CHAPTER IV.
CROMWELL'S IRONSIDES.
Gilbert Clayton and Harry Drury kept on their weary tramp to London, andat length reached the little village of Whitechapel, which was outsidethe city walls. They had run some risks from highwaymen and footpads;but now they thought all danger was over, for they had almost reachedtheir destination. But just as they were about to leave the village, aparty of the King's pikemen rode in, and at once seized upon thetravellers, to compel them to enter the King's service.
This was a dilemma neither of them had foreseen. To declare they were infavour of the Parliament would be the signal for their arrest astraitors to his Majesty; and to escape on any other pretext, withouttelling an actual lie, seemed equally impossible. Gilbert was seizedfirst, and asked his name and condition. The latter was not easy tocomply with, as he had left the army on account of his wounds, and wasnot at all sure that he should be received back again. He therefore gavehis former occupation--a mercer of the city of London. Harry gave his asa farmer, for although he did not look much like one, he spoke of thatbeing his occupation. After a few more questions had been asked andanswered, they were marched off to the captain of the band, who beganhis examination by asking Harry his name.
"Drury!" he repeated. "Are you one of the Hayslope Drurys?"
"My father lives at Hayslope Grange," said Harry.
"Ay, a right true and trusty servant of the King's is Master Drury. Imarvel that he has not sent you to do service for the King ere this,"said the officer.
"My father meddleth not with public matters," said Harry, pondering whatwould come next.
"I trow not, I trow not," said the soldier, shaking his head; "but Imust have a word with Master Drury on this same matter as I pass throughthe village, and I doubt not he will bid you wield your arms for KingCharles after your visit to London. You may pursue your journey now,young man; but nathless you will speed your return, for the King needstrusty men to do him service in these troublous times. But we wish notto force our friends too much in this matter, therefore will I sufferyou both to depart."
All the time he was speaking he eyed Gilbert most narrowly, as if tryingto recall where he had seen that face before, as in truth he had, forthey had met in the first battle fought between Charles and hisParliament, at Edgehill, on the borders of Warwickshire.
Gilbert remembered Captain Stanhope quite well, for he had been hisprisoner for a little while, until an exchange of prisoners took place.Long illness had, however, altered Gilbert far more than the two years'campaign had altered the captain; and he rode away, thinking his eyeshad played him false for once. Perhaps his being in the company of onewhose family was known to be so strongly attached to the royal causehelped his escape; for he could not think it possible that a Drury wouldhold any intimacy with the Claytons.
"We have had a narrow escape, Harry, and we must not stay long inLondon," said Gilbert, as they left the village, and saw the soldiersride out towards Essex; and then he told his companion of his formeracquaintance with Captain Stanhope.
Harry could not help laughing, in spite of his sorrow, and quite agreedthat their stay in London should be as short as possible. They wouldonly stay a few hours to rest, to replenish their purses, and ascertainwhere Lieutenant Cromwell was now with his army, and then hasten to joinhim. The long tramp from Essex to London in the heat and dust hadsomewhat wearied Harry, unused to such exertion; but no sooner did hehear that horses had been provided, than he was anxious to start again,and they were soon on the great road leading to Yorkshire, where LordKimbolton and his lieutenant, Cromwell, were mustering their forces.
It was sad to pass along the edge of uncultivated fields in this brightsummer weather; and yet, what encouragement was there for the farmer toplant or sow, when crops might be trodden down by the feet of horses andsoldiers, or, if allowed to ripen, to see the grain cut down by thatlawless Prince Rupert and his band of soldier-robbers. Truly the landmight be said to mourn as well as the inhabitants, although as yet theyhad not reached the scene of actual strife.
Gilbert was anxious to reach his kinsman Cromwell as soon as possible,and so pressed on with all speed, making inquiries now and then at thevillages where they slept, or of people they met on the road, as to thewhereabouts of the two armies. It seems almost incredible in these daysof rapid communication that this necessary intelligence could not befurnished in London, but that both forces lay somewhere in or nearYorkshire was the utmost Gilbert could learn about them.
A RIDE TO THE NORTH.]
The farther they travelled northwards the more people did they meet, andit soon became plain that these were many of them fugitives flying fromimpending ruin. The tales they told were of course conflicting, and intheir fright and anxiety to escape and save their families, oftenconfused. But Gilbert was able to make out that the Scots army, whichhad marched over the Border to the help of the Parliament, had been shutup in Sunderland by the Royalists under the Earl of Newcastle; but theParliamentary forces under Fairfax coming to their relief, the Earl hadretired to York, and the English and Scotch together had now laid siegeto that city.
As they drew near to Yorkshire, evidence of the commotion became stillmore apparent. The roads were strewed with beds and bedding, and variousarticles of household furniture, which the fugitives had attempted totake with them, but afterwards had thrown away; for the rumour had goneabroad that Prince Rupert was coming, and enough had been heard of hisatrocities in Cheshire and Lancashire to make the people dread hisapproach as they would the plague. At length, as they neared thebesieged city, they heard that Lord Kimbolton's army was in theneighbourhood, and Gilbert was not long in discovering the encampmentand seeking out Lieutenant Cromwell.
