Oliver Cromwell : an historical romance

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^CALIFORNIA

OLIVER CROMWELL :

AN

^fsiorfcal Romance.

ry i//er/erf*

EDITED

BY HORACE SMITH, ESQ.,

AUTHOR OF

"BRAMBLETYE HOUSE."

Yet is this tale, true though it be, as strange,
As full, methinks, of wild and wondrous change,
As any that the wandering tribes require,
Stretched in the desert round their evening fire ;
As any sung of old in hall or bower
To minstrel harps at midnight's witching hour.

.ROGERS'S Poeim

IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

LONDON :
HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER,

GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.

1840.

WHITING, BEAVFOHT HOl'St, STUAXD.

CROMWELL.

BOOK II.

" They have drawn to the field
Two royal armies full of fiery youth,
Of equal spirit to dare, and power to do :
So near intrench'd that 'tis beyond all hope
Of human counsel they can e'er be sever'd,
Until it be determined by the sword
Who hath the better cause ; for the success
Concludes the victor innocent, and the vanquish'd
Most miserably guilty."

MASSIKGER. — The Duke of Milan.

VOL. II.

20.*

CROMWELL.

CHAPTER I

Mai. Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there

Weep our sad bosoms empty —
Macd. Let us rather

Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men

Bestride our downfallen birthdom.

SHAKSPEARE. — Macbeth.

A YEAR had passed since Ardenne's landing

on his native shores, unfixed of purpose, and,

above all, an advocate for peace ! — a year in

which events had taken place that rendered

B 2

4 CROMWELL.

hopeless all accommodation between the hostile
parties, until one should have been proved
decidedly superior. The very day on which
the King had fled from London lest he should
witness the return of the five members to the
House, having been signalized by a most wild
and ill-digested movement of the fiery Luns-
ford, sufficiently disclosed the intentions of the
royalists by an ^attempt to seize a magazine of
arms at Kingston — Then came the treachery
of Goring — the King's fruitless effort against
Hull — the calling out of the militia, the arming
on both sides, and all the desultory skirmishes
of small parties that were occurring daily for
some months previous to the nominal com
mencement of the war.

The Queen, who had escaped to Holland,
stealing and bearing with her the crown-jewels
which were pawned at once to furnish arms,
and men and money, was setting every spring
in motion on the continent. — Rupert and Mau
rice had arrived in England, and the former was,

CROMWELL. O

on his first interview, appointed general of the
cavalry. The royal standard had been raised,
some two months past, at Nottingham, with
evil omens, and under auspices the most un
favourable — a mighty tempest having poured
its fury on the gathering of the troops, dispirited,
and few in number, and unfurnished with the
most evident and indispensable equipments of
an army — weapons, clothes, and ammunition.
The flag itself, displaying, in addition to the
wonted quarterings of England, a small escut
cheon charged with the royal bearings and
the crown, and compassed by a scroll with the
proud motto " Render his due to Caesar/' was
scarcely elevated, ere a heavier gust of wind,
accompanied with floods of rain and a fierce
crash of thunder, shivered the staff in twain
and dashed the ensign violently to the ground,
while such was the increasing fury of the tem
pest that two whole days elapsed before it
could be reared again.

Still, although by this overt act the King had

6 CROMWELL.

most unquestionably issued his appeal to the-
sword, as to the sole remaining arbiter, matters
went on but heartlessly and slowly. Each
side, averse to throw away the scabbard, paused
in grim and terrible suspense, irreconcileably
hostile to the other, yet unwilling to incur the
blame of being first to strike, or foremost to
refuse accommodation. The royal forces, far^too
weak to court the brunt of battle, aimlessly
marched and counter-marched, levying contri
butions in this place, and mustering volunteers
in that ; while the superior party of the parlia
ment, already strong enough to have surprised
and crushed the royalists at a single blow, lay
in their quarters waiting, as it would seem, till
they should muster resolution to commence
hostilities.

The truth, which has been strangely over
looked by all historians of these turbulent and
most important times, was simply this — that*
in the outset of that fearful strife, there was
but little difference between the views and

CROMWELL. 7

hopes and fears of the most eminent and up
right men of either party. How it should
ever have been fancied, much less gravely ar
gued, that the great body of the English gentry
and nobility was anxious to subvert the con
stitution, which had been freed from the arbi
trary power of the Norman princes by the sole
efforts of their order, and to erect an absolute
and unchecked despoti m, which must have
necessarily ruined their own caste, it is most
difficult indeed to comprehend or to conjecture.
Nor is it less absurd to hold, that the more
liberal peers, who, neither few in number nor
deficient in sagacity, enlisted on the people's
side, were in the least degree prepared to over
throw that ancient monarchy from which they
all derived their greatness, and to descend at
once from their exalted grade to mere equality
with their less elevated countrymen.

In simple fact, the leading men of either
party dreaded both defeat and victory, with a
nearly equal apprehension ; knowing that such

8 CROMWELL.

an overthrow befalling either host, as should'
conclude the other absolutely masters of the
game, would be most hopelessly destructive to
the liberties of England. It was then in this
spirit that the councillors of Charles, scarcely
more fearful of reverses which should deliver
them a prey to their stern foemen, than of
success which would inflame and aggravate the
monarch's native haughtiness, laboured with
all their powers to bring about some reconcilia
tion ; but in vain, their every effort being frus
trated by the imbecile insincerity and double-
dealing of their principal.

^t length, when the last hopes were quenched
of peace unbought by victory, the fiery Rupert,
who from the first had been the open advocate
of instant battle, acting with indefatigable and
almost sleepless energy, collected horses, men,
and cannon, from the northern and the midland
counties, until the royal army amounted to the
number of ten thousand — three foot brigades
under Sir Jacob Astley, and the Earl of Lindsey,

CROMWELL. v 9

an officer experienced in the wars of the Low
Countries — three dragoon regiments, to act as
horse or infantry, as need might be, under Sir
Arthur Aston — Lord Bernard Stuart command
ing the King's guards, a troupe doree composed
entirely of gentlemen whose annual incomes
are said to have exceeded the united fortunes
of all the members, who at the out-breaking of
the war were voters in both Houses — a good
park of artillery under the trusty Sir John
Heydon — and the adventurous prince (himself
a host) leading the cavalry, consisting of the
very flower of the youthful gentry, practised
in arms, and high in chivalrous and daring spirit.
Then, early in October, having resolved to strike
a blow, and anxious to give battle to his ene
mies, the King marched hastily from Shrewsbury
upon the capital.

Meantime the Earl of Essex, who had been

recently appointed by the parliament their gene-

ral-in-chief, left the metropolis with an army,

some fifteen thousand strong, more thoroughly

B 3

10 CROMWELL.

equipped and better armed than were the gen
tlemen of the opposing host ; but far inferior to
them in that sustained and burning spirit which
is of more avail than tenfold numbers in the day
of battle. The earl's instructions were to tender
to the King a joint petition of the Houses, be
seeching him to leave the gathering of malig-
nants, whose ill counsels had so far prevailed to
alienate him from his loving subjects, and to
repair at once to the vicinity of his most loyal
parliament; and, in the case that this petition
should prove of none effect, to rescue him by
force of arms from the foul traitors who sur
rounded and misled him. To this intent he was
provided with all the requisites that constitute
an army — a heavy train of well-arranged artil
lery, with ammunition and supplies of all kinds in
profuse abundance — a powerful brigade of horse
under the Earl of Bedford, and Sir William Bal-
four ; and a picked body of the London train
bands, well disciplined and admirably well ap
pointed.

CROMWELL. 11

Among the numerous nobles who accompa
nied the general of the parliament, two perhaps
merit an especial notice, the young Lords Roch-
fort and Fielding — as being destined soon to
meet, as foemen in the shock of battle, their own
fathers, the Earls of Dover and of Denbigh, who
were enrolled as volunteers in the King's guard of
horse. Many there were indeed in this array who
yielded not in spirit or in valour to the proudest
cavalier of Charles, many who panted for the
onset with all the patriotic zeal of freemen tram
pled and oppressed, with all the bitter and fana
tic rancour of religious prejudice, and these were
more than matches for the best of Rupert's sol
diery. — But more were doubtful, and reluctant,
and affected by the cold and backward spirit
of their leaders, who felt perhaps a secret appre
hension that, in battling for the liberty and con
stitution of their land, they might in some degree
be warring with the interests of their order. Jfr

Such was the aspect of affairs, and such the
state of parties, when on a brilliant morning
toward the last days of October, a gallant

12 CROMWELL.

regiment of horse was winding through the
deep green lanes and devious woodlands of
Northampton, towards the small town of
Keinton, distant perhaps some twenty miles,
at which it was beginning to be understood
that Essex had established his head-quar
ters. An animating spectacle they formed as
they gleamed out, or disappeared among the
lofty hedges and dense coppices, still glorious
in the leafy garniture of unchanged autumn,
their polished armour glinting back the cloudless
sunshine in long and dazzling flashes, their colours
fluttering in the cheerful breeze, their videttes wa
rily surveying every thicket, the matches of their
arquebuses ready kindled, and their extended
lines sweeping along the irregular wood-roads in
serpentine and wavy order, or pausing at each
brook or dell — where they might possibly be set
upon at disadvantage until their advanced guard
should fall back with tidings that their path was
unobstructed — and varying their array from open
file to solid column as the nature of the ground
might dictate.

CROMWELL. 13

The leader of this splendid body, was a fine-
looking figure in the prime of life, well-formed
and stately, and far above the ordinary height

of men. He wore a military coat of strong buff

i
leather, garnished with fringe of tawney silk

three inches broad, and loops of golden braid?
partially covered by a breast-plate, with its
corresponding back-piece, polished till they
shone bright as silver. He had no gorget, but
a rich cravat of Flanders lace with long trans
parent ends half veiling the clear steel on which
it fell. His dark curled hair flowed down his
neck beneath the rim of a steel cap, or morion,
exquisitely damasked but without crest or fea
ther ; his hands were guarded by high gauntlets,
and his lower limbs by breeches of the same
material similarly ornamented with his cassoc
and strong jack-boots, that would have set
a sabre-cut at nought. His sword, a two-edged,
basket-hilted rapier of uncommon length, hung
from an orange-coloured scarf, betokening his
adherence to the parliament — its army having

14 CROMWELL.

adopted for their badge that colour from the .
the ancient liveries of Essex, as the cavaliers
had assumed for their distinctive uniform, black
feathers, and blue shoulder-knots — although the
fashion of his garments and the general bearing
of the wearer were more in character with the
demeanour and the principles of their opponents,
than of those stern and gloomy fanatics, who
are so generally and so erroneously believed to
have composed the great numerical strength of
the liberal, or, to speak more justly, constitional
party. The animal he rode, a mare of splendid
action symmetry and size, was evidently a prac
tised charger, and accoutred as became one, with
demipique and holsters, and all that goes to the
equipment of a war-horse.%

In these minutise, no less than in the accurate
array and perfect discipline of the tall hardy-
looking youths, who rode along behind him in
the strictest silence — in the condition and the
bitting of the horses — and above all in the cool
intelligence with which he listened to the vary-

CROMWELL. 15

ing reports of his subordinates ; the quick deci
sive firmness which made known, and the prompt
energy which carried out his orders, — might be
discovered at a glance the officer of many
actions — the soldier on whose mind no lesson of
experience had been lost, until his very nature
was no more the same ; that which was once an
effort — once the result of intricate and thought
ful calculation, arising now from an intuitive
foreknowledge, more like the wondrous instinct
of an animal than the deep reasoning combina
tions of a man !

It lacked perhaps an hour of noon, when this
detachment having extricated itself, without so
much as hearing of an enemy, from the wide ex
tent of woodland, portions of which may still be
seen in the adjacent counties of Huntingdon
and Bedford, had reached the summit of a con
siderable eminence ; which falling away steeply
toward the west commanded an extensive view
over the velvet pastures of Northampton,
checkered with corn-fields and dark tracts of

16 CROMWELL.

fallow — with many a whitewashed cottage peer?
ing from out the foliage of its orchards, and
many a village steeple with its mossy graves
and tufted yew-trees, and here and there some
castellated mansion scarce seen amid its sha
dowy plantations — stretching away till they
were bounded far to westward by the blue hills
of Warwickshire.

Just on the brow of the declivity there stood
a large and isolated farm with stabling and out
houses sufficient to accommodate a hundred
head of cattle, upon the green before which the
leader of the party drew his bridle, and, after a
quick glance across the champaign at his feet,
and another toward the sun which had already
passed its height, entering the dwelling, he held
short consultation with the sturdy yeoman who
possessed the fertile acres.

Before five minutes had elapsed, he issued
from the lowly doorway, ordering his party to
dismount and pile their arms, and take what
brief refreshment the farm-house might offer

CROMWELL. 17

during an hour's halt. A hasty bustle followed,
as down the troopers sprang with jingling spur
and scabbard, and merriment suppressed no
longer by the rigid discipline enforced upon the
march. No oaths, however, or profane and
godless clamours were heard, disgracing equally
the officers who tolerated and the men who
uttered them. Gaiety there was, and decent
sober mirth, but nought of boisterous, much less
licentious revelling :— videttes were stationed on
commanding points, patroles detailed — and
then, the horses picketed and well supplied
with provender, fires were lighted and canteens
produced with all their savory stores ; and the
men, stretched at length on the smooth green
sward, chatted and laughed as gaily over their
hurried meal, as though they were engaged in
some exciting sylvan exercise, and not in the
tremendous toil of warfare.

The hour allotted for their stay had well-nigh
passed — when from their further outpost a
horseman galloped in, bloody with spurring,

18 CROMWELL.

and, making way through the scattered groups,
flung his rein heedlessly upon his charger's neck,
and turned him loose before the door, while with
an air betokening the consciousness of high
bearing and stern intelligence he hastened to
convey his tidings to his officer.

There needed not, however, words to tell the
men that danger was at hand. A moment's
anxious gaze at the vidette, and the jest ceased,
the flagon was suspended ere it reached the
thirsty lip, the laugh was not laughed out.
Another moment, and the fires were all deserted
— the remnants of the meal laid hastily aside —
horses recruited by their feed were bridled,
swords buckled on, and helmets braced, and
firearms inspected ; and, ere their leader came
again among them in anxious conversation with
the messenger — they waited to mount, only till
the ready trumpets should sound boot and
saddle !

" Get you to horse !" — he said — " Get you to
horse, as silently as may be ! But spare your

CROMWELL. 19

breath" — he added, turning abruptly to the
bugler, who was already handling his instru
ment — " till it be needed for a charge, which, an
we be so lucky as I deem we are, we may make,
and right early. Sir Edmund Winthrop, have
your men into line as speedily as may be ; but
move not, until further signal! My charger,
Anderton, and let a Serjeant's guard mount in
stantly ! — I go to reconnoitre — a bugler with
the subaltern ! — Steady, men, steady !" — and,
without further pause, he leaped into the saddle,
and, followed by the small detachment, gal
loped at a fierce pace down the hill- side, rugged
and broken as it was, in company with the
patrole who had brought in the tidings.

Close to the bottom of the hill, whereon the
troops were halting, there ran a deep and hollow
gorge, cutting across the road, which they had
kept thus far, directly at right angles, and
screened from observation on the upper side by
a long straggling belt of furze and underwood,
with here and there a huge and weather-beaten

20 CROMWELL.

dak or glossy beech, forming the outskirts of 'a
heavy mass of forest that fringed for several
miles in length, the extreme left of the level
country across which their line of march would
lead them. Through this gorge, as the sentinel
reported, a powerful force of cavalry was moving
toward the high road, at scarcely two miles
distance, but whether friends or foes he might
not, as he said, determine.

Checking his charger at the junction of the
roads, the officer dismounted, and taking off his
headpiece, lest its glitter should betray him,
stole forward through the trees to a high sand
stone bluff commanding the whole gorge. From
this he instantly discovered the approaching
troops, who had so nearly come upon him un
awares. There were at least five hundred horse
in view, all cuirassiers completely cased in
steel, escorting, as it seemed, a strong brigade
of field artillery. When first they had been
seen by the vidette they were emerging from
the forest-land alluded to before ; and had

CROMWELL. 21

attempted, as he said, a cross-road visible from
the hill-side ; but it had proved so miry, as he
judged from the slow progress of the guns, that
they had countermarched, and were advancing
steadily, as now beheld, under the guidance of
a countryman who rode beside their leader,
toward the sandy gorge by which they evidently
hoped to gain the practicable road.

Earnestly did the wary partisan gaze on the
glittering columns, searching their movements,
and examining their dress and arms with eager
scrutiny, and ever and anon sweeping the coun
try in their rear with an inquiring glance, that
seemingly expected further indications from that
quarter. But it was all in vain. The regiment
in view wore neither scarfs nor any badge that
might inform him of their politics or party — their
colours were all furled around their staves and
cased in oil-skin — and all, from which he might
in anywise conjecture of which host they formed
a portion, was the exact and veteran discipline
their movements indicated — far too exact, as he
supposed, from the reports prevailing through

CROMWELL.

the country, for the tumultuary levies of the
puritans.

The hollow way on which they were advanc
ing opened at a mile's distance on the plain, and
it appeared that the new-comers were about to
enter it, unthinking of surprise, and confident,
perhaps, in their own power.

"If they be foes, we have them \" cried the
partisan. " Back, Anderton, back to the regi
ment — ride for your life ! — Tell Armstrong to
lead down three troops, dismounted, with their
arquebuses ready, *and their matches [lighted,
beneath the cover of yon dingle, on the hill
side, till he shall reach this gorge, then line it
with his musketry ! Let Anstruther wheel, with
three more, about yon round-topped hillock — in
half an hour he may debouche upon the plain —
or sooner if he hear our shot — and charge upon
the rear of yon horse regiment — they will be in
the trap ere then ! Sir Edmund Winthrop will
lead down the rest by the same road we came —
I tarry for him ! away ! Be swift and silent !
Away ! for more than life is on your speed !''

CROMWELL. 23

And with the word the subaltern dashed
furiously away, spurning the pebbles high into
the air at every bound, and instantly was lost to
sight behind the angle of the sandy banks ;
while he who had commanded, after another
wistful gaze toward the approaching squadron,
returned with leisurely and quiet steps to
his good charger. With his own hand he drew
the girths more tight, looked to each strap and
buckle of the rein and stirrups, patted her
arched crest with a fleeting smile, and mounting
rode with half a dozen followers sharply along
the gorge, as if to meet the strangers, who now
seemed disposed to pause upon the plain and
reconnoitre, ere they should enter a defile so
perilous and narrow.

Just at this moment — while a score or two of
troopers rode out from the advanced guard of
the horse which had now halted, and warily
dispersing themselves among the broken ground
began to beat the thickets with deliberate and
jealous scrutiny — a low, stern hum arose from
the dark corps of cuirassiers — increasing still

24 CROMWELL.

and swelling on the ear, till it was clearly
audible for a full mile around, a burst of deep-
toned manly voices — harsh perhaps in them
selves and tuneless, but harmonized by distance,
and the elastic atmosphere on which they
floated, till they were blent at last into a solemn
and melodious sound. Louder they rose and
louder on the breeze, and now were answered
by a faint echo from out the dim aisles of the
forest in their rear, among the leafy screens of
which the arms and standards of another and
another band might fitfully be seen to glitter.
It was the soul-inspiring crash of sacred music,
the peal of choral voices untaught and undi
rected save by the impulse of a thousand hearts
attuned to one high key of patriotic piety —
unmixed with instruments of wind or string — a
deep sonorous diapason — the soldier's an
them to the God of Battles and the Lord of
Hosts!

" Arise ! arise I" the mighty sound went
forth, its every syllable distinctly audible to the
excited listener —

CROMWELL. 25

' Arise ! — arise ! oh God— our God arise !
Ride on in night, in terror, and renown —
A kindling flame, their nobles to consume —
A two-edged sword, to smite their princes down !

" Thou, that dost break the arrows and the bow —
Thou, that dost knap the ashen spear in sunder —
Thou, Lord of Hosts, that gavest the horse his strength,
And clothed'st the volume of his neck in thunder—

*' Be thou our rock — our fortress of defence —
Our horn of safety, in whose strength we trust —
So shall their hosts be chaff before the wind —
So shall their thousands grovel in the dust !

" So shall our feet be crimson with their blood —
Their tongues our dogs shall purple with the same —
The fowls of air shall have them for a spoil —
Their pride shall be a mock— a curse their name !

•« For not in armour, nor the winged force
Of chargers do we hope— but only see
Thee, by whose aid their vauntings to outspeed —
Most merciful ! — most mighty '.—only Thee !"

Scarce had the first sounds reached the
leader's ear, before he checked his mare ab
ruptly — "Walters," he cried at once, "away

VOL, II. C

26 CROMWELL.

with you, and overtake him ere he gain the
regiment ! These be no enemies, but friends !
Let not a troop descend from the hill-side — bid
them await me, as they be, in order ! — spare not
your spurs, nor fear to spoil your horseflesh — we
have no time to lose ! I well had deemed," he
added, muttering to himself, after the orderly
had galloped off with his commands, "I well
had deemed their rear was many a mile ad
vanced past this ere now. Pray Heaven, that
Essex lack not men to hold the King in check,
as he is like to do, if that this news be sooth
how he hath gathered head toward Keinton and
Edgehill !"

Without further words, he hastened down the
road, to be, as soon as he had cleared the first
projection of the broken banks, discovered by
the reconnoitring party in advance. A dozen
carbines were presented on the instant, at a short
range—" Stand-ho !"

" Friends ! friends !" he shouted in reply, but
without altering his pace, "can you not see our

CROMWELL. 27

colours," waving his orange scarf abroad, as he
closed with the foremost trooper.

" Stand, friend, then !— if that friend you be
— stand, friend, and give the word !" returned
the other gruffly — " Stand ! or I do profess that
I will shoot— yea ! shoot thee to the death !"

" How now, thou peevish knave," replied the
officer in high and ireful tones, "recover in
stantly thy carbine— marshal me straight unto
the leader of yon horse ! Who is he that com
mands them ?"

For | a moment's space the grim parlia
mentarian stubbornly gazed upon the fea
tures of the gallant who addressed him, as
if reluctant to obey his mandate, but then
a gleam of recognition flashed across his
sunburnt features. " I crave your pardon/' he
said, half abashed, "it is, an I mistake not,
Lieutenant-colonel Ardenne, of the Parlia
ments 1"

" Lead on, then, sirrah ! since thou knowest
me," interrupted Edgar, shortly, " lead on, an
c2

28 CROMWELL.

thou wouldst not repent it — and tell me who
commands yon horse brigade ?"

" Stout Colonel Cromwell," answered the
soldier more respectfully, " stout and courageous
Colonel Cromwell ! He will, I do believe, re
joice at this encounter. This way, good sir,
yonder he sits on the black horse beside the
standard, awaiting our return. Lo you, he sees
us, and the files move onward!"

And he spoke truly, for as the cavalry
perceived the videttes moving orderly and
slowly back they filed off, troop succeeding
troop, toward the entrance of the lane, advanc
ing on a gentle trot in regular and beautiful
array. As they passed Ardenne, many a scruti
nizing eye perused his figure and equipments,
and in most instances a sanctified and solemn
sneer disturbed the dark repose of their grave
features — called up, as it would seem, by the
rich dress and courtly air of the young officer,
which in their wonted parlance were denounced
as "fleshly lusts that war against the soul/7

CROMWELL. 29

devices of the evil one, fringes, phylacteries, and
trappings of the beast.

Nor, in the meanwhile, did Edgar turn a
heedless or incurious glance toward those with
whom, discarding friends and kindred, birth
right, and rank, and chivalrous association, as
things of small avail compared to the great
common weal, he had now cast his lot for ever.
The first emotion of his mind was deep anxiety
— the second wonder — and the third unqualified
and unmixed admiration. Never he thought, in
Germany or France, never among the veteran
legions of the Lion of the North, the Protestant
Gustavus, had he beheld superior discipline, or
men more soldier-like and promising. Mounted
on strong black chargers, of full sixteen hands in
height, their furniture of the most simple kind,
but well designed and in the best condition —
their iron panoply, corslet and helm and taslets,
stainless and brilliant— and above all, their
bearing and demeanour — their seats upon their
horses, firm yet easy — their muscular and well-

30 CROMWELL.

developped limbs — their countenances full x>f
resolution and breathing all — despite the differ
ence of individual character, and the various
operations of the same affection on minds of
different bias — a strange expression of religious
sentiment — solemn in some, and stern, or even
sullen — in others wild, fanatical, exalted, and
triumphant — yet in all more or less apparent as
evidently forming the great spring and motive of
their action.

Still, though attentive in the first degree to
the essential rules of military discipline, keep
ing an accurate and well-dressed front, and,
managing their heavy chargers with precision,
there was not any of that deep respectful silence
among these military saints which Edgar had
been used to look for in the strictly-ordered
service of the Netherlands, and to esteem a
requisite of soldiership; — but on the contrary,
as every troop rode past him, there was a con
stant hum, suppressed indeed and low, but still
distinctly audible, of conversation ; and he might

CROMWELL. 31

mark the knotted brows and clenched hands of
the vehement disputers, arguing — as it would
seem from the decided gestures, and the texts
which he occasionally caught, lending an ele
vated savour to their homely language, and
more than all from the continual appeal to the
well-worn and greasy bibles which each of these
stern controversialists bore at his girdle — on
questions of religious discipline, or points of
abstruse doctrine.

Although this mixture of the soldier and
religionist, this undue, and, as it seemed to him,
irreverend blending of things good and holy
with the dreadful trade of blood, jarred painfully
on his correct and feeling mind, he could not
but acknowledge that this dark spirit of re-
lio-ious zeal, this confidence in their own over-

o *

weening righteousness, this fixed unwavering
belief that they were the elected and predestined
instruments of the Most High — " to execute,"
as he could hear them cry aloud, " vengeance
upon the Heathen, and punishment upon the

32 CROMWELL.

people ! To bind their kings in chains, and
their nobles in fetters of iron !"

Here was indeed a mighty and effective agent
to oppose that chivalrous enthusiastic bravery,
that loyal self-devoting valour, which inflamed the
highborn army of the cavaliers to deeds of noble
daring. Nor did he entertain a doubt, when he
perceived the extraordinary person who com
manded them occupied in preaching, or ex
pounding rather the mysterious prophecies of
the Old Testament — to which especially the
puritans inclined their ear — to an attentive knot
of officers, grouped, some upon their horses, and
yet more dismounted, around the regimental
standard, — but that he had some reason far
more cogent than mere feelings of devotion for
thus encouraging a spirit so unusual in the
breasts of his stout followers.

The colonel — for to such rank had Cromwell
recently been elevated, more even in considera
tion of the powerful and trusty regiment which
he had levied from the freeholders and yeomanry

CKOMWELL. 33

of Huntingdon by his own personal and private
influence, than of his services performed
already, not either few or inconsiderable, keeping
the cavaliers in check, surprising many of their
leaders, anticipating all their meditated risings,
and cutting off all convoys whether of money or
munitions, throughout the counties of the
Eastern association — the colonel, as he met the
eye of Ardenne, was seated on his powerful
black war-horse, bestriding him, as it would
seem, with giant strength and perfect mastery
of leg and hand, but with an air wholly unmili-
tary and devoid of ease or grace — sheathed
nearly cap-a-pie in armour of bright steel,
heavy and exquisitely finished, but utterly
without relief or ornament of any kind. A
band or collar of plain linen with a broad
hem fastened about his short herculean neck
varied alone the stern simplicity of his attire.
No feather waved above his low and graceless
casque — no shoulder-knot or scarf bedecked his
weapon, which was girt about his middle, by a
c 3

34 CROMWELL.

belt of buff three inches at least in width, and
balanced on the right side by a formidable
dudgeon and the brass-bound case of the
familiar bible, which he now held extended in
his left hand, while with the finger of his right
he vehemently smote the open pages at each
emphatic pause of his discourse.

Cromwell's features showed not now so san
guine or so kindled as when Ardenne last beheld
them ; but on the contrary there was a mild
half-veiled expression about the heavy eye, and
though the lines were strong and marked as
ever, there was more of deliberate and quiet
resolution than of imperiousness denoted by the
firmness of his mouth. It was the countenance
he thought of a calm visionary, pensive and
meditative in his mood, and rather steady in the
maintenance of his own fixed opinions, than
zealous to prescribe or controvert the fancies or
the rights of others.

But Edgar had little time for noting the
expression, changed as he fancied it to be, of

CROMWELL. 35

his superior — much less for marking the diverse
features of the martial auditors — for, as he drew
nigh to the spot whereon they stood, Cromwell
had ended his discourse, and with a word or
two of military precept was dismissing his at
tendants to their several stations. Several
dashed past him as he rode up to the little emi
nence on which the colours were erected, and
but two were waiting near the colonel when he
reached him — one, a bull-necked, coarse-fea
tured, and ungainly-looking person with a gay
feather in his morion, a tinsel tassel on his
rapier's hilt, and a falling collar of some low-
priced lace hanging above his gorget ; — the
other an erect and well-made man, not past the
prime of youth, with features singularly noble
and expressive, though of an almost Spanish
swarthiness, a*nd tinctured with a deep and
melancholy gravity.

" Ha ! Master Ardenne \" exclaimed Oliver,
his eye joyfully flashing as he recognized him —
" Right glad am I to see you — not carnally, nor

36 CROMWELL.

with a worldly-minded and selfish pleasure, but
in that there will be work to do anon, in which
the righteous cause shall need all arms of its
supporters ! Have you a power at hand? — Where
be they — in what force? — Not travel-worn, I
trust me I"

" Three hundred horse," Edgar replied, " on
the height yonder — but for those trees you
might behold them where we stand ! — I left
them but just now to reconnoitre your advance,
under Sir Edward Winthrop my lieutenant."

" Good ! good !" cried Cromwell eagerly,
" and how far have you marched to-day — be
your men travel-toiled — your steeds leg-weary '?
— for verily we have a march before us."

" We have but travelled six brief miles this
forenoon — and barely sixteen yesterday — my
men are in right spirits, and my horses fresh !
I could accomplish twenty miles ere nightfal,
and that without fatigue \"

" Surely the Lord is gracious," was the an-
sv\er, •'•' itiid of His grace too shall we right soon

CROMWELL. 37

make trial. My Lord of Essex hath ere now his
post at Keinton — and the man Charles Stuart
hath at length mustered head to face him. 'Tis
marvel that they be not at it even now. I fear
me the lord-general shall lack both horse and
cannon, but we have marched already a sore
distance with our ponderous guns and heavy
armature, nor may I now adventure to press on
more hastily without dispersing my command*
Ride with me to your regiment, good sir — I trow
you were best speedily move forward. — Keinton
is barely twelve miles distant, and the roads,
they tell me, sound and passable."

As he spoke, touching his charger lightly
with the spur, he broke into a managed canter.

