounds! let me speak to an end," answered Pearson, "and I will speak in
what language your Excellency will."

"Thy zounds, friend," said Oliver, "showeth little of grace, but much of
sincerity. Go to then--thou knowest I love and trust thee. Hast thou
kept close watch? It behoves us to know that, before giving the alarm."

"On my soul," said Pearson, "I have watched as closely as a cat at a
mouse-hole. It is beyond possibility that any thing could have eluded
our vigilance, or even stirred within the house, without our being aware
of it."

"'Tis well," said Cromwell; "thy services shall not be forgotten,
Pearson. Thou canst not preach and pray, but thou canst obey thine
orders, Gilbert Pearson, and that may make amends."

"I thank your Excellency," replied Pearson; "but I beg leave to chime in
with the humours of the times. A poor fellow hath no right to hold
himself singular."

He paused, expecting Cromwell's orders what next was to be done, and,
indeed, not a little surprised that the General's active and prompt
spirit had suffered him during a moment so critical to cast away a
thought upon a circumstance so trivial as his officer's peculiar mode of
expressing himself. He wondered still more, when, by a brighter gleam of
moonshine than he had yet enjoyed, he observed that Cromwell was
standing motionless, his hands supported upon his sword, which he had
taken out of the belt, and his stern brows bent on the ground. He waited
for some time impatiently, yet afraid to interfere, lest he should
awaken this unwonted fit of ill-timed melancholy into anger and
impatience. He listened to the muttering sounds which escaped from the
half-opening lips of his principal, in which the words, "hard
necessity," which occurred more than once, were all of which the sense
could be distinguished. "My Lord-General," at length he said, "time
flies."

"Peace, busy fiend, and urge me not!" said Cromwell. "Think'st thou,
like other fools, that I have made a paction with the devil for success,
and am bound to do my work within an appointed hour, lest the spell
should lose its force?"

"I only think, my Lord-General," said Pearson, "that Fortune has put
into your coffer what you have long desired to make prize of, and that
you hesitate."

Cromwell sighed deeply as he answered, "Ah, Pearson, in this troubled
world, a man, who is called like me to work great things in Israel, had
need to be, as the poets feign, a thing made of hardened metal,
immovable to feelings of human charities, impassible, resistless.
Pearson, the world will hereafter, perchance, think of me as being such
a one as I have described, 'an iron man, and made of iron mould.'--Yet
they will wrong my memory--my heart is flesh, and my blood is mild as
that of others. When I was a sportsman, I have wept for the gallant
heron that was struck down, by my hawk, and sorrowed for the hare which
lay screaming under the jaws of my greyhound; and canst thou think it a
light thing to me, that, the blood of this lad's father lying in some
measure upon my head, I should now put in peril that of the son? They
are of the kindly race of English sovereigns, and, doubtless, are adored
like to demigods by those of their own party. I am called Parricide,
Blood-thirsty Usurper, already, for shedding the blood of one man, that
the plague might be stayed--or as Achan was slain that Israel might
thereafter stand against the face of their enemies. Nevertheless, who
has spoke unto me graciously since that high deed? Those who acted in
the matter with me are willing that I should be the scape-goat of the
atonement--those who looked on and helped not, bear themselves now as if
they had been borne down by violence; and while I looked that they
should shout applause on me, because of the victory of Worcester,
whereof the Lord had made me the poor instrument, they look aside to
say, 'Ha! ha! the King-killer, the Parricide--soon shall his place be
made desolate.'--Truly it is a great thing, Gilbert Pearson, to be
lifted above the multitude; but when one feeleth that his exaltation is
rather hailed with hate and scorn than with love and reverence--in
sooth, it is still a hard matter for a mild, tender-conscienced, infirm
spirit to bear--and God be my witness, that, rather than do this new
deed, I would shed my own best heart's-blood in a pitched field, twenty
against one." Here he fell into a flood of tears, which he sometimes was
wont to do. This extremity of emotion was of a singular character. It
was not actually the result of penitence, and far less that of absolute
hypocrisy, but arose merely from the temperature of that remarkable man,
whose deep policy, and ardent enthusiasm, were intermingled with a
strain of hypochondriacal passion, which often led him to exhibit scenes
of this sort, though seldom, as now, when he was called to the execution
of great undertakings.

Pearson, well acquainted as he was with the peculiarities of his
General, was baffled and confounded by this fit of hesitation and
contrition, by which his enterprising spirit appeared to be so suddenly
paralysed. After a moment's silence, he said, with some dryness of
manner, "If this be the case, it is a pity your Excellency came hither.
Corporal Humgudgeon and I, the greatest saint and greatest sinner in
your army, had done the deed, and divided the guilt and the honour
betwixt us."