He warmly welcomed his young kinsman, and at once accepted his servicesand that of his companion. Harry Drury was not unused to arms. He hadbeen taught fencing as a part of his education, and would use thesinglestick, arquebus, and crossbow, while the fashion of everygentleman wearing a sword had rendered it necessary that this weaponshould be handled skilfully. The necessary drill was therefore soonlearned by Harry, and he was admitted to serve in the same corps as hisfriend.
Every addition to the army was welcome now, and the work of drilling therecruits went on all day, and often far into the night too. The life ofa soldier here in Cromwell's camp was very different from the gay sceneof revel he had sometimes heard the Royalist troopers describe. Therewas no rioting or drunkenness, no shouting or brawling, for these weresober-minded earnest men, who felt they had a real work to do, andsacrificed much in the doing of it. None had been forced to come here;but they had left home, and wife, and little ones, of their own accord,to fight their country's battles and set all England free. No wonderthat they were earnest when they thought of the dear ones far away. Theywere not like the paid soldiers of the regular army; they could notafford to trifle and lose their time in play when they might be at workpreparing for the battle; and so when not at drill, the cleaning ofarmour and furbishing of arms went on ceaselessly, and the clatter ofthis and the ring of the blacksmith's tools were broken only by thesinging of some pious hymn or the voice of one reading to his comradefrom the Word of Life. The day was begun and closed with prayer, and butfor the tramp of the sentry, when once the word of command had beengiven that all work should cease, all the camp was as quiet and still,as a sleeping village.
Harry joyfully took his share of the labour going forward; he waswilling to do anything, or bear any fatigue, to prepare himself to takepart in the expected action when Prince Rupert should show himself. Julywas drawing near now, and they had almost reached the united armiesbesieging York, and it was expected that when Prince Rupert came intothe field a battle would be fought. Scouts were sent out in alldirections to give timely notice of his approach, but they were able toreach the forces of Fairfax before he came. But, however, only just intime. On the second of July, Prince Rupert came upon them by way ofMarston Moor, but Kimbolton and his lieutenants were prepared for hiscoming.
> A desperate battle was fought, and for some time it seemed that theRoyalists must be victorious, for Prince Rupert fought with the mostdesperate bravery, driving several generals from the field, and thusdisconcerting all their plans. He tried to do the same with Cromwell'scavalry, but they kept together like an iron phalanx, and all Rupert'sdashing charges and feigned retreats failed to throw them into disorder.They were rightly named the Ironsides, for they kept the field andturned the tide of battle in favour of the Parliamentarians, and whenonce the Royalists saw that the day was lost their rout was complete.They retired from the field, leaving all their artillery, militarystores, and baggage to the enemy.
The battle of Marston Moor decided the Royalist cause in the north. Thatwas lost to Charles for ever, and there might well be hymns of rejoicingand solemn thanksgiving for the victory, for the cause of the Parliamenthad looked desperate enough only a short time before.
But in these rejoicings neither Gilbert nor Harry could take part.Gilbert had again been seriously wounded, and Harry, fighting by hisside, had shared the same fate. The news was carried to Cromwell just ashe was giving the last instructions to the messenger who was to bear thedespatches to London giving information of the victory. "Clayton andyoung Drury of Hayslope wounded!" he repeated. "I will come and see themsoon;" and then he went on giving instructions how Prince Rupert'sretreating troops should be avoided, by the messenger taking an easterlycourse through Essex, instead of following the more direct road toLondon at the risk of being robbed. Cromwell was as clever a man ofbusiness as he was a soldier, and although the nominal head of the armywas Lord Kimbolton, it was well known that the actual direction ofaffairs rested with his lieutenant, and all the men looked up to him astheir leader. Cromwell's Ironsides, as his troops were now called, wereeverywhere spoken of as having gained the battle of Marston Moor, and hewas daily rising into greater prominence, and was more frequentlyconsulted as to the general direction of affairs.
But he did not forget his young kinsman lying sick and wounded.Provision had been made for this beforehand. Medicaments--hospitalstores we should call them--had been secured, and now Cromwell wentround to see those who had been carried from that awful battle-fieldwhere four thousand lay dead. Many an arm was raised when he was seenapproaching, and many a feeble voice attempted to cheer; but Gilbert layquiet and unconscious, while Harry was talking in the delirium of fever,moaning out the one name, "Maud, Maud!" or imploring his father'sforgiveness.
Cromwell made particular inquiries into the case of each, and directedthe doctors to let the two friends be as near to each other as possiblewhen they were sensible, and this was the most he could do for them atpresent. The doctors could give no opinion as to their recovery yet, forthey were both severely wounded; but Harry's case seemed the mostdangerous, from the fever running so high.