" Cornet, advance your colours/' he exclaimed
in short keen accents, strangely at variance with
the monotonous and inexpressive tones of his
discourse when unexcited ; "Sound kettledrums,
and march !" and riding briskly forward easily
passed the troops while filing through the lane ;

38 CROMWELL.

" Halt them here, Ireton," he said to the dark-
favoured officer who had accompanied him, as he
turned into the main road having outstripped the
forces ; " Halt them in column, here, within
the lane till I return — and Desborough, do
thou ride back to Hampden's regiment of foot —
it is a mile or so in the rear — and bid him bring
it up as rapidly as may be — now, Master
Ardenne, I attend you !"

As they rode up to Edgar's quarters, Crom
well informed him briefly and with none of those
prolix and verbose sentences, with which he was
at times accustomed to confuse the senses of his
hearers, that he, as senior officer, and therefore
in command of the brigade forming Lord Essex's
rear-guard, was marching up at his best pace
with his own trusty cavalry, and two — the
stoutest — of the Parliament's foot regiments,
beside a strong division of field guns — that by
want of intelligence the general — as he had
learned himself but yesterday — was hastening

CROMWELL. 39

right upon the King, and, he was fearful, would
fall unawares, and unprepared for battle, upon
his very outposts.

" These tidings I received of a sure hand,"
he added, " though whence it needeth not to
advertize you— Whom the Lord listeth to en
lighten surely at hi$ own time shall he inform
him. But so it is — and it may be that Essex
knoweth not his peril ! — Wherefore I pray you
— Ha ! be these your men ? — I do profess to you
I hold them stout and soldierly — not like the
drunken tapsters and vile turn-coat serving men,
who (fy on it ! that I should say so) do com
pose the bulk of our array ! Truly these fellows
shall do credit to the cause — so that the spirit —
the right leaven be toward — and the Lord strike
on our side ! — Wherefore I pray you lead them,
as swiftly as you find consistent with order,
upon Keinton. — If that they have not yet joined
battle, say thus to the lord-general, that I be
seech him hold off from them so long as he may

40 CROMWELL.

— I shall be with him by nine of to-morrow's
clock. Ha ! — heard you nothing ?"

He broke off abruptly, as a deep distant
sound rolled heavily upon the air, and before
Ardenne might reply, the sullen rumbling was
again repeated, like the faint muttering of a
rising thunderstorm or the premonitory growling
of an earthquake.

" It was not thunder !" answered Edgar, but
in the voice of one asserting, rather than ques
tioning — " there are no clouds aloft, nor yet on
the horizon \"

" Ordnance \" exclaimed the other — " Ord
nance — and heavier too than ours ! — Listen, now
listen!'' — And again the heavy rolling sound
came surging down the wind, which freshened
slightly from the westward — again it came, after
a momentary pause, yet louder than before and
more distinct, and then continued without inter
val the deep unquestionable voice of a hot can
nonade.

CROMWELL. 41

" Away, sir — God go with you !" cried the
stern puritan, excited now beyond the bounds of
self-restraint; " Tarry not on the way, nor
loiter ! Gird up your loins, I say— Ride on ! —
ride on, and conquer! Verily, but that it is
the Lord's own doing, verily, Edgar Ardenne, I
would have envied thee thy fortune. Ride on ! —
thou shalt be yet in time. Ride on — Amen!
Selah !"

While he yet spoke, the officers and men,
stirred up already by the near sound of battle,
and almost maddened with excitement by the
exulting and prophetic cries of Cromwell, were
vieing with each other, these to give forth, those
to obey, and almost to anticipate, the needful
orders — and as he uttered the last words at the
full pitch of his piercing voice, the trumpets
rang a thrilling flourish — the squadron, with a
single shout, unbidden and unanimous, that
spoke the burning feelings of the troopers, swept
on at a hard trot, and in an instant not a sound
wac +<-» V>p heard save the thick- beating clatter

CROMWELL.

of the hoofs, mixed with the clang of spur and
scabbard, and now and then a boom of the deep
kettledrum timing the pace of the advance.

Onward ! onward they hurried at the utmost
speed which prudence would admit, and which
nothing but the admirable quality and high
condition of their chargers enabled them to
prosecute. Mile after mile was passed, and
still the dull and awful roar — the knell of many
a gallant spirit — waxed clearer and more clear.

Having accomplished seven miles within the
hour, they halted for ten minutes in a small
hamlet to water and to breathe their horses,
and there — when the confused and constant
noise of their own rapid march was silent — :
they might distinguish the first sharp explosion
of the leading gun in every rolling volley — and
ever and anon, between the deep-mouthed can
non, the grinding rattle of the musketry was
audible, though faintly.

Onward ! onward again, and ere another hour
elapsed, Ardenne had marked the clouds of

CROMWELL.

43

smoke surging and eddying above the distant
hills. The squadron cleared the verge of a low
eminence ; a gentle valley slept below them in
the still misty radiance of a rich autumnal sun
set; a tranquil stream wound through it, crossed
by a lofty one-arched bridge, built, as was evi
dent from the bright ripples of the ford beside
it, merely for use in times of wintry flood, and
to the left, at a short mile above the bridge,
nestled the whitewashed cottages of a neat
country village. The ridge which bounded this
fair dale toward the west, though cultivated at
the base, and checkered with dark woods and
golden stubbles, lay bare toward the rounded
summits in unenclosed and open sheep-walks.
Above these summits the volumes of smoke rose
white as fleeces of the purest wool, and scarce
less solid to the eye, relieving every object on
the brow, as plainly as though it had stood out
against a clear horizon ; while all the mingled
din of battle rolled up, a near and fearful con
trast to the sweet peace of that secluded spot.

44 CROMWELL.

Just as they gained a fair view of the valley
arid the heights beyond, a single figure crossed
the opposite swell, dark and distinctly seen; a
horseman on a furious gallop ! — as he descended,
a slant sunbeam glanced upon his iron head
piece — he was a trooper — flying ! — another
rushed across the ridge — another, and another —
a confused and panic-stricken group.

" Forward ! — secure the passage of the stream
— Forward ! Ho ! Forward \" and at a yet more
rapid pace they plunged down the descent;
they reached the causeway of the bridge — they
lined the banks with their arquebusiers, and
waited the arrival of the fugitives. On came
the first, urging his jaded steed, but urging him
in vain — his sword was gone — his holsters empty
— his butf coat soiled and splashed with many
a miry stain. His spurs alone were bloody.,

Long ere he reached the bridge, Ardenne's
quick eye had caught the orange scarf, and he
rode forth alone to meet him. At first the
fugitive drew up his horse, as though he would

CROMWELL. 45

have turned, but a fresh roar of cannon from
behind decided him. " All's lost !— all's lost !"
—he cried— "all's lost— Fly ! fly! Rupert is
close behind \"

" Silence, for shame !" — shouted the partisan
— " coward and slave, be silent, or I cleave thee
to the earth ! If all be lost, why rages yon hot
cannonade ? — How far from this to the field ?"

" A short three miles/' replied the other,
trembling and fearful no less of new acquaint
ance, than of the foes he fled. Meanwhile on
came the rest — all panic-striken, travel-soiled
and weaponless ; but not one man was wounded.

"The cowards!" — Edgar muttered, as if
carelessly, when he rejoined his men, fearful
lest they might be disheartened. " The vile
dastard hounds ! that fled without blow stricken,
or blood drawn ! But that 'twere loss of time,
I would draw out a file for execution. We will
advance, and win more easily, that none are left
to cumber us with heartless counsels ! Fly on,
ye dogs" — he said more loudly, as he wheeled

46 CROMWELL.

his men once more into their column — " Fly on,
and pray, the while ye fly, that ye meet not
with Cromwell on your route, else shall ye but
repent that the cavaliers made not an end of ye
before your race began, for, an I know him, he
will cut it right short with a halter or a volley \"

And with a scornful laugh he cantered on,
eager to gain the vantage of the hill, and seeing
at a glance that no more runaways poured
over it.

" It cannot be" — he said to his lieutenant, —
" it cannot be, that the day goes utterly against
us, else how should these have fled three miles
from the encounter, and still the firing on both
sides continue ? Continue ? — said I, — nay, but
it waxes warmer !"

They reached the summit of the ridge, and,
at first sight, Edgar indeed believed that all
was over. A long broad valley lay outstretched
beneath him, that might almost be called a
plain — the foreground scattered thick with
groups of roundheads, flying — here singly, here

CROMWELL. 47

in bodies — to the south toward the town of
Keinton, in a line nearly parallel to the range
of heights on which he stood, while in the
middle distance he might see a torrent of dis
persed pursuing cavalry with flaunting plumes
and fluttering scarfs, swords brandished to the
sun, and pistol shots all redly flashing out
through the dense smoke, as unrelentingly they
urged the massacre. But as he looked more
stedfastly upon the scene, he could distinguish,
at some two or three miles3 distance toward the
northern verge of the unbroken valley, two
dark uninterrupted lines whence rose the smoke,
and burst the vivid flashes of artillery, with un-
diminished vigour; he could discern, between
the cloudy screens, the wavering and wheeling
masses that still waged the balanced fight ;
and he could hear the rattling volleys of the
musketry sharp and incessant.

" 'Tis but our cavalry" — he said — " 'tis but
our cavalry that fly, and their horse-general has
lost a golden opportunity ; had he but wheeled

48 CROMWELL.

upon our flank, when the dog troopers fled, he
might have gained the battle ! but it is now too
late, and, an he look not out the sharper, we
may yet give him a rebuff he dreams not of.
Sound trumpets — ha ! sound merrily, a rally
and a charge ! Advance, brave hearts, we will
redeem the day. For lo I" he added with rare
tact, as he perceived the royal horse relaxing
their pursuit, and heard their bugles winding a
recall. " For lo ! they have perceived us, and
retreat already "

And down the slope he moved in admirable
order, interposing a small wood between his
force and the retiring cavalry of the victorious
royalists, whom, notwithstanding his most po
litic vaunt, he little wished at that time to
encounter.

Just ere he came upon the level ground, he
carefully reviewed the scene before him, and
was even more convinced than ever, that the
battle wag indeed yet undetermined, and further
yet that the royalist horse were at the last

CROMWELL. 49

aware of their mistake in urging the pursuit too
far ; for he might see them straining every nerve
now to repair their error, as they swept back
toward the left-hand rear of the contending
parties, leaving thereby the access to the right
wing of Lord Essex, whom Ardenne justly
deemed to lie between himself and the King's
forces, easy and unobstructed.

Instantly he perceived, and profited as instant
ly, by this advantage, of marching at a sharp trot
across the field strewed with the mangled car
cases of those who, by their dastard flight, had
lost the wretched lives they sacrificed their hon
our to preserve, and forfeited all claim to that
precarious boon — a soldier's pity.

Once on the level ground, he could discover
nothing further, and the suspense was fearful —
and now the cannonading ceased — the musketry
fell thicker and more constant — then that ceased
likewise, and was followed by the faintly-heard
hurrah of charging horse, and the wild chorus
of a psalm.

VOL. n. f D

50 CROMWELL.

"The day is ours!" he shouted, as he re
cognised the sounds ; " on ! on ! to share the
glory !"

Faster they hurried ; and but little time
elapsed, ere he brought up his squadron with
out the slightest opposition, or, indeed, notice
on the King's part, to the extreme right of the
position occupied in the commencement of the
action by the army of the Parliament. The
moment was indeed most critical, and Edgar
could not but perceive — as having left his squad
ron for the moment in command of his lieuten
ant, he rode up and reported to the general — that
his arrival was deemed singularly opportune.

Never, perhaps, had been a field more nearly
lost — never a victory more madly cast away —
never a battle poised more equally. The base
desertion of Sir Faithful Fortescue, the terror-
stricken flight of Waller's horse on the left wing
before the fiery charge of Rupert, and the de
feat of the right wing by Wilmot and Sir Arthur
Aston, had left both flanks of the Parliamenta-

CROMWELL. 51

rians utterly naked and unguarded ; so that a
single charge by either of the royalist com
manders upon their flank or rear, which they
had gained, must have annihilated all of their
array which yet stood firm — the foot under the
earl in person, and a reserve of horse under
Sir William Balfour.

But with that desperate and selfish fury which
neutralized, in every instance, the effects of his
undaunted valour, Rupert passed the left as Wil-
mot passed the right of Essex, trampling and cut
ting down their unresisting adversaries for several
miles' distance from the field, the former suffer
ing his men to sack the town of Keinton, and
to disperse among the baggage of the enemy,
while his desertion had not only robbed the
King of all his hopes of victory, but actually
placed him in a more evil plight, and peril far
more imminent, than that in which defeat had
placed the foe. For Balfour, with his squadron
of reserve, seeing the plain entirely clear of
horse, had charged the royal foot with such a
D 2

52 CROMWELL.

steadiness of persevering courage, that he bad
cut the Earl of Lindsey's regiment to pieces,
taking that nobleman with his brave son, Lord
Willoughby, both desperately wounded, prison
ers — winning the King^s own standard — throw
ing the centre into perilous confusion, and hew
ing his way almost to the person of the monarch.
Just at this moment, when a bold advance of
his own line must have completed the King's
ruin, Lord Essex was compelled, by Rupert's
re-appearance on his rear with his fast-rallying
cavalry, who, though in disarray and tired, both
horse and man, were flushed with their success
and high in spirit, to recal Balfour to make
head against him ; and that bold leader's trum
pets were calling off his troopers from their half-
achieved success, when Ardenne reached the
field, and was directed instantly to move his
fresh men forward to protect the left wing of
the infantry, till Balfour should draw off and

relieve him.

Edgar's troops, though new to service, were

CROMWELL. 53

admirably disciplined, and full of daring confi
dence in their tried leader, and with such promp
titude and regularity did they manoeuvre and
deploy in face of a superior body, that he almost
regretted that there was no better opportunity
to prove their mettle, and to flesh their maiden
swords.

His duty quietly performed, and the reserve
of Balfour being re-formed in haste and front
ing Rupert, he was commanded once again to
occupy his first position on the right j and now,
instinctively, he saw that either army might be
deemed half conquered ; that a single charge —
nay, but a single demonstration — would suffice
to win an absolute and undisputed victory.
Each host was spiritless and disarrayed — the
leaders on each side confused and doubtful — the
troops exhausted, slack, and heartless.

Vainly he prayed the general-in-chief to surlier
him to risk his single regiment in but one charge
on Rupert's half-collected squadrons ; pointing
out to him dearly, but without effect, the strong

54 CROMWELL.

presumption that his fresh men and vigorous
horses must sweep away, like dust, the cavaliers
worn o'ut with the lassitude for ever consequent
on over-fierce excitement, and troubled further
at finding themselves asssailed, from having of
late been assailants, and the certainty that if
such should be the case, undoubted conquest
must ensue.

The earl was cold and dubious : " we may
not hope," he said, " we may not hope for vic
tory to-night. It is a mercy from on high — I
had right nearly said a miracle — that we stand
here as now, at vantage, holding the better of a
doubtful day ! An hour ago meth ought all was
lost. Moreover, it has gone tenfold more fatally
with them than us. We have lost privates —
men neither high of heart, nor strong of hand,
much less of eminence or wisdom — they the first
flowers of England. Oh ! I could well-nigh
weep, but that 'twere treason to our cause, for
the pure blood that has been shed like water —
Lindsey, and Aubigney, and Stewart, and Ed-

CROMWELL. 55

mund Verney, the bravest and the best of the
army, all lost — all lost in this accursed quarrel !
Two more such fields as this were fatal to the
King, while ten such would but leave us, at the
worst, where now we are !"

Slowly and unconvinced Edgar rode back to
his command, and as he watched the movements
of the enemy now holding the precise position
they had occupied three hours before, whatever
doubt he might have entertained till then, va
nished at once, for he beheld the hapless
Charles — armed as becomes a King to battle
for his crown, all steel from spur to helmet, a
mantle of black velvet with the star and George
of diamonds floating above his armour — to rein
his snow-white charger gallantly along his wa
vering lines, beseeching them — " Once more,"
with energetic gestures ; " once more to charge
the rebels \" and he beheld the faint and false
hearted denial ; for not by any prayer or promise
could those to whom he spoke with words of

56 CROMWELL.

fire be wrought upon a second time to dare the
onset.

Meanwhile, the sun set gloriously in a dense
bank of clouds ; the night, " that common
friend to wearied and dismantled armies/' sank
darkly down upon the plain, and all its sights
and sounds of agony and horror; and the two
hosts, each upon the ground whereon they fought,
slept anxious and uneasy on their arms — uncer
tain of their present safety, and unresolved as
to their proceedings for the morrow.

CROMWELL. 57

CHAPTER II.

Behold ! our swords are drawn !
Not for the bubble fame, nor at thy call,
Vaulting ambition, who o'ei^trid'st the neck
Of prostrate kings, to mount with foot profane
Thrones of usurp'd dominion; but for right,
For freedom, for our country, for our God !
And think ye they shall e'er be sheathed again,
Till that this solemn cause adjudged be,
In high heaven's sight, by victory or death ?

THE morning was yet gray and gloomy, after

a night of frost — felt the more bitterly by those

who bivouacked upon the field, since there was

neither tree, nor hedge, nor any other covert

D 3

58 CROMWELL.

nigh to fence them from the piercing wind —
when Ardenne started from the disturbed and
unrefreshing slumbers which had crept upon him
beneath the partial shelter of an ammunition
tumbrel, overturned and broken. He was up-
roused by the loud trumpets of the powerful
reinforcement brought up before the promised
hour by Cromwell, consisting of two thousand
foot, Hampden's and Grantham's regiments,
and his own ironsides, whose presence might,
on the preceding day, have turned the doubtful
scale, and ended at a single stroke the war,
unfortunately destined to no such speedy ter
mination.

It was a strange and melancholy, though
exciting scene, that met his gaze as he arose ;
the dark skies scarcely dappled in the east by
the first streaks of dawn ; the faint stars waning
one by one, as the cold light increased ; the
black brow of the neighbouring hills cutting
distinct and sharp against the horizon ; the
white mist creeping in wreaths along their bases^

CROMWELL. 59

and curtaining the plain with a thick veil,
through which the watchfires of the royal host,
at scarcely a mile's distance, burned with dull
and lurid redness ; the foreground heaped with
the carriages of the artillery, horses picketed
in their ranks, and companies of men outstretched
on the dank soil, sleeping upon no better couches
than their dripping cloaks, beneath no warmer
canopy than the overcast and gusty firmament.
Nor were the sounds that rose at intervals
from the opposing camps, and the deserted
battle-field between them, less wild and mourn
ful than the images which crowded their noc
turnal area. The measured tramp of the un
wearied sentinels, now mingled with the clash
of armour, and close beside the ear, now gra
dually sinking into silence as he visited his
farther beat, the clang and clatter of the horse
patrole, sweeping, at wider distances, around
the guarded limits, and the deep cadence of his
occasional " all's well" — the neigh and stamp
of restless chargers — the baying of forsaken

60 CROMWELL.

hounds, and, sadder and more terrible than all
beside, the feeble wailing, the half-heard distant
groan, the long-drawn unavailing cry for succour,
of maimed and miserable wretches, battling and
wrestling with their mortal pangs throughout
he live-long night, and cursing the unnatural
strength that nerved their fainting and reluctant
flesh to strive with that inevitable angel, whom
their more willing spirit would have welcomed
as a rescuer and friend.

While he was yet, with a sick heart and tor
tured ear, listening to these too numerous wit
nesses of human agony, and pondering upon the
dread responsibility of him who, to indulge a
lawless thirst after a little brief authority, had
let loose on a happy land that most abhorred
curse of nations, domestic war, an orderly rode
up in haste to crave his presence at the quarters
of the general.

After a short and rapid walk toward the rear,
he reached the spot where Essex, like the
meanest of his men, had passed the night be-

CROMWELL. 61

neath no other roof than the inclement sky. A
dozen pikes, irregularly pitched into the ground,
draped with horse-blankets and watch-cloaks
offered a shelter rather nominal than real against
the night air on the north and east, while a huge
pile of logs sparkled and blazed in front, casting
a wavering glare of crimson upon a group of
tall and martial-looking officers collected round
the person of their leader, which glittered less
conspicuously on the arms and figures of a
score or two of troopers, who sat motionless on
their tall chargers, at some short distance in the
rear.

The council, as it seemed to Edgar on his
first approach, were absolutely silent; but, as
he drew more near, he found that Essex was
addressing them, although in tones so low and
so subdued that they scarce reached the ears of
those for whom they were intended. Nor, as
he judged from the expression painted on every
countenance (for the lord -general ceased from
speaking just as he joined the circle), were his

62 CROMWELL.

words calculated to inspire his listeners with
confidence or warlike spirit. A blank despond
ing gloom sat darkling on the brows of all, and
every eye, save those of the new-comers who
stood together and a little apart from the rest,
dwelt gloomily upon the ground. It seemed a
meeting rather of defeated and despairing fugi
tives, than of the bold and dauntless spirits who
had but yester-even maintained a more than
equal strife against the flower of England's
nobles.

Suddenly, with his harsh features kindling
into passionate and fiery animation, and his eye
glancing wild-fire, Cromwell, whom Edgar had
not hitherto observed, started up from a pile of
housings and horse-furniture on which he had
been seated.

" As the Lord liveth," he exclaimed — " as
the Lord liveth — we can smite them hip and
thigh — if so be that your excellency will give
me but command to charge upon them now,
while they yet lie with faint hearts and with

CROMWELL. 63

heavy eyes about their watch-fires. I ask but
for my own stout troop of ironsides— and Master
Ardenne's horse here, if he list to join me —
I ask but these, and verily I do profess to you,
they shall not bide the changing of a buffet.
Nay, but we may destroy them utterly, smiting
them with the sword, as Joshua smote them
beside the waters, even the waters of Merom,
what time he did to them as the Lord bade
him ; he houghed their horses, and burnt their
chariots with fire \"

" It is too late, sir \" returned Essex coldly
— ft it is too late ! The morning will have
broken, ere you can get your men to horse !w

" Nay, but not so, lord-general," anxiously
interrupted Cromwell — " my troopers be not yet
dismounted, and of a truth I do assure you,
that their spirits are athirst, ay, and their souls
an hungered, to do this battle for the Lord !"

u We will not have it so, sir," replied the
Earl shortly and scarcely courteously — " We
will not have it so. It might endanger our

64 CROMWELL.

whole host. I pray you, Colonel Cromwell,
draw out your horse upon our furthest left^
facing thereby Prince Rupert on the King's
right wing. And you, fair gentlemen," — turning
to Hampden and to Grantham, — "move up
your gallant foot to reinforce our centre. Had
ye be been here, but yesterday, I had not feared
to gain a complete victory — but now I hold it
rash to offer or commence, though by God's
help we will not shun, encounter. Sirs, to your
posts. The council is at an end. The day is
breaking — lo, there sounds the rcveillee!"

" Cold council !" muttered Cromwell in the
ear of Ardenne, 'as he left the presence. " Cold
council, if not traitorous ! and at the best false
argument ! — for an he could half-beat Charles
Stuart without us yesterday — sure, with three
thousands of fresh men, and those the best of
his array, he might now trample him beneath
his feet ! Besides, with Verney slain outright,
and Lindsey captive, and half their officers cut
down or grievously entreated, stands it not cer-

CROMWELL. 65

tain that they must need be faint of heart? —
Verily ! verily ! I say to you, there shall be no
good thing befal the righteous cause, while such
a leader marshals us."

As he concluded, he turned off abruptly,
mounted his horse, and rode away toward his
troopers, who awaited their stout colonel in the
rear — and, ere ten minutes had elapsed, Edgar
might hear them chanting in subdued and sullen
tones the melancholy psalm, " Save me, O God,
for the waters are come in unto my soul !" — as
they marched gloomily away to occupy the post
for which they were assigned.

At the same time, the regiments, which for
the last half hour had been getting under arms,
fell in, and faced the army of the King, which
might be clearly seen, as the mists gradually
rolled away before the growing daylight, resum
ing the position it had held before the action of
the previous day. The instruments of music
sounded indeed, and cheerily, and the bright
colours fluttered gaily in the freshening breeze ;

66 CROMWELL.

but other sign of spirit or alacrity along the
serried ranks Edgar saw none, before he reached
his own brave troopers, already mounted, and
in accurate array, under Sir Edmund Winthrop
his lieutenant, and eager — as the heart-stirring
shout, with which they greeted their com
mander, spoke them — for the onset of which
they deemed his presence the immediate har
binger.

The sun rose broad and bright, kindling the
whole expanse of heaven with his fair lustre,
the mist-wreaths floated upward and dispersed
themselves into the delicate and scale-like
clouds, flecking the azure skies, which promise
glorious days; the morning gradually passed
away, and noon drew nigh, and still each army
held its ground, facing the other in stern array
of warfare, both as it seemed prepared and
resolute to meet, but neither willing to com
mence, the onset. At times the trumpets on
one side would breathe forth a wild flourish of
defiance, and a shout or psalm would go up to

CROMWELL. 67

the peaceful heaven from the other, intended it
might be to irritate or challenge the foe into
some movement that should lay him open to
a'ttack.

The sun now rode high in heaven, and hour
by hour the chances of a general action became
less imminent. Suddenly, at a moment when all
those leaders of the parliament, who deemed it
no less for their interest than their honour to
give battle, almost despaired of any opportunity
for sealing their adherence to the cause — there
was a movement on the right wing of the royal
host. Directly in the centre of the field, mid
way between the lines of either army, four light
field-pieces, sakers and culverines, had been
abandoned on the previous day by the King's
infantry, when shattered and disordered, though
still fighting with their faces to the foe, by the
repeated charge of Balfour's horse.

So rapidly had night set in upon the wearied
hosts, and perhaps so fearful were both parties
of then doing aught which might provoke re-

OS CROMWELL.

nevval of the conflict, that these, the proofs and
prizes of the victory, had been permitted to
remain unmoved either by rescuer or captor
through the long hours of darkness ; and, until
mid-day was at hand, no disposition was exhi
bited to bring them off whether by cavalier or
puritan. But now — either disposed to fight, if
needful, with courage gathered from the weak
policy of Essex, or convinced by their inactivity
that he should meet with no resistance from the
despised and hated roundheads — Rupert dashed
forth in person from the right, with a detachment
of the King^s horse-guard, that gallant troop of
nobles whose impetuous and headlong daring —
though at the first it had passed, like a torrent,
sheer through the reeling ranks and weaker cavalry
of its opponents — had yet done more against the
final gaining of the day than had the fiercest
struggles of the adversary.

Forward they came, mounted on horses that
might each have borne a king to battle, rending
the air with their repeated cheers, and with the

CROMWELL. 69

joyous clangor of their defying trumpets, a flood
of waving plumes, and fluttering scarfs — the
bravest and the best-born of the land. Midway
between the hosts they gallopped on, exposing,
as it would seem in very wantonness of bold
bravado, the flank of their advance to the stern
ironsides of Cromwell, who showed like a dark
storm-cloud ready to burst upon their heads with
all the crash and ruin of a tempest.

Already were these gloomy martialists ex
changing their d ull scowls of rigid and abstracted
sanctity for the fierce flashings of enthusiastic
joy, with which they never failed to clothe their
features, when rushing down like eagles to the
banquet of the sword. — Already were they bran
dishing their heavy blades aloft in savage exul
tation — already were they lifting up their voices
in the triumphant psalm which should preface
their thundering charge, and rising high above
the din of battle strike terror and confusion to
the hearts of those, whom as they sung — " The
Lord — even the Lord of hosts— shall hunt, to

70 CROMWELL.

overthrow them \" — But, ere the word was given
by their colonel, whose sword was in his hand*
outstretched toward the flaunting cavaliers on
whose destruction he securely counted, an officer
came at the full speed of his spur-galled and
foaming charger bearing the mandates of the
general.

" Ha ! Major Winton !" Cromwell exclaimed,
with a raised voice and joyous intonation, " you
bring us right glad tidings — tidings which my .
soul comprehendeth ere mine ear hath caught
their import. Tarry thou but a little space, and
call me coward then, an thou see them not
performed unto the letter — aye ! and those gay
malignants yonder scattered like chaff before
the wind of heaven ! Sound trumpets, and "

" Hold ! Colonel Cromwell ; in the Lord's
name, hold!" — The other interrupted him with
a half-frightened energy of zeal — " you do mis
apprehend ! Tis the lord-generaPs command,
that you stir not a foot ! — He would avoid an
action."

CROMWELL. 71

" Tush, man, it cannot be !" Oliver fiercely
cried — " Nay stay me not! — forego thy grasp
upon my rein ! — Let me not now, I say, or truly
I will—"

" Nay sir," returned the officer, cutting
again into his speech, as much chagrined by
the impetuous gesture and half-uttered threat —
" You shall do as you list, for me; but I do
warn you, 'tis against express commandment of
my Lord of Essex, if you shall charge these
horse. See how they muster yonder to the front
of the main host, dragoons and cavalry, for the
support of this detachment. One charge must
needs bring on a general action."

" The better I" answered Cromwell, with
a gloomy frown — " the better, an we had aught
of faith in the good cause, or spirit in our carnal
calling. But on his own head be it ! Surely the
Lord hath deadened his understanding, causing
his heart to fail with terror, and with fainting !
On his own head be it \" — and, as he spoke, he
sheathed his rapier, driving it home so furiously

72 CROMWELL.

that the hilt rang against the iron scabbard, with
a sharp angry clatter — e( On his own head be
the shame, the ruin, and confusion !" — and
turning his charger's rein he rode away toward
the rear, in a dark sullen reverie, determined
not to look upon the capture of the guns, since
he could not prevent it. Nor did he check, in
anywise, or reprimand the deep and bitter mur
murs of reviling, which the fierce zealots he
commanded launched forth against the cold and
cautious policy that thus forbid them " to arise
and slay the enemy at Karkar, even as Gideon
arose, when he slew Zebah and Zalmunnah !"

And in the sight of the whole host, the chivalry
of Rupert dashed along with brandished weapons,
and bright banners, unharmed at least if not
unheeded. They pounced upon the cannon, and
not a sword was drawn, or a shot fired. — Six
powerful horses, led for the purpose and already
harnessed, were on the instant linked to every
gun ; and away they went bounding and clatter
ing over the frozen soil at a hand gallop, while

CROMWELL. 73

the fearless cavaliers formed face toward the
host of Essex to cover their retreat, patiently
waiting till they reached the royal lines. Then,
with three regular cheers of triumph and deri_
sion, they filed off at a foot's pace, as if unwilling
to return without exchanging shot of carabine
or stroke of sword, even although victorious.

Another hour elapsed, and yet another, and still
the armies held their stations steadily face to face,
neither advancing to attack, neither disposed to
quit the field in presence of the other. Noon
w;as already past, when a fresh movement was
observed among the royalists near to the centre
of the army. But this time, as it seemed, no
hostile measures were intended ; for a white flag-
was suddenly advanced beyond the outposts of
the army, and then, preceded by his trumpet,
and followed by a glittering train of pursuivants
attired in their quartered tabards, Clarencieux
king-at-arms, refulgent in the blazoned pomp of
heraldry, caracoled forth upon a snow- white

VOL. II. E

74 CROMWELL.

palfrey, whose embroidered housings literally
swept the ground.