"Ha!" said Cromwell, as if touched to the quick, "wouldst thou take the
prey from the lion?"

"If the lion behaves like a village cur," said Pearson boldly, "who now
barks and seems as if he would tear all to pieces, and now flies from a
raised stick or a stone, I know not why I should fear him. If Lambert
had been here, there had been less speaking and more action."

"Lambert! What of Lambert?" said Cromwell, very sharply.

"Only," said Pearson, "that I long since hesitated whether I should
follow your Excellency or him--and I begin to be uncertain whether I
have made the best choice, that's all."

"Lambert!" exclaimed Cromwell impatiently, yet softening his voice lest
he should be overheard descanting on the character of his rival,--"What
is Lambert?--a tulip-fancying fellow, whom nature intended for a Dutch
gardener at Delft or Rotterdam. Ungrateful as thou art, what could
Lambert have done for thee?"

"He would not," answered Pearson, "have stood here hesitating before a
locked door, when fortune presented the means of securing, by one blow,
his own fortune, and that of all who followed him."

"Thou art right, Gilbert Pearson," said Cromwell, grasping his officer's
hand, and strongly pressing it. "Be the half of this bold accompt thine,
whether the reckoning be on earth or heaven."

"Be the whole of it mine hereafter," said Pearson hardily, "so your
Excellency have the advantage of it upon earth. Step back to the rear
till I force the door--there may be danger, if despair induce them to
make a desperate sally."

"And if they do sally, is there one of my Ironsides who fears fire or
steel less than myself?" said the General. "Let ten of the most
determined men follow us, two with halberts, two with petronels, the
others with pistols--Let all their arms be loaded, and fire without
hesitation, if there is any attempt to resist or to sally forth--Let
Corporal Humgudgeon be with them, and do thou remain here, and watch
against escape, as thou wouldst watch for thy salvation."

The General then struck at the door with the hilt of his sword--at first
with a single blow or two, then with a reverberation of strokes that
made the ancient building ring again. This noisy summons was repeated
once or twice without producing the least effect.

"What can this mean?" said Cromwell; "they cannot surely have fled, and
left the house empty."

"No," replied Pearson, "I will ensure you against that; but your
Excellency strikes so fiercely, you allow no time for an answer. Hark! I
hear the baying of a hound, and the voice of a man who is quieting
him--Shall we break in at once, or hold parley?"

"I will speak to them first," said Cromwell.--"Hollo! who is within
there?"

"Who is it enquires?" answered Sir Henry Lee from the interior; "or what
want you here at this dead hour?"

"We come by warrant of the Commonwealth of England," said the General.

"I must see your warrant ere I undo either bolt or latch," replied the
knight; "we are enough of us to make good the castle: neither I nor my
fellows will deliver it up but upon good quarter and conditions; and we
will not treat for these save in fair daylight."

"Since you will not yield to our right, you must try our might," replied
Cromwell. "Look to yourselves within; the door will be in the midst of
you in five minutes."

"Look to yourselves without," replied the stout-hearted Sir Henry; "we
will pour our shot upon you, if you attempt the least violence."

But, alas! while he assumed this bold language, his whole garrison
consisted of two poor terrified women; for his son, in conformity with
the plan which they had fixed upon, had withdrawn from the hall into the
secret recesses of the palace.

"What can they be doing now, sir?" said Phoebe, hearing a noise as it
were of a carpenter turning screw-nails, mixed with a low buzz of men
talking.

"They are fixing a petard," said the knight, with great composure. "I
have noted thee for a clever wench, Phoebe, and I will explain it to
thee: 'Tis a metal pot, shaped much like one of the roguish knaves' own
sugarloaf hats, supposing it had narrower brims--it is charged with some
few pounds of fine gunpowder. Then"--

"Gracious! we shall be all blown up!" exclaimed Phoebe,--the word
gunpowder being the only one which she understood in the knight's
description.

"Not a bit, foolish girl. Pack old Dame Jellicot into the embrasure of
yonder window," said the knight, "on that side of the door, and we will
ensconce ourselves on this, and we shall have time to finish my
explanation, for they have bungling engineers. We had a clever French
fellow at Newark would have done the job in the firing of a pistol."

They had scarce got into the place of security when the knight proceeded
with his description.--"The petard being formed, as I tell you, is
secured with a thick and strong piece of plank, termed the madrier, and
the whole being suspended, or rather secured against the gate to be
forced--But thou mindest me not?"

"How can I, Sir Henry," she said, "within reach of such a thing as you
speak of?--O Lord! I shall go mad with very terror--we shall be
crushed--blown up--in a few minutes!"

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