When it had almost reached the advanced
guards of the parliament, the gay procession
halted, while its trumpets stirred the echoes of
the slumbering hills with a long-flourished blast,
calling the leaders of the host to a pacific parley.

But be their errand what it might, their sum
mons called forth no emotion from the stern
puritans. No officer rode down to meet them —
no peaceful symbol corresponding to their own
was raised to greet them — no trumpet answered
theirs, though thrice it brayed aloud with notes
of evident impatience.

Wearied at length by the contemptuous
silence, which alone answered to his overtures,
leaving his train where it had halted, the king-
at-arms rode slowly, with a dubious air as if but
ill-assured of safety, toward the nearest guard of
horsemen, one pursuivant alone attending, and
demanded to be led forthwith to the lord-
general.

CROMWELL. 75

After brief ceremonial, the subaltern with
half-a-dozen men escorted him along the line*
requiring him emphatically, and with a glance
toward the carabines of the guard rested upon
their thighs in readiness for instant service, to
speak no word an he would reach the general
with life. Nor was his greeting much more
cordial when, after hurrying him with small
respect along the serried ranks, the subaltern
resigned him to an officer of Essex's life-guard,
who with the same stern discipline conducted
him toward the quarters of the brave though
over-cautious nobleman who held the chief
command.

The general was mounted on his charger,
with his leading-staff in hand, attired in a suit
of beautiful half-armour, with a broad scarf of
orange crossing his cuirass, and a feather of the
like colour drooping from his morion. The
Earl of Bedford and Sir William Balfour were
beside him likewise on horseback, and some
half-dozen of his staff, while Colonels Hazlerig
E 2

76 CROMWELL.

and Hampden, stood around dismounted. Essex,
with whom he had no personal acquaintance,
looked full upon him without word or sign of
salutation ; but Balfour, whom he knew, bowed
slightly.

" I bear, so please you, my good Lord of
Essex," the king-at-arms began, in nowise
daunted by his cold reception, " a gracious
proclamation of His Majesty, Charles, by the
grace of God — "

"Hold, sir!" cried Essex, in a sharp and
angry tone. " Hold, sir, — to whom bear you
this message? Speak out, sir — and fall back,
you loitering knaves ! Back with you all ! Back
out of ear-shot !" as he perceived the troopers
of his body-guard crowding a little forward as
if to mark what passed.

" Charles, by the grace of God— " continued
the bold speaker, resuming, even where he had
been before cut short, the thread of his discourse.

" To whom ? to whom, I say, bear you this
message?" exclaimed Essex, in tones of fierce

CROMWELL. 77

excitement, the blood rushing in crimson to his
brow. " To whom, save me, dare you bear any
word ?"

" To all/' he answered calmly, " to all men
present here, bear I His Majesty's most mer
ciful—"

" Silence ! audacious !" thundered the gene
ral, " Silence, if thou beest not aweary of thy
life ! Knowest thou not, William Le Neve,
knowest thou not that for this breach of every
law of war and nations I might cause thee
hang ? — hang like a dog upon the nearest tree
for all thy painted mummery ! — Away with him,
sir," he continued after a short pause, as if
ashamed of his display of violence, addressing
the officer who had escorted him ; " Away with
him ! — see him a hundred yards beyond our
outposts, and, if he do but breathe too
loudly, shoot him upon the instant. I do pro
fess/5 he added, turning again to the abashed
and silenced messenger,—*" I do profess to you,
you have incurred a very fearful risk ; but, that

78 CROMWELL.

you may not lack an answer, say to your master,
that we have drawn our swords at bidding of
the parliament, and in behalf of those ancestral
liberties, which we will either transmit free and
unfettered to our children, or lose together with
our lives ! — Thou hast thine answer."

And with even more precaution than he had
been admitted, was he led back, to join his
followers, by a stout squadron of the general's
life-guard, who, halting at some twenty yards
from the confused and trembling pursuivants, de
liberately blew their matches and levelled their
short arquebuses ! Startled at this manoeuvre, it
needed little, when the officer informed them,
" that, an they were not a full flight shot on
their route before three minutes, he should fire
a volley on them," to send them at a furious
gallop scattering toward the King's army.

This was the last attempt ; and ere an hour
had elapsed, the guns and carriages of the King's
host were drawn off by the road to Edgecot, his
late quarters — and Essex, on beholding their

CROMWELL. 79

retreat, was no less willing to lead away toward
Warwick his wearied and disheartened army,
abandoning thereby to Charles the access to the
capital — which he had marched, and even risked
a battle, to defend — whenever he should choose
to profit by the errors of his enemy.

Scarce had the orders for this movement been
delivered, before a trooper galloped up to
Ardenne's post, gave him a packet, and, with
out waiting a reply, dashed spurs into his horse,
and was already out of sight ere Edgar had
discerned its purport. It was a mandate from
the general in council, directing him to join his
force to that of Colonel Cromwell, and place
himself at once at his disposal ; and he had
hardly read it through, when Oliver himself
rode up.

" You have already," he said, " as I see,
received those tidings, which, trusting that
they may not be displeasing, and that so you
be not rendered an unwilling instrument in this
great cause, I have come hither to communicate.

80 CKOMWELL.

I am detached forthwith to march with mine
own ironsides, and with your gallant horse, for
Cambridge — thence to protect the safety of the
eastern counties — and, verily, I do rejoice, for
my soul sickeneth at coward councils, and, so
long as we tarry here, we be not like, I trow,
to meet with brave ones. Come with me, Edgar
Ardenne, and I tell thee we can achieve
great things for the deliverance of this groaning
land — yea ! and work more for its regeneration
with our poor hundreds, and the Lord's hand,
which of a very deed shall smite on our side —
frail vessels though we be and faithless — more
to advance the liberties of England, than Essex
with his tens of thousands I"

CROMWELL. 81

CHAPTER III.

Not for my life ! Not though the hosts of heaven
Bend down their knees in suppliance at my feet,
And woo me to consent, shall one poor coin
Defile my palm of what is his by right —
His heritage — bequeathed i' the olden time
From honoured sire to son, and last to him,
Most honoured, who should heir it now, as free
As his great soul, and shall, by Heaven, for me !

IT was a sharp clear evening, some two
months later than the undecided action ol
Edgehill, while both the armies were lying in
their winter quarters — that of the King at
Oxford, whither he had immediately retired
E 3

82 CROMWELL.

after his treacherous violation of the truce at
Brentford, and consequent repulse from London
— that of the parliament in the metropolis and
its vicinity, when a small group, composed of
individuals the most discordant both in character
and outward show, was gathered in the oriel
parlour of the old Manor-house of Woodleigh,
affording to the eye a combination singular and
picturesque.

Sir Henry Ardenne stood in the centre at the
oaken table, on which a standish was displayed
of massive silver, with implements for writing,
and a long scroll of parchment, carefully en
grossed and decked with several broad seals, to
which, as it would seem, he was preparing to
affix his signature. His figure, still erect and
stately, was clad in a rich military suit of buff,
splendidly laced with gold, booted, and spurred,
and girt with the long rapier of the day; his
snow-white locks hung down on either cheek,
uncovered, for an attendant held, in readiness
for instant use, his high-crowned beaver with

CROMWELL. 83

its drooping feather, and his sad-coloured riding-
cloak. His noble features were knit firmly,
with an evident expression of resolve, although
a tear-drop might be seen to twinkle in his dark
eye, as he looked down upon his niece grovelling
in the dust before him, prostrate, and clinging to
his knees, with her side hair in its dishevelled
volumes, half covering her lovely form — with
her hands clasped, her eyes uplifted to his face,
her lips apart, but motionless, in agony of tear
less supplication.

A hoary-headed servant watched, at a short
distance, the development of the sad scene,
with every wrinkled feature telling of his affec
tionate concern ; while a stout, stolid-looking
yeoman, summoned, it might be, to attest a
signature, lounged at his elbow, staring in rude
indifference on the display of passions with
which his boorish nature vainly sought to sym
pathize.

A small man, meanly clad in a black buckram

84 CROMWELL,

doublet, with an inkhorn and a penknife in lieu
of weapons at his girdle, of an expression im
pudently sly and knavish, was the last person of
the group within the manor ; but without,
plainly to be discovered from the casements,
there was assembled a fair company of horse
men, gaily equipped in the bright fluttering
garb affected by the cavaliers, with the old
banner of the house of Ardenne unfurled and
streaming to the wintry wind, and a groom lead
ing to and fro the favourite charger of the head
of that high name.

"No! no!" cried Sibyl, in tones that qui
vered with excitement till they were barely
audible, resisting the slight force which the
old man put forth to raise her — " No ! no ! I
will not rise. Here, here at your feet will I
remain, till I prevail in my entreaty ! Oh, you
were wont to be wise, generous, and just ! Tem
perate in your youth, as I have heard them tell,
and calm : be then yourself, my noble uncle — be

CROMWELL. 85

then once more yourself — nor sully, by this deed
of unconsidered rashness, a whole long life of
wisdom and of honour."

ee It may not be," he answered quietly,
though not without an effort, as he compelled
her to arise. " It may not be. The time al
lotted to our race hath now run out ! The
house of Ardenne is extinct, with the old mi
serable man who stands before you ! the lands
that have been subject to my name for centuries,
shall never know it more ! The Lord gave —
the Lord hath taken away — blessed be the
name of the Lord ! But would — oh, would to
heaven — that his corpse had mouldered on some
foreign battle-field — that his bones had been
entombed deep in the caverns of the sea — that
he had died by any death, how terrible soever —
that he had dragged out any life, however
wretched and intolerable ! Better, far better
had it been, so to have mourned for him, than
to have seen him thus — a blot — a single blot —
on an unblemished name ! a traitor to his king

86 CROMWELL.

— a foeman to his country — a curse to him from
whom he drew his being ! No ! plead to me
no more — for never, never shall a traitor — a
fanatic and hypocritical traitor — inherit aught
from me, save the high name he hath disgraced.
I have — and I bless heaven that I have it —
through his own act of. treason, the right to
sunder this entail, and sundered shall it be ere
sunset ! He hath no corner of my heart — no
jot of mine affections — himself he hath cut out
his path, and — rue it as he may — by that path
must he travel now unto the end — dishonoured
— outcast — disinherited — accur — "

" Oh, no ! no, no !" she shrieked in frantic
tones, drowning his utterance of a word so ter
rible, when coming from a parent's lips — " curse
him not ! — curse him not ! or never shall you
taste of peace again. Father, curse not your
son — your first-born, and your only ! — Sinner,
curse not your fellow ! — Christian, curse not a
soul, whose hopes are thy hopes also! — Curse
not, but pray ! — Pray — not for your erring child,

CROMWELL.

but for your rash and sinful self! Pray, uncle,
pray for penitence and pardon !"

Affected somewhat by her words, but yet
more by the fearful energy of her demeanour,
than by the tenour of her speech, Sir Henry
paused ; but not to doubt, much less to bend
from his revengeful policy.

" In so far, at the least, fair niece — in so far;
at the least/5 he said, with a smile evidently
forced and painful, " you have the right of it.
rfis neither christianlike to curse, nor manly. —
But to this gear, good Master Sexby I3' he con
tinued, turning to the lawyer who had gazed
with hardened coldness on the affecting scene.
This deed, you tell me, is complete and firm in
all the technicalities ?"

"As strong as law can render it, Sir Henry,"
returned the mean attorney, " else know I
nothing of mine own profession. Since Master
Ardenne being last of the entail, and now de
clared a traitor by proclamation of His Majesty
at Oxford, could scarce inherit, even without

88 CROMWELL.

this deed of settlement on Mistress Sibyl and
her heirs — "

" Never !" she answered in a calm low voice,
the more peculiar from its contrast to the fiery
vehemence she had before displayed ; " never
would I receive the smallest share, the least par
ticular of that which is another's. That other
Edgar Ardenne too!— though I should perish of
starvation — never ! And heirs — what tell ye
me of heirs ? Think ye that I— I the affianced
bride of such a man — would deign to cast my
self away on his inferior ? No ! no ! your
testament is nothing worth. Heirless will I die,
or die the wife of Ardenne ! What, then, avail
your crafts and subtleties of law ? I spurn their
false and fickle toils before me, as the free hawk
•would rive asunder with his unfettered wing the
trammels of the spider's web !"

" Peace ! for your fame's sake, peace, de
generate girl \" the old man sternly answered,
" would you disclose to these your miserable
weakness — "

CROMWELL. 89

" To these ? To every dweller of the uni
versal earth would I avow the strength — the
constancy — the immortality of my legitimate
and hallowed love ! Affianced in my youth — by
thee affianced — to one whom both my reason
and my heart prefer, why should I shrink to own
it ? Weakness ? I tell you, uncle, that I am
no whit less strong — nay, ten times stronger
than yourself— in faith, in loyalty, in conscience,
in resolve ! If I may not approve his actions —
and, of a truth, I do not — I may not but revere
his motives ! and if those actions must half
sever the strong links that join us, and render
me, for very conscience sake, a widowed maiden
— his motives, pure and sincere and fervent as
an angel's faith, shall, at the least, forbid me to
misjudge, much more to wrong him. Weak
ness ! I tell you I adore him — adore him even
more for this his constancy to what he deems
the better cause, when every fibre of his heart
is tugging him to the other — when loss of name,
and fame, and fortune must be the guerdon of

90 CROMWELL.

his unflinching and severe devotion to a mis
taken creed ! Yet deeply, singly as I love him,
never will I wed Edgar Ardenne while he un-
sheaths a rebel blade, or prompts a rebel council.
I tell you I adore him, yet will I die a maiden,
unless — " and she paused for a space in her
most eloquent appeal, as if to mark what influ
ence it might have had upon the mind of her
stern relative — " unless by this your madness
you drive me to do that my conscience shrinks
from. Suffer your broad lands to descend to
him who justly heirs them, and rest assured that
sooner will I die than marry with a rebel ! Leave
them to me — as, in the madness of your passion,
you propose — leave them to me, and instantly
will I make restitution to the rightful owner, if
by no other means, at least by sacrifice of mine
own conscience — mine own person !"

" Go to ! You will not, Sibyl !" exclaimed
the old man vehemently. " I know you better
than you know yourself — you would not do so,
were things a thousand times more precious

CROMWELL. 91

than these miserable lands dependant on your
action !"

" And wherefore not ?" she cried. " Have I
not, at the dictates of my conscience, cast from
me the affections of the warmest and the highest
heart that ever beat for woman ? Have I not
sacrificed unto my sense of loyalty — a sense
perchance fantastic or mistaken — my every hope
of happiness on earth ? And wherefore shall I
not obey the voice of the same counsellor, and
to a sacrifice less grievous ? Think you the love
of justice is a less eloquent or weaker advocate
than the mere love of kings? — But since you
may not be convinced by argument, nor won by
any pleading — hear me then swear, and hear
me THOU" — she added, solemnly turning up
ward her bright eyes, flashing with strong ex
citement and dilated far beyond their wonted
size — " that sittest on the wings of cherubim —
Thou that hast no regard for kings, nor any
trust in princes — receive my vow !" —

She paused an instant as if to recollect her

92 CROMWELL.

energies, and as she paused a deep voice broke
the silence.

" Swear not, my gentle cousin/' said the slow
harmonious voice — " and above all swear not
for me \»

Instantly every eye was turned in the direc
tion whence sounded those unusual accents;
and in the sight of all, upon the threshold of
the open door, there stood a tall and stately
figure wrapped in a horseman's cloak of dark
colour, and wearing a slouched hat and falling
plume which veiled effectually, in that dim un
certain light, the features of the speaker. But
their concealment mattered not, for every heart
at once, and as it were instinctively, knew
Edgar Ardenne, whose arrival, with the slight
bustle that accompanied it, had passed un
noticed during the all-engrossing interest of the
scene in which those present were engaged !

" Swear not in my behalf, dear Sibyl/' he
continued, doffing his high- crowned beaver, and
displaying his fine lineaments haggard and pale

CROMWELL. 93

from violent emotion — " nor, if you love me,
thwart my father's will. In good time, I per
ceive, have I come hither, since something of
your purpose reached my ears e'er you beheld
my presence." —

" And wherefore," his father fiercely inter
rupted him, laying his hand upon his rapier's
hilt, — wherefore have you presumed, traitor and
villain, thus to defile these honourable halls
with the pollution of your footstep? Have you
come sword-in-hand, leading your canting and
psalm-singing hypocrites — to spoil and slay and
lead into captivity — or have you come, forsooth,
with oily words and a god-fearing countenance
to preach to the old man the error of his ways —
that he too may unsheath the sword of Gideon,
and go down with the chosen of the Lord to
strive against the Philistines in Gilgal ! Such is
the style of your new comrades, and thou canst
mouth it with the best of them, I warrant me !
Canst thou not preach, and pray ? — canst thou

94 CROMWELL.

not quote the scriptures of the Lord, to justify
the doings of the devil ?"

" For none of these things have I come, my
father," he replied in sad and humble tones,
sinking upon his knee ; " nor yet for any thing
that may offend or grieve you. Hear me, I do
beseech you/' — for by the angry gestures of Sir
Henry, he perceived that his speech was like
to be cut short — " Hear me but for a short
while, and I will cease to pain you with my
presence I"

" Be it then for a short while,'5 answered
the other, nothing mollified by the calm pa
tience of his son — " if be it must at all — as I
suppose it musty for I can well believe that you
have some five hundred fighting men of the
saints to back you, else had you never ventured
hither. Let it be for a short while, sirrah, —
for even now I look to see the roof-tree of my
father's house topple and crush the wretch that
has brought infamy on all it shelters \"

CROMWELL. 95

" Not a soldier — not a follower — not a
groom,*' said Edgar sorrowfully rising —
" though I look not that you will credit me— •
not one is with me, nor yet within ten miles of
Woodleigh. Alone 1 have come hither, once
more to say adieu, and crave — what I have no
thing done to forfeit — a father's blessing \"

ei 'Tis well !" Sir Henry interrupted him in a
cold strain of the most cutting irony, ere he
had fully ended — " Excellent well, indeed ! — So
get you on with what you have to say — as I in
turn will presently do somewhat. Anthony,
get you hence and fetch us lights — it hath
grown dark betimes — and you, good Master
Hughson," he continued, turning toward the
yeoman, " will wait our leisure in the buttery.
Now ! get you on, son Edgar \"

" I did hope,'7 sadly replied the partisan,
" that your resentment, sir, had in so far abated,
that you might have endured without disgust
my passing visit ! To offer you the reasons for
my conduct, were, in your present mood, I fear

96 CROMWELL.

of no avail — suffice it therefore to inform you,
that though I may lose much, I can gain no
thing by the part I have espoused. That neither
power nor place, nor bribe of woman's love, nor
proffered rank, nor yet the baser meed of gold,
hath tempted me — that neither gift n«r guerdon
will recompense my service; nor aught else, save
the inward quiet of an innocent heart, and the
most high approval of HIM who alone can in
terpret it. But of this enough ! — This deed, if
I mistake not, which now but waits your signa
ture, is destined to deprive me of my heritage.
My father, as the last save me in the entail,
and I proclaimed a traitor/5 he continued,
turning toward the lawyer, " hath, as you
deem it, the power to alienate this property.
Hold ! interrupt me not. — It may be that he
hath — provided always that the party which
proclaimed me traitor shall come off victorious
in the end, and masters ! — If not your deed is
nothing. But think not" — and he turned again
toward his father — " think not, I do beseech

CROMWELL. 97

you, sir, that I would for one moment conde
scend so to inherit what you would not that I
should possess ! Annul this futile deed — and
I, the last in tail, will join with you to sever
that entail for ever ! Let this man execute the
papers, and, whensoever needed, my signature
shall be forthcoming ! So, whether King or
Commons win the day, shall you be sole dis
poser of your broad possessions. The son
whom you abhor will freely barter all for one
short word of kindness — for one last blessing
from a father — at whose command how gladly
would he sacrifice all, save his conscience and
his honour!"

"I take you at your proffer," rejoined the
baronet, without one symptom of relenting in his
hard eye, without one sign of soft or kind emotion
at the devote^ generosity of his discarded son.
" Base knaves, although they be, with whom
you have descended to consort, I can rejoice
you have not lost all your nobility of soul. I
take you at your proffer. Affix your signature

VOL. II. F

98 CROMWELL.

and seal to this blank parchment — for it may
well be, we shall never meet again — and here I
pledge to you my knightly word of honour,
that it shall be applied as you desire, and to no
other end."

A large tear stood on either cheek of Edgar, as

with a steady hand, and firm though darkened

countenance, he signed his name in bold free

characters, and so surrendered for himself and

for his heirs the title to that noble patrimony,

which for so many ages had been graced by the

high virtues of his ancestry. But the tear

flowed not, nor was the brow overcast, for any

selfish thought — by any sorrow for the wealth

thus forfeited — by any fond regret for the old

home of happier days thus lost for ever. At other

times such feelings would have been busy about

his heart — would have, perhaps, excluded every

other sentiment ; but now it was the coldness of

the father's tone, the stern and firm resolve of

hatred which had possessed the father's heart,

that clouded the broad forehead, and dimmed

CROMWELL. 99

his eye. Quietly he replaced the pen upon the
standish, and once more sinking on his knee,
" Father," he said, in faltering and husky tones,
e( I never yet, save in this one respect, have dis
obeyed or grieved you ; your blessing, oh my
father!"

" My blessing to a rebel, to a hypocrite, a
traitor ! — Not though my life should pay for my
refusal P thundered the pitiless old cavalier.
" Be grateful that I curse you not ; — be grateful,
not to me, but to yon pale and suffering angel,
whom your false villany hath blighted, for she
alone withholds it. Begone ! — why tarry you ?
Begone, and never let me look upon you more !
Begone, an outcast from my heart for ever !"

For a minute's space he stood, fixed as the
eldest-born of Niobe, pierced by the arrow of
the vengeful god — pale, motionless, voiceless.
The wretched girl had sunk at the last fearful
words, mercifully deprived, for a short space,
of sentiment and reason. His father stood be
tween them, with flashing eyes and arms ex-
F 2

100 CROMWELL.

tended, as if he waited but a pretext to launch
upon his head the awful terrors of a paternal
curse. It was but for a minute that he stood,
doubtful and unresolved — his pulse beat hur
riedly, his sinews quivered, his lip paled with
anguish — yet in one little minute was the pa
roxysm ended. " Bless you, my father, bless
you !" he exclaimed, in piteous and heart-rending
tones. " May the Great Ruler of the universe
protect and bless you ! Oh ! may you never
know the anguish you have this day heaped,
fiercer than the coals of fire, on the heart of a
despairing child ! Farewell — farewell!"

He turned, and ere a word could be pro
nounced, or a motion made to intercept him,
vanished into the darkness of the hall. Then,
and not till then, did the hot anger of the old
man's heart relent

"Edgar," he gasped, in faint and faltering
tones, — "my boy — my boy !"

But so low was the intonation of his voice,
that it reached not the ears of him who would

CROMWELL. 101

\

have welcomed those half-uttered words, even
as a voice from heaven. The aged servant, who
had watched the scene in silent agony, sprang
forth as to recal him ; but again it was too late.
The angry clatter of his horse's hoofs upon the
pavement of the court alone announced the
keenness of the goad that rankled in the bosom
of the rider ; and ere an effort could be made to
overtake his flight, the demon pride had once
more gained ascendancy, and with a darker
frown, and colder accents than before, Sir Henry
now forbade all further care — consigned his hap
less niece to her attendants — gave brief direc
tions to the lawyer for the fulfilment of his cruel
policy — mounted his horse, and rode away self-
satisfied and stern through the chill darkness of
the wintry camp, to join the King at Oxford
ere he should raise the standard for his second
sad campaign.

102 CROMWELL.

CHAPTER IV.

Flourisb'd the trumpets fierce, and DOW

Fired was each eye, and flush'd each brow.

On either side loud clamours ring, —

" God and the cause !"— " God and the King !"—

Right English all they rush'd to blows

With nought to win, and all to lose,

I could have laugh 'd — but lack'd the time —

To see, in phrenesy sublime,

How the fierce zealots fought and bled

For King or State, as humour led.

SCOTT'S Rokeby.

THE winter had already passed away^ and
with it every hope of present reconciliation be
tween the monarch and his parliament. Early

CROMWELL. 103

in March the royal hosts were in the field, one
in the western counties, commanded by the
King in person, and the most dashing of his
generals, impetuous Rupert ; another in the
north, under the gallant Newcastle — the noblest
gentleman and most accomplished soldier who
fought beneath the banners of his sovereign.

During the first months of the year the tide
of fortune had flowed constantly in favour of
the cavaliers. In March a desperate action,
fought upon Hopton heath, near Stafford, had
made small compensation to the parliament, by
the death of brave Northampton, for the defeat
of Gell and Brereton. Rupert had taken
Cirencester, treating his captives with unmanly
and relentless cruelty ; and shortly afterwards,
in the same sort, had captured and half-burnt
the flourishing and wealthy town of Birming
ham. Nor had the occupation of Reading by
the Earl of Essex brought any thing except dis
aster and disease upon its captors.

A dangerous conspiracy had broken out

104 CROMWELL.

among the puritans ; and, though suppressed
and punished by the deaths of the two Hoth-
amsj Challoner, and Tompkins, had yet led
many to believe that seeds of discord were
sown among the democratic party, which would,
ere long, destroy their unanimity for ever.

A heavier and more fatal loss befel, not his
own party merely, but the whole realm of Eng
land, in the untimely death of Hampden, who
was mortally wounded in a trivial skirmish upon
Chalgrave field, in Buckingham. He died, as
he had lived, a patriot — a martyr to the cause
of freedom — his last breath, ere he rendered up
his spirit to his Maker, expended in a prayer for
his oppressed and bleeding country.

Nor had the partisans of liberty fared much
more hopefully in the north ; Sir Thomas Fair
fax, after a short but unsuccessful stand against
the Earl of Newcastle, on Atherton Moor, was
compelled to retreat before his victors^ who
pressed on with much energy and vigour to
recover Gainsborough, which had been stormed

CROMWELL. 105

and garrisoned by the Lord Willoughby upon
the parliament's behalf. In this important
aim they scarcely could have failed, had not
the leader of the ironsides, with his brave ca
valry (augmented in their numbers to full two
thousand men by Ardenne's junction — having
already greatly signalized himself by the defeat
of a superior force of royalists before the walls
of Grantham, and, by the storm of Burleigh
House and Stamford), gallantly interposed be
tween the town and Newcastle's advance.

The enemy, amounting to above three times
his number, under Lieutenant-general Cavendish,
the brother of the Marquis, flushed with their
late success — composed of picked men for
the most, officered by gentlemen of equal gal
lantry and rank, and animated by the highest
spirit of loyal bravery — had occupied, more
over, a position so commanding, that they could
only be assailed by passing through a gateway,
and charging up a steep declivity. Yet not for
this did Cromwell hesitate an instant, but per-

F3

106 CROMWELL.

sonally leading on his troopers, he resolutely
rushed upon them, and, after a brisk conflict,
routed them utterly, forcing them from their
position into a deep morass, and killing Caven
dish with most of their superior officers.

Burning for vengeance, the main body of the
royalists, neglecting Gainsborough, pushed on,
and with such overwhelming numbers, that
Cromwell was compelled to fall back first on
Lincoln, and thence immediately on Boston,
uniting there his forces with the army of the
Earl of Manchester, whom he had been ap
pointed with all speed to reinforce, as second
in command to that stanch nobleman. Upon
this point Newcastle marched, eager for battle,
and desirous to engage before the host of Man
chester should be increased by new accessions,
which, as he learned, were swelling day by day
his ranks ; detaching Sir John Henderson, an
old and well-proved soldier, in advance with
eighty-seven troops, horse and dragoons, to
seek out Cromwell, and bring him, ere the earl

CROMWELL. 107

should aid him with his infantry, to action at a
disadvantage.

It was a glorious morning in the latter part of
June, when, at an hour so early that the heavy
dews of summer were yet hanging unexhaled
on wold and woodland, although the sun had
lifted his broad disk above the clear horizon,
the two armies came in view on Winsley field,
near Horncastle. It was a gallant and a graceful
spectacle as ever met the eye of man. The
scene was a broad and waving tract of moorish
meadow land, checkered with many a patch
of feathery coppice — birch, ash, and alder —
tufts of furze full of its golden bloom, and
waving fern ; and here and there a bare gray
rock peering above the soil, or a clear pool of
water reflecting the white clouds that hung
aloft, all motionless in the blue firmament — and
over this romantic champaign a magnificent
array of horse, four thousand, at the least, in
numbers, contracting or extending their bright
squadrons, now falling into column, and now

108 CROMWELL.

deploying into line, as best they might among
the obstacles of this their battle-ground — their
polished armour, and their many-coloured scarfs,
now flashing out superbly as the sunshine kissed
their masses with its golden light, now sobered
into mellower hues as some great cloud flitted
across the sky, and cast its sweeping shadow
over them — their trumpets ever and anon wak
ing the echoes of the woodlands that surrounded
them on every side, with their exulting notes,
and their gay standards fluttering in the breeze
— their gallant chargers, arching their necks
against the curb, bounding and curvetting along
as if they panted for the onset — while toward
the eastern limits of the plain, upon a gentle
elevation, flanked on the one side by the gulley
of a deep and stony brook, and on the other by
a coppice, tangled with ancient thorns, and
matted with wild rose-briars, which protected
likewise the whole rear of his position, Cromwell
had formed his line.

Nor, though inferior far in numbers, and

CROMWELL. 109

lacking all that chivalrous and splendid decora
tion which their floating plumes and gorgeous
dresses lent to the cavaliers, could the puritans'
dark squadrons have been looked upon without
attention, ay and admiration also, by the most
unromantic of observers. The admirable discipline
and perfect armature of the stern zealots who
composed the ranks — the plain, but soldierly
and bright accoutrements— the horses superior
even to the chargers of the royalists in blood
and bone and beauty, and above all in that
precise and jealous grooming, without which all
the rest are little worth — the grim and stubborn
countenances of the riders — some animated with
a fiery zeal that would have smiled exultingly
upon the stake of martyrdom, some lowering
with a dark and sullen scowl, but all severe
and resolute and dauntless ! a single glance
sufficed to tell that every battle-field to them
must be a triumph or a grave !

Silent they stood and motionless — their long
array drawn up, two deep, by squadrons at

110 CROMWELL.

brief intervals — solemn and voiceless — present
ing a strange contrast to the shifting movements
and the intricate mano3uvres of their approach
ing enemy. Not a man moved in his saddle,
not a sound broke the quiet of their discipline,
save now and then the stamp and neigh of an
unruly charger, or the sharp clatter of his steel
caparison. And now the cavaliers, within a
short mile's distance, having already cleared the
broken ground, might be seen halting on the
further verge of the smooth space, which swept
away toward them in a gentle slope, un marred
by bush or brake or obstacle of any kind to
the career of the most timid rider; when, with
some three or four of his most trusty captains,
Cromwell advanced before his lines.

Of stout ungainly stature when dismounted,
none showed to more advantage on his war-
horse, and in full caparison of battle, than did
the colonel of the ironsides. It was not that
his seat was graceful, or that he ruled his
charger with the ease of the manege, but that

CROMWELL. Ill

he swayed him with an absolute dominion,
which seemed to arise rather from his mere
volition, than from the exercise of strength or
skill. His whole soul seemed engrossed by the
approaching conflict — careless of self — exalted,
and enthusiastical. His eyes flashed with a
brightness almost supernatural, from the dark
shadow of his morion, and his whole visage
wore an aspect so irradiate with energy and
mind, that Edgar wondered how he ever could
have deemed him ill-favoured or ungraceful.
His horse, a superb black, bore him as if he too
were conscious of divine authority; and such
was the commanding greatness of his whole
appearance, that no human eye could have
descended to remark the plainness of his war-
array.

Of the small group of officers, who rode
beside the bridle of their leader, the most were
ordinary-looking men, burghers of Huntingdon,
or small esquires of the surrounding country,
selected for the stations which they occupied

1 1 2 CROMWELL.

by the wise politician who had levied them, on
account of those morose and gloomy tenets
which, with an early prescience, he discovered
to be the only power that might cope with the
high spirit of the gentlemen, who formed the
bulk of their antagonists. Men who affected,
or imagined, visions and transports — who be
lieved themselves predestined instruments, and
deemed that in the slaying of malignants they
were doing an especial service to the God
whose chosen servants they asserted themselves,
with a conviction of the truth which rendered
them almost invincible.

Among these plain and heavy-looking sol
diers, the form of Ardenne, high-born and full
of the intuitive and untaught grace of noble
blood, gallantly armed, and handsomely attired
(for he was not one of those who fancied that the
approbation of heaven could be won by a rusty
corslet, or an ill-blacked boot), mounted on a
dark chestnut, high bred, yet powerful enough
to bear a man-at-arms fully accoutred through

CROMWELL. 113

the longest day, showed like a glorious falcon
among a tribe of vultures. Yet even he, hand
some and young, and fairly clad, filled not the
eye like the majestic person of his colonel.

At a quick trot, they swept along the lines,
inspecting their array, with now a word of com
mendation, and now a short reproof, to the dark
fanatics who had been chosen lance-pesades or
sergeants for their savage and enthusiastic hu
mour. Just as they finished their career, a long
and cheery shout, accompanied and blended
with the clang of kettledrums and the shrill
flourish of their trumpets, burst from the co
lumns of the cavaliers, now wheeling into line,
and eager for the onset. No shout, nor burst
of instruments replied from the parliamenta
rians, but their leader at the sound checking his
charger from his speed till he reared bolt up
right, threw forth his arm with a proud gesture
of defiance.

" Brethren \" he called aloud in accents
harsh, but clearly audible, and thrilling to the

114 CROMWELL.

heart — " Brethren and fellow-soldiers in the
Lord — the men of Belial are before you — the
persecutors of the saints — the spillers of the
innocent blood — godless and desperate ! — slayers
of babes and sucklings — ravishers of maids and
matrons — revilers of the prophets and the law
— accursed of the Lord Jehovah ! — Wherefore,
faint not, nor be of feeble heart, for surely, on
this day, shall the Lord yield them up into your
hands, that ye may work his vengeance on
their heads, and execute his judgments. For
said he not of old, l Lo ! I will tread them in
my anger, and trample them in my fury ! and
their blood shall be sprinkled upon my gar
ments, and I will stain all my raiment. For
the day of vengeance is in my heart, and the
year of my redeemed is come.' So saith the
Lord of Hosts. — Amen ! Amen ! Selah !"

And, with a deep and sullen hum, the puri
tans took up the words — e' So saith the Lord of
Hosts.— Amen ! Amen ! Selah !"

" And are not we," continued the fierce zealot,

CROMWELL. 115

with increasing energy, <c and are not we —
blinded although we be, and ignorant and sinful —
I ask ye, brethren, are not we the chosen of the
Lord, and shall we not obey his bidding ?
Smite them then — smite the idolatrous besotted
followers of the old antichrist, even as just
Elijah slew the priests of Baal down at the
brook of Kishon. Be strong, and fear ye not.
For lo ! the Lord hath said, ' Ye shall not suffer
one of them to live P and who are we, that we
should now gainsay the bidding of the Lord,
even the Lord of Hosts ? Lift up your voices
then, that yon malignants may perceive in
whom we put our trust."

Again, and in a sterner and more heartfelt
shout, the approbation of the puritans greeted
their leader's ears ; and, as he ceased, with bran
dished blades, and inflamed features, and with
voices that drowned utterly the feebler music of
the cavaliers, already confident of victory, and
maddened with religious zeal, they thundered
forth their favourite hymn.

116 CROMWELL.

" What saith the God of battles, the mighty Lord of Hosts ?
Ye shall prevail against them, though loud their godless boasts !
Ye shall destroy them utterly, and root them from the land,
For I will give ye strength, and edge your battle-brand !

' ' At the rebuke of one shall mighty thousands fly,
For I have heard my people's prayer, their sad and grievous cry !
And I will raise my glorious voice, that it be heard afar,
And show the lightning of my hand — my right hand — in the war.

" Wo unto them that put their trust in the Egyptian's crown j
His horsemen and his chariots ! his power and his renown !
The Egyptian he is man, not God, in whom they put their trust ;
His horses are not spirit, but of frail and fleeting dust!

" When I stretch out my hand, together they shall fall,
The helper and the holpeu, yea ! shall quickly perish all !
Of old ordain'd was Tophet ; for the King it was made hot,
As thorns, that in the furnace blaze, or briers beneath the pot.

" But ye, ye are my people ; ye the ransom'd of my soul !
Glory shall be your heritage, Jerusalem your goal !
The sceptre shall not leave ye, and the crown shall not depart
From the faithful house of Judah, from the chosen of my heart!"

The fierce strains ceased, and a loud accla
mation followed them, solemnly breathing a
sublime, yet savage spirit of defiance, and was
responded to immediately by the huzzas of the

CROMWELL. 117

advancing cavaliers, and the rich symphonies of
horn and kettledrum.

A small reserve of some five hundred men was
posted in the rear, and, in one mighty line, the
rest swept forward at a brisk trot, the front rank
with their carabines all unslung and matches
lighted. Cromwell gazed steadfastly upon them
for an instant, then his eye lightened, and his
lip curled scornfully, as he addressed his second
in command.

" Lieutenant-colonel Ardenne," he exclaimed,
" dismount two hundred of our best dragooners,
and, under Fight-the-good-fight Egerton, let
them file down that gulley to our left, and fire
constantly on the advance of these misproud
malignants !"

Without a moment's pause the order was
transmitted and obeyed, and, ere five minutes
had elapsed, the party was detached and
scrambling down the rocky bed of the ravine
unnoted by the royalists, under the guidance of
as morose and bold a puritan as ever levelled
musket, or misquoted holy writ.

118 CROMWELL.

" Sir Edmund Winthrop," Oliver continued,
" your stout lieutenant shall hold your regiment,
as our reserve, here on this ground of vantage ;
but shall not stir from it, unless at your com
mand or mine. We will not tarry for their
charge, but meet them horse to horse — an onset
of alternate squadrons. I lead the first division,
you shall support me with the second. When
you shall hear my bugle sound a recal and
rally, then strike in, and the Lord strike with
you. 'Truth' is our word, and ' Peace.' Amen,
Selah !"

Even as he spoke, the royalists gave fire from
their first rank ; but at too great a distance to
do execution, and halted to reload. e( Steady,
men!" shouted Cromwell (his sword not yet
drawn) from the extreme left, as he perceived
a demonstration of anxiety to charge among
his troopers. " Steady, men; let them come
nigher, and when they fire again, shoot ye also
upon their flash, through your whole line ; and
instantly alternate squadrons from the left
charge on them ere they may reload."

CROMWELL. 119

Scarce had he ended, ere the line again ad
vanced on a hard trot — a single shot rang from
the gulley, broken and fringed with thorns and
alder-bushes — another, and another — a rapid
and continuous fire of skirmishers, picking off
half a score of officers, arid throwing the right
wing of the royalists into some slight confusion.
On, however, they still came, their banners
rustling, and their gay plumes and baldrics
fluttering in the wind, as, trusting to make
such impression on the main host of the puri
tans as should cause their ambuscade to be of
no effect, they hurried to the onset. On they
came, resolute and dauntless. Their bugle

' O

sounded for the gallop, for the charge, and, at
the latter call, again the levelled carabines rose
to the riders' cheeks — a bright flash ran along
their line, and a dense veil of smoke covered
their orderly and brilliant front.

Before the smoke cleared away, the shattering
volley of the puritans, poured in with a deliberate
aim, made fearful havoc in their ranks, and, on
the instant, casting aside their matchlocks, and

120 CROMWELL.

whirling their long rapiers from the scabbard,
one half of the squadrons of the parliament hurled
themselves furiously upon the advancing foe.

Eagerly, anxiously did Edgar gaze upon the
charge. On went the colonel of the ironsides,
six horses5 lengths in front of his division, and
as gallantly out dashed a leader of the King's
to meet him. They met, and it was but an
instant, ere the charger of the royalist ran
masterless, and its unhappy owner rolled, welt
ering in blood, beneath the trampling hoofs of
the fierce puritans.

There was no faltering — no doubt in either
line — forward they rushed, all straining to the
charge, their horses foaming and struggling
against the bit, and their swords flashing in the
sunlight.

Edgar unsheathed his rapier, for now a horse's
length scarce intervened ; yet neither host had
paused or turned aside. And now they were
encountering, when the rear rank of the cavaliers
threw in, with desperate execution, their re
served volley, shaking the line of the parliamen-

CROMWELL. 121

arians like an earthquake, emptying scores of
addles, and hurling riders and horses headlong
to the earth.

The smoky curtain once again swept over
them ; it cleared away, and Ardenne saw his
fellow-troopers, unbroken and in close array, so
orderly had they closed in above the falling, now
mingled hand to hand, and fighting with the
cavaliers, whose front was bending like a bow .
the points on which the troops of Oliver had
charged, beat backward a full pistol-shot, and
the alternate squadrons which had met no foe,
wavering and undecided what to do. Sword
cuts were glancing through the air on helm
and corslet, pistol-shots flashed among the
melee ; and the shouts, "God and the Church !"
"God and the King !" blended with groans, and
yells, and curses, and the clash of blades, and
the wild blast of trumpets, pealed dissonantly
to the sky.

Still Cromwell's bugle sounded not, nor were
his men drawn off; and Ardenne paused in

VOL. II. G

122 CROMWELL.

doubt. His eye fell suddenly upon the form of
Oliver fighting among the foremost — another
volley from a small knot of cavaliers, and he
fell, horse and man — and the strife closed more
fiercely round him ; at the same instant the
reserve of Henderson moved up to reinforce his
battle. Then Edgar paused no longer — "For
ward ! " he shouted in a voice of thunder.
" Forward — charge home \" and, dashing down
the grassy slope, before a minute passed, burst
like a thunderbolt upon the unengaged divisions
of the enemy, and, killing two men with his own
hand, drove them in terrible confusion, by the
fury of his onset, back on their own reserve.

Turning his eye, now he had gained a mo
ment's leisure, toward the spot where he had
seen his colonel fall, he caught a glimpse of him
on foot, fighting with desperate courage against
some six or seven horsemen, who were hewing
at him all together with their long broadswords,
and hindering each other by their own impetu
osity. Three strokes of Ardenne's good sword,

CROMWELL. 123

and the exertions of his superb charger, placed
him at Cromwell's side, just as he fell to earth,
stunned, but unwounded, by a heavy blow.
One of the cavaliers received the point of Ed
gar's rapier in his throat before he checked his
horse ; the others were engaged and beaten
backward by the foremost of his troopers.
Hastily springing to the ground, as Oliver re
gained his feet — " Mount!" he exclaimed, —
" mount, Colonel Cromwell, on my horse, and
finish what so well we have begun !"

Without a word the zealot leaped to the
saddle, cast his eyes with a quick comprehen
sive glance around him, and read the fortunes
of the day upon the instant.

" They are half-beaten now !" he shouted in
exulting tones ; " one charge more, and we
sweep them like the dust before the winds of
heaven ! Away, sir, down with the reserve,
and fall upon their left flank. I will draw off
my men, and, ere you be in action, will be pre-

G2

124 CROMWELL.

pared to give it them again in front. Ho »
"bugler," he continued, as Ardenne, mounting
his brown mare, which his equerry had led up,
galloped off swiftly to the rear — " Ho ! bugler,
sound me a recal and rally ! "

The shrill notes of the instrument rang aloud
above the din of battle, and with that strict obedi
ence, for which they had already gained repute,
the ironsides drew off from the encounter in the
most orderly manner, and formed beautifully
again before the shattered and disordered masses
of the cavaliers had fallen into any semblance of
array.

In the mean time Ardenne had reached his
regiment, the men burning to emulate the glory
half achieved by their companions, the horses
pawing the turf, and snorting with impatience.
A loud shout greeted him, as he addressed them
in a few words terse and full of fire, formed
them by troops in open column, arid advanced
between the coppice on his right and the ex-

CROMWELL. 125

treme left of the enemy, now near a quarter of
a mile pushed forward beyond their right and
centre, which had been most disordered by the
fire of the skirmishers, and Cromwell's furious
charge. So great, indeed, was the confusion of
the Royalists, their officers toiling along the
ranks, labouring with oaths, and menaces, and
exhortations, to rally and reform the men, that
they perceived not Ardenne's movement till he
was wheeling into line to the left, previous to
charging them. Then, when it was too late,
they struggled to redeem their error nobly, but
fruitlessly ; for, ere they could show front against
him, the trumpets sounded — Oliver's in front,
and Edgar's in the flank — and simultaneously
they were charged, broken, and dispersed.

The action was already over, but the rout, the
flight, the havoc, the despair, the hideous undis-
criminating massacre, urged to the utmost by
religious fury and political rancour, ceased not
till noon; when Cromwell's bugles, slowly and

126 CROMWELL.

most reluctantly obeyed, called back the men
from the hard-pressed pursuit, their weapons
blunted and their arms aweary, but their hearts
insatiate of carnage.

o

CROMWELL. 127

CHAPTER V.

* * upon the bloody field
The eddying tides of conflict wheel'd
Ambiguous, till that heart of flame
Hot Rupert on our squadrons came,
Hurling against our spears a line
Of gallants fiery as their wine ;
Then ours, though stubborn in their zeal,
In zeal's despite began to reel.
*****

Brave Cromwell turn'd the doubtful tide,
And conquest bless'd the rightful side.

SCOTT'S Rokeby.

THOUGH but of brief duration and trifling
magnitude, as to the number of the troops en-

128 CROMWELL.

gaged on either hand, yet was the victory of
Cromwell upon Wensley field of vast import
ance, when considered in its bearings on the
general aspect of the war, since by it only was
the Marquis of Newcastle prevented from co
operating with the royal forces in the west;
when elevated as they were in spirit by the
defeat of Waller upon Roundway Down, and
the disgraceful fall of Bristol, they might too
probably have marched triumphantly to the
metropolis, had they been reinforced, as they
expected, by the northern chivalry.

In consequence of this repulse then. New
castle sat down before the walls of Hull $ while
Charles, thus disappointed in his schemes, as
fatally laid siege to Gloucester, which he was
soon compelled to raise by the activity of
Essex.

The desperate drawn battle before Newbury
ensued, signal for nothing but the death of the
good Falkland, the only counsellor that now
remained about the King who could be deemed

CROMWELL. . 129

a patriot, or a true lover of the English con
stitution. The Hampden of the Royalists, this
gallant nobleman fell with his country's name
the last sound on his lips, but fell not till he had
become aweary of a life, which was so imbit-
tered by the disasters of his native land, that he
was wont to sink, even when circled by the
gayest of his friends, into desponding apathy,
and to reiterate, after deep silence and conti
nual sighs, with a shrill sad accent, the words
" Peace! Peace!"

The winter which succeeded was by the cava
liers spun out in feuds, dissensions, and intrigues
among themselves, the King remaining obsti
nately bent on prostrating all opposition to his
will, and countenancing such alone of his ad
visers as urged the fiercest and most downright
measures.

Not so the parliament at Westminster, in
which the independent party were by the deaths
of Hampden first and afterward of Pym, gaining
c3

130 CROMWELL.

an ascendancy which was increasing daily
through the abilities of Cromwell^ St. John,
and the younger Vane, the leading politicians
and debaters of the lower house. The energy
and deep-laid shrewdness of these men suffered
not one false step, however trivial, on the part
of Charles, to pass unnoticed or unimproved to
their advantage; and ere the spring was far
enough advanced for the commencement of
a thicd campaign, they- had so thoroughly aroused
the spirit of the land, inflamed already by the
King's impolitic and shameful treaty with the
rebellious catholics of Ireland, that early in the
month of March five several armies were on
foot.

Essex, preparing to oppose the King in per
son ; Waller commanding in the west ; the
Scotch, who had invaded England in accord
ance with the conditions of the solemn league
and covenant, and Fairfax with his Yorkshire
levies shutting up Newcastle in York; and

CROMWELL. 131

Manchester, with Cromwell's cavalry, hurrying
from the associated counties of the east toward
the same important point.

And now for the first time, since the com
mencement of the war, did fortune show herself
in favour of the liberal party. The total and
complete annihilation of Lord Hopton's force at
Alresford by Waller was in itself sufficient to
compel even Charles to give up all attempt at
a campaign on the offensive. Nor was this all,
for Newcastle's express advised him that he
must surrender, unless succoured in the brief
space of three weeks.

It was on this intelligence that Rupert, having
achieved much reputation and some eminent
successes in that large county, marched out of
Lancashire with all the flower of the Royalists
drawn from the midland counties, burning with

' O

gallant ardour, confident in their successful
leader, appointed with a noble train of ordnance,
and reinforced by Goring's excellent brigades of
horse from Lincolnshire, hastening ably and no

132 CROMWELL.

less fortunately to the relief of York, reduced
already to extremity, and on the point of yield
ing to the parliament.

During the dark and melancholy winter, which
had thus elapsed, Ardenne in his attendance
on his duties whether civil, in the House at
Westminster, or active in the field, had strug
gled with more of steadiness than of success to
banish from his heart the recollection of his own
depressed and well-nigh hopeless circumstances.
Of his implacable and stubborn father he had
heard but little since their last interview at
Woodleigh ; save that a copy of the document
for the securing the estates to Sibyl and break
ing the entail had been transmitted to him for
inspection : and that a rumour, as it proved
well founded, had reached London that the old
baronet, having been strenuous and incessant in
stimulating warlike measures, had quitted Ox
ford in the dead of winter, dismantled his fine
residence and thrown himself together with his
niece into the capital of Yorkshire, some short

CROMWELL. 133

time only ere it was invested by the united troops
of Fairfax, and the Earl of Devon.

Such was the state of matters, when on a
lovely evening of July, some few days after the
strong succours under Manchester and Crom
well had joined the northern army, Edgar re
turned from a reconnaissance, which he had
been sent to execute with his whole regiment in
that direction, in consequence of rumours that the
cavaliers had been observed in force toward the
neighbouring towns of Wetherby and Barnham.

During the two days which had been con
sumed in scouring thoroughly that district of
the country, Ardenne had discovered nothing to
justify in any sort the vague reports, which had
prevailed ere his departure from the carnp ; and
it was therefore much to his amazement that he
perceived the forces of the parliament drawing
off from the siege in no small hurry and confu
sion, and forming line of battle upon Marston
Moor some eight miles to the westward of the
city.

134 CROMWELL.

It was not without strenuous exertion, that
Ardenne found at length the post assigned to
his immediate superior, now lieutenant-general
of the horse, who was intently occupied with
Lesley, Fairfax, Manchester, and others of the
chief commanders, in ordering their army so as
to interrupt the gallant host of royalists, some
twenty thousand strong, with which Prince
Rupert had wellnigh surprised them in their
trenches.

Night fell upon them, ere the task was well
completed ; yet such was the determination and
the spirit of the leaders, such the quick appre
hension and obedience of the soldiery, that by
the aid of torches and the long summer twilight,
their position was made good ; and that too on
the strongest ground that could be chosen from
the extensive, low, and somewhat marshy mea
dows lying between the Ouse and the great
northern road.

Provisions were served out with liquor in
abundance, to the troops, who for the most

CROMWELL. 135

part passed the night upon their arms, though
some were quartered in the neighbouring vil
lages, commanding the anticipated line of
Rupert's march. Patroles of horse and foot
swept the surrounding roads; the officers with
jealous zeal made constant circuits of the host,
their progress being clearly indicated by the
acclamations of the men, and the loud psalms
of exultation and defiance which usually an
swered their inspiriting addresses.

Yet was their active energy on this occasion
destined to be wasted ; for scarcely was their
host arrayed, ere the discharge of ordnance from
the town, and the tremendous cheering, which
was distinctly borne to the ears of the now
disappointed puritans, announced that Rupert,
who by the aid of better information, and the
exertion of great military skill, had executed a
detour far to the right of their position, was
actually entering the beleaguered city from the
eastward side, whence they had drawn their
troops in the vain hope to intercept him.

136 CROMWELL.

Great was the consternation and dismay
which this discovery created in the breast not
of the privates only, but of the best and boldest
leaders of the parliament ; and in no less degree
did merriment and wild triumphant revelry pos
sess the citizens, relieved beyond their utmost
expectation. Throughout the livelong night
the eastern sky was reddened, wellnigh to the
zenith, by the crimson glare of bonfires blazing
in every street and place within the walls ; while
the square towers of the minster illuminated by
the fierce discoloured light were visible dis
tinctly at some miles' distance, their huge bells
swinging to and fro, a deafening peal of short
lived exultation. Upon the moor a council
was called instantly ; and sentries posted round
the quarters of the Scottish general, with the
avowed intention of maintaining an inviolable
secrecy concerning the debates of the stern
a rtialists assembled there. Such was, how
ever, the tumultuous and noisy character of the
discussion between the English officers and the

CROMWELL. 137

fanatical, enthusiastic, presbyterian clergy whom
the Scotch brought habitually into their warlike
councils, that no precautions could have hin
dered the entire army from perceiving that dis
sensions, fired by their religious differences, and
fed to wilder heat by prejudice and national
disgusts, had fallen with a perilous and most
pernicious influence upon their leaders.

It was now nearly dawn, when breaking up
their long protracted session, they at length
came forth. Despondency and gloom sat heavy
on the resolute and manly brow of Fairfax, as
he strode forth and leaped into his saddle,
without altering his garb, though in immediate
prospect of a general action. He was not in
deed utterly unarmed, for he had entered the
court-martial, with but brief time for ceremony,
after toiling from the preceding daybreak at
the excavation of the trenches ; yet did he lack
much of the heavy armature which was still
worn by officers in high command. A buff
coat richly laced with silver, its open sleeves

138 CROMWELL.

displaying the white satin of its lining1, stout
breeches of the same material fringed at the
knee with costly Flanders lace, and boots of
russet leather formed the chief part of his de
fensive dress, although he wore a short but
highly-polished breastplate, half covered by
his falling collar from the looms of Valenciennes,
and by the sash of crimson silk and gold which
was wound many times about his waist sup
porting his long silver-hiked broadsword. He
bore his truncheon in his hand, and, ere he
mounted, buckled on his head the open baginet
of steel, peculiar to the day, which an attendant
held in readiness.

Upon the faces of the other generals, anger,
irresolution, and disgust were variously bu^
strongly written ; and in the features of the
Scottish lords especially, Ardenne imagined he
could trace a settled disaffection for the service
they had bound themselves to execute. No
time was lost, however, and by a series of
manoeuvres, not less judiciously than rapidly

CROMWELL. 139

effected, the whole position of the army was
reformed, and taken up anew ; so that its front,
which had originally faced toward the west, as
to oppose an enemy advancing against York
from that direction, was now turned easterly in
readiness to meet the sally which they hoped,
rather than expected, to be made on them from
that same city.

Sir Thomas Fairfax, with his new-levied
Yorkshire cavalry, and three Scotch regiments
of horse, held the extreme right wing; and
next to him the infantry of the brave Lord
Fairfax, with two brigades of Scottish horse,
in readiness for his support. In the main body
and reserve were all the regiments of Scottish

^^ O

foot, appointed well and officered by their own
covenanting lords, and two of Manchester's
brigades ; while the left wing was occupied by
Cromwell with all his iron cavalry, and three
good regiments of northern cuirassiers, under
Lieutenant-general Leslie, and Colonel FrizelPs
regiment of Berwickshire dragoons, who did

140 CROMWELL.

good service in the action, posted yet further
to the left, by a cross ditch intersecting the
main dyke, which ran along the whole front of
the puritans, excepting a brief space before the
Earl of Manchester's pike-regiments.

The plain, upon the western side of which
the army was drawn up, was, on the whole,
well suited for a general action, being of con
siderable extent, entirely open, and untraversed
by any hedge or fence, save on the left, where
a long narrow lane, between high banks and
bushes of old thorn, debouched upon the field,
forming the only pass by which Fairfax could
cross the drain, and bring his horsemen into
action.

The rear of the Parliamentarians was covered
by the thickly-planted orchards, each with its
quickset fence, the narrow garths and gardens
surrounded by stout walls of limestone, and the
young plantations around the straggling village
of Long Marston ; which, with its solid cottages
of masonry, would form an excellent and easily

CROMWELL. 141

defended point whereon to fall back, if repulsed
from their original position ; while on both
wings the strong enclosures of the pasture
fields, studded with hedge-row timber, would
present most serious obstacles to any movement
of the enemy to overflank them.

Of all the generals, it seemed to Edgar that
Cromwell was the least disturbed in mind or
aspect ; yet even he, as he addressed his iron
sides, spoke not with the short, terse, and ener
getic style which he was wont to use when he
chose to be understood, but in interminable and
confused harangues, resembling more the doc
trinal discourses of a fanatical and visionary
preacher, than the heart-stirring oratory of a
dauntless captain; nor did he hesitate to declare
openly to Ardenne, when at a little distance
from the troopers — " That of a truth there was
sore need of prayer and supplication — not of
lip-service or knee-bending — but of soul-search
ing cries, of earnest and continual wrestling with

142 CROMWELL.

the Lord ; for verily, unless he work great things
this day in Israel's behalf, verily, Edgar Ar-
denne, you shall behold this host melting away
like snow before the April sunshine — unless the
God, even the God of battles, harden the hearts
and blind the understandings of yon perverse
and fiery Rupert, even as of yore he hardened
the heart of Pharaoh, that he might bring him
to destruction with his captains and his chariots,
and his horsemen — unless he do all this and
more, I tell thee we shall fall into the pit our
selves have digged ! If the prince have but
wisdom to abide in yon fenced city, which he
has won from us, then shall you see the carnal-
minded, and the feeble-witted of the host —
those who, like babes and sucklings, may not
endure the rich meats and strong waters of the
woods — those who are ill-assured, self-seekers,
and backsliders — then shall you see all these,
•and they outnumber half our army, falling away
by tens, by hundreds, and by thousands ! But

CROMWELL. 143

lo !" he added, in a quick clear voice, strangely
at variance with the drawling snuffle he had
thus far adopted — " Whom have we here ?
Tidings, I trow, from my lord-general."

As he spoke, a youthful officer dashed at a
hasty gallop up to his side, and checking, for a
moment's space, his fiery horse, " The earl,"
he cried, " lieutenant-general, prays you will
hold yourself in readiness for instant action !
Rupert and Newcastle are even now without
the gates, and marching hitherward to fight
with us !"

" Said I not," shouted Oliver, as loudly that
every one of his own cavalry might catch the
import of his words, — " said I not that the
Lord would harden the heart of our foe, and
blind his understanding? The Lord he is on
our side; blessed be the name of the Lord !"

And instantly he raised, with his own tongue,
the first notes of a hymn, in which he was ac
companied at once by full five thousand deep
and manly voices.

144 CROMWELL.

" Not unto us — not unto us be given

The glory and the praise —

Nor to the mortal sword.
Though shrewdly we have striven

Long nights, and bloody days,

But unto thee, O Lord !"

The fierce sounds rolled along the front, from
corps to corps, till one half of the host had
kindled with the same enthusiastic confidence,
and swelled the same high chorus ! It was one
of those bright flashes of that brightest talent
in a leader, the talent of inspiring trust, of
awakening energy and zeal, of lighting into
sudden flame the hearts of thousands by a
single word — a talent, by the way, in which no
captain ever has excelled, and probably but
two* have ever, in the least degree, approached
the wondrous man who was that very day about
to make himself a reputation with the mightiest.

As the thunders of that glorious psalm rolled
onward, gaining strength at every pause, and

* Mahomet and Napoleon.

CROMWELL. 145

echoing for miles around, doubt and despond
ency passed instantly away — pulses, that but an
hour before had throbbed with cold and feeble
beatings, now leaped exultingly — eyes, that had
rested sullenly upon the earth, flashed cheerfully
and vividly to the new risen sun — and tongues,
that had half uttered words of evil omen, and
almost of fear, now swelled the warlike anthem
to the skies.

Before the psalm had yet well ceased, and
while its echoes were still alive and ringing in
the ear, the pikeheads of the royal foot might
be seen twinkling in the level sunbeams, above
the coppices and furze brakes that fringed the
east side of the plain. And now a massive
column burst into open view, their bright steel
sallets and their coats of plate reflecting, in
broad sheets, the light which flashed in long
and dazzling streaks from their tall weapons,
as they wheeled from column into line — and
now a strong brigade of field artillery, its cais
sons and its tumbrels following, came rumbling

VOL. II. H

146 CROMWELL.

up at a full trot ; and now, with many a bla
zoned standard streaming, and a white sea of
plumes floating above them, squadron after
squadron of that superb and high-born cavalry,
to which the King owed all his previous vic
tories, rounded a distant wood, and formed in
accurate array upon the royal left. Then, as
these formed, the heads of column after column
debouched upon the plain, their mounted lead
ers darting along their flanks and fronts, their
music sounding joyously, and the thick tramp
ling of their march shaking the very ground
beneath them ; as these fell in, another train of
fieldpieces, and a yet more magnificent array of
horse wheeled up at the full gallop, and fronted
Crom well's ironsides at a mile's distance on the
open plain.

By seven of the clock both armies were in
full array of battle, facing each other — when a
gallant group of mounted officers advanced a
little from the centre of the cavaliers, and in-

CROMWELL. 147

stantly, amid the blare of trumpets and the
exulting shouts "God save the King!" of the
brave gentlemen who mustered under it, the
royal standard, with its gorgeous quarterings,
was displayed to the light breeze, which bore
its folds to their full length, and shook them
toward the squadrons of its unrelenting foes.

At the same moment, from the midst of the
dark masses of the puritans, coldly arrayed in
buff and plain gray steel, with neither scarf,
nor plume, nor lace of silver or of gold, to break
the dull monotony of their appearance, was
hoisted the blue banner of the covenant, bear
ing St. George's cross of red, but not yet inter
sected by the white diagonals of Scotland's
patron saint. The elevation of this broad dark-
coloured sheet was greeted by a stern and solemn
acclamation, as different from the wild and ani
mated clamour of the cavaliers, as is the deep
incessant booming of the ocean surf, from the
sharp, keen explosions of a thunder-storm.

Then followed a short pause — a fearful and
H 2

148 CROMWELL.

appalling interval of quiet, like the brief space
that often intervenes between the mustering of
the storm-clouds and the outbreaking of the
hurricane. The faces of the bravest paled, and
their pulses beat with a quickened and irregular
motion, not from the slightest touch of fear, but
from the intense violence of their excitement
Prayers were recited in this interval at the head
of every regiment among the Parliamentarians,
and many of the officers — and not a few even
of the private troopers — men whom the spirit of
the Lord had blessed with the high gift of ex
pounding mysteries — held forth in their wild
jargon, savouring to the ears of Edgar rather of
blasphemous and profane phrensy, than of devo
tion or well-ordered piety.

It was at this conjuncture — just as Cromwell
had concluded a long and fervent prayer, tinc
tured, at times, with true heartfelt religion,
bursting occasionally into gleams of real elo
quence, and throughout fixing the attention of
the zealots, who applauded him from time to

CROMWELL. 149

time with voice and gesture — that the same
group of officers which had displayed the royal
standard galloped in full career along the
whole front of the cavaliers midway between
the armies.

The leading officer, as Edgar gazed upon him
through his perspective glass, was a tall?
strongly-built, and splendidly-accoutred man,
superbly mounted on a jet black barb of the
tall breed of Dongola — his cuirass literally
blazed with stars and decorations of a dozen
military orders, his mantle of dark purple velvet
fringed and laid down with lace of gold three
inches broad, displayed the diamond insignia of
the garter, and his high-crowned Spanish hat
was overshadowed by an ostrich plume nearly
two feet in height. Yet were his features coarse
and ill-favoured, marked with a , supercilious
sneer, and an expression ill-humoured, haughty,
and imperious. His hair, which flowed far down
his shoulders, was harsh and quite uncurled.
His figure too, though tall and powerful, was

150 CROMWELL.

graceless — his body corpulent and gross, be*
traying symptoms of debauchery and licence,
as plainly as his countenance reflected a mind
despotic, brutal, and self-willed.

The most profound respect attended this per
son's swift passage through the lines, and ever
and anon some change of station, or some deli
cate manoeuvre was executed on his bidding.
But when he reached the extreme right of the
Royalists, he paused some time in deep and
earnest contemplation of the post occupied by
Cromwell with his cavalry, which were even
then engaged in chanting one of their vengeful
and prophetic hymns. Then sending off a dozen
officers, on the full spur, in different directions,
he cantered coolly forward with but two at
tendants, and these private troopers/till he was
scarce three musket-shots in front of the grim
ironsides. Here he again drew in his horse,
leaped to the ground, and, levelling his glass
upon the pommel of his demipique, swept the
array of Oliver with careful scrutiny.

CROMWELL. 151

Edgar had from the first concluded that this
leader was no other than the impetuous and
daring Rupert ; but had he doubted it, the bit
ter imprecations and fierce shouts of the excited
puritans, to whom his cruelty and his successes
had rendered him an object of especial hatred,
must have at once convinced him. But he had
little time for observation, for Rupert, in his
audacious reconnoissance, had, as it seemed,
miscalculated his own distance from FrizelFs
Scotch dragoons, or overlooked the ditch which
ran obliquely from their station to within a few
yards of the elevation he had chosen, as com
manding much of the parliament's position— an
oversight which escaped not that experienced
officer. A dozen of his men, as the prince
halted, had dismounted from their horses, and
with their arquebuses ready, and their matches
lighted, stole on from bush to bush behind the
bank, unseen and unsuspected by the engrossed
and anxious leader, till within short carabine

152 CROMWELL.

distance ; then, flash after flash, their scattering
fire burst from the willow bushes and the tufts
of flags that lined the water-course; and, ere
the sharp reports had reached the ears of Ar-
denne, one of the prince's followers leaped up
in his saddle, and fell dead at his general's feet,
while the perspective glass dashed from his fin
gers, and the white plume severed by another
bullet, showed how well-aimed and narrowly-
escaped had been the volley destined for Ru
pert's person.

The charger of the fallen trooper dashed mas-
terless across the field, followed with nearly
equal speed by the surviving soldier, who halted
not, till he had reached his comrades. But he,
whose life was aimed at more peculiarly, did not
so much as look toward the enemy, whose fire
had so nigh slain him, till he had raised his fol
lower from the bloody sod and ascertained that
aid was useless. Then quietly remounting, he
shook, his clenched hand in the air at the dra-

CROMWELL. 153

goons, who had reloaded and were now in open
view preparing for a second shot, and trotted
leisurely away toward his chosen horsemen.

Scarce had this passed, ere Edgar's notice was
attracted by the raised voice of Cromwell on
whom he had been hitherto in close attendance,
but who had ridden a short space to the left, to
give some orders to the colonel of one of his
own regiments. His words were lost to Ardenne
from the distance, but by the short stern intona
tion of his accents he knew that something was
amiss, and cantered up to him at once. The
officer, whom Cromwell had addressed, was
sitting motionless before his regiment, his bridle
loose upon his charger's neck, his open hands
raised upward, his dull and heavy features
lighted up with a phrensied glare, and his voice
rolling forth sentence after sentence of uncon
nected texts, strung as it were together by a run
ning commentary of his own ill-digested ravings.

" Heard you me not? — Ho! Colonel Obadiah
Jepherson !" shouted the general close in his
H 3

154 CROMWELL.

ear, his features kindling and his voice quiver
ing with rage. " Heard you me not command
you straightway to despatch six troops to bring
up fascines, that, when we list advance, we may
have wherewithal to cross the ditch? — Heard
you not — or do you dare to disobey me?"

" Must I not then ?" replied the other in a
drawling tone ; ce as Balak said to Balaam,
' Must I not take heed to speak that which the
Lord hath put into my mouth 1' " and, turning
toward the troopers, he again went on ; t( Where
fore be ye, as those, O brethren, whom the Lord
set apart to Gideon "

But not for many words did he continue his
oration, for plunging both his spurs up to the
rowel-heads into his mighty charger, and pluck
ing forth a pistol from his holster, Oliver dashed
against him — leaving the rein at liberty, by the
mere pressure of his limbs he wheeled the horse,
as he was on the point of riding down his dis
obedient officer, and seizing with his left hand
the collar of his buff coat, with the right he

CROMWELL. 155

pressed the muzzle of his weapon to his tem
ples, with such violence that, when the pistol
was withdrawn, a livid ring remained on the in
dented and discoloured flesh.

" Now by the Lord that liveth," he hissed
between his set teeth, but in a whisper so em
phatic and distinct that all around him heard it,
" if you but wink an eyelid, much less speak, or
move, to disobey me, it were better for thee thou
hadst never been born ! Away ! and do my bid
ding, dog, or you shall die the death !"

And, as he spoke, he shook him off so sud
denly, that he had wellnigh lost his saddle, as
he turned hastily away, to set about his duty
with as much alacrity as though he did so of his
own free will.

At this moment a loud sharp roar told that
the action had commenced, and riding once more
to his station, Edgar beheld a snow-white cloud
surge slowly up toward the royal left — a bright
flash followed — another burst of dense and solid
smoke — another sharp explosion ! — and then,

156 CROMWELL.

each after each they woke the cannon of the
cavaliers, till their whole front was veiled in
wreathed smoke, drifting toward the parliament's
array, and filling all the intermediate space, as
with a palpable and massive substance ; — while
the continuous and deafening roar precluded for
a while the possibility of hearing, and almost of
thought*

Anon the answering ordnance of the puritans
belched forth its flame and smoke, and added its
din to the awful uproar. At times, when the
clouds melted for a moment under the freshen
ing breeze, Edgar and his yet more observant
leader, might catch glances of the royal pikemen
pouring in solid columns to the charge, the long
lines of their levelled weapons glittering through
the smoke — or farther to their right the masses
of their horse, wheeling like flights of sea-birds
to and fro — now all in gorgeous sunshine, and
now all in gloom.

Meanwhile the rattling of the musketry was
mingled with the deeper bellowing of cannon,

CROMWELL. 157

and among all, and over all, the thundering
accents of that most potent of all vocal instru
ments, the voice of man, pealed upward to the
heavens.

A long half-hour elapsed, and they might
hear the battle raging at every instant fiercer
toward their right, yet they remained still unen
gaged themselves, and without tidings or direc
tions how to act.

" By heaven !" cried Ardenne, as he caught
the distant glitter of the royal standards floating
among the smoke almost within the puritan
position ; " By heaven, our right must be re
pulsed!" and, as he spoke, an aide-de-camp
dashed up wounded and ghastly from the right,
and as he reined his charger up the gallant brute
fell lifeless under him.

" Fairfax is beaten back, and all our right
wing scattered," he exclaimed as he arose.

" Silence, man \" Cromwell sternly interrupted
him. " Wouldst thou dismay all these ? Say

1 58 CROMWELL.

on, but here apart, and not above your breath,
an you would live to speak it out ! — Say on !"

" Fairfax is beaten utterly, and all the right
wing broken ; you may not find two score of it
together. As he charged through yon accursed
lane, the musketry of Belial mowed his ranks,
like grass before the scythe ; and lo ! the sons
of Zerruiah — "

"Tush! tell me not of Belial and of Zer
ruiah ! or, by the life of the Eternal, I will smite
thee with my truncheon ! Speak out in plain blunt
English," again interrupted Oliver. "Fairfax
was broken, and what then \"

" His Yorkshire levies flying all disorderly,"
replied the officer, confused and panting still
from the effects of his late fall, " trampled
beneath their feet, and utterly dispersed Lord
Ferdinand's foot ; Balgony's lancers only broke
one royal regiment ; and stout Sir Thomas,
with but six troops of all our northern horse,
hath cut his passage through the cavaliers.
These are now struggling hitherward jthe rest are

CROMWELL. 159

routed past redemption. Lucas, and Porter, and
the malignant Goring, are playing havoc on the
flank of our best Scottish foot, and Newcastle,
with all his whitecoats, is winning way in front
at the pike's point — "

" What message from the general ? Quick
sir," cried Cromwell, " quick !"

"That you draw out with all despatch, and
charge Prince Rupert !"

" Why said you not so sooner ?" Oliver re
plied. " Thou, Righteous Lambert, ride to
Jepherson, bid him advance with the fascines,
and fill yon ditch ! Hutton and Barnaby, off
with you to the first and second regiments ;
we will advance and cross the drain at a brisk
trot, and — Ha ! their ordnance ceases on the
left ; Rupert will meet us straightway ! — For
ward ! — Advance ! Ardenne, be near me, thou !
Forward ! — Sound trumpets !"

And at a quick trot they advanced, but in the
deepest silence, save for the clashing of their

160 CROMWELL.

armour, and the earth-shaking clatter of their
hoofs.

"Ha!" Oliver exclaimed again, as a quick
spattering volley on their left was heard dis
tinctly, though the smoke-wreaths were too
closely packed to suffer objects to be seen above
a spear's length distant ; " there goes the mus
ketry of Frizell — and now we clear the smoke !"

And even with the words they passed the
ditch, which was filled level with the surface,
just at the moment of reaching it ; and, as they
passed it, the dense clouds from the royal can
non, which, after the discharge had ceased*
sailed sluggishly down wind, and hung above
the puritans some minutes longer than around
the cavaliers, soared slowly upward, and dis
closed the whole of that eventful field.

One glance showed Cromwell that the whole
right of their position was, indeed, broken —
scattered to the four winds of heaven — and that
their centre, though supported by the whole

CROMWELL. 161

x

reserve, could scarce maintain itself against the
desperate odds with which it was engaged ;
though by the fast and rattling volleys, and the
repeated charges of the pikemen, he judged
that all was not yet over. The second glance
showed him the prince in person, with the
whole gallant cavalry of the left wing, advancing
at full trot to charge him, with scarce five hun
dred yards between them ; while a strong mass
of pikemen, intent on turning the extreme left
of the Scottish centre, had advanced so far be
yond their horse as to expose a portion of their
own right flank.

" Ardenne I" he shouted, with a voice clear as
a trumpet, "away ! a flying charge upon the
flank of yon pike-regiment — ride over them,
wheel promptly, and fall in upon the left flank
of Prince Rupert ! Ruxton, ride thou to Frizell,
and tell him not to charge, but to deploy and
to maintain his fire — for life ! for life ! Now for
the work ! — Gallop ! — Ho ! charge ! — Down

162 CROMWELL.

with the sons of Zeruiah ! — Ha ! ha ! the sword
of the Lord, and of Gideon !"

An instant was enough ; his messengers rode
like the wind ; and with a mighty shout, that
rose above the thousand fearful sounds that
mingled to make up the thundrous voice of
battle, the ironsides plunged headlong on the
advancing cavaliers. Five thousand horse at
least on either side, splendid in all the vain
equipments that cast a false and fleeting light
of glory over the ghastly face of havoc ! On
they went— rman to man, and horse to horse —
panting for bloodshed, as for the breath of life
— drunk with excitement — thoughtless of all
except the present ! The trumpets of the
Royalists were scarcely audible among the yells
and shouts of the wild fanatics. " Ha ! Zerub-
babel ! — Down with the cursed of God ! — Ho !
Napthali— On, Benj amin ! — Strike, and spare not'!
Strike in his name — even his own name JAH !"

The phrensy of their onset — for they charged

CROMWELL. 163

like madmen, rather than cool and steady vete
rans — together with the slight confusion which
always must be felt by an assailing party, which in
the very moment of attack is suddenly assailed —
would have gone hard against the cavaliers ;
but when to this was added the continual and
well-aimed fire of Frizell's Scotch dragoons,
cutting down horse and man along their flank
by hundreds ; and when the fresh and gallant
regiment of Ardenne (which, having fallen at an
oblique tangent on the right flank of the pike-
men, and driven through them like a thunder
bolt with an unbroken front) had wheeled,
without a second's pause, above the dead and
dying as orderly as on parade, and charged full
on the naked left of Rupert's cavalry — it was
no wonder that they were cast into complete
and irretrievable disorder.

For some time all was close and deadly con
flict ; for such was the ecstatic valour of the
gentlemen who battled for the crown, and such
the rash and stubborn daring of their leader,

164 CROMWELL.

that they persisted still — rallying in squadrons,
or in troops — when their whole line was broken
and confused ; and still, when these were routed,
rushed on in desperate knots of ten or twelve
against the victors, and dealt them death on
every hand with pistol, carabine-but, and broad
sword.

Five times at least did Rupert rally his own
regiment, and bring it up to be again repulsed ;
and in the last charge, singling Ardenne out,
whose prowess he had noticed in the melee, he
drove his horse against him, and smote him
such a blow as shivered the tried rapier, which
he raised to guard it, to the hilt, and falling
thence with scarce abated violence upon his
morion, cleft it down to the hair, but deadened
by the trusty steel, inflicted no wound on the
wearer.

It was well for Edgar that at this moment a
fresh charge by Fairfax, Crawford, and Bal-
gony, who had come up from the right wing
across the rear, was made with equal skill and

CROMWELL. 165

execution ; while Cromwell drew off and re
formed his troops, bearing the prince and all
his bravest backward, pushing his squadrons,
utterly defeated, clear off the field, and chasing
them with fearful havoc to the very walls of
York.

A little interval ensued, while they called off
their stragglers, eager for vengeance, and scat
tered by the melee; but, ere ten minutes had
elapsed, the ironsides, though thinned in num
ber, and above half of them wounded, were
under their own colours, and in their regular
ranks. Ten minutes more flew by, and nothing
was yet done; they kept the ground with not
a foe before them, while on their right the
enemy's whole infantry, whose flank by the de
feat of Rupert was open to their charge, was
gradually pushing back their own foot,, step by
step at the pike's point, from their position.

Amazed at this delay, and fearing some mis
hap, Ardenne intrusted his command to his
lieutenant, and, mounting a fresh horse, gal-

166 CROMWELL.

loped away in search of Cromwell, whom he
found bleeding fast from two wounds, both
above his shoulders ; one in the neck, a graze,
as it was said, by a chance pistol-shot from his
own men ; the other a smart sword-cut on the
collar-bone. He was evidently faint, and failing
from the loss of blood.

"A surgeon— ho!" cried Edgar; "bear him
away to the rear !"

"Not for the world !" cried Oliver, in a low
voice but stern. " Shall I go, while the Lord
has need of me? Form to the right, brave
hearts, and follow me ! The sword of the Lord
and of Gideon !"

And, making a last effort to lead them to the
charge, he tottered in his stirrups, and would
have fallen, had not two subalterns supported
him and borne him to the rear.

"What now, lieutenant-colonel?" exclaimed
Jepherson from the head of the next regimenb
as Cromwell was conveyed away.

"Heard you not then the general's order?"

CROMWELL. 167

answered Ardenne. " Each regiment form open
column to the right by troops, and charge all
on the flank of yon dense mass of musketeers
and pikemen ! Thou, Jepherson, wheel round
upon the rear of yon brigade of whitecoats.
Thou, Desborough, cut thy way through yonder
pikemen. Sound trumpets ! forward all !"

And on they went, with nothing to oppose or
stand before them. Regiment after regiment,
taken in flank or rear, were cut down, trampled
under foot, slashed out of the very shape and
semblance of humanity.

But now they reached the whitecoats, New
castle's own brigade of musketeers and pike-
men mingled, four thousand strong, picked
men, flushed with success, and valiant. Well
was it then that Ardenne had wheeled Jepher-
son upon their rear; for, as he came upon their
flank, while they were fighting hard in front
with the Scotch infantry, they formed a second
face with admirable skill, and opened on him
such a fire from their second and rear ranks, as

168 CROMWELL.

emptied wellnigh half his saddles ; while their
pike's presented an impenetrable rampart against
his gallant horses.

With difficulty he rallied his own regiment,
and brought it up again to the charge, and at
the selfsame instant Jepherson burst upon
their rear. Assailed upon three sides at once,
they broke ; but fought it out even then, stand
ing in small groups back to back, refusing quar
ter to the last, and lying in their lines when
dead as they had fought while living ! Oh ]
noble victims, thanklessly sacrificed in the up
holding of a tyrant against their country's
freedom ! slain innocently in an evil cause '
Alas ! alas ! for their free English blood poured
out like water on their native soil, not to de
fend, but to destroy its liberties !

With the destruction of the whitecoats the
battle, in truth, ended ; for though a green_
coated brigade still offered stout resistance, it
was but a last effort of despair. The parlia
ment's whole centre, now relieved from their

CROMWELL. 169

assailants, moved steadily and promptly up,
pursuing the advantage gained by the gallant
ironsides ; and, pressing on the scattered parties
of the Royalists with such relentless zeal, that
they could never rally till they reached the walls
of York — whole squadrons pushed into the Ouse
were drowned in its deep waters, or pitilessly
slaughtered on its banks.

The cavalry, with Ardenne at their head,
meanwhile still drove right onward ; and, won
derful to tell, traversed the whole position of
the enemy, from end to end, in perfect and
unbroken order, sweeping the relics of that
disastrous fight before them, as the surf drives
the wreck, which its own violence has made,
before its foamy waters. These having reached
the furthest royal left, they wheeled once more
to the right, and actually occupied the very
ground which Lucas with his cavaliers had held
at the beginning of the action.

The only enemy now left upon the field con
sisted of these same victors, who, having con-

VOL, II. I

170 CROMWELL.

quered Fairfax and his tumultuary levies, had
pressed with much success upon the flank of
Manchester's and Lindsey's regiments of foot ;
till those stout squadrons, when relieved by
Edgar's overwhelming charge upon their enemies
in front, found leisure to concentrate all their
efforts against the cavalry which had so nigh
defeated them ; and were in turn repulsing them,
when, on the very spot where they had first so
roughly handled Fairfax and his northern horse,
Ardenne fell on them unawares, and well avenged
his comrades.

In this last conflict the ground was broken
with steep banks and scattered bushes, and
the deep channel of the drain alluded to above.
There, as before, the fight was obstinate, and
hand to hand, among the troopers; when just
as Edgar's men drove Lucas back, killing his
horse, and making himself prisoner, while all
was smoke and tumult and confusion, a small
but well-appointed troop of cavaliers wheeled
round some alder-bushes and charged home.

CROMWELL. 171

These for a moment threw Edgar's force into
disorder, but unsupported and too weak in
numbers, they fell fast, and at the last drew
off — their leader fighting desperately to cover
their retreat, till a shot struck his charger, and,
as he rolled upon the gory and hoof-dinted sod,
a savage fanatic shortened his sword to stab the
prostrate rider.

Edgar's eye caught a glimpse of the gray
hairs, and noble features that were now dis
closed, bloodstained and ghastly, by the falling
of his battered morion. With a fierce cry, he
bounded from his horse — he was — he was in
time ! — He struck one rapier up, received
another, which he could not parry, in his own
sword arm — but he had saved his father !

It was not he alone, however, who had per
ceived Sir Henry's peril : — a desperate rally of
his followers was made to rescue him. The
tide of fight had rolled away after the flying-
cavaliers of Lucas; and in an instant, ere he
could strike a blow, or shout his war-cry,
i 2

172 CROMWELL.

Ardenne, second to Cromwell only as the winner
of that bloody day, was made a captive, and
borne off at a gallop by the flyers from that
very field, on which his conduct and his valour
had retrieved the fortunes of his party, when on
the very verge of absolute annihilation.

CROMWELL. 173

CHAPTER VI.

Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son,

It should be thus with him — he must die to-morrow.

Measure for Measure.

The outmost crowd have heard a sound,
Like horse's hoof on harden'd ground.
Nearer it came and yet more near,
The very headsmen paused to hear.

SCOTT'S Roheby.

IT was already past the middle of the night
which followed the tremendous conflict upon
Marston Moor, yet many a light was glancing
through the casements of the adjoining village,

174 CROMWELL.

in which the cavalry of the victorious army had
taken up its quarters. Strange and discordant
noises echoed among the low-browed cottages —
the stamp and scream of vicious chargers, the
clash of arms, the din of the artillery waggons
groaning and creaking over the ill-made roads,
the moans and outcries of the wounded wretches,
waked to fresh agonies by the rough motion of
the carts, which bore them from the field, wa
tering the dust beneath their wheels with hu
man gore — and yet, though every house and
shed was occupied by the rude soldiery, there
mingled not one tone of riot or debauchery with
the accustomed sounds that indicate the pre
sence of an armed multitude. All grave and
stern the sentinels stalked their appointed
rounds, or if they broke the silence of their
watch it was but by the humming of some
pious canticle ; while ever and anon the louder
accents of some military preacher rose upon the
ear, or the deep chorus of a distant hymn. No
wassailings prevailed about the watchfires, no

CROMWELL. 175

songs of profane triumph were bellowed from
the hostelries wherein the men were billeted, no
yells of savage laughter, nor female shrieks
broke forth to tell of warlike licence ; in short
the aspect of the hamlet was rather that of some
immense conventicle of armed enthusiasts., than
of the nightly quarter of a triumphant host fresh
from the shock, the rapture, and the glory of the
battle.

Before one dwelling of pretensions somewhat
greater than its neighbours, having a little court
yard with a low stone-wall before it, and a
grotesquely-sculptured porch of native sand
stone, there sat two mounted privates of the
ironsides, one on each side the gate, so still and
motionless that, but for the occasional tossing
of their chargers' heads, or whisk of their long
tails, they might have passed for lifeless statues.
The pale beams of the moon slept placidly upon
their morions and breastplates, while the bright
scarlet of their doublets was mellowed by the
partial light into a dimmer and more sober hue.

176 CROMWELL.

Within the court two more of the same sturdy
corps walked to and fro with ported carbines,
crossing each other at brief intervals, the red
sparks of their lighted matches showing their
readiness for instant service. Within the house
all were at rest save in one chamber, opening
directly from the narrow hall or passage,
whence might be heard, even without the walls,
a heavy and irregular footstep clanging with
military spurs upon the flagstones which com
posed the cottage floor, and now and then the
suppressed murmur of a voice communing as it
seemed with the deep thoughts of the speaker.

It was a large low-roofed and stone-paved
room, with heavy rafters and a huge open
chimney of black oak, dingy and mantled with
the smoke of ages. A wide low window, divided
into many lattices by massive freestone mul-
lions, with a long settle of carved wainscoting
beneath it, occupied the whole of one side,
while opposite to it, and at right angles to
the hearth, another seat of similar materials but

CROMWELL. 177

superior workmanship, with a high panelled
back and elbows, was disposed so as to shield
the occupants from the keen blasts that found
their way in winter through many a crevice of
the time-shaken walls. Over this antique piece
of furniture a scarlet dragoon-cloak was flung
at random, with a broad-brimmed and high-
crowned hat of dark gray felt, hooked on one
of the knobs which decorated its extremities,
while from the other hung a buff belt with a
long iron-hilted tuck.

Upon a table close before the hearth, on
which a dozen fast- decaying brands silently
smouldered, stood with its wick tall and un-
snuffed a solitary lamp, casting a feeble and
uncertain light about the room, which served
however to display a brace of horseman's heavy
pistols, an open map, a telescope, a worn and
greasy bible, and a leader's truncheon lying
beside it on the board, as well as a confused
assemblage of steel armour piled in a large
i 3

178 CROMWELL.

armed chair and glancing with obscure reflec
tions from the shadow of a distant corner.

It was, however, the inmate of the chamber
that lent its chief attraction to the scene — a
strong-built and stern-featured man, clad in a
military suit of buff, such as was then worn
under the corslet and thigh-pieces of the
cavalry; his cumbersome jack-boots were still
about his legs, garnished with spurs as when
he left the saddle, though all his other armour
had been doffed in consequence of recent
wounds, as it would seem from many a speck
and splash of dingy crimson on the leathern
cassock, and from his left arm bound up by a
silken sling.

It was the leader of the ironsides. — There was
a strange — almost a wild expression on his grim
features as he passed and repassed the light,
and a glare in his deepset eye, almost like that
of the insane. He muttered at times in audible
and articulate sounds, but mostly in a half-

CROMWELL. 179

uttered inward key, striding the while with
heavy but uneven steps, now fast, now slow,
across the echoing floor, his hands were now
crossed firmly on his breast, now tossed aloft
as if they brandished the war-weapon, and now
they griped each other with so stern a pressure
that it almost seemed as if the blood would
start from beneath his nails. It might be that
the fever of his wounds had terminated for the
moment to his brain, it might be that a darker

y o

fit than common of his fanatic hypochondriasm
had occupied his mind, but on this night the
wise and crafty conqueror of Rupert resembled
rather the mysterious energumenos, the pos
sessed, fiend-tortured, maniac of holy writ, than
the cool, self-controlling, scientific leader he
had that day approved himself.

" King? — King?" at last he exclaimed au
dibly, pausing from his uneasy walk, with an
expression of uncertainty and even terror dis
tinctly marked in every feature. " Didst thou
say King? — No! no! not King! — Avaunt,
Beelzebub ! — Get thee behind me, Sathanas ! —

180 CROMWELL.

It said not, ( KingP that solemn and tremendous
shape, that drew the curtains of my boyish
couch at the unhallowed hour of midnight —
' The greatest one in England, but not King !*
— Ho ! have I foiled thee there ? — Ha ha ! —
well art thou called the prince of liars — get thee
behind me ! tempt me no more ! —away foul
slave ! By the Lord's help I spit at and defy
thee I"

He took two or three turns across the room
more quickly than before, and again pausing
cried, " A trick of fantasy ? — who saith it was
unreal — have we not ears to hear, and eyes to
see; and shall we not believe what we do hear
and see ? — Did not a spirit pass before the face
of Job, that the hair of his flesh stood up?
— Stood it not still, yet he could not dis
cern the form thereof? — Was there not silence.

* It is notorious that a story was in existence among the
contemporaries of Cromwell, long before his attainment even
of high military rank, to the effect that he had been awakened
from his sleep, when a boy, by a mysterious shape, which told
him he should be the greatest man in England, not however
using the word king.

CROMWELL. 181

and he heard a voice ? — And came it not to pass
so likewise unto me, and much more also? —
Again : Did not the evil-minded Saul call up,
through her at Endor, the living spirit of the
departed prophet, that it did prophecy to him ? —
And yet again : Did not the Roman Brutus,
idolater although he was and heathen, hold
converse with the shadow of his kingly victim,
that was his evil genius at Philippi ? — And may
not I — I, that was written down before the world
began— I, that have been predestinate of old to
execute the wrath of the Most Highest, and
press the wine-press of his vengeance — may not
I too commune with disembodied ministers that
walk in the night season ? Go to ! go to ! I heard its
mighty accents as I started from my slumber,
and they yet tingle in my fleshly ears — ' Arouse
thee, tliou that shalt be first in England P —
But not — it said not — King !"

Again he took a short and hurried turn
through the apartments — " And if it had/' he
cried in higher tones, — " and if it had said King?

182 CROMWELL.

— Be there not lying spirits — be there not
tempters— be there not false prophets? — Had it
said King, then had I roused myself indeed !
Then had I striven with the evil one, that he
had fled me ! for to the putting down, not to the
raising up of tyrants was I called — not that to
me men should bow down the knee, and wallow
in the dust, and cry. Hail King ! but that through
out this goodly realm of England there should
be innocence, and righteousness, and peace, and
liberty, and truth for ever !"

He paused again in his soliloquy, and as he
paused the challenge of a distant sentinel rang
sharp and clear through the still night — the
clatter of a horse's hoofs — another challenge,
and another — a bustle in the courtyard and the
sound of several feet hurrying toward the door !

With the first faint alarm the general was
himself again; he passed his hand across his
eyes and drew a deep sigh as if to ease his breast
— then, turning to the table hastily, he trimmed
the waning lamp, and seating himself, instantly

CROMWELL. 183

resumed the studies whence he had probably
been hurried by the ferment of his distempered
spirits.

The outer door was opened, and several per
sons, after a moment's parley with the sentinel
on duty, entered the house — a heavy hand rapped
quickly on the door, followed by a blunt voice —
" The captain of the watch to speak with General
Cromwell."

" Enter, the captain of the watch," cried
Oliver, and, as the well-known face of an ap
proved and trusty comrade met his eye — <* What
now, good Kingsland !" he exclaimed. "How
goes it with the host?"

" All thanks be to the Giver of all mercies
— well!" replied the officer; " but here is one
without — yea even one from the strong hold of
the malignants — seeking to parley with you."

" One from the town of York — Ha?" answered
Cromwell with the speed of thought. " Admit
him instantly."

" Nay ! not from York," returned the other ;

184 CROMWELL.

t( nor is it any he. Of a verity it is a damsel, yea !
and a damsel decked with the comeliness — truly
I say with the loveliness of the flesh !"

"Tush! tell not me of comeliness!" cried
Oliver very sharply. "Of God's truth, Ahaziah
Kingsland, thou art a fool, thus to disturb my
meditations for a most frail and painted potsherd
— a Dalilah, I warrant me — a Rechab, yea, and
a painted Jezabel — a harlot from the camp of
the Egyptians — cast her forth straightway ! —
leave me, I say — begone I"

u It is not so !" replied the other sturdily —
" It is not so, an you will hear me out ! — It is a
maiden of repute — she rode up to our outpost
on the western road with three stout serving-
men, seeking the captain of the night, and
verily when I was brought to her she claimed
to speak with General Cromwell, touching the
young man Edgar Ardenne — "

"Admit her, and that too without tarrying.
And bid them fetch in fuel — for lo ! the fire
hath burnt low while I did watch and pray, and

CROMWELL. 185

the night air is chill, though it be summer —
and lights and wine, I say, and creature com
forts, such as may fit the tender and the delicate
of women!"

The words were yet upon the lips of Cromwell
when a tall female figure, marked by that in
describable yet not to be mistaken air of grace
which is seen rarely but in persons conscious of
the possession of high station and pre-eminent
endowments, was ushered into the dim-lighted
chamber. The coarse dark-coloured riding-
cloak, wrapped closely round her form, could
not entirely conceal the elegant proportions,
which it was evidently intended to disguise;
and still less could the wide-leafed hat of
country straw, tied closely down upon the
cheeks by a silk kerchief, mask the aristocratic
mould of the fair features, or hide the rich
luxuriance of the light-brown hair, which hung
uncurled and damp with the night-dews far
down upon her shoulders.

A slight bustle occurred, while the general

186 CROMWELL.

with his attendant officers, tendered her in
dumb show the courtesies demanded by her
apparent rank and yet more by her isolated and
defenceless situation ; but with an air of quiet
dignity she waved off their attentions, and ex
pressed more by her manner than her words a
wish to be left alone with the far-dreaded leader
of the independents.

Meanwhile more logs had been heaped on
the hearth, and now threw up a flickering and
lively glow which, added to the lustre of some
three or four fresh lights, diffused itself into the
furthest angles of the room. The serving-men
and his subordinates withdrew, Oliver sternly
ordering them to hold themselves aloof, and
pray to be delivered from the sin of eaves
dropping.

Then without any affectation, or display of
fear or of embarrassment, the lady dropped her
mantle, and stood forth revealed in all the bright
and beautiful proportions of Sibyl Ardenne.
Her face was pale as death, yet it was firm,

CROMWELL. 187

and perfectly composed — there was no flutter of
her pulse, no tremour of her frame, no doubt or
hesitation in the clear cold glance of her expres
sive eye — all was calm, self-confiding, resolute,
and fearless.

" I have come hither," she said, without
waiting to be first addressed, in a voice slow
and passionless, yet exquisitely musical, — " I
have come hither, General Cromwell, in a
fashion men will deem unmaidenly, and women
bold unto effrontery. I have come hither under
the shade of night, alone save with the com
pany of menials, unto the foeman of my family
— my King — my country ! yet dare not even in
your most inward soul to deem me light or frail.
I have come, I say, hither, casting aside all
prejudice, all fear, and all reserve — defying the
opinion of the world — incurring the contempt,
the hatred, and perhaps the curse, of those I
I hold most dear. Yet have I come, upheld by
mine own conscience, and firm in the resolve to
hinder a foul crime. — All other means have

188 CROMWELL.

failed — tears, arguments, entreaties ! All ! — all,
I say, save this. Get you instantly,55 she went
on, rising as she spoke into strong energy — " to
horse ! — to horse ! to horse ! if you would save
your friend, your fellow-soldier, your preserver
— alas that he was such ! — if you would save
Edgar Ardenne ! — He is a captive of the cava-
valiers, sentenced to die at daybreak/5

" To die — " vehemently interrupted Cromwell
— " To die ! — they dare not — no, for their souls,
they dare not ! — Did they but harm one hair of
him, I would hang fifty of their best and
noblest, higher than ever Haman swung in the
free airs of heaven !"

" Sentenced — " she continued quietly and
without heeding the interruption — " to die to
morrow ! — Yet he may still be rescued if you
will it so. Prisoner to a small body of the
retreating cavaliers, he will be shot at day
break, if not released this night — nor can he be
released save by your strict obedience to my
bidding ! — Obey me, and to-night you rescue

CROMWELL. 189

him, who would have died to save you ! Despise
my warning, and to-morrow you may perchance
— avenge him P'

With a fixed scrutinizing glance the general
gazed upon her features while she spoke, as
though he would peruse her soul.

" And who — " he said at length, " and who
are you, that speak thus resolutely, act thus
boldly in behalf of him who is the foeman of
your tribe — even the stout and valiant Ar-
denne 1"

ee It matters not," she answered steadily, —
" it matters not who I may be, or what. — Tt
matters only that you subscribe to my condi
tions, and get you straight to horse."

" Thus far it matters only, ' answered
Cromwell — " that an I know you not, yea ! and
moreover know your motives likewise, I stir not
— horse nor man! There be enow of dames
and demoiselles among you who would deem
falsehood very righteous truth, if so ye might
entrap unto destruction one who — although

190 CROMWELL.

himself he saith it — hath been and will be a
keen instrument — yea ! a two-edged sword, to
work destruction on the sons of Belial!"

" Not so ! not so \" she broke upon his
speech with striking energy. " Not so — by all
my hopes of heaven ! — Such may be thy creed,
to do ill that good may come of it. But I — I
would not stoop to falsehood, were it to buy
the lives of thousands such as thou art! — my
aim — my only aim — is to preserve the young
from a most cruel and heart-rending doom — to
save the aged from a most deadly crime. I am
— know it, and use the knowledge as you list —
— I am the niece of your friend's sire."

<e Ha ! Mistress Sibyl Ardenne — is it so?"
muttered the general musingly. " The bro
ther's daughter of that perverse and bloody-
minded old malignant, whose right hand is
crimson — crimson with the persecution of the
saints ! Verily this is a sure and trusty wit
ness ! — And so you would preserve the youth —
A valiant youth he is, and I do say it — stout of

CROMWELL. 191

heart, strong of hand, tender of conscience —
yea ! a burning and a shining light to men —
and so thou wouldst preserve him — and wouldst
wed with him — ha! is it not so? — and win him
to the faction of the man Charles Stuart ! — pre
serve his life, so to destroy his soul ! Is it not
so? — Ha ! have I read your heart?"

" You have not !" she answered, with calm
dignity. "You have not read it; nor can you
so much as conjecture or imagine the motives or
the thoughts of such as I, more than you can
comprehend the sacred truths which you mis
quote, perverting them to your own ruin. Know,
General Cromwell, that not to be the empress
of the universe — not to restore my sovereign to
his lawful throne — my country to its ancient
peace — would I espouse the man who, whether
from misapprehended duty or from wilful crime,
could band. himself with persons like to thee —
lending himself a willing tool to be played off
by rebels to their monarch — traitors to their
country — and — alas ! that I should live to say

192 CROMWELL.

it — vile hypocrites before their God ! It is for
this — for this that I would have him live, that
he may not lack season for repentance ; and
that his miserable father may be spared the sin
of slaying his own son !"

" His father !" shouted Cromwell, excited
now beyond all self-restraint. " His father ! In
God's name, speak out, maiden! His father!
Merciful Lord ! What meanest thou ?"

" He is a captive to Sir Henry Ardenne," she
replied ; " made captive in the very action of
defending him, and doomed by him to perish,
as a rebel and a traitor, with the first break of
dawn!"

" Where lie these cavaliers ? what be their
numbers? Speak !"

" Promise me, then," she said, with infinite
composure ; " promise me as you are a gentle
man, a soldier, and a Christian, that, save to
rescue Edgar Ardenne, you will not turn the
tidings I shall give you to your own gain, or to
King Charleses detriment ! Promise before the

CROMWELL. 193

Lord, and by your hopes of an hereafter, that
you will shed no drop of blood which is not
absolutely needful to his safety; arid more, that
he once safe, you will strike no blow further,
but return straightway to this spot, molesting
no man, nor taking any note of their position
or proceedings against whom I shall lead you,
for twelve hours' space !"

"Tush! tush! it may not be. Say quickly
where they lie, and what their numbers, so shall
we save your lover ; but dally not, I pray you,
lest we may be too late to save !"

ee Promise I" she answered, steadily.

" Dally not, maiden ! I say dally not !"
Cromwell repeated very sternly ; " else shall
the blood of him thou lovest, and not that only,
but the guilt of the insane old homicide rest on
your head, who might have saved them, but
wouldst not !"

" Promise, or not a word from me ! Promise,
or I go hence, and Heaven befriend whom thou
desertest to destruction \"

VOL. II. K

194 CROMWELL.

" It may not be, I say — it may not be !" he
cried, gnashing his teeth, and stamping vio
lently on the floor, in a fierce paroxysm of un
bridled rage. " Speak quickly, girl, and truly ;
or instantly I cast thee into bonds ! Without
there, ho ! a guard and fetters !"

" Promise, or you may tear me limb from
limb — ay, draw me with wild horses, yet shalt
thou nothing learn ! Promise, and I tell all \"

The guard rushed in — grim, gloomy-looking
fanatics, to whom their leader's merest nod was
law— yet she was silent as the grave ; and the
dark zealot paused in deep perplexity. His
brow was stormy as a winter's midnight ; his eye
cold, hard, and pitiless ; his teeth compressed
so firmly, that his very lips were white as ashes;
and his hands clenched, yet quivering with emo
tion. While he yet doubted, a slow solemn
sound came floating down the night-wind to his
excited ears. It was the village clock striking
the second hour past midnight.

"Three hours more/' she said, in a low

CROMWELL. 195

mournful voice, " and nothing will remain of
him you call your friend, except a little blood
stained clay, which you may, or may not,
avenge !"

The muscles of the general's mouth worked
violently, his clenched hand gradually opened,
the expression of his eye grew softer.

" Noble heart !" he muttered. " Well hath
the prophet spoken ' a virtuous woman is be
yond the price of rubies !' '

Then, raising his voice, he said distinctly and
aloud — " Before the Lord, my Judge and my
Redeemer, and by my hopes of grace, I promise
thee " It shall be done as thou wouldst have
it. How many, and where lie they 1"

" Three hundred horse — in the small town of
Wetherby-on-Whar fe ."

(s Sound trumpets — boot and saddle ! Mine
own first ironsides to horse ; let them all carry
petronels. Despatch ! despatch ! Saddle me
Thunder for the field — I will myself to horse !
Find me three trusty guides that know each
K 2

196 CROMWELL.

yard of country for ten miles around ! For
life ! for life ! no tarrying I"

Forth rushed the subalterns — the trumpets
flourished, piercingly shrill and stirring — then
came the clash of arms, the trampling of quick
feet, the glare of torches, the din of confused
voices, the pawing and the snort of chargers,
and all the thrilling sounds and sights of an
alarum at the dead of night.

" One more word, maiden," he exclaimed,
while fastening the rivets of his corslet with an
impatient hand. " Where hold they him in
ward ?"

"In the court-house," she answered, "hard
by the market-place, and nigh the river-bank ;
and now forget you have beheld me — forget it,
and farewell !"

" Nay, nay," he said, " not so. You go not
hence, save with our escort. Too much risk
have you run to-night already. "

" No," she replied. " I must be home before
you. I lodge not in the town, and I may well

CROMWELL. 197

be missed. I must be home before 'you, else
will all fail."

" Nay, thou art right in all things," Crom
well answered ; " and as thou wiliest it shall be.
Kingsland, conduct the maiden in all honour to
her own attendants. Lady," he added, taking
her by the hand with a benevolent expression
lighting his gloomy features, " lady, thou art a
goodly and a glorious creature ; and this night
hast thou done a deed worthy the noblest of
earth's daughters. A soldier's blessing, although
he be not of thy faith, nor of thy faction, can
not disgrace or harm thee. The God of Israel

O

bless thee then, and guide thy feet aright, and
give thee peace and happiness and understand
ing. Farewell, and doubt not that I will deal
with thee righteously ; for if I fail thee, to
transgress my promise, may He whom I profess
to serve — with frailty, it is true, and fainting,
yet with sincere heart-zeal — do unto me so like
wise at mine utmost need, and much more also \"
He let fall her hand as suddenly as he had

198 CROMWELL.

taken it, and, as if half ashamed of the emotion
he had shown, abruptly turned away, and scan
ned the map which lay upon the table with in
tense scrutiny ; while Sibyl, wondering at the
singular emotion and unexpected conduct of the
hated independent, silently left the house to
hurry homeward, with an easier heart than she
had carried to the quarters of the puritans.

Before a half-hour had elapsed, five hundred
chosen horsemen were under arms and in the
saddle — the very flower of Cromwell's finest
cavalry — and he himself, despite his wounds,
his arm yet hanging in a sling, mounted, and
at their head.

After a short and hurried conversation with
the guides, he gave the word to march, and led
them at a rapid trot along the moonlight roads,
none knowing, save himself, the object or direc
tion of their route. When they had ridden
some six miles, he halted suddenly.

" Is there not hereabout/5 he said, looking
toward the guide, who rode beside his rein, " a

CROMWELL. 199

path whereby to reach the Wharfe, and ford it
here, some mile or so below the town ?"

" A half-mile further/' answered the country
man, " a lane turns off to the left, down to the
Flint-mill ford, two miles below the bridge.

" Ho ! Captain Goodenough," cried Oliver,
" take thou this fellow to the rear, and, as we
pass the lane, turn down it with the last troop —
tarry not on thy way, but cross the river, and
keep the right bank up, until thou be within
two gunshots of the bridge ; there halt till that
thou hear my trumpets, and then charge ! Over
the bridge — into the town — and strike straight
for the market-place ! If that ye be discovered,
ere ye hear me, delay not, but dash straightway
in. If that your guide deceive you, shoot him
upon the instant. Be cautious, and be quick —
away !"

On they went, quickening still their pace,
and, as they passed the lane, the troop ap
pointed to the duty wheeled off, steadily, but

200

CROMWELL.

without slackening its pace, and hurried on its
route.

Another mile was passed, and once again the
general halted. "Kingsland and Pearson," he
cried, " move to the front ; I would hold coun
sel with ye; and bring the other guides." Then
as his officers arrived — " There be/5 he said,
tf two other roads, beside this which we follow,
that enter Wetherby this side the river — the
great north road from Boroughbridge, and one
from Knaresborough, yet further to the we&t.
Goodenough holds the bridge, and I will keep
this route ; you two must ride across the country,
till that ye reach these roads. Feel your way
down them, each one as nearly as he may unto
their outposts, and when ye hear my trumpets
charge, as I said before, and cut your way
straight for the market-place. Kill no more
than ye must, and make no prisoners. Keep
your men well together, and be steady. Send
back your guides to me, each with an orderly

CROMWELL. 201

when ye have reached the roads. Ye have but
a scant hour to do it, but that is time enow, an
ye employ it diligently. By then the moon will
set, and we shall have it dark and misty. Be
wary, and success is certain. God speed ye,
gentlemen — away !"

Off they rode across the open fields which
stretched, at that time without fences or enclo
sures, except a few small drains, for many miles
over that fertile district.

An hour passed slowly over, and the moon
sunk, as Cromwell had predicted, into a heavy
bed of clouds, yet he moved not. His men
were drawn up, all dismounted, but each trooper
by his horse, in a small piece of marshy wood
land, open to the road, where they could not
have been discovered by a chance passenger.

The morning grew not lighter yet, for a small
drizzling rain began to fall, with a dense fog,
rendering objects scarcely visible at ten feet
distant. Another half-hour passed, and yet no
tidings.

K 3

202 CROMWELL.

" Mount, ho ! and blow your matches," ex
claimed Cromwell, breaking the silence which
had so long remained uninterrupted by any
human sound or whisper. "We must fall on,
else shall we too late — trusting to fortune and
the favour of the Lord that our friends be at
their posts. Wheel to the left. Ho ! forward,
trot !"

He put his horse at once into his swiftest
pace ; but, just as he moved his men, the clang
of hoofs came rattling up the stony road — it
was the guide from Pearson with an orderly.

" All's well \" he cried ; " stout Capt. Pear
son hath gained the further road, Kingsland
must needs be at his post, and lo ! here comes
his messenger I"

" Forward ! Forward !" shouted Cromwell,
" for lo ! there breaks the morning. Forward !
and when the outposts challenge us, sound
trumpets and shout cheerily \"

On they went, clattering at a furious pace
along the broken roads, and now they almost

CROMWELL. 203

reached the town, the lights of which they
might see feebly twinkling through the mist-
wreaths. An awful sound broke on their ears,
heard fearfully distinct above the din of hoofs
and clash of spur and scabbard — it was the first
note of the death-bell !

" Gallop ! Ho ! Gallop \» Cromwell shrieked
out in piercing tones that thrilled to every heart,
plunging his spurs up to the rowel-heads into his
charger's side — but his command reached other
ears than those of his stout followers,

"Stand, or I shoot!" challenged a drowsy
sentinel^ whom they had wellnigh passed unno
ticed despite the clatter of their march ; and at
the selfsame point of time his musket was
discharged ; but its report was drowned by the
heart-thrilling flourish of the trumpets, and the
repeated war-cry of the charging zealots.

On every side the trumpets of the general
were answered by the simultaneous shouts of
the three bands he had detached, by the quick

204 CROMWELL.

clatter of their horses' hoofs, and the sharp
ringing volleys of their carbines. On every side
the outposts were cut down, and the town
entered sword in hand. The death-bell ceased
to toll — the ringers had deserted it in terror ! —
The bugles pealed, and the drums beat to arms,
but it was all too late. The few who were on
foot, were instantly cut down; — others came
rushing from their quarters half-attired, with
lighted torches and unbelted brands, only to
gaze in mute and unresisting terror on the com
plete success of the assailants! — only to see four
gallant troops of horse wheeling in opposite
directions and in resistless numbers into the
market-place ! — to hear the clang of axe and
hammer upon the prison-gates, mixed with the
deafening huzzas of the triumphant puritans! —
to mark, by the red glare of many a flambeau
suddenly kindled by the troopers, their captive
borne in triumph from the cell — which he had
never dreamed of quitting, but for the place of

CROMWELL. 205

execution — mounted upon a ready charger, and
girt round by a ring of swords, that set the very
hope of rescue at defiance !

One short note of the bugle, and every torch
expired as suddenly as it had been illumed ! —
Another — and the strangers fell into column with
the speed of thought, and filing off at a hard
trot were out of sight so rapidly, that but for the
dismantled gates, the empty dungeon, the decay
ing brands that smouldered on the ground, and
the few scattered bodies outstretched upon the
miry pavements never to rise again, all that had
passed might have been almost deemed a wild
and baseless dream.

206 CROMWELL.

CHAPTER VII.

Perseverance, dear my lord,
Keeps honour bright — to have done is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail
In monumental mockery.

Troilus and Cressida.

THE terrible campaign of '44 had ended,
not indeed with that total overthrow of Charles,
and absolute dispersion of his party, which
might well have been looked for after the com
plete rout of the finest army he had ever been
enabled to collect upon Long Mars ton Moor,
and which would probably have followed, had

CROMWELL. 207

all the generals of the commonwealth been equals
in spirit, energy, and firm devotion to their
cause, of the true victors on that bloody day —
Fairfax and Cromwell. But, in truth, during
the years which had elapsed since the uplifting
of the royal standard, the aspect of affairs in
England had been changed greatly for the
worse, and men's opinions had undergone, if
possible, a greater alteration.

Each party, as is the natural consequence of
opposition, whether in argument or armed strife,
had but become more desperately wedded to its
own principles or prejudices. The King, though
he had gained no single step toward a general
result of conquest or pacification, was more re
solved than ever to come to no terms, save such
as he could never reasonably even hope to gain
with his rebellious subjects.

The people, meanwhile, were becoming weary
of the war, and all the miseries that follow in
its train, and seeing that there was no hope that
Charles would ever listen either to prudence or

208 CROMWELL.

to reason, until reduced to infinite extremities,
were daily — hourly — increasing in their ani
mosity to him, and in their readiness to urge on
and promote, by every method in their power,
the interest of his enemies.

The nobles, on the other hand, those even
who had been the first and the most zealous to
proclaim themselves adherents to the parliament
and constitution — the first to buckle on the arms
of legalized and just rebellion — perceiving now,
that through the self-destructive obstinacy of
the King, the civil strife could have no end,
save in the downfal of the monarchy, and con
sequent suppression of all aristocratic privilege,
relaxed in their endeavours — fought, if they
fought at all, with feeble and uncertain spirit,
as doubtful whether conquest or defeat to them
would prove the greater evil — and would, had
they possessed the absolute control, have suf
fered the war to go out, as it were, for very lack
of aliment.

Among the royalists immediately upon the

CROMWELL. 209

issue of that bloody field, the gallant Newcastle,
Justly incensed at Rupert's furious and unman-
nered rashness, by which indeed the whole north
had been set at stake and lost in one pitched
battle, had thrown aside his arms, and crossed
the seas to gratify, if it might be, in happier
realms, his taste for those accomplishments and
arts of peace which were far more congenial to
his improved and courtly intellect, than the rude
din of camps and foughten fields.

The prince, without so much as an attempt
to rally his dispersed and shattered forces, fled
with all speed toward Chester, while York,
relieved in vain, surrendered in a few days to
the conquerors of Marston.

Better success, however, than could have been
expected, fell to the cavaliers in other portions
of the realm. Charles, who, a few days pre
vious to the defeat of his rash nephew, had
worsted Waller at Cropredy bridge, now follow
ing up his slight advantage by a vigorous and
able movement into Cornwall, pressed upon

210 CROMWELL.

Essex with such skill and perseverance, that
the general of the parliament was forced to
make a precipitate escape by sea. Hopeless
of bringing off his army, he went on board
with a few officers, having first sent away his
horse, under command of Balfour, to cut their
way, as best they might, to London ; which
(owing to the shameful revelry of Goring, who
suffered them, although forewarned even of the
hour when the sortie would be made), he most
successfully accomplished ; and leaving all his
infantry, artillery, and baggage under Skippon,
to take the best terms of surrender they might
gain from the King's policy or mercy.

A second desperate drawn battle followed
before Newbury, wherein, as they had done in
every action, Cromwell's undaunted squadrons
carried all before them in that part of the field
where they engaged, although at other points
the headlong valour of the cavaliers retrieved
the day, and gained the doubtful credit of a
balanced fight, owing, as it was said, to Man-

CROMWELL. 211

Chester's uncertain, if not dishonest, policy in
absolutely prohibiting the leader of the iron
sides from making one more charge on the re
tiring cavaliers ; when, as that officer asserted,
a complete victory must have undoubtedly been
won by such a movement.

After this fruitless straggle, relieving the be
leaguered posts of Donnington and Basing-
house, the King once more took up his quar
ters for the winter in the loyal town of Oxford,
with better hopes than he had entertained since
the complete subversion of his party in the
north; on news of which his Queen had in
stantly escaped to France, and he himself had
deemed it wise to send the Prince of Wales to
Bristol with a separate council and an inde-
pendant army, judging it hazardous to hold so
great a stake as their united safety embarked
upon a single venture.

Toward the dead of winter, the armies being
both laid up, the puritanic leaders returned to
Westminster to take once more their part in the

212 CROMWELL.

proceedings of the Houses, since they had no
more opportunity of active service in the field.

Matters in parliament looked wildly — parties
ran higher now than they had done at any time
even before the royalists seceded from the coun
cils of the nation — the Presbyterians and the
Independents striving, with rancorous and bitter
energy, to gain the upper hand. Commissioners
were, indeed, sent from both sides to treat for
peace, as during the preceding winter, atUxbridge ;
but rather to preserve appearances, than from
the least belief, on either side, that they could
prove successful in their mission.

Such was the state of things when, on a keen
December's afternoon, Ardenne had strolled
forth from his lodging under the pressure of
uneasy thoughts, to try if exercise and change
of scene might banish the dull sense of rooted

O

sorrow, almost amounting to despair, which had
possessed his bosom. At first he wandered
aimlessly about the streets, until at length he
found himself in the long alleys of St. James's

CROMWELL. 213

Mall, the stage in former days of so much
gaiety and pomp, but now all gloomy and de
serted by every living thing, except a few dis
consolate and dingy sparrows huddled together
on the leafless branches of the elms, or twitter
ing feebly in the wintry sunshine.

The dull and lonely scenery — the grass-plots
mantled partially with crisp hoar-frost — the
wide canals sheeted with rotten and half-melted
ice — the rustic benches white with the slippery
rime — the big drops plashing down from off the
southern branches of the giant trees — and,
above all, the utter solitude — the absence of
any human being — harmonized so well with
the dark and almost misanthropic mood which
had crept on the young soldier, that he con
tinued for above an hour to walk to and fro,
almost unconscious of the flight of time.

He was at length, however, awakened from
his reverie by the approach of three men walk
ing at a rapid pace toward him, apparently
engaged in conversation of the strongest interest.

214 CROMWELL.

A single glance sufficed to let him recognise the
persons of Ireton, Vane, and Cromwell. So
deeply were these gentlemen engrossed in their
discourse, that it was not till they were on the
very point of meeting, that Cromwell knew his
favourite officer. They did not even then, how
ever, pause; but, with a courteous salutation,
passed him, conversing rapidly in a low tone.
After a few steps Oliver quitted his companions,
and, turning short round, followed Edgar at so
swift a pace, that he overtook him almost in
stantly.

" You are well met," he said, entering with
out preamble on his subject. "Had I not thus
— by special favour, it should seem, of Provi
dence — encountered you, I should have sought
you in your lodging ere to-morrow morning.
There is a great change working — yea ! a great
change in Israel ! And, truly, it is needed ; for
verily the tares have multiplied among the har
vest of the Lord — they have increased fourfold
— they have grown up all green, and rank, and

CROMWELL. 215

flourishing, that they shall overtop the goodly
wheat, and choke it down, and triumph over it.
But lo ! the time is now at hand. The Lord
hath borne it in upon our hearts, that we shall
purge the field— that we shall purify the thrash
ing-floor, setting apart the good grain from the
sinful weeds — that so we may not die, but
live !"

" Of what change speak you, general 1" re
turned Ardenne, somewhat coldly ; " for, to say
truth, I may not comprehend you, while you
speak thus in parables."

" May not, or will not — whether ?" Oliver
inquired, with a solemn sneer curling his lip,
and he fixed his piercing eye upon the face of
Ardenne so sternly, and so searchingly withal,
that few men could have brooked his gaze with
out confusion. Then, seeing that the counten
ance of Edgar, though firm and fixed, was frank
and open as the day, he deigned to speak di
rectly to the point.

216

CROMWELL.

"Why, see you not, he said, "that an these
generals, these lords, continue — self-seekers as
they be, not holding their eyes steady, and their
hearts aright toward the public weal, but turning
the right hand and the left, struggling ever for
their own advancement, backsliding, wavering
and fainting at the push of need — see you not
that this war shall vex the realm long years,
and that the man, Charles Stuart, must in the
end prevail ? For, lo you ! even now those coven
anting crafty Scots, whom may the Lord con
found ! are hankering, as the Israelites of old, after
the flesh-pots of the heathen. I tell you, of a
verity, if they might cast the net of their de
ceptions over this groaning land — even the foul
abomination of an established Presbyterian
church, sterner than prelacy, yea ! more intoler
ant than papistry itself — they would desert us
straightway, and unsheathe the sword — edge-
less although it be, and wielded by most weak
and coward hands — to raise the Kins; unto his

CROMWELL. 217

former place, and stablish him in all the might
as he is steady in the will, to work upon our
heads his ancient tyranny \"

" Something of this I have perceived," Ar-
denne replied, " and loath am I to own it even
to mine inmost thoughts. But, on my consci
ence, I believe that Manchester and Essex wish
not to see the parliament prevail too fully. Nay
more, I grievously suspect the Scottish leaders,
and have done so from the beginning. It may
be that I wrong them, but I do hold that their
only object from the first hath been to force the
bigoted and iron discipline of their presbytery
upon this kingdom, intolerant, inquisitorial,
meddling, vexatious, and fanatical. Nor do I
think that they would strike one blow for
liberty, save in this rooted hope."

"You do not, Edgar Ardenne, you do not
wrong them \" exclaimed Cromwell, joyously.
"I do rejoice that you have read them rightly.
And would you not do somewhat — somewhat
to save our necks from this most bitter yoke of

VOL. II. L

218 CROMWELL.

spiritual bondage — to cast this burthen from
our consciences — would you not venture some
what ?"

" Much, much \" cried Ardenne ; " I would
both do and venture deeply, if I could see the
method, and the time I"

"Verily, I will show thee," answered the
other. " To-morrow do we hold a solemn fast,
and a soul-searching self-inquiry to the Lord,
in all our congregations — and all our preachers
shall exhort us — truly the Lord hath put one
leaven and the same into the hearts of all, and
with it shall we all be leavened — showing us
how unjust and scandalous a thing it is, that
we, the members of the Houses, should engross
all offices, both of the army and the state ; giving
a cause to backbiters and to malignants that
they should scoff and cry, ' Ha ! ha ! — should be
lovers of gain rather than lovers of the Lord !
self-seekers, striving for the soft and elevated
places ! belly-gods, hungering and thirsting for
the fat things and the sweet things of the land !5

CROMWELL. 219

Then shall we move before the Commons, Sir
Harry Vane and I, a self-denying ordinance,
whereby no member shall hold, any more, any
commission in the armies of the land. So shall
these stiff-necked nobles be forced to yield the
sway they have so misemployed, and Fairfax,
honest and trusty Fairfax, shall take the place
of doubting Essex."

For a moment Ardenne pondered deeply, and
it was now his turn to strive to read the coun
tenance of his companion ; but all was dark,
mysterious, and inscrutable.

" Your scheme," he said at length,
" is naught ; for by this ordinance you must
yourself resign your truncheon ; and, I care
not although I say it, I hold you the main
pillar of our armies in the field. Your scheme
is therefore naught — nor could it pass the
Lords."

"The Lords !" said Oliver with a grim sneer.
« Trouble yourself not for the Lords ! Truly
L 2

220 CROMWELL.

the time hath come when they must do, even as
the Commons bid them. And for the rest,
truly there is a way."

" An honest way ?" asked Edgar, sharply,
" for to say truth, General Cromwell, I like not
these by-paths of counsel — still less like I this
calling upon holy names, this feigning inspira
tion, and forging miracles, this quoting and
interpreting the word of God, to justify things
politic and worldly \"

" Go to ! go to !" cried Oliver, but with a
dark and subtle smile. " Thou talkest as a babe
— yea ! as a very suckling that knoweth not
the hearts of men. Know this — all things are
honest, that be wrought for honest ends.
Moreover, many pious souls there be, yea !
conscientious, tender, and God-fearing souls,
that will not lend themselves to any work, how
honest in itself soever, without they seek the
Lord and learn his pleasure. I say there is a
way, ay, and a righteous way, whereby we

CROMWELL. 221

may retain our leading of the new-modelled
host, and marshal it to glory."

" How so ? I see it not," said Edgar, musingly,
and wholly unconvinced by Cromwell's spe
cious sophistry. " It must be most gross
practice."

" Surely we may resign our sittings in the
House/3 answered Oliver, very slowly, watch
ing the effect of every word upon the face of
Ardenne," if it be better for the people of the
Lord that we continue with the army."

" And wherefore not they also ?"

" Wherefore not ?" interrupted Cromwell.
" -Wherefore, but because they being peers of
England, their seats hereditary, their privileges
indefeasible." —

" Well, sir," Edgar broke in upon him before
his speech was half concluded — " I see your
plan — and I believe that you mean honestly.
Nevertheless I like it not, and I will none of it.
I love not devious counsels."

And will you then fall off?" inquired the

222 CROMWELL.

other evidently much annoyed. " Will you, that
have performed such mighty deeds for the good
cause, fighting the faithful fight for Israel, will
you fall off to those whom you know wavering
and fickle, if that they be not absolutely traitor
ous and false ?"

" I will do nothing, Master Cromwell, on
that you may rely, — I will do nothing," Edgar
replied in quiet but stern tones, " that both
my head and heart approve not. I may not in
my conscience vote for this your measure ; for
though I quarrel not with the effects, but deem
them most desirable, I do abhor the means. I
may not vote against you ; for I yet more dis
like the course of your opponents. Neutral I
will not be. Therefore to-morrow I resign my
seat. There be not any measures in debate in
which I care to mingle. In matters of religion
my voice is still for universal liberty — all systems
of exclusion, whether they be presbyterian or
papistical, I hold alike despotic, bigoted, and
Jesuitical, and I will vote for none of them. I

CROMWELL. 223

will devote my parts where most they may
avail, to the ordering of my soldiery."

" Be it so !" answered Cromwell, somewhat
relieved. " Be it so — since it may not be as I
should deem for the better. But not the less
shall we prevail in this thing, only hold thou
my counsels secret."

" I am not wont/' said Ardenne, not a little
ruffled, " to fetch and carry — and, as I said
before, I do believe that you mean honestly.
To-morrow, then, I shall resign my seat, and
straight go down to the army."

" Farewell then, till the springtide — and
then, then, Edgar Ardenne, under command of
the right gallant Fairfax, full early shalt thou
see and own the wisdom of my measures. The
next campaign — mark ! mark, I say, my words
— for they are of the Lord ! — the next campaign
shall be the last for Charles/'

224 CROMWELL.

CHAPTER VIII.

By Him who cannot lie,
Each bright intelligence that studs the pole,
Planet, or fixed, or wild eccentric star,
With some weak mortal hath connexion strange
Of good and ill. Yea ! from his natal hour
O'erlooks his fortunes, culminating proud,
Foreshows his glory, but with watery hue,
Sanguine and dim, prophetic points his woe.

The Astrologer.

SOME months elapsed, as they had both sur
mised, ere Ardenne again fell into contact with
his superior officer, and in the interval not one
but all of those great changes which the latter

CROMWELL. 225

had predicted had indeed come to pass. After
much fierce contention the self-denying ordinance
although opposed to the utmost by Hollis, Glin,
and Stapleton, and all the leaders of the Presby
terian faction, passed both the Houses ; Fairfax
was named chief general of the parliament, and
by a series of intricate manoeuvres, affairs were so
arranged that Cromwell, still retaining his com
mission of Lieutenant-general, was not required
even to resign his seat in the Commons.

It was an evil omen for the royal party that
Laud, after remaining in confinement during
four whole years in the tower, was now brought
to his trial, condemned, and put to death by
ordinance of parliament, having in vain produced
a regular and ample pardon under the King's
hand and seal. None, therefore, were surprised
that, like all former efforts at a reconciliation,
the treaty entered on at Uxbridge utterly failed
in its results, the King on one side and the
commissioners on the other exhibiting so much
of haughtiness and unaccommodating spirit that,
L3

226 CROMWELL.

unless by a miracle, no peace could have been
possibly concluded.

So much time had elapsed in the debates at
Westminster, and so late was it in the session
ere the ordinance became a law, that the new
model of the army was not accomplished till
the spring was far advanced, and ere the Inde
pendents were prepared to take the field, Charles
had already gained some trivial but encouraging
successes. The town of Leicester had been
taken by assault, and miserably sacked by the
wild cavaliers, who as their means decreased
fell more and more into those desperate excesses
which rendered in the end their very name a
byword for debauchery and licence. Several
other garrisons had also been stormed sword in
hand; while the new-modelled army had done
nothing but suffered a repulse from Borstall
House, and made a most unprofitable demon
stration against the university of Oxford. Having
received false tidings, that Fairfax had sat down
in form before that city which might be deemed

CROMWELL. 227

the capital of loyal principles, the King marched
hastily with some eight thousand men hoping to
raise the siege, and force the general to a battle
ere he could be joined by Cromwell with his
cavalry ; but hearing, after he had advanced as
far as Daventry, that Fairfax was so near him as
Northampton, he the same day retreated upon
Harborough, intending to fall back on Leicester,
where he might draw more infantry from Newark
to his banner and tarry the arrival of his northern
reinforcements.

On the thirteenth of June the army of the
parliament took up its quarters for the night
about a mile to the south of the small town of
Naseby, the ironsides, with Ardenne's regiment of
horse, being a little in advance on the right wing
of the position, and occupying a commanding
station on a range of gentle eminences. It was
a calm and lovely evening — so still and breath
less that the smallest rural sounds — the lowing
of the cattle from the rich pastures in the vale
below — the bay of mastiffs from the scattered

228 CROMWELL.

granges — the hooting of the owls from many an
ivy-mantled pollard — even the breeze-like murmur
of the distant rivers were clearly audible in
singular but pleasing contrast to the ruder
sounds of the nocturnal camp. The moon in
unveiled gorgeousness was hanging in a sky so
perfectly transparent as is but rarely witnessed
under the humid atmosphere of England, and
millions of bright stars were flashing like diamond
sparks in the unclouded firmament.

Edgar had only joined that afternoon, and
taking orders from the general in person had
not as yet met Cromwell ; but now, when he
had seen his men duly provided with their
rations, his horses picketed and well supplied
with forage, and all precautions taken needful
for a night to be passed upon their arms, he
took his way along the lines toward Oliver's
head-quarters.

Some two or three tents rudely pitched about
the centre of the ridge, with six or eight field-
pieces in battery before them, and the red cross

CROMWELL. 229

on the blue field of the covenant drooping around
its staff, from which the gentle air had not the
power to move it, easily showed him whither to
direct his footsteps; but somewhat to his wonder,
on reaching Cromwell's tent the sentinel on duty
there informed him that the lieutenant-general
had gone forth alone beyond the outposts of the
army to wrestle with the Lord in prayer, even
as holy Samuel went forth " to cry unto the
Lord his God for Israel that he might save them
out of the hands of the Philistines."

Anxious to see Cromwell before the morning,
Edgar, inquiring of the sentinels, and of the
scattered groups of soldiers who were engaged
cooking their evening meal about the watch-
fires, easily followed on his track ; and at last,
having proceeded some few hundred yards
beyond the farthest outpost, discerned the figure
of a man kneeling upon the open' plain in the
full moonlight, with both his arms outstretched
toward Heaven. The clear light glanced upon
the polished iron of his morion and breastplate,

230 CROMWELL.

and even more than this, the harsh tones of the
speaker, as he sent up in vehement profusion his
wild supplications, or remonstrances — for such
they were in spirit — to the throne of grace,
announced to him distinctly that he had found
the object of his search.

Before Ardenne reached him, Oliver's prayer
was ended ; and, rising from his knees, he stood
— his feet a little way apart, and planted with
colossal strength upon the mossy sod — gazing
with an air of calm enthusiasm upon the glisten
ing heavens.

Ci And thou, bright ruler of my destinies" —
thus Ardenne, to his deep astonishment, heard
him exclaim — " thou that didst smile upon my
natal hour — thou that, through every change
and chance of this my mortal course, hast given
evident and never-failing tokens both of my
weal and wo — thou that, when through long
years I wallowed unregenerate and foul in the
abyss of low and soul-debasing sin, wert dim
and clouded ever with thick darkness — thou

CROMWELL. 231

that, in afterdays, when, by the gracious mercy
of that long-suffering and beneficent Lord, who
willeth not the death of a sinner, but rather
that he should turn from his wickedness and
live — my soul was touched of grace, and mine
understanding enlightened to the sinfulness of
my ways — wert seen to shoot forth scintillations,
pure as the seven living lamps that burn before
the throne, which are the seven spirits of God —
thou that, before the blood-red field of Marston,
whereon the Lord vouchsafed unto the humblest
of his servants to fight the great fight, and to
win the crown — even the crown of victory, con
joined with sanguine Mars, didst shine pre
eminent — Beam on ! beam on, with that serene
and placid gorgeousness, which fills my soul
with the high confidence of coming triumph !
Ha ! who goes there ?" he shouted, in a sharp
harsh key, strangely at variance with the wild
enthusiastic accents of his previous meditations.
" Stand ho ! and give the word \"

"The sword of Levi \" answered Edgar,

232 CROMWELL.

promptly. " Lieutenant-general, I greet you
on the eve of battle !"

" Ha ! Colonel Ardenne, by the voice," cried
Oliver. " Right glad am I now to encounter you-
I heard of your arrival, and truly I rejoiced
that we should once more ride together into the
strife of men. Surely the gentle beauty of the
night hath tempted me to wander forth, and
commune here alone with mine own spirit. I
do profess it is a most fair scene — saw you the
stars at any time shine forth more gloriously?"

" It is, indeed, a night of most unusual beauty
for this our English climate," Ardenne replied?
somewhat surprised at the uncommon turn the
conversation had thus taken. " I have seen
many such, however, in Italy and Spain. But
I knew not that you were so deep an admirer of
nature — methought that men had rather been
the subjects of your observation."

" It is not that ! it is not that !" said Crom
well ; " although all His creations must needs
be worth man's study. But have you no belief

CROMWELL. 233

in the connexion of those brilliant and mysterious
lights with the career of men — the course of
great events ?"

"In truth, not I," answered Ardenne; "nor
do I see how such belief can be consistent with
the Christian's faith in a supreme and all-com
manding Providence I"

" But I do/' Cromwell interrupted him. ff I
see not wherefore the Eternal may not divulge
a portion of our fates by means of these — the
most sublime of his creations — nor wherefore
the appointed angel, who ministers to every one
of mortals unto righteousness, may not be like
wise the presiding spirit over some one of yonder
glorious worlds. I do believe it fully — yea ! I
have proved it. Lo ! see you not yon large clear
star, there to the east of Lucifer, and higher
toward the pole, brighter than all the planets ?
It shone upon my birth, and from my boyhood
upward have I known and marked the face of
that far sparkler, and ever has it varied with the
varying of my fortunes, dim and most melan-

234 CROMWELL.

choly in my benighted days of evil, and glorious,
as you see it now, when aught of greatness or
of glory was in prospect. See how it shoots
forth jets of most pure light — no other star doth
likewise. Verily, verily, the Lord shall work
great things for us to-morrow !"

" I have heard tell of this before," Ardenne
replied, " of this your superstition — for so I
cannot but consider it, — and likewise that you
fancy how you a saw a vision years ago. "

" Fancy ! fancy I saw a vision," cried Oliver,
impatiently. eel tell you, Edgar Ardenne, as
plainly as mine eyes behold you now, I saw that
dusky form — as clearly as mine ears drink in
your doubting accents, so clearly did I feel the
tones of its immortal voice. How should I
fancy such things ? I was then but a boy — a
wayward, headstrong and most ill-conditioned
schoolboy. It was a sabbath night and I lay
wide awake, plotting I know not what of orchard-
breaking, or of hen-roost robbing for the morrow
— when suddenly a strange and thrilling fear

CROMWELL. 235

crept over me— I knew that I was not alone,
though I saw nothing. I felt as though a pair
of mighty wings were spread above me, chilling
my very soul — I would have cried aloud, but my
voice choked within me — I would have risen up
and fled, but could not move a finger. And yet,
although I say it, I was then bolder than my
years betokened, and feared not man nor devil.
It was a night of murky darkness, but suddenly
a faint and pallid light filled the whole chamber,
not emanating from one brighter point, but
uniform as daylight, though very dull and
ghastly. My curtains were drawn suddenly
asunder, and a tall misty shape stood in the
opening. I tell you I did see it perfectly and
plainly, Tor I did not faint, though my flesh
quivered aguelike — and the cold sweat stood
in beads upon my brow — and my hair bristled,
as instinct with life. There stood it while I
could have reckoned twenty, and then a deep
slow voice, of strange and solemn harmony,
rolled forth without an effort — " Arise ! arise/5

236 CROMWELL.

it said, ' thou that shalt be the first in England \'
It then vanished, and all again was darkness,
but the voice was tingling in mine ears when
the next sun was high in heaven. "

<e And do you credit this ?" asked Ardenne,
fixing his eyes with something of suspicion on
the face of the enthusiast. "Do you trust in
this prophecy ? Does this dream, actuate your
waking movements ?"

" And wherefore not?" said Cromwell. " The
elder Brutus, he who made Rome free, was
called the FIRST IN ROME, and father of his
country. A man may be the first, and yet
not king or tyrant. Cannot you credit this?"

" I fear me," Edgar answered, very gravely,
" that this vision was a spirit — the evil spirit of
ambition ! Beware, I say, beware how you
give heed to it ! Truly there is not much about
me of the antique Roman ; but did I think —
as half I doubt even now — that this same vision
were but the working of an unholy thirst for
power, that may one day prompt thee to lay

CROMWELL. 1'37

violent hands upon thy country's freedom — I
have yet so much of the Cassius in me, that I
would thrust this sword, which I have buckled
on to fight thy battles, into thy very heart^ ere
thou shouldst live to find thy vision true."

" Wo ! wo is me, what have I said !" cried
Oliver, apparently much moved, " Alack !
alack ! truly the flesh is weak, but strong and
sincere is the soul. Well hast thou said, my
friend, and rightly wouldst thou do, should I
be rendered subject to the temptings of the evil
one. Wo ! wo is me^ that I should be mis
trusted ; surely, if this heart be not honest,
then there is neither faith nor honesty in man.
But thou, Lord, knowest— thou beholdest —
yea! thou readest the most inward thoughts of
this thy servant — continue me then, O thou
merciful and mighty One, continue me thine
instrument ; and shield me from the power of
the evil one ; and be thy word a lantern to my
feet; and keep me, even as I now am — thine,
O Lord, thy servant and thine only !"

238 CROMWELL.

With these words he burst into a violent pas
sion of tears, mingled with sobs so choking and
hysterical, that Edgar was alarmed half for the
intellect, half for the health of the strange
being in whom he felt so deep an interest.
Within five minutes, however, the ecstasy had
passed away ; and, as if he had forgotten all
that had occurred between them, Cromwell now
addressed him in the decided, although quiet
accents of command.

" Soh ! Colonel Ardenne, you will join your
men forthwith — go over once again your roll-
call — see all be in right state for early action —
one hour hence report to me your numbers at
my tent.

And with a slight but courteous inclination,
he turned his back, and walked away toward a
watchfire, round which some dozen of the iron
sides were grouped. Food was before them —
ammunition bread, steaks of beef rudely cooked
upon the embers, and a black jack, or leathern
tankard of strong ale, while several pipes of

CROMWELL. 239

trinidado were sending forth their powerful
fumes above the savoury odour of the viands."

" Ho ! Hezekiah Sin-despise," said Crom
well, addressing a grim-looking trooper — for he
knew every one of his men personally and by
name — "how fare ye here? Have the knave
commissaries dealt with ye righteously ? Surely
ye must not fast, else shall the flesh be weak
upon the morrow."

" Yea, general/' returned the Independent,
" tis very righteous truth. Wilt not thou taste
thyself, so shalt thou judge how fares the sturdy
but rough-coated private, on whom doth fall the
brunt and burthen of the service ?"

"Take, eat!" exclaimed another of the sol
diers, tendering to him a wooden platter heaped
with beef andbread. " Eat, drink with us to-night,
as we shall fight with thee upon the morrow."

"Will I not!" answered Cromwell, seating
himself beside the speaker, and helping himself
heartily to the plain but wholesome food.

When he had finished eating, he filled a cup

240 CROMWELL.

of ale, and, nodding to the troopers, quaffed it
until he nearly saw the bottom; then, with a
hoarse laugh,

" 'Twere evil manners did I not share with
thee, Born-again Rumford," he exclaimed,
"since thou didst share so courteously with
me;" and instantly, suiting the action to the
word, he chucked the rinsings of the cup full
into the broad face and grizzly mustaches of the
man, who had supplied him with the meat.

" Thou hast it there — thou hast it fairly, Born-
again," shouted the soldiers, delighted by the
practical jest of their leader.

fe I know not truly," . Oliver continued, with
a grim smile, " whether indeed this Rumford
hath been born again, whether in flesh or spirit ;
but this I do know of a surety, that hejs now
baptized again — hey, Rumford ? Hand me a
pipe of trinidado," he continued, turning toward
another of the military saints who sat near,
grinning heart and soul at the rough witticism.
'Think ye now, men, that Ireton — he is your

CROMWELL. 241

commissary of the horse, I trow, and sees to
these your rations — think ye that Ireton and
Desborough and Rossiter fare anywise more
daintily than ye ?"

" Ay, marry !" answered Rumford, somewhat
sulkily, " the private and the officer be not
alike in aught. Saw we not master Zedekiah,
Desborough's secretary, bear, not five minutes
since, a right fine haunch of grease and store of
flagons of Bourdeaux into his master's tent ?
Lo ! there go Rossiter, and Jepherson, and Fight-
the-good-fight Egerton, to banquet even now
upon the good things of the earth !"

" Ha ! is it so ?" cried Cromwell, his eye
lighting up. "Verily, then the kid shall be
preserved from out the spoiler's jaws, and given
as a feast unto the shepherds ! — yea, even unto
those who watch ! See here, Baptized-again ;
I go hence straightway to my quarters — enter
tliou in to Desborough's pavilion, and summon
them all instantly to meet me at my tent in
council. When ye shall hear three taps upon

VOL. II. 31

342 CROMWELL.

the kettledrum, then rush in, all of ye, and fall
to bravely — spare not to spoil the haunch, nor
yet to drain the flagons — I, even I myself, will
stand between ye and the fierce wrath of your
officers."

" Cromwell ! live Cromwell !" shouted the
delighted soldiers. " Now may the Lord pre
serve to us valiant and trusty Cromwell I"

The object of their rude praises turned aside,
but, ere he went, another rugged jest showed
yet further the wild humour which at times
possessed him ; for, as he passed behind the
back of the tall trooper whom he had addressed
as Sin-despise, he took the pipe out of his
mouth, when he had kindled its contents, by
two or three quick puffs, to a red heat, and
struck the bowl so sharply on the rim of the
man's corslet, that all the blazing ashes fell
down his neck, between the shirt and skin.

" Now may the devil — " shouted the trooper,
springing to his feet.

" Ho ! swearest thou ? Fy ! fy ! for shame !"

CROMWELL. 243

cried Oliver. "Orderly officer, set Hezekiah
Sin-despise down in thy book, five shillings for
an oath. Truly thou shalt no more be known
as ' Sin-despise/ but rather as ' Overcome-
by-sin.' "

Again the soldiers roared their merry appro
bation, till Oliver, surveying with a mirthful
aspect the contortions of the scorched veteran,
and moved to some compassion by his rueful
countenance, drew forth his purse, and, taking
out the fine, handed it to the non-commissioned
officer.

" Our discipline must be preserved," he said ;
" and the foul vice of swearing I do abhor — yea,
utterly. But, in that some share of the fault was
mine, who tempted the loud railing of this rash
Rabshakeh — verily, I will pay the sum in which
he standeth mulcted. Tush ! twist not thyself,
man, to and fro, nor grin, as though it hurt thee
— methought iny ironsides were proof 'gainst
fire as well as steel !" and, without further
M 2

244 CROMWELL.

words, he hastened to his tent, where he
found Ardenne waiting with the list of his
returns.

" When all the council shall have entered
in," he whispered to the sentry at the door,
" strike three taps on the kettledrum,, and suffer
none to come in or to go out after."

Scarce had he spoken, ere the officers made
their appearance, Desborough wearing a marked
air of sullen discomposure, and all save Ireton,
whose spirit was of a higher and a nobler mould,
showing some symptoms of vexation.

" Give you good evening, gentlemen ! Please
you draw nigh the table," Oliver exclaimed,
" and make me your reports — past doubt we
shall engage to-morrow.*'

And, for wellnigh an hour's space, he kept
them there engaged in various details of mili
tary service, some truly of importance, some
trivial and almost unmeaning. When at length
all was finished —

CROMWELL. 245

" Soh ! we have done at last," he said —
(< Have you supped, gentlemen ? So far as goes
a crust of bread and cheese, and a good cup of
ale — campaigner's fare — I can supply you, if
you will tarry here, and eat with me."

" Thanks, worthy general," said Rossiter ^
" but in good sooth we were just at the sitting
down in Desborough's tent, when that your
summons reached us. He hath, I know riot
how, wrung forth a noble haunch of venison and
store of Bourdeaux wine from some misproud
malignant here at Naseby!"

" Soh ! soh ! right creature comforts — trust
Desborough for that !" Cromwell replied. —
" Why spoke ye not of this beforehand, my
business might have tarried — but let me not
detain you — Farewell, until the morrow."

" Not so ! fair sir," Desborough answered —
" please you to walk with us and share our
supper."

" Nay, I have supped already ! " he replied,

246 CROMWELL.

" with some good fellows of Jepherson's stout
regiment. Well, since you be so pressing, I will
e'en walk down, and crush one cup of wine
with ye," and without further words they all
proceeded, conversing gaily as they went, to
ward the tent of Desborough.

They reached it; and how strange a scene
was there ! — the canvass flapping on all sides
open to the air — the lamps streaming and
flaring in the night wind — the seats around the
table occupied by a dozen or so of wild-looking
cuirassiers, quaffing the rich wines, hacking the
now dismantled viands with knife and dagger —
laughing, whooping, and shouting in their joy
ous revelry — while a score at the least of others
waited, till these had finished, to fall in and
take their turns.

" Now shall you see," said Ireton, who un
derstood the scene at half a glance, " our
stout host Desborough foam like a baited bull.
This is, I warrant me, one of the general's jests

CROMWELL. 247

— somewhat rude ; yet do the soldiers prize him
all the more for them."

" Damnation !" muttered Desborough in vio
lent though smothered fury — " but this doth
pass a joke!"

ee Yea ! 'tis a passing good one !" answered
Oliver, with an attempt at wit which drew a
laugh from the carousers — " But surely thou
didst swear; a fine ! a fine unto our treasury —
look to it Mr. Commissary ! — So now these
excellent good fellows have watched with their .
lights burning, and their loins girded up, and
they have their reward. Art thou an hungered,
Desborough ? — nay then our worthy Ireton will
find you rations ; less delicate, perchance, than
yon fat haunch, that was ; but savouring more
justly of the camp, and more proportionate to
the hard messes of your fellow-soldiers in the
Lord. Fy ! f y ! but this was gluttony — and
the means too, if I mistake not, won by extor
tion ! But enough of this ! Off with ye to

248 CROMWELL.

your quarters, ye well-fed knaves, and snore off
this carousal; and ye, fair gentlemen, though
supperless, good rest to ye. — Right bravely
shall we breakfast on the morrow, an Rupert
keep his purpose. — The Lord save ye !"

CROMWELL. 249

CHAPTER IX.

The night is past, and shines the sun

As if that morn were a jocund one.

Lightly and brightly breaks away

The morning from her mantle gray,

And the noon will look on a sultry day.

Hark to the trump and the drum,

And the mournful sound of the barbarous horn,

And the flap of the banners that flit as they're borne,
And the neigh of the steed, and the multitude's hum,
And the clash, and the shout, " They come ! they come !"

The Siege of Corinth.

AT an early hour of the following morning,
while the east was yet gray with the lingering
shadows of the night, the army of the inde-
M 3

250 CROMWELL.

pendents drew out into line, and formed itself
on ground of the most advantageous nature.
This was a long range of low hillocks dominat
ing the whole plain or valley that separates the
towns of Harborough and Naseby, the latter
lying in the flat a little to the north-west of the
parliament's position. Their centre for the most
part was made up of musketeers and pikemen
with a good park of field artillery, and Fairfax's
life-guard in the reserve, the whole commanded
personally by that true gentleman and gallant
soldier — the right wing was composed of Crom
well's ironsides, with Rossiter's and Ardenne's
lighter regiments ; while the left, consisting
likewise all of horse, was under Ireton's
direction.

All their arrangements were completed, ere
the first flush of daylight broke through the
leafy screens of woodland, which fringed the
eastern verge of that wide campaign ; but soon
the thin clouds, that were scattered over the
summer sky, assumed a rosy tinge — a flood of

CROMWELL. 251

golden light succeeded, and then the great sun
himself rose up in living splendour from the
low horizon.

The vapours gradually melted from the low
lands, and disclosed a beautiful expanse of rural
scenery ; deep pastures studded with noble trees,
green hedges rich in the flowery garniture of
spring, masses of forest throwing their dark-
blue shadows in long checkered lines across
the laughing meadows — all sparkling with the
morning dew-drops — all clothed as with a ra
diant mantle in gay and gorgeous sunshine.
The cattle lowed in the abundant valleys, the
lark sprang upward from the pearly sod, the
rooks sailed forth upon their matin voyage, their
harsh voices pleasingly mellowed by the dis
tance, the hares limped through the young
wheat scattering the dew from the thick herb
age in lengthened mazes — but not one sound or
sight was there betokening aught save happiness
and peaceful quietude.

The royal host, meanwhile, was also in array

252 CROMWELL.

some six miles distant on a height just south
of Harborough, and posted yet more strongly
than their enemies, could the mad impetuosity
of those whom heaven had marked out for
destruction have tarried to avail itself of their
advantage. But as the day drew on, Rupert,
who led the cavalry of the King's right — leaving
the centre under Lord Astley and the left com
manded by the noble Langdale still in position
on the hills, with the life and horse-guards in
reserve — dashed forth, two thousand strong, to
reconnoitre.

About the same time Ardenne's regiment
had been detached for a like purpose, but that
wary partisan, feeling his way with caution
through the wood-roads and defiles of the valley,
easily detected the advance of the royalists,
himself unperceived. Placing these troops in
ambush with instructions to check the prince's
march by one deliberate volley, and then to fall
back on the spur, he drew the rest off, and in
a short half-hour had the satisfaction of collecting

CROMWELL. 253

his whole force under the guns of their position ;
Rupert having been fairly staggered by the fire
of his skirmishers.

Still, with his wonted obstinacy, that rash
leader persisted in believing that the puritans
were in retreat ; and despatched message after
message to order first, and then to hurry the
advance of the main army, which left its vantage-
ground and fatally descended into the open
plain ; so that, before three hours had elapsed^
the generals of the parliament might see the
whole of the King's host rushing like birds into
the fowler's net. With admirable foresight,
Fairfax resolved to suffer them to clear the
broken country ere he should attack them ;
seeing that, if defeated, the enemy must be cut
off among the lanes and passes, which would be
choked with fugitives the instant that the battle
should be turned into a route.

The ground immediately below the hill was
open, as was the whole width of the slope,
excepting two or three stout timber fences, and

254 CROMWELL.

a group or two of trees, which were at once
pulled down, or felled, by Ireton's pioneers?
clearing as fair a field for an encounter as ever
was defaced and trampled into gory ruin by the
death-shock of thousands. A little after ten, on
that bright summer morning, Rupert's bold cava
liers had cleared the woodlands; the heads of
Astley's columns were seen slowly taking up
their ground, and wheeling into line to form the
centre, while Langdale with his .northern horse
was toiling at a full mile's distance in the rear
to bring up their field ordnance. Still no mate
rial opposition was offered to the royalists, except
that now and then a solitary cannon belched
forth its snow-white cloud, and hurled its shot
with terrible precision into the crowded files, as
they debouched upon the plain.

But now the trumpets of Sir Marmaduke
were heard on the left, and he appeared with all
his Yorkshire chivalry ; though still the cannon
of the cavaliers were at the least a mile behind,
encumbered by the fat loam of that hostile district.

CROMWELL. 255

Still the impetuous Rupert paused not — the
instant that the cavalry of Langdale came into
view upon the lefty his bugles sounded for the
charge; and with a cheery shout, leading his
fiery squadrons, himself the foremost man, he
hurled himself against the horse of Ireton, with
the velocity and brightness of a thunderbolt.

Forward they rushed — a torrent of plumes,
scarfs, and rich embroidery — their brandished
rapiers glittering aloft like lightning, and their
high-blooded chargers tearing the turf to atoms
in their furious speed. Such was the fury of
their onset, that neglecting to discharge their
carabines they plunged at once into the closest
conflict. There was a clang as of ten thousand
smiths plying their iron trade !— a shout that
was heard, as men say, at Harborough ! — And
brave although they were, stubborn and resolute,
the cavalry of Ireton wavered. In vain their
high-soul ed leader strained every nerve, and
bled at every pore ; — now here, now there ; ral
lying, shouting, charging, in vain he crossed

256 CROMWELL.

swords with the fiery prince and checked him for
one moment — they bent, they broke, they fled !

Then flashed the pistol-shots, and in un
broken force over them swept the cavaliers ! —
The ground was cumbered with the slain —
but still, over the dead and dying, over the
voiceless trumpet and the tattered banner, over
the mute dismounted ordnance, amid the groans
and blasphemies, the shivering clash of steel,
the neigh of maddened chargers, and the wild
shouts of his victorious troopers, on charged the
daring leader ! — on ! — fetlock deep in gore !

" Now, an he wheel upon our flank, the battle
is half lost already!" hissed the deep tones of
Cromwell in the very ear of Ardenne — " But lo !
the Lord hath blinded him — the God of hosts
hath robbed him of his understanding ! See
where he drives along heedless of aught save
massacre and havoc ! — Ho ! by the light of
heaven, this day shall crown the whole \"

And in good truth, neglecting all, wild as the
whirlwind that destroys, and still sweeps on,

CROMWELL* 257

bearing destruction it knows not and it seeks
not whither, Rupert pursued the fliers — mile
after mile they fled — mile after mile he followed
— beyond the heavy ordnance, beyond the bag
gage of the parliament ; cheering until his throat
was parched and his voice clove to his jaws —
slaying until his sword was blunted, and his arm
weary and exhausted.

Scarce five troops of the whole left wing had
held their ground, and these under the valiant
Ireton, as fired by the success of their compa
nions Astley's stout infantry came steadily and
firmly onward, charged gallantly upon a stand
of pikes — they were hurled backward, as from
a castle-wall, and still that deep array of pikes
rolled onward. — They rallied, and again they
charged, driving their horses in upon the serried
spears, and firing their pistols in the faces of
the sturdy footmen ; but the cavaliers received
them as the bull receives the mastiff and hurls
him from his unscathed front. — Their leader
was dismounted, and made prisoner, their

258 CROMWELL.

bravest were stabbed down and mangled by
the goring pikes — they scattered and fled in
diverse directions.

But now the musketry awoke, mixed with
the louder bellowing of artillery, but save the
rolling smoke-wreaths packed above the hosts
in the calm hush of the hot noontide, and
the red glare that ever and anon surged upward,
and now the waving of a standard, and now
the flash of wheeling weapons half seen among
the volleying clouds, nought could be de
scried. — Yet still the royal foot pressed on un
broken and invincible; and Fairfax — though
his lines fought stubbornly and well, and formed
again when shaken by the musket-buts and
halberts of the royalists, who hardly fired a shot,
still fighting hand to hand, and poured their
volleys in, deliberate yet fast — felt that he still
was losing ground, and that the vantage of the
hill alone preserved him.

On the right of the parliament's army the
conflict had been long delayed ; for Langdale

CROMWELL. 259

had scarce formed, even when Rupert's charge
had pushed the horse of Ireton clear off the
field ; and Cromwell dared not flank the foot
of Astley, lest he should be in turn out-flanked
by Langdale. But now with kettledrums and
trumpets, and shot of carabine and pistol, Sir
Marmaduke advanced upon the gallop ; and
Cromwell, tarrying not to receive his charge,
swung forth his heavy squadrons with a thun
dering hymn to meet him.

An officer rode forward from the Yorkshire
men, as both lines halted to reload, and Oliver
dashed out in person to encounter him. Their
pistols were discharged in vain, for Cromwell's
bullet glanced from the corslet of the cavalier,
and the other fired at random. — Then blade
to blade they met, a dozen passes flashed with
the speed of light between them — their horses
wheeled and bounded obedient to the bit — Oliver
missed a parry, and his morion, with the chin-
strap severed, fell clanging to the ground ; but
without hesitation on he went, and hailed so

260 CROMWELL.

thick a storm of blows upon his foeman, that he
beat down his guard, and hurled him head
long.

The whole passed in a few instants — ere
a few more had elapsed, the adverse lines were
mingled — yet as they closed Born-again Rum-
ford sprang to earth, caught up the general's
morion and tossed it to his saddle bow. Hastily,
as he galloped on, shouting his battle anthem,
and still at every shout striking a cavalier down
from his saddle, he threw the morion on, but
with its peak behind, and so unwittingly fought
on through all that deadly strife.

Equal in numbers, and well-matched in spirit,
the tug of war was dubious and protracted
between the northern horse and the uncon-
quered ironsides ; but in the end Cromwell's
enthusiastic energy prevailed, and Langdale,
fighting to the last, was driven from the field.
Then — then was the superior moral of Oliver's
men proved past doubt — obedient to the first
word, they drew off, careless of plunder or

CROMWELL. 261

pursuit, although their blood was stirred almost
to frenzy by the protracted struggle, and by the
heat of their religious zeal.

"On, Ardenne, on!" Oliver shouted, as he
halted his own five regiments. " Pursue, pur
sue ! suffer them not to rally — support him,
Rossiter — away ! Break them to pieces —
scatter them ! The Lord of Hosts hath given
them a prey into our hands ! All glory to the
name of our God I"

As he spoke, he wheeled at once upon the
flank and rear of Astley's infantry, which still
maintained the conflict in the centre, slowly but
steadily forcing their way against the stubborn
valour of the puritans. One hope remained
for Charles — one only. In the reserve himself,
with his life-guard commanded by Lord
Lindesay, and his own picked horse-guards —
his troupe doree of nobles under the Earl of
Litchfield, and Rupert's best foot-regiment — in
all some thirteen hundred men, fresh and un
wearied, who had not on that day unsheathed

262 CROMWELL.

a sword, or pulled a trigger, Charles had a fair
occasion to draw out and fall upon the flank of
Cromwell, as he swept round to charge the
foot; and so, to do him but free justice, he pro
posed. Bidding his trumpets sound, and
drawing his own rapier — sheathed, as he was,
in glittering steel from crest to spur, conspicuous
by his broad blue scarf and diamond George —
lie plunged his rowels into that snow-white
charger, rendered immortal by the deathless
pencil of Vandyck — his pale and melancholy
features transiently lighted up by strong excite
ment — " Follow me r" he exclaimed, " follow
me all who love Charles Stuart I"

Full of ecstatic valour they sprang forth —
another instant would have hurled them on the
unexpecting and unguarded flank of Oliver,
who was already hewing his way, crimson with
blood from plume to saddle-bow, through the
now reeling infantry. The charge must have been
perilous to Cromwell in the extreme — might
have destroyed him utterly. And had it so

CROMWELL. 263

fallen out, the victory would have been the
King's j for Rupert's scattered troops were even
now beginning to return, and Fairfax could
scarce hold his own.

But the charge was not made. Whether from
folly, cowardice, or treason, it now can never be
discovered, the Earl of Carnewarth, a mere
cipher in that band of England's noblest peers,
seized on the bridle of the King. " Saul o' my
body I" he exclaimed, in his broad Scotch
accent, " will you then go upon your death
this instant ?" and, ere the hapless monarch
could comprehend his meaning, or arrest the
movement, he dragged his charger toward the
rear.

Then, on the instant, a strange panic fell on
all around ; so that they fled upon the spur,
although no enemy was near them ; and though
at length the King's exertions — who spurred
through the ranks beseeching them to stand,
and even striking at the fugitives in impotent

264 CROMWELL.

but noble indignation — brought them to rally,
and ride back toward the field, the moment had
gone by. It was too late. For Fairfax, when
he saw how Cromwell had succeeded on his
right, and felt the consequences of his charge
upon the royal foot in the disorder of that
sturdy mass, moved down at once his own life
guard from the reserve, and brought it into action.

The prince had, indeed, now returned from
his insane pursuit, but his men, deeming that
their part was played for that day, could not be
brought to form again or charge by any effort
of their leaders. And now but one battalion
held its ground, a solid square of foot presenting
an impenetrable front of pikes on every side to
the assailing horse, while from its inner ranks it
poured a constant shower of balls, that mowed
down all before it.

Cromwell, meantime, was overthrowing every
thing, traversing Astley's line from the left end
wise toward the centre, when Fairfax, wheeling

CROMWELL. 265

his life-guards round upon the rear of that un
daunted square, charged it himself in front.
Two horses were shot under him, but a third
time remounting, he brought up his men, though
shattered by the constant volleys, to renewed
exertion.

In the last deadly rush, his helmet was torn
violently off by a pike's point. The colonel of
his life-guard proffered his own ; but no ! bare
headed as he was, he dashed upon the spears-
he hewed his way into that serried band — with
his own hand he cleft the ensign of the regi
ment, who crossed his path, through morion and
skull down to the very teeth — he waved the cap
tured banner round his head, and threw it to a
private for safe keeping, who afterwards would
fain have claimed the honour. That line
of pikes once broken, in swept the inde«-
pendents with the rush of a springtide, and,
where it fought, that firm battalion, refusing
quarter and resisting to the last, was trod,-

VOL. II. N

266 CROMWELL.

den to the earth, annihilated, but uncon-
quered.

The victory was complete — the route dis
astrous. Even to the walls of Leicester, Crom
well's fierce zealots did execution on the flying
cavaliers. From three miles south of Har-
borough to nine beyond it, the country was one
wide-spread scene of flight, massacre, and havoc.
Five thousand of the royalists were slain or
taken from an army which had mustered but
eight thousand in the morning. Two hundred
waggons laden with arms and baggage — all the
artillery and colours, the royal standard, and
the King's own carriage, fell to the victor's
share ; and, above all, that fatal cabinet of let
ters, which — though, with a delicate and gener
ous point of honour not often to be met with in
such times, Fairfax declined to open them —
when published by the orders of the parliament,
proved past all doubt or question, the utter in
sincerity of Charles and his resolve — as firm at

CROMWELL. 267

the last hour, as when he first set up his stand
ard—of reigning, if at all, a monarch irrespon
sible and absolute.

That victory decided the campaign, and that
campaign the cause of England's freedom.

N 2

268 CROMWELL.

CHAPTER X.

To that father's heart
Return, forgiving all thy wrongs, return !
Speak to me, Raimond, thou wert ever kind,
And brave, and gentle ! Say that all the past
Shall be forgiven ! That word from none but thee
My lips e'er asked ! Speak to me once, my boy,
My pride, my hope !

HEMAN'S Vespers of Palermo.

THE action, having raged incessantly during
three hours, sunk into sudden silence after the
charge of Fairfax, which, like a hurricane,
swept all before it ; and, ere another hour from
that time had elapsed, the field was utterly

CROMWELL. 269

deserted, except by those who, having fallen
in the full tide of violence and fury, now slept
as soundly and as well upon the gory turf as if
they had departed from their peaceful beds
amid the weeping ministry of friends ; or those
less fortunate, who lay hopelessly writhing in
their mortal agonies, ' scorched with the death
thirst,' and torturing the tainted air with their
unheeded lamentations.

The hot sun poured his steadiest and bright
est rays over that scene of carnage, glancing as
if in mockery upon the gorgeous dresses, the
rich armour, and the noble steeds — lately so
full of fiery life and beauty — which shed but
now a halo of false glory over the horrors and
the misery of warfare.

The roundheads had withdrawn to their en
campment on the hills, and were recruiting
themselves after the heat and labours of the
day, in that deathlike and absolute repose which is
the sweetest balm to soul and body, both equally
exhausted by the tension of unnatural excite-

270 CROMWELL.

ment, No plunderers — those human vultures
that haunt the battle-field to render horror yet
more horrible — crept stealthily among the dying
and the dead ; for such was the severe and ruth
less discipline of Cromwell, that the few sordid
spirits, who necessarily mingled with the high
enthusiasts of freedom and religion, dared not
even by night, much less in the broad daylight,
to exercise their odious calling. But the ravens
had already flocked in hundreds to the plain, lured
by the scent of carnage from the wide woodlands
of Northamptonshire and Huntingdon, and now
sat perched upon the neighbouring trees waiting
the evening darkness to commence their loath
some meal, while several large kites and buz
zards sailed slowly round and round in lofty
circles, as fearing to alight while any breath or
motion remained to their intended victims.

Such was the aspect of the ground across
which Edgar led his men, returning from the
first pursuit of Langdale's cavalry, which he
had urged— his military ardour tempered by

CROMWELL. 2? 1

Christian mercy — no further than was needful
to prevent their rallying that day ; and it had
given him more pleasure than he had felt for
many a month, to see with what a generous and
British sentiment his men, though hot in blood^
the most part wounded more or less severely,
and all exasperated by the fall of many a gal
lant comrade, refused — even when urged by the
fierce exhortations of their more fanatical com
manders — to strike an unresisting foeman.
While they fought front to front, their hearts
were hardened, and their hands unmerciful ;
but when the rush and fury of the conflict had
passed over, they felt that those poor fugitives
were countrymen and brothers.

How trumpet-tongued does this fact cry aloud
in the behalf of those much-slandered independ
ents, whom it has pleased the writers of grave
sober history — all either prelatists or presbyteri-
ans — to represent as stern, morose, bloodthirsty,
and remorseless.

In the protracted fight, and in the hotly-

272 CROMWELL.

urged pursuit, eight hundred only of the royal
ists were slain, and of these more than three
fourths occupied the ground whereon they
fought, cut down flagrante prcelio, with weapons
in their hands ; while Rupert's onset, and the
massacre which followed it, needlessly savage
and unsparing, alone cost Ireton's brigade more
lives than the whole royal loss !

The prisoners, not the slain— the prisoners
and the results, were the true tests and trophies
of the victory at Naseby.

But these were not the thoughts which
crowded on the mind of Edgar, as he rode
sorrowfully back across the red arena of his
party's triumph. He looked upon the dead?
as they lay stiff and cold, outstretched in ser
ried ranks even where they fought and fell, like
swathes before the mower's scythe ; their feet
toward their foemen, their grim and gory faces
turned up reproachfully toward the placid
heaven, their backs upon their native earth,
and every wound in front; and as he looked,

CROMWELL. 273

in very bitterness of heart, he beat his bosom
with his hands till his steel corslet clattered.
Not one of these but died, in his own creed,
self-justified — not one but deemed himself a
patriot and a martyr — the churchman as the
puritan — the fiery loyalist, as the severe repub
lican — each battling for his country's rights —
each honestly believing his opponent the rebel,
or the tyrant.

Alas, for human reason ! Alas, for human
error ! Alas, for vanity and ignorance — for
blindness and presumption ! Alas, for right
and wrong — for virtue and for vice ! Where —
where on earth shall we discover the distinction
— how test them here below — save by the arbi-
try of the false harlot fortune, save by the
sophist touchstone of success ?

At every step the hoofs of Edgar's charger
plashed with a sickening sound in the dark
curdled gore that flowed commingling from the
wounds of that fine aristocracy — that old high
stock of English gentlemen, polished in courts
N 3

274 CRQMWELL.

athletic and well-skilled in every manly feat of
rural exercise, second to none as scholars in the
forum, or as soldiers in the field, lowly in bear
ing to the low, open and frank among their
peers, haughty and proud to their superiors;
and of that independent yeomanry, fearless and
generous and free, remote alike from insolence
and cringing, dauntless and staunch in war,
blunt and sincere in peace, the children, tillers,
owners of the soil ; both races equally " Eng
land's peculiar and appropriate sons, known to
no other land."

And wherefore lay they here, never to glad
den hall or cottage more — their energies, their
virtues, their devoted love, lost to their native
land for ever ? Was it — was it, indeed, for Eng
land's good ? was it, in truth, for the pure cause
of liberty that they had fallen there, self-immo
lated victims ? or was it bor for man's insatiate
ambition ? Was it, indeed, a trial between the
principles of tyranny and freedom, or a vain
struggle between this and that oppressor, a con-

CROMWELL. 275

flict between principles of legalized authority
and arbitrary sway, or a mere strife between the
interests of Cromwell and Charles Stuart ?

Such were the gloomy thoughts that sat so
heavy at the heart of the young conqueror ;
such the unanswered doubts that almost led
him to distrust himself, almost to curse the hour
when he joined the standard of the parliament.
But it was not long ere more immediate cares,
sorrows more near and kindred, diverted, if
they could not overpower, the half-prophetic
achings of his patriotic soul.

The course which Langdale's fugitives had
taken, far to the right hand of the field, pre
vented him on his return from meeting the main
tide of the King's army, which was scattered
irretrievably, and covered the plain toward Har-
borough. He therefore rode directly toward the
post of Cromwell. It was near three of the
afternoon, when he arrived and found the leader
of the ironsides mounted again, and at the head
of his brigade, refreshed by their brief halt —

276 CROMWELL.

about to set forth instantly in the pursuit.
Before he started on his march, however, he
handed several letters to an orderly dragoon,
who stood, booted and spurred, with a broad
leathern belt and a despatch bag buckled round
his waist, waiting his orders.

"This," he said— " this to the Honourable
William Lenthal, the Speaker of the Commons
House of Parliament — with your own hand,
remember your own hand ! — This to the Wor
shipful Lord Say ! — this to good Master Milton !
— and now get you gone ! let not the grass
grow under your horse's hoofs — be swift and
trusty ! — Ha ! Colonel Ardenne — " he con
tinued, his brow overclouded as he saw him —
" a word with you apart ! — " Then as he drew
him to one side — " Truly the Lord," he said,
ee hath blessed the general cause with mighiy
triumph — I may say, with a great and crown
ing mercy — and therefore it behoves us not,
with weak and fainting hearts, to sorrow over
deeply for our own private griefs. — Surely

CROMWELL. 277

whom the Lord loveth most he chasteneth ! —
Is not this righteous truth 1"

ee Undoubtedly, " Edgar replied, not un
surprised by the peculiar manner of his leader
— " Undoubtedly it is ; but wherefore say you
this to me ?"

" Yea ! and he tempereth the wind to the
shorn lamb. So may he temper it to thee —
humbly and fervently I trust — honest and
valiant friend, in thy time of affliction — much
have I prayed and wrestled with the Lord, since
I did hear—1'

" What — what ? I pray you speak, lieute
nant-general, if you know aught concerning me
or mine. There needeth not this tampering
with the subject, I can endure to hear aught of
affliction, human tongue can tell me."

" Be you so strong?'^ said Cromwell — " man
then your heart ; for of a truth your father is a
prisoner — in the camp, sore- wounded, ay! unto
death I fear me."

Where lies he?" Edgar inquired with a

278 CROMWELL.

voice so preternaturally calm, that Oliver him
self gazed at him wondering. " Hath he had
any help?"

" I caused him to be borne," Oliver answered,
" down to the village yonder, even unto the
house of the Episcopalian priest. Two of his
own domestics be about him ; and General
Fairfax hath sent his own chirurgeon — best
hasten, though, if thou wouldst see him living.
I march forthwith — but tarry thou behind, until
the fourth day hence — so long may I dispense
with thee. Then join me at the half-way house
'twixt Harborough and Leicester, at the first
hour after noon ! farewell, and may the Lord
look down on thee !"

The trumpets sounded, and the ironsides filed
off at a sharp trot — and Edgar mounted hastily
on a fresh horse, and calling several of his body
servants to attend him, rode furiously away
along the broken lanes toward Naseby.

The vicarage was a low rustic tenement, dis
tinguished from the neighbouring cottages by

CROMWELL. 279

nothing but its superior neatness, and its close
vicinity to the square ivy-mantled tower, and
the yew-shadowed yard, with its low mossy
graves of the small village-church. A noble
lime-tree, myriads of bees humming and
revelling amid its scented blossoms — overhung
the grassplot in the front, and a thick growth
of honeysuckle crept over the whole building,
curtaining porch and roof with its close-matted
verdure, and peeping with its honeyed trumpets
through the latticed casements.

O

Each hut and cottage through the hamlet
had been converted into a temporary hospital
for the reception of the wounded from the near
battle-field, but by the group of horses guarded
by a stout knot of troopers, and the two sturdy
sentinels who kept the door, the son knew
instantly the sojourn of his father.

Curbing his horse so violently up that he had
well-nigh fallen on his haunches, he sprang
down, and rushed under the low doorway. Just
as his foot was on the threshold, a person,

280 CROMWELL.

whom he judged to be the surgeon, was passing-
onward.

" How fares he?" Edgar gasped — the words
half-choking in his throat — " How fares your
patient? — Have you any hope?"

The man of healing shook his head — " None

O

— not the slightest/5 he replied — " the ball
hath severed all the main intestines. The
haemorrhage has ceased externally — and he is
easier now — mortification must ensue ; he can
not live six hours ! I have done all I may, in
quieting his agonies — man can no more."

Bending his head to veil the bitter anguish
that racked his manly features, Ardenne passed
onward — directed by a gesture of the silent
sentinel he entered the small parlour, and there
upon a temporary couch — the window-curtains
drawn aside, the lattices thrown open to admit
the slightest draught of air that might be stir
ring, the old steward of his household wiping
the death-sweat from the massive brow and
long gray locks of his loved master, while the

CROMWELL. 281

big tear-drops fell like rain down his own
withered cheeks, and the white-headed vicar
kneeling in silent prayer beside the death-bed
of the cavalier— there lay his father, with his
high features pale and sharpened by the near
approach of the destroyer, and the froth gather
ing round his bloodless lips, and the dark drops
of icy perspiration bursting from every pore of
his broad temples.

No groan, nor murmur passed the mouth of
the calm sufferer, but one sad, querulous, and
oft-repeated cry— " Comes he not yet?— not
yet?"— But when the foot of Edgar, lightly
although he set it on the floor, clinked with its
jingling spurs upon his ear, he started half-
erect, and drew his hand across his eyes, as if
to clear away the gathering mists.

"'Tis he!" he cried in tones, distinct and
clear from the excitement of the moment, a
faint flush lighting up his ashy cheeks, but
instantly departing—" Tis he at length— thank
God — my son ! my son ! — "

282 CROMWELL.

And into that son's arms he sunk, and lay
there as contentedly as though no cloud of
anger or mistrust had ever come between them,
smiling up with a faint but most kind smile into
his face, and clasping his convulsed and trem
bling hand with all the little strength his
mortal wound had left him.

For many moments Edgar could find no
voice — his whole frame shook with agony — he
sobbed as though his very heart would burst,
gazing upon the countenance of that loved
parent with dry and burning eyes, and a throat
choked by the convulsive spasms of a tearless
sorrow. " My boy — my own boy — Edgar — "
the old man faltered forth at length — " take
not on thus— oh ! take not on thus bitterly.
'Tis but the course of nature — the old must die
before the young; and I — why I have fallen
full of years, and full of honour, although my
self I say it — and I am glad to die thus — thus
with your arms about me, Edgar. But I have
much to say to you, and I can feel my time

CROMWELL. 283

grows very short to say it. Our reverend
friend, to whom I owe so much, and good
Master Winterfield, will pardon us a little
while — and Anthony — old faithful Anthony
will leave us. We have not met for many days,
and we would fain be private ere we part — "
arid his voice failed a little, and a tear stood in
his clear gray eye — (i part, as we must, for ever.
We will recall you — " he continued — " pre
sently; for I would fain pray with this holy
man, ere I go hence to stand before rny
Maker."

There was a pause — a long sad pause, as all
obeyed his words, broken by nothing but the
hard breathing of the wounded man, and the
strong sobbing of the mourner.

"Edgar," the old man said at length, "are
we alone ? have they all left us ?" and then,
his question being answered — " This is a sorrow
ful, yet a most happy meeting ; for I feel — I
feel here — " and he laid his hand upon his
breast — "that that kind heart of yours has

284 CROMWELL.

pardoned all the wrongs — the cruel and unmanly
wrongs which I have heaped on you. Is it not
so, my boy, my kind and noble boy 1st

"Oh, speak not thus!" he answered, when he
could force a word — " oh, speak not thus, my
father ; you have been ever good — too generous !
too good ! Tis I — 'tis I alone, may Heaven
forgive me, that have been to blame. Say only
that you pardon me, and bless me, oh father !"

" No ! no !" exclaimed Sir Henry, with more
of energy than he had spoken yet — " I will
not — I do not — for I have nought to pardon.
Never, never, from your most early years have
I had cause of aught save joy and pride in you.
And you were — yes, you were the joy, the pride,
the only anchor, the last stay of my lone widowed
heart, till England became mad, and this accur
sed arid unnatural war rushed over us, tearing
asunder every gentle link, and blighting every
warm affection. But I have nought, even here,
to pardon ; for I have been, even here, alone to
blame ! But I too was mad !"

CROMWELL. 285

" Oh, no,*" cried the repentant son. " It was
my duty to obey you — to bear with you — to do,
in every thing, your bidding — "

" Not so," Sir Henry once more interrupted
him. "'Tis no man's duty to obey in things
against his conscience ; and I was but a fool —
an obstinate and merciless old fool — that would
not even hear you. Nay more ! nay more/* he
cried, wringing his hands with mental torture,
" rash miserable sinner that I am, I would have
slain you, but for that angel girl — slain you,
that would have never been within my power
but for your self-devoting efforts to preserve me.
And I have slain your quietude — your peace of
mind for ever ! blasted your hopes of fireside
happiness — banished you from the dwelling of
your fathers — robbed you — ay, robbed you of
your heritage — divorced you from your bride —
cut short your hopes of leaving your high name
to sons as glorious as yourself. All this — all
this, and much more, have I done — much more !"
As he spoke, he sunk back quite exhausted

286 CROMWELL.

by his own vehemence ; but in a moment, heed
ing not the tremulous intreaties of his son, that
he would not wear out his faculties with this
most needless passion,

" I will, I will," he answered — " I will go
through with my confession. Reach me that
cup, and hear me."

He drained the draught of some mild opiate,
mingled with wine and water, and proceeded.

" Much more of deadly sin than this! I am
the murderer of Sibyl !"

For an instant Edgar fancied that his intellect
had failed him, and gazed hopelessly upon his
face ; but there was no glare of insanity, no
ideot vacancy in those high pallid features.

<( Yes," he continued, " I have murdered
her ! Have I not seen her growing paler day
by day, and thinner, and more delicate, and
frail ? Have I not seen her pining hourly away
— withering beneath the blight of her affections,
like flowers beneath the earliest frost winds ?
And yet, at every hour, more patient and more

CROMWELL. 287

angel-like, and more unearthly in her pure holy
loveliness? and I have done this also — this foul
and gradual murder? And she will waste away
before her time, and sink by inches into the cold
dark grave, blessing her slayer as she dies !
And thou too, thou, my son, wilt live a sorrow
ing and solitary thing ; for thy strong noble soul
will not succumb to any violence or spite of for
tune. Alone upon the earth, like the last oak
of a druidic grove, when all its brother trees
have fallen by the woodman's axe — magnificent,
and flourishing, and stately, yet sad in all its
dignity — friendless, companionless, alone, and
with the worm — the never-dying worm — busily
gnawing at its heart — yet happier than thee in
this — that 'twas not by a father's hand its green
companions fell ; not by a father's hand the foul-
destroying worm was thurst into its bosom !
No, no ! it cannot be ; you can not pardon
me 1"

"All this/' said Edgar, calmly, yet much
moved, though smothering his emotion — "all

288 CROMWELL.

this is but the work of Heaven. The Lord hath
willed it so, and we are but the instruments, the
wretched instruments, within the hollow of his
hand. If you have erred, as I say not you have,
you erred in honour, and believing yourself jus
tified. But if it be a comfort to you, hear me
now, on my knees beside your dying bed, de
clare that never — never for one short moment,
have I felt any wrath or bitterness — never known
any feeling toward you, dearest and most ho
noured father, save the most deep heart-spring
ing reverence and love. Sorrowed I have, and
deeply, that you misjudged my soul, and disap
proved the course my conscience bound me to
pursue ; but never have I thought 6f you as
wronging me — never presumed, nor even wished,
to blame you. But yet, if there be aught for
which you need forgiveness from a child — oh,
term most misapplied — with all my heart — with
all my soul — in sight of men and angels, I bless
you and forgive you, O my father \"

"And bless you," cried the old man, "my

CROMWELL. 289

noble-hearted boy — Heaven bless you, and it will
— it must bless such as you — and prosper you
with all its choicest stores, and make you ten
fold compensation for your past and present
sorrows."

And he drew down the lips of Edgar to his
own, and clasped his arms about his neck ; and
their tears mingled long and silently, and their
prayers went up together to the throne of mercy ;
and with those tears, and that embrace, the bit
terness passed by, the iron was drawn out from
the old warrior's soul.

The clergyman returned, the simple but af
fecting service of the church was feelingly
performed, the last most holy rite partaken
both by the son and sire — the servants were
called in, the faithful followers of their lord
through weal and woe — and a faint smile, a sad
farewell, a kindly pressure of the honoured
hand dismissed each weeping, not as for a mas
ter, but rather as for a friend and father, from
the low chamber — and once again the father

VOL. II. O

290 CROMWELL.

and the son were left in solitude. There they
remained for hours — the old man, while his
hard breathing shook the frail couch beneath
him, calm, patient, and serene — the stately son
bowed down, and bent as if by age, clasping
the languid hand that grew at every instant
sensibly colder and more pulseless, and sorrow
ing as one who would not be consoled, although
he choked his anguish, lest it should but in
crease his father's sufferings.

The bright warm sun had long since sunk into
the west, and his last flash had faded from the
sky ; yet so mild was the evening air, that every
lattice was still thrown wide open, and the rich
odour of the woodbine and sweetbriar rose
more profusely on the senses, when steeped in
the pure dews of summer. And now the dark
blue skies grew gradually lighter, as the moon,
near her full, rose slowly and serenely over the
distant trees. There was a whispering of the
breeze in the top branches of the lime, and
from the odorous shrubs in a far corner of the

CROMWELL. 291

garden a solitary nightingale, awakened by the
glorious lustre of the planet, started at once
into its wild and melancholy flood of song.

The dying man, who had sunk into a long
and tranquil slumber, moved now uneasily, he
made an effort to turn over, and the pain caused
by the motion roused him. " Sibyl \" he mut
tered, hardly yet awake, — " Sibyl, your song is
wondrous sweet to-night; but why so sad? it
should be gay as summer after this blessed
union. — Ah \" he continued,— 6f Ah \3) as con
sciousness returned, " I dreamed — I have slept
pleasantly, and dreamed a most delicious dream.
Is it late, Edgar?"

" The clock hath just chimed ten," Edgar
replied. " I would have called for lights, but
feared to awaken you — shall I now do so 1"

" No/5 he said faintly. " No, it matters not
now. How calm it is, and sweet — the blessed
moonlight streams in through the casement,
like Heaven's own mild forgiveness into a sin
ner's bosom. Edgar, when I am gone, say to

292 CROMWELL.

my poor, poor Sibyl, that on my happy death
bed my sole regret was that I could not join
her hand with yours for ever. She will be
yours now — now, that this miserable war is
ended — for it is ended, Edgar, and I regret its
termination less, that I have lately seen much
in Charles Stuart — in the King — that I had
disbelieved, or shut my eyes upon, before — a
good man, but — it will out — a bad king." He
hath, I must confess it, dealt insincerely with
his nearest councillors. He hath kept up a
secret intercourse with the wild Irish rebels,
through that ill-minded Antrim; and, I much
fear me, he was privy to, and instigated their
first bloody rising under the bigoted and bar
barous O'Neill. Weak, obstinate, and preju
diced he is, beyond all doubt, proud and uxori
ous. I know that he stands pledged in private
to his queen, never to give peace to his people
unless by her consent. And all this done
against the counsels and without the knowledge
of those men who have a right to counsel him —

CROMWELL. 293

ay ! and to know his measures — since for him
they have risked their all ! — done in deep
malice to his enemies — in deeper guile to whom
he calls his friends ! — Out ! out, I say, upon such
kingcraft !— But enough of this. — She will be
yours, and you will both be happy yet — as I am
now — most happy ! How soothing is that sad
bird's note ! I could almost believe it is pro
phetic. — How beautiful — how peaceful P'

He was again for some time silent, as though
absorbed in listening, or in thought ; and
Edgar, who well knew his end was very near
at hand, was motionless, and almost breathless,
his heart was far too full for words. At length the
old man spoke once more ; but now his voice was
very faint and low, and all its accents were so
altered, that his nearest friend could not have
recognised a tone — and his words came at
intervals, quivering and slow and interrupted.

" How exquisite/' he said, — " how exquisite
this tranquil bliss ! — Never — no never felt I
such complete peace — such perfect happiness —

294 CROMWELL.

Edgar — Edgar — my time — is drawing— near. —
My feet grow numb and cold. — Kiss me — boy —
kiss me. The bird hath ceased his song \" — (Even
while he spoke, its notes were filling every corner
of the chamber with its most thrilling melody.)
<cThe moon hath set!"— (Yet she was stream
ing full on his uncurtained couch.) ee All — all is
dark — and silent. — Time — it is time — to die ! —
My boy — my own boy ! — Bless you — Sibyl ! —
Sibyl !— "

It was over — the spirit had departed to its
God.

END OF VOL. II,

WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAND.

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